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 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 MANUAL OF POLITENESS, i 
 
 - i 
 
 COMPRISING 
 
 THE PRINCIPLES* OF ETIQUETTE, 
 
 RULES OF BEHAVIOUR IN GENTEEL SOCIETY, 
 
 FOR 
 
 PERSONS OF BOTH SEXES. 
 
 PHILADELPHIA: 
 
 PUBLISHED BY J. B. LIPPINCOTT & CO. 
 
 CORXER OF RACE AKD FOURTH STS. 
 1842.
 
 Entered according to the act of Congress, in the year 
 1837, by W. Marshall & Co., in the clerk's office of 
 the district court of the United States in and for the 
 eastern district of Pennsylvania.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 Introduction Page 7 
 
 On the Acquirement of Politeness 15 
 
 General Deportment 23 
 
 Manners in Company : 
 
 Entering and leaving the Room 63 
 
 The Dinner-Table 70 
 
 The Bail-Room 74 
 
 On Visiting 77 
 
 Conversation 79 
 
 Address in Conversation 82 
 
 Small Talk 90 
 
 Advantages of Female Conversation 95 
 
 Music and Singing 96 
 
 Epistolary Correspondence 99 
 
 Awkwardness 101 
 
 American Peculiarities 115 
 
 Affectation 124 
 
 Politeness at Home 1 35 
 
 «i3 O l>'=-iL *3 -«-
 
 IV CONTENTS, 
 
 Treatment of Servants 139 
 
 Walking the Streets 142 
 
 Salutations 145 
 
 Introductions 147 
 
 Presents 150 
 
 Keeping Appointments 153 
 
 Appearance in Society 155 
 
 The Hands 157 
 
 Chapped Hands 163 
 
 The Teeth 164 
 
 Causes on which a tainted Breath depends : 
 
 Scorbutic Affections 169 
 
 Tainted Breath from the long use of Mercury 171 
 
 Weak Lungs 174 
 
 Smoking and Chewing Tobacco 174 
 
 The Hair 177 
 
 Dressing to Advantage 186 
 
 Full Dress 188 
 
 The Coat 188 
 
 Dress Pantaloons 189 
 
 The Waistcoat 190 
 
 The Feet 191 
 
 The Hat 194
 
 CONTENTS. ■-, 
 
 Female Beauty : 
 
 The Female Form 19<3 
 
 The Dress of Ladies 214 
 
 Detail of Female Dress 23.3 
 
 Miscellaneous Observations 26<i
 
 MANUAL OF POLITENESS. 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 True Politeness has its foundation in benevo- 
 lence, or good will to mankind. It is not con- 
 fined to mere exterior behaviour, nor does it 
 consist entirely in a set of observances agreed 
 upon by fashionable society. It proceeds from the 
 heart, is dictated by good principles and directed 
 by common sense. It is the result of a proper and 
 modest estimate of our own merits and claims, and 
 a due regard for the rights and the feelings of those 
 with whom we have intercourse in the world, 
 It implies a willingness to sacrifice our inclina- 
 tions and ease to those of others, wherever the 
 sacrifice may be made without degradation or 
 servility ; and all its requirements might be
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 obeyed by a simple and unostentatious adherence 
 to the golden rule of treating others as we would 
 wish them to treat us. 
 
 It has been remarked that a man's manners 
 make his fortune ; and to a certain extent this 
 trite maxim is true ; for a spirit of conciliation, 
 and a pleasing address, certainly go far to remove 
 the difficulties which lie in the way of the aspi- 
 rant for fortune or distinction of any sort. It is 
 not less true that for those who have already at- 
 tained that point, at which so many are aiming, 
 a competency of worldly goods, there is no orna- 
 ment so becoming as a polite address. It affords 
 a ready passport to those circles which the merely 
 rich never enter ; and it makes the possessor of 
 fortune's gifts feel at home in that refined society 
 where vulgarity is out of countenance, and impu- 
 dence itself is abashed by finding itself out of 
 place. To all, therefore — the rich and the poor, 
 the industrious and the idle, the old and the 
 young ; those who have their fortunes to make, 
 and those whose fortunes are made, politeness is 
 8
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 equally necessary for true enjoyment. It is the 
 dispenser of cheerfulness and tranquillity in every 
 circle where it resides, and gives to every votary 
 a talisman wherewith to lighten the cares, and 
 increase the joys, of life. 
 
 Some of the leading features of true politeness 
 are very cleverly drawn by a quaint old writer, 
 from whom we shall take the liberty to quote a 
 few remarks. 
 
 ' To define politeness, we may say, it is all moral 
 virtues in epitome : it is a combination of discre- 
 tion, civility, complaisance, and circumspection, 
 to pay every one the respect they have a right 
 to demand of us : and all this must be dressed and 
 set off with an agreeable and insinuating air, dif- 
 fused through all our words and actions. This 
 virtue consists not merely in surface and exterior, 
 but must have its principle in the soul, as being 
 the product of an accomplished mind, centring on 
 itself, and master of its thoughts and words ; that 
 delights to do everybody justice, and to sacrifice 
 its own interest, rather than wound those of an- 
 9
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 other man : a mind situated above vulgar reports ; 
 neither exceptions nor difficult, nor requiring ex- 
 plications of a thing ever so little ambiguously spo- 
 ken. Who sees not that this demands a strong 
 fund of reason, and great commerce with the 
 world, besides an exact knowledge of decorum, 
 and of what every one owes to his respective 
 quality, duly to maintain its character as becomes 
 himi 
 
 It cannot be denied, that politeness is the most 
 charming thing for civil society : a virtue, that 
 teaches us to bear with the infirmities of some, 
 to endure patiently the freaks and extravagancies 
 of others: to enter into their sentiments, in order 
 to set them right, by soft and insinuating ways ; 
 and to gain an universal good-liking, by a sincere 
 desire of pleasing. Under this view a man puts 
 on all appearances, and transforms himself into 
 all shapes, the better. to gain his point. And 
 though a continued complaisance to persons of a 
 certain character carries with it a great deal of 
 uneasiness and constraint, yet he conquers his 
 10
 
 INTRODUCTIOiN. 
 
 reluctance, and will not be biassed from his roa3 
 by their disgustful conduct. Be they never so 
 fantastical, it is hard if they are not won by those 
 that cultivate their humour with so much patience 
 and assiduity. 
 
 Politeness farther instructs us to refuse the 
 incense that is otFered us, and to throw it libe- 
 rally upon others, by an ingenuous acknowledg- 
 naent of their excellencies and accomplishments. 
 Thus you see the reason why we taste so exqui- 
 site and delicate a pleasure in the conversation 
 of the polite, who have good sense and reason, 
 and complaisance and skill, to adapt themselves 
 to our tempers and understandings. 
 
 It is not common to find so great a confederacy 
 of perfections ; and therefore it is no wonder if 
 the number of the polite be so small. Women, 
 who are naturally more good-humoured, complai- 
 sant, and gracious, than men, have also more po- 
 liteness; and it is chiefly by our commerce with 
 them we learn to be civil and polite, through the 
 ambition we have to please them. , 
 
 11
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 Polite behaviour is what renders merit amiable 
 and agreeable ; and, on the contrary, the want of 
 it destroys the esteem that is due to the finest 
 qualities. Some are observed to have a very par- 
 ticular talent at exposing others to ridicule, and 
 giving new heightenings to their impertinences; 
 but this faculty is very opposite to politeness, 
 which keeps fair with all people, and ever finds 
 arguments to salve their conduct, or at least to 
 justify their intentions. The polite have also a 
 wonderful address at entering into the taste and 
 genius of people, by taking the height and eleva- 
 tion of their understandings, and administering 
 occasions of displaying their parts ; as being less 
 addicted to shine in conversation, by drawing it 
 wholly to themselves, but to let others show them- 
 selves, and have their share of it. 
 
 Many pass for polite, who have but a superficial 
 tincture of this virtue, concealing themselves un- 
 der the dazzling plumage of a borrowed exterior ; 
 but no sooner you converse with them, than you 
 easily perceive the hypocrisy of this counterfeit 
 12
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 politeness. As long' as you applaud them, make 
 all concessions they desire, and give them no kind 
 of disturbance, they are good-natured, obliging, 
 and complaisant sorts of people ; and you would 
 take them for patterns of good-breeding : but the 
 least disgust you give them, or a reverence per- 
 haps forgotten, unhmges the machine, throws off 
 the mask, and shows them in their original. You 
 see them exclaim, and toss, and storm, and throw 
 out a hundred impertinencies ; forgetting the part 
 they acted, and the vizor they had put on : which 
 whimsical unevenness of temper makes them con- 
 sidered with contempt. 
 
 Politeness demands an exquisite knowledge of 
 its duties, and punctual fidelity to discharge them. 
 A man must constrain himself and bridle his tem- 
 per, because he will find himself continually en- 
 gaged with persons of most difficult converse: he 
 must have great consideration for their weak- 
 nesses, and pretend to submit to their opinions. 
 Be they never so fantastical, they have one side 
 that is practicable, whereby you may take them 
 13
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 and conduct them to the point you desire ; at least 
 you will have no subject of reproach against you 
 if you cannot overrule the obstinacy of their na- 
 tures. » 
 
 Do not think you are entitled to the character 
 of politeness, by rendering- every one their due, 
 unless you do it in a free and easy manner, and 
 without a certain constraint, which has always 
 an ill grace. This freedom is infinitely becoming, 
 and gives a lustre to the most trifling things; 
 whereas the stiflriess and constraint of those per- 
 sons that are all of a piece, has constantly an ill 
 effect, and blasts part of their merit. 
 
 People naturally sweet-tempered and polite, 
 have no more to do but to give the reins to their 
 inclination: but politeness is not always born 
 with them ; being a thing that requires practice, 
 experience, application, and study.' 
 14
 
 ON THE ACQUIREMENT OF PO- 
 LITENESS. 
 
 The Duke de Rochefaucalt has very justly ob- 
 served, "that good grace is to the body what 
 good sense is to the mind." Good manners may 
 be defined as having their origin in the human 
 mind, from a wish to please, and enhance, by an 
 exterior of kindness, attention, and affability, the 
 pleasures resulting from the social intercourse of 
 society. Each successive age, since former pe- 
 riods of barbarity ii\ the dark and feudal times, 
 has tended to produce an increased refinement 
 and civilization in this respect; in which, how- 
 ever, our more polished neighbours, the French, 
 are generally allowed to have taken the prece- 
 dence. 
 
 The want of scarcely any acquirement, in the 
 present day, stands so conspicuous in good socie- 
 ty as the want of manners. The possession of 
 this attribute of excellence may justly be deemed 
 " the outward and visible sign" of bemg accus- 
 15
 
 THE ACQUIREMENT OF POLITENESS. 
 
 tomed to good company — an exhortation to do 
 which, forms the basis of all moral advice. In i 
 proportion, therefore, as good breeding- is held in ] 
 such general estimation, so is the want of it just- i 
 ly condemned and despised ; for it is at once i 
 taken as an evidence of being associated with | 
 low habits, and connexions ; than which, nothing 
 can tend to depreciate an individual more in the ! 
 eyes of the refined and elegant, especially if born i 
 to wealth and rank. It is, at once, an illustration i 
 of the old and trite axiom, " Tell me your com- j 
 pany, and I will tell you what you are ;" which ' 
 may not be inaptly rendered vice versa, " Let me j 
 see what you are, and I will tell you your com- 
 pany." 
 
 There are, indeed, some people in the world, 
 who affect to consider politeness as a kind of os- 
 tentatious parade, to be adopted only by a certain 
 fortune, and by a certain rank: their rudeness 
 they term plainness and ease ; they never sus- | 
 pect that agreeableness of forms is one of the j 
 most essential elements of a placid and happy ■ 
 16 J
 
 THE ACQUIREMENT OF POLITENESS. 
 
 life. But does not the true repose and serenity 
 of our days depend more upon a multitude of 
 trivial actions, of hourly recurrence, than on 
 more important events, with which the path of 
 life is but sparingly bestrewed ] The habit of 
 delicate sensations tends to give additional re- 
 finement to delicacy, while vivacity of imagina- 
 tion and sensibility are improved by it ; the apt- 
 ness to receive agreeable impressions is in- 
 creased, and the combination of all these pro- 
 duces the immense interval that separates good 
 company from the unpolished multitude. 
 
 How often do we see and hear of much person- 
 al beauty, and, perhaps, good-nature, in young 
 men and women, being clouded, — denounced, 
 one may say, by the whisper of " awkward crea- 
 ture," " clod-hopper," &c. This, together with 
 the sarcasm which the most refined are by no 
 means backward in uttering, seldom fails to show 
 their want of sympathy for the object of their 
 ridicule : a fellow-feeling, indeed, when these 
 examples occur in society, more especially among 
 B 17
 
 THE ACQUIREMENT OF POLITENESS. 
 
 the men, cannot be understood to exist, as no ex- 
 cuse for want of manners can be tolerated. On 
 the contrary, such is the influence of very ag-reea- 
 ble manners in society, that if a man can but 
 boast of this one qualification, he may be a very 
 great favourite at many tables, and especially 
 among the ladies, merely from the hundred little 
 nameless attentions and compliments incident to 
 elegancies of first-rate breeding. Elegance, in- 
 deed, or the want of it, may be detected by the 
 experienced eye, in the most trivial actions, — 
 the entrance into a room — the bow — the compli- 
 ment, &c. In fact, the very first glance at the 
 exterior will serve to convey a very tolerable 
 idea. 
 
 Nothing, therefore, than this fact, can better 
 show the folly of introducing boys and girls just 
 returned from country boarding-schools into so- 
 ciety, without having first taught them adequate 
 notions of the duties that will devolve upon them. 
 Thrown into a kind of new being — a new order 
 of things, as it were — I am convinced that it is 
 18
 
 THE ACQUIREMENT OF POLITENESS. 
 
 frequently productive of much mischief to young 
 people ; the sense of inferiority they soon find 
 they labour under, frequently creates a disgust 
 for young men who only acquire all the erudition 
 of the Latin and Greek scholar, at the expense 
 of the more delightful and generally-appreciated 
 accomplishments of society. Habituated, by 
 early practice, to become a book-worm, the 
 learned man will seldom be found possessed of 
 that elegance of breeding that softens the feel- 
 ings and adds a zest to society. The great Doc- 
 tor Johnson is a memorable instance of this. 
 
 By these observations, I would not be under- 
 stood for a moment to under-rate, what are usu- 
 ally called, the dead languages; far from it: a 
 certain acquaintance with them is indispensably 
 requisite to every gentleman's education, both to 
 enlarge the judgment, and form the taste upon 
 the almost unerring principles of the ancients ; 
 but, at the same time, I would always have this 
 more sombre knowledge coupled with the excel- 
 lence of the lighter and more fascinating accom-* 
 19
 
 THE ACQUIREMENT OF POLITENESS. 
 
 plishments of polished society. To this love of 
 classical attainment, I am convinced, may be 
 ascribed the fact, that, in every twenty gentle- 
 men, not more, perhaps, than one really elegant 
 and courtly-mannered man, can be found. 
 
 With reference to the education of young 
 ladies, a more than ordinary care and attention 
 devolves upon their parents, in regard to vt^hose 
 care they may commit the task of educating 
 them. One great error, too often committed, is 
 the placing them at boarding-schools, where the 
 number of pupils taken in precludes the possi- 
 bility of proper attention being paid them. Dif- 
 fering greatly from the education of men, girls 
 are too often taught accomplishments at the ex- 
 pense of that time that should be devoted abso- 
 lutely to requisite knowledge and attainments, 
 that, on their dehut in the world, they find con- 
 stantly called for in • conversation. A thorough 
 knowledge of history, the globes, the French, 
 and arithmetic, is essential ; — then dancing, sing- 
 ing, playing on the harp or piano-forte, drawing, 
 20
 
 THE ACQUIilEMENT OF POLITENESS. 
 
 painting-, &c. may be acquired with the utmost 
 propriety, as accomplishments that are naturally 
 looked for as necessarily forming a part of a 
 young lady's acquirements. 
 
 With respect to the contraction of bad or slo- 
 venly habits, that, I have previously observed, 
 may be generally traced to the education ; too 
 much care, and, if required, severity, cannot be 
 exercised, in preventing the formation or con- 
 tinuance of them. The writer of these pages 
 has the pleasure of numbering among his ac- 
 quaintance a very agreeable young lady, whose 
 good qualities are greatly obscured through a 
 shocking habit she has in company, of occasion- 
 ally biting her nails ; the consequence is, that 
 the ends of her fingers are such as actually to 
 preclude her playing on the piano (on which in- 
 strument she is a considerable proficient) before 
 company. It is hardly requisite to say, that rfiis 
 habit, which every care in the world has been 
 used to eradicate, arose from blameable indul- 
 gence in very early childhood, and fixed in after 
 21
 
 THE ACQUIREMENT OF POLITENESS. 
 
 years. So easily are pernicious habits acquired, 
 and so difficult to get rid of. 
 
 Among many other habits opposed to elegance, 
 none are more truly displeasing than all ungainly 
 twists and contortions of the person, such as 
 swinging of the arms, a lop-sided gait, turning-in 
 of the toes, &c. Originating, as I have pre- 
 viously observed, in childhood, if not stopped at 
 that early period, ere they have acquired suffi- 
 cient habit to become, as it were, natural, they 
 too often become confirmed beyond the hope of 
 eradication. For this reason, I cannot but great- 
 ly uphold the system latterly introduced at fash- 
 ionable seminaries, of making young ladies go 
 through a drill; at the same time that I think 
 a more proper person than a serjeant of the 
 guards should be employed for this purpose. 
 With boys, this drill is highly requisite and bene- 
 ficial, as it widens and expands the chest, 
 straightens the person, and fixes the step and 
 carriage upon unerring principles. 
 22
 
 GENERAL DEPORTMENT. 
 
 A SUITABLE deportment is the proof of good 
 education and habitual sense of order : it height- 
 ens the value of intellectual attainments, as well 
 as constitutes a finish to beauty. 
 
 Mentioning the points of education for youth, 
 Lord Herbert of Cherbury says, " That dancing 
 may be learned first, as that which doth fashion 
 the body, gives one a good presence in and ad- 
 dress to all companies, since it disposeth the 
 limbs to a kind of souplesse (as the French call 
 it) and agility, insomuch as they seem to have 
 the use of their legs, arms and bodies, more than 
 any others, who, standing stiff and stark in their 
 postures, seem as if they were taken in their 
 joints, or had not the perfect use of their mem- 
 bers. I speak not this yet, as if I would have a 
 youth never stand still in company, but only that 
 when he hath occasion to stir, his motions may 
 23
 
 GENERAL DEPORTMENT 
 
 be comely and graceful ; that he may learn how 
 to come in, and go out of a room where company 
 is; how to make courtesies handsomely, according 
 to the several degrees of persons he shall en- 
 counter; how to put off, and hold his hat, all 
 which, and many other things which become 
 men, are taught by the more acccurate dancing 
 masters in France." 
 
 Gallini, a man far superior to dancing-masters 
 generally, has written an excellent paper on this 
 subject, which I am sure I shall gratify my read- 
 ers by quoting at some length. Had a name dis- 
 tinguished in literature been attached to it, it 
 would have been better known. 
 
 " Of how many captivating graces," says he, 
 " is not the deportment susceptible, where a pro- 
 per care is taken of improving the gifts of na- 
 ture 1 And in what does a graceful deportment 
 consist, but in holding up the head without stiff- 
 ness, and keeping the body upright without affec- 
 tation ] Ease in the vefrious attitudes, a gay, mo- 
 dest, and open countenance; a firm assured gait 
 24
 
 GENERAL DEPORTMENT. 
 
 without heaviness; light or airy without inde- 
 cency or precipitation ; a certain flexibility in the 
 limbs, a muscular agility, for the readily taking 
 all the characters, or making all the movements 
 requisite for expressing a due regard to one's 
 company ; to all these the body of man has from 
 its very infancy so natural a disposition, that 
 there is nothing more thu.n a moderate cultivation 
 Rpedful to accomplish one in them, joined with a 
 little of habit and attention to keep them up. 
 
 " When once a habit of easy dignity, with an 
 unaffected air of portliness, has been sufficiently 
 familiarized, it will constantly show itself in every 
 even the most indifferent gesture or action of the 
 possessor, and only the more so, for his being 
 himself unconscious and insensible of it. Does 
 he come into a room 7 His air immediately strikes 
 the company in his favour, and gives a prepos- 
 sessing idea to his advantage. He will then 
 have nothing to do but to keep up the impression 
 he will have made. 
 
 " Should a person even not have been favoured 
 25
 
 GENERAL DEPORTMENT. 
 
 by nature with the happiest of figures, it is still 
 in his power, if not totally to cure that defect, at 
 least, greatly to mend it, by the acquisition of 
 such a noble or graceful air, as may give all pos- 
 sible advantage to his appearance and demeanour, 
 and in some measure atone for the injuries of 
 nature. 
 
 " But how great, how cruel an injustice do 
 young gentlemen do to themselves, who, not only 
 advantaged by a distinguished birth, but withal 
 by a most regular figure, lose, or at least, greatly 
 lessen the effect of those advantages by a gross 
 and unpardonable neglect of their manner of de- 
 portment or gait, or carriage. Some you will 
 see with an ignoble slouch ; others distorting 
 their neck or body ; others turning their toes in- 
 ward ; some again with an awkward management 
 of their limbs, and many with these and other 
 defects all at once, not knowing how to walk, to 
 sit, to stand, or do any one action of life with 
 grace or propriety. Speak to them, they answer 
 either with a booby bashfulness, or worse yet, 
 26
 
 GENER.LL DEPORTMENT. 
 
 with a forward indecent pertness. Ask them to 
 sit down, some will just stick themselves on the 
 corner of the chair ; others leaning on the back 
 of it, as if glued to it. If a bow is to be made, 
 it is with scraping, or with shaking the head, or 
 throwing it in your face. If a curtesy, the 
 young untutored lady hangs her head, and makes 
 her obeisance with her eyes fixed on the ground, 
 or pokes out her head, sticking back lier arms, 
 like one of the figures in Hogarth's dance. Their 
 gait in walking is conformable to all this ; disa- 
 greeable and unsightly. 
 
 " But if such are the disadvantages of neglect- 
 ed improvement in fine and even amiable persons, 
 how much must bad be made still worse, where 
 the natural defect and imperfections of those to 
 whom nature will have been less kind, are left to 
 themselves without care or correction. 
 
 " It is tlien of great moment to inspire a just 
 idea of this importance of acquiring a distinguish- 
 ed air and deportment, into the earliest youth, at 
 that season of life, when they seize every lesson 
 27
 
 GENERAL DEPORTMENT, 
 
 with the greatest vivacity, and when every lesson 
 makes the strongest and most durable impression 
 on their tender minds. Then it is that, in the 
 very dawn of their reason, which it is so indis- 
 pensable a duty for those who have the care of 
 their education, to watch and to improve, not only 
 in this but in other points, it will be expedient to 
 apply to that innate pride, which, by giving to it 
 a proper direction, and by fixing it on great or 
 noble objects, becomes even a virtue, 
 
 " Nor can it well be called an exaggeration, or 
 a partiality to my profession, to reckon among the 
 noble objects of education, that of not only put- 
 ting a youth into the way of giving the utmost 
 value to his personal figure, by the improvement 
 of his air and deportment; but by inculcating 
 to him so useful a truth, as that even an opinion 
 of the elevation of the understanding, is in a 
 great measure regulated by the appearance, or 
 exterior air and carriage of the person. To 
 whom can it be unknown that all that power of 
 gesture, which Demosthenes considered as the 
 28
 
 GENERAL DEPORTMENT. 
 
 principal point in oratory, principally depends on 
 the acqusition of a proper air, and commanding- 
 ness of aspect, combined with a propriety of ges- 
 ture, and action 1 How justly does La Bruyere 
 observe, that a fool cannot sit down like a man 
 of sense 1 
 
 " It will certainly not give the sense, the know- 
 ledge which constitute the orator, therefore in 
 that light it can be of no service to a pretender 
 to oratory ; but where sense and knowledge 
 really exist, it will greatly increase his powers 
 and efficacy in the production of them to his 
 audience, 
 
 "And even when persons, either from a natural 
 incapacity, or from want of sufficient study, con- 
 fine themselves to silence, without pretensions to 
 epeak, their defects receive a most friendly and 
 desirable cover from that air of politeness, of 
 propriety of demeanour, which even dignifies 
 silence, and does justice to the motives of it, 
 when they are founded upon a modest conscious- 
 ness of insufficiency for attempts at oratory ; an 
 29
 
 GENERAL DEPOIITMENT. 
 
 insufficiency which not unfrequently goes with 
 an excellent understanding. Nay, this very air 
 and demeanour, for the importance of the acqui- 
 sition of which I am contending-, has often made 
 a silence owing to incapacity, suspected of higher 
 motives, and rather of an excess of reserve and 
 discretion, than of a defect of abilities. 
 
 "I have precedently observed, that youth, 
 from its flexibility, its readiness to receive and 
 retain the habits contracted in that happy age, is 
 the fittest season for instruction of all kinds. 
 And surely w^hile nothing can be a truer axiom, 
 than that a good habit is more easily to be con- 
 tracted than a bad one, must it not be rather 
 a cruel neglect, to lapse that time, that perhaps 
 irretrievable time, without the requisite cultiva- 
 tion and improvement of it 1 Then it is that na- 
 ture being the most susceptible of the adventitious 
 perfection of art, may be said to invoke its aid, to 
 form an accomplished total : for nature can only 
 give graces, but it is art that gives grace itself. 
 
 " It is then hardly possible to recommend too 
 30
 
 GENERAL DEPORTMENT. 
 
 much the power of this art, to assist youth in 
 forming such a noble and distinguishing" air and 
 deportment as will give them that ever valuable 
 advantage of favourable impressions, at the first 
 sight, a prejudice not easily to be cancelled ; but 
 the means to preserve those impressions, by a 
 continuance of that winning air and manner 
 which will have at the first made them ; an air, 
 that, as I have before observed, often renders 
 even silence eloquent; an air that always im- 
 plies an excellent education, and sometimes sup- 
 poses a natural elevation of mind, even where it 
 does not always exist ; though without it, such 
 an air is rarely indeed attainable to any degree 
 of perfection. It never fails of raising to all ap- 
 pearance mediocrity many degrees above its real 
 merit. And who does not know the force and 
 importance of appearances 1 
 
 " This air, always so valuable, and on many oc- 
 casions in life of such infinite service to the pos- 
 sessor, can never be the produce of a moment : 
 but, to be effectual, must be habitual. It must 
 31
 
 GENERAL DEPORTMENT. 
 
 have been acquired by instruction, by observation, 
 and especially by keeping the best company, 
 among vi^hich it is constantly practised. A per- 
 son unused to it, would, in vain, try to put it on, 
 for any particular occasion. The novelty of it to 
 him would sit awkwardly upon him, and the tem- 
 porary affectation be too gross to pass. It would 
 be instantly seen through, and the stiffness 
 with straining for it be even ridiculous. The 
 grace of ease can never be acted, it must have 
 stolen into second and better nature in virtue of 
 a habit, contracted not to destroy the first nature, 
 but only to improve and embellish it. Thus the 
 polishing gold does not injure the colour, but adds 
 lustre to it. A person who has once got this 
 habit of a noble, decent, graceful air, needs be in 
 no fear of losing it, if he takes but the least care 
 to keep it up. The difficulty for him would be 
 not to show it in his every action and gesture. 
 He will then be at the happy point of that advan- 
 tage being as natural to him, as the contrary de- 
 32
 
 GENERAL DEPORTMENT. 
 
 feet will be to those who shall have neglected to 
 acquire it, 
 
 " It will also be the first quality, as being an 
 external one, that will strike the more imme- 
 diately, those who see him. It will be to them 
 precisely what a great mass of light is in a 
 painting, which at the first glance over it com- 
 mands the eye from attention to the shades of it. 
 Whereas, in the case of an awkward, clumsy, 
 ungenteel air, its disagreeable effect is like that 
 of a distorted limb, or a false attitude, in the 
 painting of a human figure, which strikes alike 
 the connoisseurs, and the ignorant, who judge 
 of nature from nature itself 
 
 "There is then nothing, which regards the 
 personal exterior, that ought to be more guarded 
 against than a bad habit. The unconsciousness 
 of it being, in most people, the reason for their 
 not trying to get rid of it, those can never be 
 the true friends, or the proper directors of youth, 
 who do not make them sensible of their interest 
 in attending to this point. Many, indeed, blinded
 
 GENERAL DEPORTMENT. 
 
 by partiality, do not see the fault in such as are 
 dear to them, and are consequently the authors 
 or causes of a neglect they will have often occa- 
 sion to repent, a prepossessing exterior being 
 one of the master-keys to the human heart. 
 
 " Nor is the instruction proper for forming the 
 air or carriage, confined to the limbs and body. 
 The looks of a person make an essential part, 
 as they give life and soul to the whole ; they are 
 to the whole what the sun is to a rich landscape 
 of Claude Lorraine, where its effects declare the 
 presence of a luminary beyond the reach of ex- 
 pression in painting. A modest graceful look, 
 with ease in the manner of carriage, irresistibly 
 captivates. Even in the greatest sallies of viva- 
 city, that decency of look, that grace of ease, 
 should never abandon us in our actions or speech. 
 
 " It is also remarkable that the habitual tenor 
 of this elegant air, this dignity of port, being 
 once framed, it enforces all that is said, with 
 much more weight than an occasional vehemence 
 of tone or gesture, by fits and starts, which be- 
 34
 
 GENERAL DEPORTMENT. 
 
 trays too much of passion not to beget in others 
 prejudice or indisposition ; whereas, elegance of 
 deportment, always supposing education, carries 
 also with it more of the air and authority of rea- 
 son. In the one, oratory is too theatrical, in the 
 other, it is more in the character of a statesman, 
 master of his subject and of himself. Thus a 
 great and sublime sentiment, delivered with the 
 flow of ease, and with the grace of gesture, es- 
 pecially without the appearance of any affectation, 
 or consciousness of producing any thing extraor- 
 dinary, makes a ten times greater impression than 
 when the same sentiment is flung at the head of 
 the hearers, with violent contortions, and strain- 
 ing for a pathos which never comes to those who 
 strain for it, but in a form that oftener produces 
 derision than admiration. 
 
 "Neither must that air, the acquisition of 
 which I am recommending, ever appear to be the 
 effect of study ; the beauty, the energy of it, is 
 to seem something innate, and not acquired. 
 The whole grace of it vanishes, when it is per- 
 ,35
 
 GENERAL DEPORTMENT. 
 
 ceived to be an art. It must have been insensi- 
 bly melted into the whole frame and behaviour; 
 a natural, not an adscititious advantage. 
 
 " But the great and indispensable preliminary 
 to the teaching a good air, must be the cure of 
 such defects as go to the forming of a bad one. 
 Even such as are naturally incurable, may, like 
 those bodily disorders which do not admit of a 
 thorough extirpation, be susceptible at least of 
 mitigation and amendment: a low stature, a wry 
 shape, a prominent back, splay or bandy-legs, 
 which no art can well redress, may still be ren- 
 dered more tolerable or less disagreeable by 
 accompanying advantages of improvement of the 
 air and manner. The very worst of figures may 
 be presented in less unfavourable lights ; a point 
 this, which it is much for their interest to con- 
 sult : with this farther most just and most salu- 
 tary advertence, that with great superiority to 
 those graces to be acquired by good breeding, 
 the charms of the understanding, and the virtue 
 of the heart will ever have a signal influence 
 36
 
 GENERAL DEPORTMENT. 
 
 even over the exterior itself, through which it 
 will not only be sensibly diffused, but carry with 
 it also that ever desirable power of so much pre- 
 possessing others in its favour, as to absorb all 
 the attention to the figure itselt! 
 
 *• The defects, which with attention and care 
 are absolutely not incurable, are of two kinds, 
 derived from nature, or contracted by habit. 
 
 "As to those defects proceeding from nature; 
 as for example, a harsh, sour, lowering counte- 
 nance, a proud insolent air, of which the possess- 
 or may be perfectly unconscious; the friendly 
 part to him would be to make him, without stiff- 
 ening him in such an air by offensively remarking 
 it to him, sensible of the disadvantage of it to his 
 own happiness, and to the interest he has in 
 being pleasing to society. If such a countenance 
 or air proceeds from a bad heart, or a constitu- 
 tional depravity of the mind, the cure will be 
 the more difficult. Otherwise, as upon convic- 
 tion, the change from bad to good, is an in- 
 stinctive inclination of nature, it would not even 
 37
 
 GENERAL DEPORTMENT. 
 
 be very difficult to give a new cast to the looks, 
 a new disposition to the air, gait and carriage, 
 by recommending proper models of imitation, by 
 showing the possibility and means of habitually 
 throwing into the looks a more placid serenity, 
 and into the air and deportment a more modest 
 and engaging manner: when independently of 
 the lessons of art, nothing will have more effica- 
 cy than inculcating the necessity of politeness ; 
 not that hollow unmeaning common-place polite- 
 ness, the affectation and disguise from which are 
 so much in vain, since they are presently seen 
 through, or felt, but that genuine and truly amia- 
 ble politeness of the heart, which gives grace to 
 every gesture, and irresistible charms to every 
 word or action. 
 
 "As for the defects merely from bad habits, 
 their cure is precisely like that of other bodily 
 disorders, by contraries : and that not by offering 
 audden violence to them, but by gentle degrees 
 of eradication. 
 
 "Nothing is more frequent than for persons to 
 38
 
 GENERAL DEPORTMENT. 
 
 have contracted some particular hauk of gesture, 
 of holding or managing the hands, of sticking 
 out the elbows, of, in short, some untoward or 
 ungraceful attitude, grown by use into second 
 nature, and sometimes even by mere dint of mi- 
 micry. 
 
 " There are some faults, too, of which the cause 
 is so amiable, and, abstracted from them, so 
 pleasing, that they the more require the teacher's 
 lessons of guarding against them, or of removing 
 them where the habit of them is already con- 
 tracted ; such, for example,^as the too common 
 practice of some young ladies, who purely from 
 a natural disposition to clieerfulness and gaiety, 
 and without any the least thought of ill-nature, 
 of censoriousness, or designed offence, will, when 
 a stranger comes into a room, clustering and lay- 
 ing their heads together, keep tittering and laugh- 
 ing; which not only distresses the new comer, 
 but gives to themselves an air of levity and un- 
 der-breeding, which robs them of their greatest 
 graces of delicacy and politeness. | ^ %^
 
 GENERAL DEPORTMENT. 
 
 "In all cases, then, of disagreeable habit, a 
 teacher's duty is to inculcate strenuously the 
 necessity of getting the better of that recurring 
 propensity, by a sedulous attention to the avoid- 
 ing it, and by recovering the liberty of nature, 
 to give that graceful eqise and flowingness of 
 movements and gesture, which bestow on the 
 person the greatest advantage of which it is 
 susceptible. 
 
 "But as every different scholar requires in 
 some degree different lessons, according to their 
 peculiar turn or dispositions, it is evidently 
 impossible to convey, by writing, such general 
 instructions as would be of use to the public. 
 Practice, personal observation, and the lessons 
 not only of the teachers of this art, but the ad- 
 vice of such parents and guardians of youth as 
 are themselves masters of good breeding and 
 knowledge of the polite world, must be the best 
 means of forming the objects of their care and 
 tuition to that desirable point of perfection in 
 especially what relates to the air or port of the 
 40
 
 GENERAL DEPORTMENT. 
 
 person; of which one of our celebrated poets had 
 60 high a conception, that he said it might of 
 itself stand for a patrimony, 
 
 ♦Patrimonio assai grande 
 E un costume gentjl.'" 
 
 We are now naturally led to ask where guid- 
 ance or models of deportment may be best found. 
 
 "Good company," says Duclos, "resembles a 
 dispersed republic ; the members of it are found 
 in all classes : independent of rank and station, 
 it exists only amongst those who think and feel, 
 amongst those who possess correct ideas and ho- 
 nourable sentiments." 
 
 The highest classes, constantly occupied with 
 the absorbing interests of wealth and ambition, 
 formerly introduced into their magnificent sa- 
 loons, a grave and almost diplomatic stiffness of 
 manners, of which the solemnity banished nature 
 and freedom. The amusements of the lowest 
 classes, which rather resemble a toil than a re- 
 creation, present to the spectator a procedure 
 irreconcilable to good taste. 
 41
 
 GENERAL DEPORTMENT. 
 
 There are, moreover, too many points of re- 
 semblance between the manners and education 
 of the higher and lower classes, to admit of our 
 finding- the elements of good society in either of 
 tliem. The lower orders are ignorant from want 
 of means of instruction ; the higher, from indo- 
 lence and perpetually increasing incapacity, 
 
 It is, besides, not a little curious that, even in 
 the bygone days of ceremonious manners, the 
 higher classes, by whom they were practised, 
 were uniformly taught them by those illiterate 
 persons of the lower classes who almost alone 
 practise the art of dancing-masters. 
 
 It is, therefore, to the middle class almost ex- 
 clusively that we must look for good society ; to 
 that class which, enjoying the aurea mediocritas 
 of Horace, has not its ideas contracted by labo- 
 rious occupations, nor its mental powers annihi- 
 lated by luxury. 
 
 In this class, it is truly observed, society is 
 often full of charm : every one seems, according 
 to the precept of La Bruyere, " anxious both by 
 42
 
 GENERAL DEPORTMENT. 
 
 words and manners to make others pleased with 
 him, and with themselves." There are slight 
 differences of character, opinion and interest, but 
 there is no prevailing style, no singular or affect- 
 ed customs. An unperceived interchange of ideas 
 and kind offices produces a delightful harmony 
 of thoughts and sentiments ; and the wish to 
 please inspires those affectionate manners, those 
 obliging expressions, and those unstained atten- 
 tions, which alone render social unions pleasant 
 and desirable. 
 
 Natural politeness is particularly agreeable; 
 there is nothing stiff or constrained in it, and it 
 has all the charm of good nature. The arbitrary 
 politeness of affected people is ceremonious, ex- 
 aggerated, and troublesome. From this, we are 
 for ever rescued by the great change which has 
 taken place in society, as well as from those ridi- 
 culous or contemptible secrets of politeness which 
 were known only to the initiated, and of which 
 I will now give a specimen from a French 
 writer who does not yet see that such things are 
 43
 
 GENERAL DEPORTMENT. 
 
 mere provincialitus (for so they must be called 
 in relation to the great theatre of the world) — 
 trifles now felt to be beneath contempt — imperti- 
 nences which are banished for ever. — But, to the 
 specimen. 
 
 "All the intellect in the world, (says this 
 writer,) will not do as a substitute for the know- 
 ledge of those delicate manners in society which 
 are established by custom. Men of intellect, and 
 even of genius, have often conducted themselves 
 in society like ill-bred children : one example 
 will suffice as proof of this. 
 
 " The Abbe Cosson, professor of belles lettrea 
 at the College Mazarin, a perfect paragon in the 
 art of teaching, overflov/ing with Latin, Greek 
 and literature, thought himself a fountain of sci- 
 ence; he imagined it impossible that a man 
 familiar with Persius and Horace could commit 
 any breach of established rules, especially at 
 table : but he was not long suffered to remain in 
 this pleasing state of ignorance. One day he 
 had been dining at Versailles with the Abbe Ra- 
 44
 
 GENERAL DEPORTMENT. 
 
 donvillers, in company with several courtiers,' 
 blue ribbons, and marshals of France. He was 
 afterwards boasting of having- displayed a rare 
 knowledge of etiquette and established forms. The 
 Abbe Delille, who was present at this discourse, 
 offered to wager that he had committed a hundred 
 incongruities. ' Impossible (said the Abbe Cosson ;) 
 I did as all the rest did.' — ' What presumption ! 
 (replied Delille ; ) I will show you that you did 
 nothing like any body else. We will confine 
 ourselves to the dinner: first of all, what did you 
 do with your napkin on taking your seat at the 
 table V — ' What did I do with my napkin I what 
 every body else did : I opened it, spread it on my 
 breast, and fastened it by one corner to my button 
 hole.' — ' Alas ! my good fellow, you were the 
 only one that did so : gentlemen do not make a 
 display of the napkin ; they leave it upon their 
 knees. And pray how did you eat your soup]' — 
 *As every one else did, I believe. I took my 
 spoon in one hand, and my fork in the other.' — 
 ' A fork ! good God, nobody eats soup with a fork ; 
 45
 
 GENiERAL DEPORTMENT. 
 
 — but proceed. What did you take after soupl' — 
 ' A new-laid eg-^.' — ' And what did you do with 
 the shell V — * What every one else did ; I left it 
 for the servant that waited.' — ' Without breaking 
 it 7' — 'Yes.' — 'My poor friend, no one eats an 
 egg without breaking the shell. And after your 
 eggV — ' I asked for some bouilli.' — ' Bouilli ! no- 
 body makes use of such an expression ; people 
 ask for beef. And then]'— 'I asked tfie Abbe 
 Radonvillers to send me a portion of very fine 
 fowl.' — ' A fine fowl ! unfortunate man ! people 
 ask for a pullet, a capon, or a chicken ; the word 
 fowl is never heard but in the servants' hall. But 
 you have not told me how you asked for drink.' — 
 ' Like the rest of the company ; I asked for Bor- 
 deaux and Champagne, of those who were near 
 the decanters.' — ' Recollect then, that people ask 
 for Bordeaux wine, and Champagne wine. But 
 tell me, how did you eat your bread V — ' Of course 
 as every one else did ; I cut it with my knife.' — 
 ' Dreadful ! people break their bread ; they do not 
 cut it. But to proceed ; you took coff*ee ?'t-' Yes, 
 46
 
 GENERAL DEPORTMENT. 
 
 like the rest. It was very hot, and I poured it 
 out in small quantities from the cup into the sau- 
 cer.' — ' Well, my ^ood fellow, you certainly were 
 singular in that respect ; people drink coffee from 
 a cup, no one ever thinks of pouring it into a 
 saucer. You see, my dear Cosson, you have not 
 said a word, or made a single movement, without 
 a violation of the established custom.' The good 
 professor was thunderstruck. He found out that 
 Latin and Greek are not sufRcient, and that a 
 man of the world must obtain other acquirements, 
 which, if not so important, are not less useful. 
 
 Now, common sense would point out to a do- 
 cile man in any country the impropriety of 
 spreading a napkin over his person at dinner, 
 because it is a declaration of dirtiness to be com- 
 mitted by him, and to be contemplated by the 
 rest of the company ; — and so of eating soup with 
 a fork of cutting the bread before him instead 
 of breaking it, and of pouring coffee or tea into 
 a saucer. But whether he break an egg-shell 
 or leave it entire, whether he ask for boiled meat 
 47
 
 GENERAL DEPORTMENT. 
 
 or beef for fowl or pullet, for Bordeaux or Bor- 
 deaux wine, deserves a moment's consideration 
 only from an imbecile. These things are the 
 little contrivances of cunninsr idiots, a numerous 
 class, who, lacking- all real knowledge, think 
 thus to distinguish themselves ; they differ in 
 every province or parish ; and a man of the 
 smallest intellect would be disgraced by knowing 
 them. 
 
 A dignified and graceful deportment, equally 
 removed from frivolity and affectation, appears at 
 first so simple,>easy and natural, that it seems im- 
 pertinent to lay down rules for it. The manners 
 and style, moreover, of good society can never be 
 acquired from books. There are, however, a few 
 rules (subject to many exceptions and variations, 
 without the slightest discredit either to nations 
 or individuals, except from the cunning idiots de- 
 scribed above,) which may be termed its more 
 material conditions. It then remains for every 
 one by moral disposition and by natural grace to 
 ' supply the last finish. 
 
 48
 
 GENERAL DEPORTMENT. 
 
 Common sense tells us that if a friend return 
 from a far journey, or after a long absence, we 
 should pay the first and earliest visit; and that, 
 in other cases, we should punctually return visits 
 paid to us, unless we desire to avoid the society 
 of those who have visited us. 
 
 In a visit of ceremony during" winter, ladies 
 properly quit their cloak in an antechamber, how- 
 ever splendid it may be. The bonnet and 
 shawl, in a similar case, they as properly retain ; 
 and indeed, except when visiting an intimate 
 friend, it is evident that they should not take 
 these off, unless at the express invitation of the 
 lady visited, or after requesting permission. 
 
 Where suitable accommodation exists, the lady 
 visiting is duly announced ; and, in any case, it is 
 evident that to enter a room without being in 
 some way announced, is barbarous. If there is 
 no one to introduce the lady, she knocks gently, 
 nd waits a few seconds before opening the door, 
 unless told to walk in. She may thus frequently 
 avoid embarrassing situations. 
 D 49
 
 GENERAL DEPORTMENT. 
 
 There are various modes of saluting" ; and, in 
 accordance with the relation of the parties, the 
 salutation will naturally be respectful, warm, 
 polite, affectionate, or familiar. 
 
 The curtsey,* to ensure ease and grace in the 
 inevitably complex motions of the limbs, is per- 
 formed as follows: — When walking, the lady 
 stops in such a manner that the weight of the 
 body may rest upon the limb which is advanced. 
 Then, moving the foot which is behind from the 
 fourth hinder position, she causes it to assume 
 successively the third and the second. Having 
 arrived at the latter, she shifts the weight of the 
 body upon the leg forming it, brings the other 
 into the third position behind, and, inclining- the 
 body slightly forward, passes it immediately into 
 the fourth behind. Preserving still the weight 
 on the advanced leg, the knees must now bend, 
 and the head and body further incline, and gen- 
 tly sink, to complete the curtsey. While rising, 
 
 *A slight lowering of the person, as a mark of respect, 
 seems natural enough, and is observed among most natlonB. 
 
 50
 
 GENERAL DEPORTMENT. 
 
 the weight is transferred to the foot behind, and 
 the advanced foot is gradually brought into the 
 fourth position. The arms should be gracefully 
 bent, and the hands occupied in lightly holding 
 out the dress. In walking, after the curtsey, the 
 first step is made with the foot which happens to 
 be forward at its completion. 
 
 A slighter form of the curtsey, more applicable 
 to passing onward after it is made, is performed 
 while walking, by bringing the foot of the side next 
 to the person curtseyed to in advance at the mo- 
 ment of passing, throwing the weight upon it, 
 turning the head as the person passes, bending 
 the knees, inclining the head and body at the 
 same time, and then throwing, in the rise, the 
 weight on the foot behind, and continuing the 
 walk either by means of the foot which is ad- 
 vanced, or of that which is not so. 
 
 A still lighter and gayer form is to make, at 
 
 the moment of passing, a slight hop on the foot 
 
 furthest from the person curtseyed to, as the 
 
 nearer one passes forward, and then, keeping 
 
 51
 
 GENERAL DEPORTMENT. 
 
 straight the nearer or advanced limb, which 
 principally supports the weight, and turning the 
 head as the person passes, to incline the body 
 from the hips forward, and toward that person. 
 
 In entering a room where there is a nurJlber of 
 persons, a lady, glancing round the room, natu- 
 rally salutes them all at once with a more or less 
 formal curtsey, and addresses herself especially 
 to the lady of the house. This being done, she 
 joins the company, and takes the first opportunity 
 of joining also the conversation. 
 
 In the introduction of a person entering a 
 room, the person entering is naturally first 
 named, and next the person to whom the intro- 
 duction is made, and the curtsey is reciprocal. In 
 an accidental meeting, it is similarly the new 
 comer who is first named to the larger party, and 
 then, if necessary, each of the latter in succes- 
 sion. 
 
 In France, where less deference is paid to rank 
 than in England, in the case of a dinner-party, 
 when dinner is announced, the mistress or the 
 52
 
 GENERAL DEPORTMENT. 
 
 master of the house gets up, invites the company 
 to follow to tlie dining-room, and sets them the 
 example by passing out first. In this case, no 
 one rises before the mistress or master of the 
 house, and every gentleman, offers his arm to a 
 lady to conduct her to the place where she is 
 to sit. 
 
 A French writer accuses the English of " the 
 base sycophancy of insulting age the most vene- 
 rable, and genius the most admirable, by giving 
 precedence at table to titled idiotcy,^^ &c. &c. 
 He is wrong : this was indeed once found there, 
 as it now is in Germany ; but the liberal and be- 
 nevolent spirit of the age has banished such stu- 
 pidities, and they are now chiefly to be seen 
 among the cunning idiots mentioned above, or 
 among vulgar upstarts, where their practice is 
 the object of scarcely restrained laughter to en- 
 lightened persons. 
 
 In accepting a gentleman's arm, the lady 
 usually passes her hand and wrist within the 
 gentleman's forearm ; but this junction of arms 
 53
 
 GENERAL DEPORTMENT. 
 
 seems to me too complex and intimate for so 
 short a journey, and it seems easier and more 
 suitable for the lady to place her hand exteriorly 
 upon the gentleman's wrist, which on his part it 
 is certainly not less respectful properly to pre- 
 sent. In ascending or descending stairs, she 
 takes the side on which the steps are most regu- 
 lar and convenient. 
 
 In sitting, the position of the limbs has consi- 
 derable influence on the beauty of the figure. 
 
 The knees are generally left one by the other, 
 scarcely separated. Though they should not be 
 turned in, it is highly improper to turn them out 
 in too marked a manner. It is scarcely necessary 
 to say, that to cross them one over the other, and 
 to embrace them with the hands joined, is deemed 
 vulgar. 
 
 To stretch out the legs while sitting, announces 
 conceit and pride ; and to bend them up, gives a 
 timid and frightened air. 
 
 When a lady is sitting, she generally keeps 
 the feet but little apart, or even crossed one over 
 54
 
 GENERAL DEPORTMENT, 
 
 the other, the right perhaps over the left, reclin- 
 ing on the toe and side, which certainly does not 
 give to the foot the appearance of being less 
 small and elegant. She in general also lowers 
 the gown and covers the heel, so as to show little 
 more than half the foot. 
 
 The position of the arms requires attention. 
 
 The general positions for the arms are about 
 the level of the waist, never hanging down or 
 being quite stiff, but being gently bent, the elbow 
 a little raised, the fingers not stretched out stiffly, 
 but also a little bent, and partially separated, or 
 the hands half crossed one over the other, or 
 placed in each other, &c. But every one will 
 vary all these positions from time to time, as 
 stiffness destroys all elegance and grace. 
 
 Several positions of the arms are vulgar: 
 amongst others, the custom of spreading the 
 hands separated upon the knees ; that of leaning 
 forward and placing the arms upon the thighs ; 
 and that of crossing them so as to place the 
 elbows in the opposite hands. That of throw- 
 55
 
 GENERAL DEPORTMENT. 
 
 ing them back too much, and keeping them 
 close to the side which is termed grasshopper- 
 fashion, because the arms thus trussed bear no 
 little resemblance to the elytra of the large 
 green grasshopper when in a state of repose, is 
 a mark of affectation, and is generally connected 
 with prudery and conceit. 
 
 As to the BODY, the shoulders and chest are 
 kept in position at the same time, but not at the 
 expense of each other. This is effected by straight- 
 ening the back naturally, and keeping the neck 
 in a good position. 
 
 The movements of the body, such as quarter- 
 turns and half-turns, should be as natural and as 
 easy as the involuntary motion of the eyelids. A 
 lady who turns stiffly, or, as they vulgarly say, 
 all of a piece, is like the automaton, which moves 
 only by a spring. 
 
 The position of the neck is of importance, as 
 
 from its intermediate place, it influences both the 
 
 figure and the face. The neck inclining forward 
 
 makes the back round, makes the chin pointed, 
 
 56
 
 GENERAL DEPORTMENT. 
 
 and gives the whole figure an appearance of em- 
 barrassment. Leaning backwards, it swells in 
 front, throws back the head in a ridiculous man- 
 ner, and fatigues the sight by its constrained atti- 
 tude. Quite straight, it wants elegance. It is 
 therefore, generally inclined a little to one side, 
 by a gentle and almost imperceptible movement, 
 which gives it a softer character, and a more 
 feminine expression ; but it is thus apt to acquire 
 the character of affectation. 
 
 Grace and ease of attitude greatly increase 
 the beauty of all parts of the body ; whilst awk- 
 wardness and stiffness so diminish it as to destroy 
 its value ; and affectation, pretension, or negli- 
 gence, render it offensive. 
 
 The expression of the face should be under 
 control in all cases. Attention, astonishment, 
 surprise, joy, and admiration, carried to an excess, 
 are as unpleasant as great egotism, sorrow, fear, 
 or insolence. The play of the countenance should 
 be very marked on the stage to give force to 
 the dialogue, and interest to the scene repre- 
 57
 
 GENERAX DEPORTMENT. 
 
 sented ; but this should not be the case in society, 
 where we sliould always preserve a certain dig- 
 nified respect for ourselves, and for the company. 
 
 In relation to conversation, as most people 
 go into society in the evening to relieve them 
 selves from the pursuits of the morning, it is not 
 proper to talk to any one upon the subject of his 
 daily occupation. Thus we do not talk politics 
 with an editor, law with a barrister, or medicine 
 with a doctor. 
 
 It is necessary, if we go into society, to keep 
 up a knowledge of what is going forward in the 
 world ; for, without this, conversation is impos- 
 sible. 
 
 The conversation and even the tone of the 
 voice should be always in accordance with the 
 circumstances under which the visit is paid. 
 
 In all mixed companies, it is wise to avoid re- 
 marks condemnatory of classes and professions, 
 doctors, lawyers, or clergymen : and it is prudent 
 to learn enough of the immediate connexions of 
 persons present, to avoid giving pain. 
 58
 
 GENERAL DErORTMENT. 
 
 Scandal was formerly tlie disgrace of society : 
 it is now felt to be base and detestable. Even 
 satire, sneering, and mimicry are most unlady- 
 like qualifications. 
 
 Very animated conversation, a loud voice, im- 
 moderate laughter, and everything Vv'hich disturbs 
 the repose and liarmony of the features, disturbs 
 propriety and deteriorates beauty. 
 
 In relation to the management of dress in 
 society, it may be observed that if the fire incom- 
 modes, a lady may, without impropriety, hold at a 
 distance from the face a handkerchief or reticule ; 
 but it would be ridiculous to endeavour to pro- 
 tect clothes from the action of the fire by raising 
 them up, doubling them back, or spreading a 
 handkerchief over the dress. 
 
 It is also vulgar to be conspicuously careful of 
 things which have been taken off, and impolite to 
 manifest regret for any accident that may have 
 befallen dress, such as spots, rents, burns. Good 
 manners require that ladies should pay no atten- 
 tion to these, because that would give useless 
 59
 
 GENERAL DEPORTMENT. 
 
 pain to others, and should hasten to turn the con- 
 versation to some other subject, thanking the 
 mistress of the house for the anxiety she may- 
 manifest upon the subject. 
 
 Every one has often seen stiff country ladies 
 in full dress fold up their shawl square, put down 
 the bonnet with care, take it up again, and re- 
 place it so as to be assured that no contact can 
 rumple the trimming. Every one has seen them 
 at table spread out and then affectedly double 
 back their gown, spread out the napkin with con- 
 spicuous care, and recommend to the servants to 
 be careful in serving. Every one has seen them, 
 with troubled look, following the plate which 
 passes over their shoulders, push back the chair 
 when their neighbour is going to carve, and re- 
 double their anxiety when the champagne froths 
 up close beside them. 
 
 These spectacles are by no means rare : they 
 make us laugh, and speedily turn away the 
 eyes to fix them with pleasure upon those amia- 
 ble ladies of perfect neatness or complete ele-, 
 60
 
 GENERAL DEPORTMENT. 
 
 gance, who forget their dress, and exhibit an 
 ease and bearing of the highest character. 
 
 The duties of a lady receiving visitors are not 
 trifling. She is careful that all her visitors are 
 satisfied, without, however, displaying any affecta- 
 tion. This task is particularly difficult when the 
 evening is passed in dancing; for she must 
 observe, without appearing to do so, the ladies 
 who are not dancing, and send them partners, 
 taking especial care that they do not observe her 
 commission. And to fulfil properly these duties, 
 the mistress of the house should dance but little. 
 
 If a lady is merely invited to a ball, her duties 
 are less peremptory and less numerous, but not 
 on that account less indispensable. She is bound 
 to receive, with a modest and smiling mien, all 
 partners, whatever their age or rank. She ad- 
 dresses a few words with politeness to her neigh- 
 bours even though unknown to her. If they 
 dance much, she compliments them upon their 
 success; and if, on the contrary, they are left 
 alone, she does not seem to perceive it, especially 
 61
 
 GENERAL DEPORTMENT. 
 
 if she has been more fortunate : she is careful 
 not to speak of her fatig-ue. or to evince an insult- 
 ing compassion ; and, if she can, she contributes 
 to procure them partners, without their in any 
 way suspecting her of the performance of such an 
 office. 
 
 In getting into a carriage, the lady gives one 
 hand to the gentleman assisting her, and raises 
 her dress with the other. 
 
 In mounting on horseback, the lady places her 
 right hand on the pommel of the saddle, her left 
 foot in the right hand of the gentleman assisting 
 her, who stoops to receive it, and her left hand on 
 his shoulder. Then, straightening her left knee, 
 she bears her weight on the gentleman's right 
 hand, which he gradually raises, until she is 
 seated on the saddle. 
 
 62
 
 MANNERS IN COMPANY. 
 ENTERING AND LEAVING THE ROOM. 
 
 First impressions are commonly allowed to be 
 powerful ; a sufficient reason, certainly, why 
 every one should endeavour to render them as 
 pleasingly in their favour, as they possibly can. 
 This can only be done by attention and study. 
 Manners and appearance first become objects of 
 notice on an individual's entrance into a room ; 
 this, with the manner that should be pursued on 
 quitting- it, we shall now proceed to notice. 
 
 To the young and unpractised debutante, no- 
 thing- is more trying to the nerves than entering 
 rooms filled with elegance and fashion. We will 
 suppose the young lady under the escort and 
 protection of her family, and therefore in some 
 manner shielded from the observation and well- 
 bred (we should write fashionable) stare of a 
 63
 
 MANNERS IN COMPANY. 
 
 few score belles and beaux. But with the young 
 man this is different : he at once becomes a sub- 
 ject of notice, and if distinguished by any pecu- 
 liarity of gait or clumsiness of appearance, is 
 instantly set down as a " Vandal," or a " Goth ;" 
 names of a most significant meaning in the upper 
 orders of society. The consequence of this is, 
 that instead of being well received in fresh so- 
 ciety, he finds himself a marked individual ; this 
 too often produces a distaste for any new ac- 
 quaintance, and engenders a love of sedentary 
 habits and solitude. With the female sensitive 
 mind, this is more particularly liable to be the 
 case ; or, if it have not the above effect, it often 
 occasions a feeling of reserve and shyness that 
 perhaps is never afterwards thoroughly eradi- 
 cated. 
 
 To prevent, therefore, the errors incident to 
 introducing young persons into a state of things 
 they have not been previously fitted to appreciate 
 and enjoy, and still less to shine in, I shall beg 
 leave to submit a few remarks on education, to 
 64
 
 MANNERS IN COMPANY. 
 
 the consideration of parents and guardians, that, 
 at the same time, perhaps, may benefit the more 
 juvenile reader. 
 
 Education it is that makes the man or woman : 
 to this, we may trace, generally, the origin of 
 grace and elegance, or, pernicious and uno-ainly 
 habits, that exercise a sway through the after- 
 lives of individuals. To sow well, it has been 
 observed, is to reap well ; for it is at this proba- 
 tionary period that good seeds should be set to 
 bring forth " good fruits." If children be early 
 taught good manners, it follows as almost a mat- 
 ter of course, that they become natural and easy, 
 and a portion of themselves, and it would be as 
 difficult in after-life to eradicate them, as it often 
 is to reform, bad manners. I would have boys, 
 after being well-educated at a public school, be 
 enabled to dance with elegance, and fence with 
 grace : these accomplishments, while they im- 
 prove the health and vigour of the person, fix 
 and determine a certain dignity in the carriage, 
 that should be a distinguished criterion of ele- 
 E 65
 
 MANNERS IN COMPANY, 
 
 g-ance. Instructed in all the minutiae and eti- 
 quette of the ball-room and dinner-table, and 
 having well learnt the self-possession of ease in 
 the first circles, he becomes an ornament to so- 
 ciety, and a pride to his family, requiring but the 
 "tour," with the knowledge of the French and 
 Italian languages, to make him a finished gentle- 
 man. 
 
 Among the pleasing accomplishments, too, that 
 all men should possess some knowledge of, if 
 they have natural capabilities for them, are music 
 and singing. With regard to the acquisition of 
 the deep and learned college education, that most 
 people of consequence are desirous of giving 
 their sons, I am convinced it is any thing but ju- 
 dicious, without indeed they be intended for one 
 of the learned professions : in most acquaintances 
 and invitations among the company which, in 
 good society, is so common, he gets generally 
 avoided or unnoticed ; and all, probably, because 
 there is a want of good-breeding distinguishable 
 in his manner or appearance. Indeed, on his en- 
 66
 
 MANNERS IN COMPANY. 
 
 trance into a room, a hesitating state, a wavering 
 look, as though the sight were novel, and he 
 knew not how to proceed, at once serves to mark 
 his ignorance of the customs of well-bred peo- 
 ple, and is full as displeasing to his entertainers 
 as a pert and vulgar familiarity, on the other 
 hand, is disgusting. 
 
 Allow me to mark the line to be observed : On 
 a visitor being announced, on his entering a suit 
 of rooms thrown open (say for an evening party,) 
 his first duty is to pay his respects to the hostess, 
 with such short pithy inquiries and compliments 
 as may be most acceptable. To do this well, re- 
 quires a gentlemanly off-hand ease and elegance, 
 that must spring from perfect self-composure. 
 This entre should be distinguished by a graceful 
 bow, that more particularly tends to work a per- 
 sonal compliment. The manner, indeed, must 
 be considered more than the matter. With re- 
 gard to the carriage, it should be easy, unre- 
 strained, and affable, on entering a room, and 
 rather bordering on what the French term non 
 67
 
 MANNERS IN COMPANY. 
 
 ehalance than otherwise. Above all, let it be re- 
 membered by my readers, that without an innate 
 feeling of the utmost ease and composure, as far 
 as company are concerned, no one can appear a 
 thoroughly well-bred man. An appearance of 
 flurry, hurry, or hesitation, in your manner of 
 paying an attention, is rather apt to give pain 
 than pleasure to the person you would serve. 
 The great art of pleasing, upon which all good 
 manners are founded,, is to appear to feel a 
 pleasure in so doing yourself. 
 
 Another action, well worthy of being studied 
 in good manners, is the quitting of a room-ful of 
 company when you are taking leave of the 
 hostess. To quit the room under the above cir- 
 cumstances requires much practice, as the great 
 difficulty consists in retiring gracefully to the 
 door without turning your back upon the com- 
 pany. This can only be done by an easy side 
 step, accompanied by a graceful bow. The art, 
 indeed, of quitting a room-ful of guests, so as to 
 leave a pleasant impression behind, requires much
 
 MANNERS IN COMPANY, 
 
 practice, since nothing is so rude and disg-usting 
 as to turn your back upon any one. But the 
 above habit of taking leave refers chiefly to an 
 ordinary genteel party, and not to the route or 
 fashionable assemblage, where the etiquette al- 
 lows you to drop off unseen and unnoticed. 
 69
 
 THE DINNER-TABLE. 
 
 To shine at the dinner-table requires much 
 conversant practice with polite life. A double 
 duty devolves upon the gentlemen, that of feed- 
 ing with elegance, and of attending to their fair 
 neighbours ; consequently a person's attention 
 should be constantly on the alert. To do this 
 and converse agreeably, conforming at the same 
 time to the practised forms of genteel parties, 
 constitutes the happy art of making one's-self a 
 pleasing guest. In great houses, indeed, the 
 number of servants in waiting greatly tends to 
 relieve visitors from much trouble in mere mat- 
 ters of the table ; but in houses of ordinary gen- 
 tility, where but for instance a single footman is 
 kept to wait at table, this is otherwise. Nothing' 
 is so truly distressing as to see an ill-bred person 
 sitting with well-mannered people at table ; of all 
 situations in which they may form a portion, no 
 70
 
 THE DINNER-TABLE. 
 
 one is more calculated to display their deficiency 
 in that knowledge that all ladies and gentlemen 
 are supposed to have derived from actual expe- 
 riences. Among vulgar people the compliment 
 of taking wine is often made truly ridiculous and 
 antic. To render this indeed a compliment to a 
 lady, it should be done with much appositeness 
 of time and circumstances ; and then let not the 
 gentleman forget, if different dinner wines be on 
 the table, to ask the lady's choice, and fill her 
 glass before his own ; the salute on tasting should 
 consist of a mere inclination of the head : to 
 drink out a health, shows much vulgarity and ig- 
 norance of practised forms. 
 
 Among other very material matters, the man- 
 ner of using the knife and fork are not among 
 the least. x\s early deficiencies in this respect 
 among young people often become so familiarized 
 to them that they commit the greatest vulgar- 
 isms with every appearance of sang froid, a 
 word or two may not, perhaps, be thrown away. 
 The knife, let it be recollected, should never 
 71
 
 THE DIN^NER-TABLE. 
 
 be used for any other purpose than to cut the 
 food with ; to convey any thing to the mouth 
 with it, is, in polite society, to commit a down- 
 right barbarism ; the fork alone should be used 
 for this purpose. Never hold your knife or fork 
 low down on the haft, as though going to dip 
 your fingers in the plate. 
 
 In eating fish, the knife, among elegant peo- 
 ple, is never used at all ; a piece of bread being 
 usually held in the left hand to assist the fish 
 upon the fork. The same in pies and puddings, 
 the fork alone is used. A distinguishing mark 
 of gentility consists in eating very slow, and 
 never by any chance sending your plate up above 
 twice to be helped from any particular dish. 
 
 Placing your knife and fork together upon 
 your plate, is always taken as a sign you have 
 done ; and as such, in good houses, it is always 
 carried away instanter. ' 
 
 In the use of the napkin and finger-glass, 
 much attention to good manners is called for. 
 With very elegant people, who are generally 
 72
 
 THE DINNER-TABLE. 
 
 very cleanly in their feeding, they are but little 
 called into requisition, and then only towards the 
 close of the dinner. 
 
 In taking of poultry, the etiquette of the pre- 
 sent fasliion allows of a person's using one hand 
 in the picking of bones. This, however, if done 
 by a lady, I cannot think much calculated to set 
 her off to advantage. — For a gentleman to do 
 this, requires a neat arrangement of his napkin. 
 
 Among the accomplishments with which every 
 gentleman ought to be acquainted, is the art of 
 carving — carving with ease and grace, inasmuch 
 as it is the peculiar province of the gentleman on 
 the hostess's right hand to relieve her in any 
 thing that is at all tedious, as in the cutting up 
 of game, poultry, &c. Indeed it may be truly 
 affirmed, that no man is qualified to sit at table, 
 unless he be tolerably well acquainted, practical- 
 ly, with carving. 
 
 73
 
 THE BALL-ROOM. 
 
 Dancing, as an elegant accomplishment, ia 
 held in peculiar esteem in the circles of fashion. 
 It is indeed the practice of this graceful art that 
 should greatly contribute towards fixing the car- 
 riage, as it is particularly calculated to give 
 lightness and elasticity to the step. It is ever a 
 source of health and pleasure, and as such can- 
 not be too early acquired, as it soon establishes a 
 grace of movement that habit confirms in riper 
 years. Indeed, that profound metaphysician, 
 Locke, observes, " dancing being that which gives 
 graceful motion to all our lives, and, above all 
 things, manliness, and a becoming confidence to 
 children, I think, cannot be learned too early ; 
 nothing appears to me to give children so much 
 confidence and behaviour, and to raise them to 
 the conversation of those above their years, as 
 dancing." 
 
 74
 
 THE BALL-ROOM. 
 
 As absolutely forming- a portion of good man- 
 ners, every gentleman should dance tolerably ; 
 but it should not be forgotten by young people on 
 their entrance into life, that dancing in fashiona- 
 ble circles and school assemblies, are two distinct 
 things. The activity and free unrestrained step 
 of the former must be taught to give place to the 
 easy grace of movement that distinguishes the 
 latter. 
 
 No lady in fashionable circles will dance with 
 a gentleman, unless previously introduced. To 
 ask a lady, therefore, as a stranger, is at once a 
 piece of rudeness or impudence. — This rule forms 
 a grand distinction to ordinary balls, where this 
 breach of proper forms is permitted. 
 
 The master of the ceremonies, however, who 
 is supposed to know all parties, easily obviates 
 any feeling of unpleasantness arising from this, 
 by introducing any gentleman to a lady if re- 
 quested to do so ; he, it should be recollected, is 
 the arbiter elegantiarum of the room, and di- 
 75
 
 THE BALL-ROOM. 
 
 rec*:s every thing in order and harmony, forming 
 the sets, and giving out the dances, &.c. 
 
 As one of the most important things incident 
 to the ball-room, the art of bowing and curtseying 
 gracefully, should be most studied by the juve- 
 nile of both sexes. In a ball-room, we naturally 
 look for much elegance in this refined and courtly 
 manner of saluting. 
 
 76
 
 ON VISITING. 
 
 Among the most important actions incident to 
 visiting, "calls" are not among the least. It is 
 proper, indeed, that their etiquette should he 
 closely attended to, as they are a matter of such 
 frequent recurrence. 
 
 On calling upon any one, your visit should al- 
 ways be announced by sending up your card, 
 which you are equally bound to leave, if ihe par- 
 ties be out whom you wish to see. When, how- 
 ever, they are " at home," you should ahvays 
 commit your hat, cloak, or umbrella, to the 
 care of the servant; as none but a very vulgar 
 man would think of entermg a gentleman's 
 drawing-room with either. 
 
 After being at a party, it is a mark of etiquette 
 to call the next morning, not to ask to see your 
 entertainers, but to make inquiries (this latter 
 particular, unless you are very intimate, may be 
 omitted) and leave your card. To neglect leav- 
 77
 
 ON VISITING. 
 
 ing your card, is to commit a great breach of 
 decorum. 
 
 On being introduced, in company, to a lady, 
 young men are always expected to bow with 
 great politeness, and express their sense of the 
 honour: a quiet and a lady-like self-possession is 
 equally essential on the part of the female. 
 Among the pleasures, indeed, of good society, an 
 introduction at once dissolves all that foolish 
 formality so much in vogue among very small 
 gentry. 
 
 A gentleman should never so far forget pro- 
 priety, when engaged in conversation with a 
 lady, as to seat himself before her ; it is his duty 
 always to hand a chair, and bow as she seats her- 
 self first. 1 know no action in which a gentle- 
 man may show his grace of demeanour more 
 than in this. And yet the most palpable bad man- 
 ners, without habit indeed makes good manners 
 natural, are committed inadvertently by some 
 men, who, perhaps, are the first to feel hurt, 
 when recalled to a sense of their forgetfulness. 
 78
 
 CONVERSATION. 
 
 Nothing contributes more to the rational en- 
 joyment of society, than the pleasures arising 
 from converse. By this I mean that description 
 of discourse that carries with it the interest and 
 feelings of the company. In conversing, a great 
 want of manners is shov/n in loud speaking, mo- 
 nopolizing the greater part of the conversation to 
 yourself, or in hinting disagreeable topics. With 
 respect to the latter habit, when ladies are pre- 
 sent, all abstruse subjects and political discus- 
 sions of party feeling should be avoided : for as 
 the taste of the ladies should always tbrm the 
 criterion of discourse, the lighter and more varied 
 the subjects of discussion are, the more accessi- 
 ble they will generally be found. While I state 
 this, let it not be supposed to detract from the 
 dignity of fashionable manners, when it is re- 
 membered that the learned Doctor Johnpon ob- 
 79
 
 CONVERSATION. 
 
 serves that, " to trifle agreeably is an art known 
 to few." 
 
 As a very clever writer observes, " There is an 
 art by which we may procure esteem ourselves, 
 at the expense of the vanity of others, and which 
 throws a great charm over the manners ; but this 
 is the secret of the most accomplished." To 
 talk much of others, and but little of ourselves, 
 is the amiable artifice of ingenious self-love, 
 which thus covertly gains the affections of the 
 coldest hearts, that you are sure of pleasing. 
 
 In all conversation, nothing is so generally 
 displeasing as egotism : it is highly censurable as 
 a ridiculous mark of vanity, and want of sense : 
 to make yourself the hero or heroine of your own 
 story, will generally be found to disgust. 
 
 To attempt a fine flight of language upon 
 ordinary topics, reminds me of the famous Egyp- 
 tian queen Cleopatra melting pearls in her 
 draughts: it displays any thing but taste. 
 
 To quote the dead languages, when engaged 
 in conversation with ladies, is not discreet or 
 80
 
 CONVERSATION. 
 
 well-bred, unless, indeed, they be blue-stockings. 
 To interrupt a person when speaking, is the 
 height of ill-manners, and justly excites the in- 
 dignation of the parties whose discourse is broken 
 in upon. Much courtesy should be displayed in 
 differing with the expressed opinion or sentiments 
 of another. Young people, indeed, should never 
 differ with their elders, in company, as it bears 
 with it an appearance of presumption. 
 
 To laugh at one's own anecdote, is not only to 
 be ill-bred, but to appear, at the same time, very 
 silly ; its wit (if it have any) should be given to 
 amuse others. 
 
 Above all things, in speaking, beware of inad- 
 vertently committing grammatical errors; and 
 never attempt a French or Italian quotation, 
 without feeling certain you are thoroughly cor- 
 rect. To speak in a rambling incoherent style, 
 marks vanity of intellect ; to deliver one's opinion 
 in the pithy choice language of elegant phrase- 
 ology, marks at once the man of breeding and 
 
 81
 
 ADDRESS IN CONVERSATION. 
 
 Is it not an extraordinary circumstance, that 
 althoug-h conversation is an art which every man 
 is obliged continually to practise, and on which 
 so much of our social happiness depends, we so 
 rarely meet with any who excel in if? I have 
 frequently, when surrounded at a dinner-table, or 
 on entering a drawing-room with well-informed 
 and agreeable men, and elegant and refined wo- 
 men, from whose conversation I have looked for 
 the highest gratification, seen my anticipated 
 pleasure destroyed, and the harmony of the com- 
 pany broken by some mal-a-propos observation, 
 or ill-timed discussion. The truth is, that the 
 conversation of most men is disagreeable, not 
 from any deficiency in wit or judgment, but from 
 a want of that refinement and good breeding, 
 which may be properly called discretion, or tact. 
 82
 
 ADDRESS IN CONVERSATION. 
 
 Few know where to proceed and where to stop ; 
 few are acquainted with that exact boundary be- 
 yond which an argument ought never to be press- 
 ed. Most aim at being distinguished, rather than 
 entertaining, and speak more to gratify some par- 
 ticular passion or vanity of their own, than to 
 contribute to the amusement or information of 
 others. Almost every man has some favourite 
 study or pursuit to which he is peculiarly devoted, 
 and on which he may be enabled to communicate 
 the most correct and judicious information. But 
 he should remember, that however pleasing this 
 subject may be for him to discourse upon, it may 
 not be equally so to others ; and that which is to 
 him an agreeable topic, may be to some uninter- 
 esting, or to some offensive. ' This consideration 
 ought to put every one especially on his guard, 
 and prevent him from introducing a subject to 
 which he is but too partial — T mean himself If 
 we consider for an instant, we shall be convinced 
 of the impolicy as well as the bad taste of talk- 
 ing of ourselves. Surely it cannot be to our in- 
 83
 
 ADDRESS IN CONVERSATION. 
 
 terest to expose our failings; still less is it advi- 
 sable to boast of our virtues ; as for our domestic 
 affairs, how entertaining it must be for a stranger 
 to learn that a lap-dog has got the phthisic, or 
 that a tradesman or a servant is a knave or a fool. 
 But of all who disturb the harmony of social 
 intercourse by ill-timed or obtrusive remarks, 
 those are the most insufferable, who, under the 
 mask of candour and affected ingenuousness, as- 
 sume the privilege of what they call " speaking 
 their minds," It has been observed, that men 
 who fail of advancing their fortunes by their heads, 
 not unfrequently attempt it by their heels. It 
 may in like manner be said of these, that in de- 
 spair of ever becoming eminent for their elegance, 
 their sense, or any estimable quality, they deter- 
 mine to be at least notorious, by arrogating to 
 themselves the right of being pre-eminently rude. 
 Did not experience militate against such a be- 
 lief, one would really think it impossible that a 
 man could find gratification in rendering his 
 friends uncomfortable, and himself disliked. Un- 
 84
 
 ADDRESS IN CONVERSATION. 
 
 fortunately, we frequently hear a person of this 
 class say a rude thing for the very pleasure of 
 saying- it ; although a contrary behaviour, quite 
 as innocent, to say the least of it, might have 
 preserved his friend, or secured his fortune. 
 
 It is impossible too strongly to warn all, but 
 especially those just entering into life, against 
 encouraging the slightest propensity to a beha- 
 viour of this sort. This caution is the more ne- 
 cessary, because to inexperienced minds this mode 
 of conduct carries with it a pleasurable appear- 
 ance of openness and sincerity, and is, perhaps, 
 calculated to impose upon the understanding of 
 the weak ; to all others it is contemptible ; a 
 well-bred man despises it for its vulgarity, a sen- 
 sible man for its facility. We do not go into so- 
 ciety so much to receive instruction or advice, as 
 to promote the rational happiness of ourselves and 
 others ; and how either the one or the other can 
 be advanced by an exposure of the faults and fol- 
 lies of our friends, is a problem which I have 
 neither the inclination nor the ability to solve. 
 85
 
 ADDRESS IN CONVERSATION 
 
 But while we endeavour to avoid the impertinence 
 of talking too much, we must be careful not to 
 fall into the opposite extreme. There are some, 
 who, 
 
 " Mistaking the reverse of wrong for right, 
 
 offend as much by their silence as others by their 
 garrulity. From whatever motive this proceeds, 
 whether from pride, bashfulness, or an affectation 
 of singularity, the consequences are the same. 
 None but ourselves can judge of our motives, but 
 our actions are open to all ; and a reserve which 
 arises from timidity and mauvaise honte, renders 
 us liable to the imputation of ignorance or hauteur. 
 One degree and no further removed from those 
 who " speak their minds," is a class of persons 
 who, if they do not positively interrupt, at least 
 negatively check, the harmony and pleasure of 
 social intercourse ; and who, because they abstain 
 from uttering a rude speech, think themselves 
 excused from ever making a civil one. One 
 would imagine that they were giving evidence in 
 86
 
 ADDRESS IN CONVERSATION. 
 
 a court of justice, or at least, were bound by some 
 scruple of conscience ; so cautiously do they ab- 
 stain from speaking a syllable that is not borne 
 out by truth. Place one of these unimaginative 
 matter-of-fact men by the side of a young and 
 timid beauty, just emerging from the nursery into 
 the drawing-room, and trusting to the delicate 
 attentions of a polished courtesy for confidence 
 and encouragement, she is embarrassed — a kind 
 word would dissipate her embarrassment : she is 
 awkward from the very apprehension of being so 
 — a soothing whisper would convert her awkward- 
 ness into ease; yet the word, the whisper are 
 withheld, because, forsooth, it would be paying 
 her a compliment. I have no patience with these 
 people, they are more intolerable than a company 
 of Dutch smokers; though they contribute no- 
 thing to the pleasure of others, they expect others 
 to administer to theirs ; for there is not one of 
 them who would not be offended with any defi- 
 ciency of attention to himself, however unwilling 
 he may be to show it in return. There are seve- 
 87
 
 ADDRESS IN CONVERSATION. 
 
 ral minor divisions of this class, as well as many 
 others, which it would be tedious here to enume- 
 rate ; experience will point them out — prudence 
 will avoid them. 
 
 Of all the various qualities and accomplish- 
 ments which unite in forming- a well-bred man, 
 there is none so likely to promote his reputation, 
 or advance his fortune, as the art of conversing 
 well. It is justly observed by Dr. Blair, " that 
 of those endowments that are absolutely neces- 
 sary to the happiness of man, Nature has in 
 general been equally bounteous to all her chil- 
 dren ; while those which, if not superfluous, may 
 at least be deemed adventitious, have been distri- 
 buted by her with a more sparing hand." This 
 remark cannot be more happily applied than with 
 reference to the subject before us. Let each of 
 us, in our mind's eye, review the circle of our 
 acquaintance ; let us endeavour to recollect how 
 few of them tliere are to whom we have listened 
 with unmixed gratification, who have never an- 
 noyed us by talking too much, or olTended us by 
 88
 
 ADDRESS IN CONVERSATION. 
 
 talking too little, by their pedantic dictation on 
 one topic, or their studied silence on all ; almost 
 a momentary glance will convince us, that the 
 number is so small, as to excite at once astonish- 
 ment and regret.
 
 SMALL TALK. 
 
 It is no easy matter to talk well. A man may 
 read many books, and have a tenacious memory, 
 and a sound judgment, and no small portion of 
 critical acumen. He may express his thoughts 
 in elegant language ; he may season his discourse 
 with wit, and be a living lexicon, and a walking 
 encyclopedia; and yet, after all, be but a dull 
 every-day companion. All the world don't read 
 books; and all who do read, do not care about 
 them; but every body loves to talk. There is 
 something very pleasant in hearing the sound of 
 one's own voice ; and when we are wearied with 
 toil, or tired with thought, we love to chat, to set 
 the tongue in motion, to relieve the sense of 
 weariness. 
 
 There seems to be a great deal of wisdom in 
 speaking contemptuously of common-place talk ; 
 90
 
 SMALL TALK. 
 
 but it is all seeming. Real wisdom makes a man 
 a most agreeable companion ; but mock wisdom, 
 the affectation of profundity, the prudery of learn- 
 ing, makes him quite the reverse. If a man of 
 great learning be an agreeable man, it is not his 
 learning that makes him so, but his dexterity in 
 managing it. If he be above small talk, he may, 
 for nine-tenths of the world, keep his learning to 
 himself. It is an admirable conceit for profound 
 critics in the ancient languages of Greece and 
 Rome, to spend years upon settling the reading 
 of an old song, and write volumes upon a cadence, 
 and bury themselves in dust till their souls are as 
 dry as a stuffed alligator, and then give themselves 
 airs upon the insipidity and nothingness of small 
 talk. 
 
 The mistake is common, though not for that 
 reason less a mistake, to imagine that it is the 
 easiest matter in the world to talk about nothing, 
 or every -day occurrences : it requires an active 
 mind, an observant mind, and no small share of 
 that invaluable, unpurchasable, and unlearnable 
 91
 
 SMALL TALK. 
 
 quality, good humour, to say something on every 
 thing to any body. It has been sometimes noticed, 
 as a remarkable and amiable trait in the charac- 
 ters of some men, of very superior minds, that 
 they have been able and willing to make them- 
 selves agreeable to children ; and not unfrequently 
 has it been observed of great monarchs, that they 
 had something to say to every body. 
 
 If a man must never open his lips, but for the 
 enunciation of an aphorism, or never say any 
 thing which has not been, or may not be, in print ; 
 if he must be everlastingly talking volumes, or 
 discussing knotty points of casuistry, politics, or 
 metaphysics, he will find the gift of speech rather 
 burthensome, and but few of his audience willing 
 to hear him out 
 
 But I am not wishing to vindicate nonsense, or 
 extol trifling. I am only putting in a claim for 
 the due honours of that species of talk, which 
 must, more or less, be at times the occupation of 
 us all. We have heard of conversaziones, where 
 common-place is studiously avoided, where poli- 
 92
 
 SMALL TALK. 
 
 tics and weather are never discussed, but where 
 criticism, or metaphysics, or antiquities, and mat- 
 ters of taste, form the sole subjects of discourse. 
 This sounds mightily edifying, to be sure ; but the 
 most egregious common-place is not unfrequently 
 heard in these parties. Let but the topics of the 
 day be known, the last novel, or picture, or public 
 singer, and all the conversation may be antici- 
 pated. In order to shine, the mind puts itself into 
 the most strained and unnatural attitudes, and 
 displays its possessions, instead of exerting its 
 powers ; and many a poor soul dares hardly open 
 its lips, for want of having read certain books, or 
 seen certain pictures, or statues, or opera dancers. 
 Small talk obviates these evils ; the mind is at 
 ease ; there is no intention of saying any thing 
 profound ; there is no fear of disappointing ex- 
 pectation ; and in this delightful recreation we 
 often 
 
 " Snatch a grace beyond the reacii of art." 
 
 It is very pleasant to pass time agreeably, to 
 keep the mind active without wearying it, to 
 93
 
 SMALL TALK. 
 
 have all our hours engaged in some form or other ; 
 we cannot do this without some share of small 
 talk. 
 
 Perhaps, if this art were a little more studied, 
 we might find our account in it. The French are 
 said. to shine in this particular; they can thus 
 make themselves agreeable at very little expense 
 of time or thought; and if our own countrymen, 
 without sacrificing their solidity of character, and 
 compromising their sincerity, could takca lesson 
 from some European nations, they would render 
 American society, in grace as well as substance, 
 the best society in the world. 
 94
 
 ADVANTAGES OF FEMALE CONVER- 
 SATION. 
 
 Talk to women, talk to women as much as 
 you can. This is the best school. This is the 
 way to gain fluency, because you need not care 
 what you say, and had better not be sensible. 
 They, too, will rally you on many points, and, as 
 they are women, you will not be offended. No- 
 thing" is of so much importance, and of so much 
 use, to a young man entering life, as to be well 
 criticised by women. It is impossible to get rid 
 of those thousand bad habits which we pick up 
 in boyhood without this supervision. Unfortu- 
 nately you may have no sisters. But never be 
 offended if a woman rally you. Encourage her. 
 Otherwise you will never be free from your awk- 
 wardness, or any little oddities, and certainly 
 never learn to dress. 
 
 95
 
 MUSIC AND SINGING. 
 
 These are accomplishments that every one 
 should be possessed of, if, indeed, they have a 
 natural taste for their acquisition ; as they form, 
 at times, so agreeable a relief from conversation ; 
 at the same time, they may be considered as af- 
 fording an inexhaustible fund of amusement to 
 their possessors. Music refines the taste and 
 exalts the imagination ; and, through the exuber- 
 ant sway it possesses over its admirers, greatly 
 tends to alleviate the many sorrovi^s of life. In- 
 deed, I cannot but greatly differ with Chesterfield 
 in his opinions respecting the acquirement of a 
 knowledge of music by gentlemen. This polite 
 author deems it derogatory to a gentleman, and 
 gives it as an opinion that when fiddlers, &c. are 
 wanted, they should be paid for. But, surely, 
 tliat which in itself is a general source of plea- 
 sure and satisfaction, of whatsoever kind it is, 
 9G
 
 MUSIC AND SINGING. 
 
 should be learned by all. Accomplishments, of 
 whatsoever kind they be, are prized nowhere 
 more than they are in fashionable life ; and the 
 first people in the country are happy in display- 
 ing their acquirements in this respect. 
 
 A most vulgar habit, in reference to music and 
 singing, is very common, I am sorry to say, in 
 good society ; I particularly allude to the affecta- 
 tion some people are guilty of, in not complying 
 with a request, when asked to sing or play ; they 
 firequently make a variety of excuses, as ridicu- 
 lous as they are insincere ; merely for the pur- 
 pose of raising expectation, and becoming an ob- 
 ject of notice and entreaty. Nothing is so truly 
 contemptible and ill-bred as such trickery. Even 
 if a person has, in reality, a cold, when asked to 
 favour a company with their voice, the best way 
 for them at once to convince their friends of the 
 fact (if pressed) is to sing at once. Indeed, it 
 will always be remarked that a truly well-bred 
 person will always appear to take a pleasure in 
 oblio-ing 
 
 G 97
 
 MUSIC AND SINGING. 
 
 Among girls, however, I am aware there is 
 oftentimes a nervous timidity, that prevents the 
 display of their powers in playing and singing 
 before an assembly; although, alone, they can 
 execute one and the other with considerable 
 effect, I have myself known many instances of 
 this kind, and can recommend no better way to 
 conquer this feeling than constant practice, and 
 of endeavouring, when singing or playing at a 
 friend's house, to fancy yourself alone.
 
 EPISTOLARY CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 In letter-writing-, as in every other matter con- 
 nected with civilized life, there is a form and a 
 style in society, that every one, having preten- 
 sions to g-entility, is bound and expected to fol- 
 low. Epistolary correspondence is particularly 
 deserving of notice, from the gratification it 
 gives us, by affording us the only means of com- 
 municating with absent friends. Of composition, 
 it is not my purpose to speak, further than to re- 
 commend the study of a clear, concise, and ele- 
 gant style of expression ; I shall therefore confine 
 myself to a few distinct observations connected 
 ^^-..with my subject. 
 
 ' • I It^ writing, learn to date your letters at the 
 ^; / bottom of your paper, and not at the commence- 
 I I ment, as this practice, in genteel society, is quite 
 x I obsolete.' Always envelope your letter in a blank 
 ^^-^^cover ; except, indeed, when writing through the 
 post to the country, for the compliment would
 
 EPISTOLARY CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 then be at the expense of double postage, unless, 
 indeed, your letter be franked. 
 
 To use a wafer, is vulgar beyond expression ; 
 wax should always form your seal, impressed 
 either with your arms or some pretty motto. In 
 writing to a gentleman of any consequence, al- 
 ways place &c. &c. &c. after his name; it is 
 complimentary, and is understood to refer to any 
 appointments or rank he may hold. (All gentle-* '^ % 
 men, it is almost needless, perhaps, to add, should 
 be addressed as esquires\ although not, perhaps, 
 officially correct, it is always given by courtesy. 
 
 Not to answer the receipt of a letter imme- 
 diately, is neglectful ; not to answer it at all, in- 
 sulting. The common courtesies of life, compel 
 an individual, howsoever high be his rank, to 
 reply, immediately, to a lady's or gentleman's 
 letter. Not to do so, is to forget what is due to 
 himself. Invitations to dinner are generally 
 written on proper cards, and are always expected 
 to be immediately answered. To neglect this, is 
 to display much ignorance or contempt. 
 100
 
 AWKWARDNESS. 
 
 The following' satire on awkwardness is taken 
 from Blackwood's Magazine, and may very pro- 
 bably be the production of Professor Wilson 
 himself. 
 
 Man is naturally the most awkward animal 
 that inhales the breath of life. There is nothing", 
 however simple, which lie can perform with the 
 smallest approach to gracefulness or ease. If he 
 walks, — he hobbles, or jumps, or limps, or trots, 
 or sidles, or creeps — but creeping, sidling, limp- 
 ing, hobbling, and jumping, are by no means 
 walking. If he sits, — he fidgets, twists his legs 
 under his chair, throws his arm over the back of 
 it, and puts himself in a perspiration, by trying 
 to be at ease. It is the same in the more com- 
 plicated operations of life. Behold that indi- 
 vidual on a horse ! See with what persevermgf 
 alacrity he hobbles up and down from the croupe 
 101
 
 AWKWARDNESS. 
 
 to the pommel, while his horse goes quietly at an 
 amble of from four to five miles in the hour. See 
 how his knees, flying like a weaver's shuttle, 
 from one extremity of the saddle to another, de- 
 stroy, in a pleasure-ride from Edinburgh to Ros- 
 lin, the good, gray kerseymeres, which were glit- 
 tering a day or two ago in Scaife and Willises 
 shop. The horse begins to gallop — Bless our 
 soul ! the gentleman will decidedly roll off. The 
 reins were never intended to be pulled like a 
 peal of Bob Majors ; your head, my friend, ought 
 to be on your own shoulders, and not poking out 
 between your charger's ears; and your horse 
 ought to use its exertions to move on, and not 
 you. It is a very cold day, you have cantered 
 your two miles, and now you are wiping your 
 brows, as if you had run the distance in half the 
 time on foot. 
 
 People think it a mighty easy thing to roll 
 
 along in a carriage. Step into this noddy. That 
 
 creature in the corner was evidently in a state 
 
 of such nervous excitement that his body is as 
 
 102
 
 AWKWARDNESS. 
 
 immoveable as if he had breakfasted on th« 
 kitchen poker ; every jolt of the vehicle must 
 give him a shake like a battering-ram ; do you 
 call this coming in to give yourself a rest 1 Poor 
 man, your ribs will ache for this for a month to 
 come ! But the other gentleman opposite : see 
 how flexible he has rendered his body. Every 
 time my venerable friend on the coach-box ex- 
 tends his twig with a few yards of twine at the 
 end of it, which he denominates *' a whupp," the 
 suddenness of the accelerated motion makes his 
 great, round head flop from the centre of his 
 short, thick neck, and come with such violence 
 on the unstuffed back, that his hat is sent down 
 upon the bridge of his nose with a vehemence 
 which might well nigh carry it away. Do you 
 say that man is capable of taking a pleasure- 
 ride') Before he has been bumped three miles, 
 every pull of wind will be jerked out of his 
 body, and by the time he has arrived at Roslin, 
 he will be a dead man. If that man prospers in 
 103
 
 AWKWARDNESS. 
 
 the world, he commits suicide the moment he 
 sets up his carriage. 
 
 We g'o to a ball. Mercy upon us! is this 
 what you call dancing? A man of thirty years 
 of age, with legs as thick as a gate-post, stands 
 up in the middle of the room, and gapes, and 
 fumbles with his gloves, looking all the time as 
 if he were burying his grandmother. At a 
 given signal, the unwieldy animal puts himself 
 in motion ; he throws out his arms, crouches up 
 his shoulders, and, without moving a muscle of 
 his face, kicks out his legs, to the manifest risk 
 of the bystanders, and goes back to the place 
 puffing and blowing like an otter, after a half- 
 hour's burst. Is this dancing? Shades of the 
 filial and paternal Vestris ! can this be a speci- 
 men of the art which gives elasticity to the most 
 inert conformation, which sets the blood glowing 
 with a warm and genial flow, and makes beauty 
 float before our ravished senses, stealing our ad- 
 miration by the gracefulness of each new motion, 
 104
 
 AWKWARDNESS. 
 
 till at last our souls thrill to each warning move- 
 ment, and dissolve into ecstasy and lovel 
 
 People seem even to labour to be awkward. 
 One would think a gentleman might shake hands 
 with a familiar friend without any symptoms of 
 cubbishness. Not at all. The hand is jerked 
 out by the one with the velocity of a rocket, and 
 comes so unexpectedly to the length of its tether, 
 that it nearly dislocates the shoulder bone. There 
 it stands swaying and clutching at the wind, at 
 the full extent of the arm, while the other half 
 is poked out, and half drawn in, as if rheuma- 
 tism detained the upper moiety and only below 
 the elbow were at liberty to move. After you 
 have shaken the hand, (but for what reason you 
 squeeze it, as if it were a sponge, I can by no 
 means imagine,) can you not withdraw it to your 
 side, and keep it in the station where nature and 
 comfort alike tell you it ought to be 1 Do you 
 think your breeches' pocket the mosr proper 
 place to push your daddle into ] Do you put it 
 there to guard the solitary half-crown from the 
 105
 
 AWKWARDNESS. 
 
 rapacity of your friend ; or do you put it across 
 your breast in case of an unexpected winder 
 from your apparently peaceable acquaintance on 
 the opposite side 1 
 
 Is it not quite absurd that a man can't even 
 take a glass of wine without an appearance of 
 infinite difficulty and pain? Eating an egg at 
 breakfast, we allow, is a difficult operation, but 
 surely a glass of wine after dinner should be as 
 easy as it is undoubtedly agreeable. The egg 
 lies under many disadvantages. If you leave the 
 egg-cup on the table, you have to steady it with 
 the one hand, and carry the floating nutriment a 
 distance of about two feet with the other, and 
 always in a confoundedly small spoon, and some- 
 times with rather unsteady fingers. To avoid 
 this, you take the egg-cup in your hand, and 
 every spoonful have to lay it down again, in order 
 to help yourself to bread ; so, upon the whole, we 
 disapprove of eggs, unless, indeed, you take 
 them in our old mode at Oxford ; that is, two eggs 
 106
 
 AWKWARDNESS. 
 
 mashed up with every cup of tea, and purified 
 with a glass of hot rum. 
 
 But the glass of wine — can any thing be more 
 easy? One would think not — but if you take 
 notice next time you empty a gallon with a 
 friend, you will see that, sixteen to one, he makes 
 the most convulsive efforts to do with ease what 
 a person would naturally suppose was the easiest 
 thing in the world. Do you see, in the first 
 place, how hard he grasps the decanter, leaving 
 the misty mark of five hot fingers on the glitter- 
 ing crystal, which ought to be pure as Cornelia's 
 fame 1 Then remark at what an acute angle he 
 holds his right elbow as if he were meditating an 
 assault on his neighbour's ribs ; then see how he 
 claps the bottle down again as if his object were 
 to shake the pure ichor, and make it muddy as 
 his own brains. Mark how the animal seizes his 
 glass, — by heavens he will break it into a thou- 
 sand fragments ! See how he bows his lubberly 
 head to meet half-way the glorious cargo ; how 
 he slobbers the beverage over his unmeaning 
 107
 
 AWKWARDNESS. 
 
 gullet, and chucks down the glass so as almost to 
 break its stem after he has emptied it of its con- 
 tents as if they had been jalap or castor-oil ! Call 
 you that taking a glass of wine ] Sir, it is put- 
 ting wine into your gullet as you would put 
 small-beer into a barrel, — but it is not — oh, no ! 
 it is not taking, so as to enjoy, a glass of red, 
 rich port, or glowing, warm, tinted, beautiful 
 caveza ! 
 
 A newly-married couple are invited to a wed- 
 ding dinner. Though the lady, perhaps, has run 
 off with a person below her in rank and station, 
 see when they enter the room, how differently 
 they behave. — How gracMilly she waves her 
 liead in the fine recover Trom the withdrawing 
 curtesy, and beautifully extends her hand to the 
 bald-pated individual grinning to her on the rug! 
 While the poor spoon, her husband, looks on, with 
 the white of his eyes turned up as if he were 
 sea-sick, and his hands dangle dangle on his 
 thighs as if he were trying to lift his own legs. 
 See how he ducks to the lady of the house, and 
 108
 
 AWKWARDNESS. 
 
 simpers across the fire-place to his wife, who by 
 this time is giving a most spirited account of the 
 state of the roads, and the civility of the postil- 
 lions near the Borders. 
 
 Is a man little 3 Let him always, if possible, 
 stoop. We are sometimes tempted to lay sprawling 
 in the mud fellows of from five feet to five feet 
 eight, who carry the back of their heads on the 
 extreme summit of their back-bone, and gape up 
 to heaven as if they scorned the very ground. 
 Let no little man wear iron heels. When we 
 visit a friend of ours in Queen-street we are dis- 
 turbed from our labours or conversation by a 
 sound which resembles the well-timed marching 
 of a file of infantry or a troop of dismounted dra- 
 goons. We hobble as fast as possible to the 
 window, and are sure to see something chappie 
 of about five feet high stumping on the pave- 
 ment with his most properly named cuddy-heels ; 
 and we stake our credit, we never yet heard a 
 similar clatter from any of his majesty's subjects 
 of a rational and gentlemanly height — We mean 
 109
 
 AWKWARDNESS. 
 
 from five feet eleven (our own height) up to six 
 feet three. 
 
 Is a man talll Let him never wear a surtout. 
 It is the most unnatural, and therefore the most 
 awkward dress that ever was invented. On a 
 tall man, if he be thin, it appears like a cossack- 
 trouser on a stick leg ; if it be buttoned, it makes 
 his leanness and lankness still more appalling 
 and absurd ; if it be open, it appears to be no part 
 of his costume, and leads us to suppose that some 
 elongated habit-maker is giving us a specimen 
 of that rare bird, the flying tailor. 
 
 We go on a visit to the country for a few days, 
 and the neighbourhood is famous for its beautiful 
 prospects. Though, for our own individual share, 
 we would rather go to the catacombs alone, than 
 to a splendid view in a troop, we bate to balk 
 young people ! and as even now a walking-stick 
 chair is generally carried along for our behoof, 
 we seldom or never remain at home when all the 
 rest of the party trudges off to some " bushy 
 bourne or mossy dell." On these occasions how 
 110
 
 AWKWARDNESS. 
 
 infinitely superior the female is to the male part 
 of the species ! The ladies, in a quarter of an 
 hour after the proposal of the ploy, appear all in 
 readiness to start, each with her walking-shoes 
 and parasol, with a smart reticule dangling from 
 her wrist. The gentlemen, on the other hand, set 
 off with their great, heavy Wellingtons, which, 
 after walking half a mile, pinch them at the toe, 
 and make the pleasure excursion confine them to 
 the house for weeks. Then some fool, the first 
 gate or stile we come to, is sure to show off his 
 vaulting, and upsets himself in the ditch on the 
 opposite side, instead of going quietly over and 
 helping the damsels across. And then, if he does 
 attempt the polite, how awkwardly the monster 
 makes the attempt! We come to a narrow 
 ditch with a plank across it. — He goes only half 
 way, and standing in the middle of the plank, 
 stretches out his hand and pulls the unsuspecting 
 maiden so forcibly, that before he has time to get 
 out of the way, the impetus his own tug has pro- 
 duced, precipitates them both among the hemlock 
 111
 
 AWKWARDNESS. 
 
 and nettles, which, you may lay it down as a 
 general rule, are to be found at the thoroughfares 
 in every field. 
 
 We hold that every man behaves with awk- 
 wardness when he is in love, and the want of the 
 one is a presumption of the absence of the other. 
 When people are fairly engaged, there is perhaps 
 less of this directly to the object, but there is 
 still as much of it in her presence ; but it is won- 
 derful how soon the most nervous become easy 
 when marriage has concluded all their hopes. 
 Delicate girl ! just budding into womanly loveli- 
 ness, whose heart, for the last ten minutes, has 
 been trembling behind the snowy wall of thy fair 
 and beautiful bosom, hast thou never remarked 
 and laughed at a tall and much-be-whiskered 
 young man for the mauvaise honte with which 
 he hands to thee thy cup of half-watered sou- 
 chong 1 Laugh not at him again, for he will as- 
 suredly be thy husband. 
 
 Love, v^7hen successful, is well enough, and 
 perhaps it has treasures of its own to compensate 
 112
 
 AWKWARDNESS, 
 
 for its inconveniences; but a more miserable 
 situation than that of an unhappy individual be- 
 fore the altar, it is not in the heart of man to~ 
 conceive. First of all, you are marched with a 
 solitary male companion up the long aisle, which 
 on this occasion appears absolutely interminable ; 
 then you meet your future partner dressed out in 
 satin and white ribbons, whom you are sure to 
 meet in gingham gowns or calico prints, every 
 morning of your life ever after. There she is, 
 supported by her old father, decked out in his 
 old-fashioned brown coat, with a wig of the same 
 colour, beautifully relieving the burning redness 
 of his huge projecting ears ; and the mother, 
 puffed up like an overgrown bolster, encouraging 
 the trembling girl, and joining her maiden aunts 
 of full fifty years, in telling her to take courage, 
 for it is what they must all come to, Bride's- 
 maids and mutual friends make up the company ; 
 and there, standing out before this assemblage, 
 you assent to everything the curate, or, if you 
 are rich enough, the rector, or even the dean, 
 H 113
 
 AWKWARDNESS. 
 
 may say, showing your knock-knees in the naked 
 deformity of the white kerseymeres, to an ad- 
 miring bevy of the servants of both families, 
 laughing and tittering from the squire's pew in 
 the gallery. Then the parting ! — The mother's 
 injunctions to the juvenile bride to guard herself 
 from the cold, and to write within the week. 
 The maiden aunts' inquiries, of, " My dear, have 
 you forgot nothing ]" — the shaking of hands, the 
 wiping and winking of eyes! By Hercules! — \ 
 there is but one situation more unpleasant in \ 
 this world, and that is, bidding adieu to your \ 
 friends, the ordinary and jailor, preparatory to I 
 swinging from the end of a halter out of it. 
 The lady all this time seems not half so awk- 
 ward. She has her gown to keep from creasing, 
 her vinaigrette to play with ; besides, that all her. 
 nervousness is interesting and feminine, and is 
 laid to the score of delicacy and reserve. 
 114
 
 AMERICAN PECULIARITIES. 
 
 [We insert the following comparison of English- 
 men and Americans, drawn by the impartial hand 
 of a Scotchman, in order to enable our readers to 
 remark some of the peculiarities of manner arising 
 from peculiarities of character which distinguish 
 us from foreign nations ; by keeping these in view, 
 we may avoid whatever is inconsistent with the 
 character and manners of a citizen of the world, 
 or gentleman, who would be recognized as such 
 in any society.] 
 
 We are an old people. The Americans are a 
 new people. We value ourselves on our ancestry 
 — on what we have done ; they, on their posterity, 
 and on what they mean to do. They look to the 
 future ; we to the past. They are proud of Old 
 England as the home of their forefathers ; we, of 
 America, as the abiding-place of western English- 
 men. 
 
 They are but of yesterday as a people. They 
 115
 
 AMERICAN PECULIARITIES. 
 
 are descended from those whose burial-places are 
 yet to be seen: we, from those whose burial- 
 places have been successively invaded by the Ro- 
 man, Saxon, Dane, and Norman, until they are 
 no longer to be distinguished from the everlasting- 
 hills. 
 - . (As a whole people, the Americans talk a better 
 ..-^ English than we. do jj but then, there are many 
 individuals among us \yho speak better English 
 than any American, unless we except, here and 
 there, a well-educated New Englander ; and a 
 few eminent public speakers, like the late Mr. 
 Pinckney, who was minister to this court ; and 
 Mr. Wirt, the present attorney-general of the 
 United States, who will probably succeed Mr. 
 Rush in the same capacity ;' and, then, there are 
 a multitude among us who speak better English 
 than is common among the well-educated men 
 of America, although they do not speak the best 
 English, such as the few among us do. 
 
 I have heard a great deal said about the habits 
 of cleanliness in England and America ; and I 
 116
 
 AMERICAN PECULIARITIES. 
 
 have sometimes laughed very heartily at the re- 
 ciprocal prejudices of the English and American 
 women. 
 
 I have heard an English woman complain of a 
 beastly American, for spitting into the fire ; and 
 I have heard an American woman express the 
 greatest abhorrence of an Englishman, for spitting 
 in his pocket handkerchief; or, for not spitting at 
 all, when he happened to mention that well-b?=^d 
 men swallowed their saliva. A spitting-box is a 
 part of the regular furniture of every room in 
 America, although smoking is now entirely out 
 of fashion there.) : j%")\ '\ 
 
 An American will not scruple to pick his teeth 
 or clean his nails, if he should think it necessary 
 — anywhere, at any time — before a lady.. An 
 Englishman would sooner let them go dirty. 
 
 An American never brushes his hat — very 
 rarely his coat : and his hair, not once a-week. 
 An Englishman will brush the first with his coat 
 sleeve, or a silk handkerchief, whenever he puts 
 it on or off: and the latter, every time that he 
 117
 
 AMERICAN PECULIARITIES, 
 
 goes out. The American is laughed at for his 
 personal slovenliness, in England, and the English 
 man for his absurd anxiety, in America. Such is 
 national prejudice. 
 
 The Englishman is more of a Roman; the 
 American more of a Greek, in the physiognomy 
 of his face and mind, in temper and in constitu- 
 tion. The American is the vainer ; the English- 
 man the prouder man of the two. The American 
 is volatile, adventurous, talkative, and chivalrous. 
 The Englishman is thoughtful, determined, very 
 brave, and a little sullen. The Englishman has 
 more courage ; the American more spirit. The 
 former would be better in defence ; the latter in 
 attack. A beaten Englishman is formidable still; 
 a beaten American is good for nothing, for a time.' ■ ; ] 
 
 The countenance of the Englishman is florid ; 
 not sharply, but strongly marked, and full of am- 
 plitude, gravity, and breadth ; that of an Ameri- 
 can has less breadth, less gravity, less amplitude, 
 but more vivacity, and a more lively character. 
 118
 
 AMERICAN PECULIARITIES. 
 
 The expression of an Englishman's face is great- 
 er ; that of the American, more intense. 
 
 In the self-satisfied, honest, hearty, and rather 
 pompous expression of an English face, you will 
 find, when it is not caricatured, a true indication 
 of his character. Other people call him boastful, 
 but he is not. He only shows, in every look and 
 attitude, that he is an Englishman, one of that 
 extraordinary people, who help to make up an 
 empire that never had, has not, and never will 
 have, a parallel on earth. But then he never tells 
 other men so, except in the way of a speech, or 
 a patriotic newspaper essay. 
 
 And so, in the keen, spirited, sharp, intelligent, 
 variable countenance of an American, you will 
 find a correspondent indication of what he is. He 
 is exceedingly vain, rash, and sensitive '/he has 
 not a higher opinion of his country than the 
 Englishman has of his; but then, he is less dis- 
 creet, more talkative, and more presumptuous; 
 less assured of the superiority which he claims 
 for his country; more watchful and jealous, and, 
 119
 
 AMERICAN PECULIARITIES. 
 
 of course, more waspish and quarrelsome, like 
 diminutive men, who, if they pretend to be mag- 
 nanimous, only make themselves ridiculous, and 
 being- aware of this, become the most techy and 
 peevish creatures in the world. 
 
 ,The Englishman shows his high opinion of his 
 country by silence ; the American his, by talking ; 
 one by his conduct, the other by words ; one by 
 arrogance, the other by superciliousness. 
 
 The Englishman is, generally, a better,, braver, 
 and a nobler-minded fellow, than you might be led 
 to believe from his appearance. The face of an 
 American, on the contrary, induces you to believe 
 him, generally, a better man than you will find 
 him. 
 
 But then, they are so much alike, or rather 
 there are individuals of both countries so like each 
 other, that I know many Americans who would 
 pass everywhere for Englishmen, and many En- 
 glishmen wlio would pass anywhere for Ameri- 
 cans. In heart and head they are much more 
 alike, than in appearance or manners. 
 1^0
 
 AMERICAN PECULIARITIES, 
 
 An Englishman, when abroad, is reserved, cau- 
 tious, often quite insupportable, and when frank, 
 hardly ever talkative ; not very hasty, but a little 
 quarrelsome nevertheless ; turbulent, and rather 
 overbearing, particularly upon the continent. At 
 home, he is hospitable, frank, generous, overflow- 
 ing- with honesty and cordiality, and given to a 
 sort of substantial parade — a kind of old-fashioned 
 family ostentation. 
 
 But the American is quite the reverse. Abroad 
 he is talkative, noisy, imperious; often excessively 
 
 impertinenty;capric'ioug,°|t^oub^^s*^'^^»'^^'^^^^ ^^ ^^^ 
 familiarity, or in his untimely reserve ; not quar- 
 relsome, but so hasty, nevertheless, that he is 
 eternally in hot water. ;' At home, he is more re- 
 served ; and, with all his hospitality, much given 
 to ostentation of a lighter sort ; substitute — finery 
 and show. 
 
 An American is easily excited, and, of course, 
 easily quieted. An Englishman is neither easily 
 quieted, nor easily excited. It is harder to move 
 121
 
 AMERICAN PECULIARTTIlss. 
 
 the latter ; but once in motion, it is harder to stop 
 him. 
 
 One has more strength and substance; the 
 other more activity and spirit. One has more 
 mind, more wisdom, more judgment, and more 
 perseverance ; the other more g-enius, more quick- 
 ness of perception, more adventurousness. 
 
 The Englishman's temper is more hardy and 
 resolute; that of the American more intrepid and 
 fiery. The former has more patience and forti- 
 tude ; the latter more ardour. The Englishman 
 is never discouraged, though without resources : 
 the American is never without resources, but is 
 often disheartened. Just so is it with the female 
 character. 
 
 An American woman is more childish, more 
 q,ttractive, and more perishable ; the English wo- 
 man is of a healthier mind, more dignified, and 
 more durable. The former is a flower, the latter 
 a plant. One sheds perfume ; the other susten- 
 ance. I The English woman is bettor suited for a 
 friend, a counsellor, and a companion — for the 
 122
 
 AMERICAN PCCrLIARITIES. 
 
 mother of many children, and for the partnership 
 of a long life. But the American woman, parti- 
 cularly of the south, is better fitted for love than 
 counsel/— child-bearing soon destroys her. A 
 few summers, and she appears to have been born 
 a whole generation before her husband. An En- 
 glish woman has more wisdom ; an American 
 more wit. One has more good sense ; the other 
 more enthusiasm. Either would go to the scaf- 
 fold with a beloved one ; but the female Ameri- 
 can would go there in a delirium ; the English 
 woman deliberately, like a martyr. 
 123
 
 AFFECTATION. 
 
 Affectation is the wisdom of fools, and the 
 folly of many a comparatively wise man. " It 
 is," says Johnson, " an artificial show ; an elabo- 
 rate appearance ; a false pretence." Surely it 
 must be a most infirm judgment which prefers 
 counterfeit to real; and which employs art, 
 labour, and pretence, to produce that which is 
 spurious and vile, whilst the genuine commodity 
 requires no such effort. 
 
 Simplicity of conduct and of manners, the 
 unquestionable indications of sound sense and of 
 a correct taste, exonerate their happy possessors 
 from the whole of that toilsome load, which the 
 enslaved and feeble minds of artificial characters 
 constantly sustain. O what a weariness it must 
 be, to be always acting a part, to torture and 
 tutor every thought, word, and action in common 
 life and daily intercourse, so as to produce a fac- 
 124
 
 AFFECTATION. 
 
 titious result; to adopt conduct, select words, 
 and profess sentiments on the most trivial as well 
 as the most important occasions, which shall be 
 sure to differ, more or less, from what is plain, 
 obvious, and direct. An affected person meets a 
 friend in the street : he is his friend, and there 
 is, at times, something like real companionship 
 between the parties. The honest straight-for- 
 ward man extends his hand, with an ingenuous 
 smile on his countenance ; the other extends his 
 Jinger, and although glad enough to meet his 
 friend, thinks fit (he knows not why) to appear 
 as if he did not wish to be too intimate. A broad 
 stare, very much like that of an ape at a porce- 
 lain apple, is stamped on his visage. His gestures 
 and words are stiff and starched ; his figure is in- 
 clined just two degrees from the perpendicular. 
 He stands as if wishing to go, and replies in the 
 tone and style of a green parrot to all that is said. 
 And why is all this? Why, he thinks that in this 
 way he has the upper hand of his artless ac- 
 quaintance ; he thinks that these assumed man- 
 125
 
 AFFECTATION. 
 
 ners enable him to manage people wonderfully 
 well whenever he pleases ; besides he has taken 
 up an idea, that stiff, cold, and formal manners 
 are gentlemanly, and show good breeding ; and 
 he makes this conduct the more conspicuous that 
 others may be sure to notice it, and if to notice, 
 to admire and to envy him, as a matter of course. 
 He dreams not that his labour is ever lost ; that 
 success is ever wanting. It enters not into the 
 thick head of that tall or short-whiskered fool, 
 that he is an object of contempt to the wise ; 
 aye, and to the unwise ; for even blockheads, if 
 they do not happen to be affected blockheads, are 
 better judges than he of human nature. He is 
 not aware that one must be a man to be a gen- 
 tleman, and that he who thus descends to artifice 
 and dissimulation, is a child in judgment, and a 
 monkey in conduct. 
 
 Affectation may be compared to a coat of many 
 
 pieces and divers colours, ill fitted and neither 
 
 stitched nor tied, which some unblest mortal 
 
 might endeavour, with incessant pains and solici- 
 
 126
 
 AFFECTATION. 
 
 tude, to hold together and to wear. Let us for- 
 bear the epithet of a fool, to one so actintr, until 
 he is rightly named who assumes from choice 
 (necessity there can be none) the incommodious, 
 unprosperous, and despicable guise of affected 
 sentiments, words and manners; and, who ap- 
 pearing to the utmost disadvantage whilst making 
 these obvious, though guileful efforts, congratu- 
 lates himself on his imagined skill and success, 
 and feels all that satisfaction and chuckling com- 
 placency common to paltry feelings and a little 
 mind. 
 
 That affectation, in proportion as it exists, is 
 the consequence of a weak and diseased judg- 
 ment, which, like a broken helm, deceives and 
 misdirects, appears evident from this, that persons 
 afflicted with it ever make an utterly false esti- 
 mate of their own power of concealment, and of 
 the powers which persons in general possess of 
 discernment. The string of unprisoned shopmen, 
 who on Sundays arm in arm occupy the whole 
 width of pavement of a London street, have not 
 127
 
 AFFECTATION. 
 
 sense and judgment strong- enough to apprise 
 them, that the long, measured, and simultaneous 
 step, the periodical patting of the cork heel"upon 
 the flag stones ; the swallow-tailed coat ; the 
 cravat nine inches broad ; the unshaved throat, 
 and collars above the ears ; the silver mounted 
 glasses ; the supercilious stare, and so forth ; — 
 all go to prove them what they are — unprisoned 
 shopmen, — and what they need not be, silly and 
 vulgar fellows to boot. There is not a road- 
 sweeper to whom they do, or do not, -toss a half- 
 penny at a crossing, but knows them instantly to 
 be low-conditioned men by these plebeian char- 
 acteristics. Notwithstanding the constant pro- 
 pensity " to magnify the idea of self," they are 
 by their own act placing themselves at the wrong 
 end of the telescope. They are pigmies in the 
 eyes of all but themselves. What then is a 
 man's judgment worth which thus influences his 
 conduct 1 
 
 But without descending so low as to the char- 
 acters just mentioned, abundant specimens of 
 128
 
 AFFECTATION. 
 
 absurd and odious affectation may be discovered. 
 Indeed its varieties and its degrees, if not infinite, 
 far exceed our present ability to recognize indi- 
 vidually. To distinguish the forms and shades 
 of it, even amongst men of intellect, would be a 
 mighty task which we must decline. It is a 
 mawkish malady, however, which in them, as in 
 others, indicates weakness of mind and judgment, 
 in proportion as it is allowed. It is said that 
 when a wise man plays the fool he does it with a 
 vengeance ; and so it is, that the most glaring 
 examples of affectation (though of an entirely 
 different kind from that above referred to) have 
 been furnished by persons of unquestioned ability, 
 and of considerable mental vigour. One may 
 see, for instance, a tall, square-shouldered, awk- 
 ward man, with a lean, bony visage, by no means 
 inexpressive, however, and exhibiting indications 
 of the power and habit of thinking ; of such an 
 one, it may be said emphatically that he is no 
 fool as regards his capacity, and a very great 
 one as regards his conduct. He will walk into 
 I 129
 
 AFFECTATION. 
 
 a room in which sundry persons are sitting-, as 
 good, however, as he is, in the former particular, 
 and vastly his betters in all others. He will 
 take off his great coat by a most methodical, 
 precise, and deliberate act of decortication, and 
 will hand it to a lady to put away with all the 
 indifference of a parson resigning his surplice to 
 the sexton. Then he will subside into a chair, 
 and turning his back upon the unnoticed indivi- 
 dual who sits next him, until the two mightily 
 resemble the sign Pisces of the Zodiac, he will 
 address himself to some child ; or if otherwise 
 minded, will sit absolutely silent ; yea, although 
 that silence from peculiar circumstances may be 
 a peculiar outrage upon common good manners. 
 Yet that man could converse in a rational and 
 interesting way; but it is his pleasure at pre- 
 sent to assume the mingled character of the bear 
 and the ass. His affectation and folly therein 
 are more conspicuous than his wisdom, even 
 when he is not thus unwise. He much over- 
 rates his reputation as a man of intellect, when 
 130
 
 AFFECTATION. 
 
 he thinks that in the opinion of others it will ad- 
 mit of such large deductions, and yet show a ba- 
 lance in his favour. 
 
 Then there is a distinct sort of affectation, 
 common enough, but peculiar to elderly persons, 
 especially men. How many a short, stout, sturdy, 
 crabbed, testy and churlish old curmudgeon, de- 
 rives his sole title to these unlovely character- 
 istics from the source of all affectation — a morbid 
 desire to seem to be what the individual in fact 
 is not. The greatest compliment that can be 
 paid him is to tell him that he has more affecta- 
 tion than his grandson of twenty or his grand- 
 daughter of fifteen — a pre-eminence quite need- 
 less, certainly, — that he has a sort of pride in 
 being thought austere, inflexible, and crusty; 
 that he is as fond of exhibiting his odd old-fash- 
 ioned ways as his fair descendant may be of show- 
 ing off her fantastical new-fangled airs — such he 
 is pleased to call them ; that if his judgment had 
 been more sound, and his mental vigour greater, 
 he would have been neither crabbed, testy, crusty, 
 131
 
 AFFECTATION, 
 
 nor churlish, seeing- he is, when he is himself^ a 
 good sort of kind-hearted man. Some may not 
 readily recognize the affectation of characters of 
 this sort. Others, however, can see it under 
 many a brown wig and three-cocked hat. Whilst 
 girls affect smiles, these affect frowns ; the former 
 to please others, the latter to please themselves. 
 It must be borne in mind, that at whatever 
 period of life and in whatever characters this 
 affectation is discovered, a want of good-breeding 
 is clearly manifested. Low-conditioned persons 
 generally contrive, by follies of this sort, to point a 
 finger to their origin which is a most faithful index. 
 As a young gentleman never assumes the man- 
 ners or guise of a dandy, so an old gentleman 
 adopts not those of the churl. Doubtless there 
 is much in the bearing of a high-bred man, and 
 in the intercourse of the best . society, which is 
 assumed in a certain way and for certain pur- 
 poses; but he knows little indeed of human 
 nature who confounds this for an instant with the 
 affectation we have been speaking of A gentle- 
 132
 
 AFFECTATION. 
 
 man, adopting the usages of society, may meet 
 another, and say, " How do you do, Sir ] 1 am 
 very glad to see you," though in fact he would 
 rather just then have passed on without interrup- 
 tion. Although this sort of thing is much better 
 avoided, it arises not at all from that infirm habit 
 and temper of the mind which usually gives 
 birth to affectation. In one case, the endeavour 
 is merely to please by appearing pleased ; in the 
 other it is as nearly the reverse of this as pos- 
 sible. 
 
 This we know, that a certain destitution of 
 judgment and sound sense ; an infirmity of prin- 
 ciple and of purpose ; unconsciousness in the 
 party of these or any other mental disadvan- 
 tages ; together with the consequent measure of 
 conceit and self-approval, make up something 
 like the character of a fool (pardon the epithet). 
 When with these there, is combined a peculiar 
 appetite for praise, and an unhealthy solicitude 
 respecting the opinion of others, he becomes an 
 affected fool ; that is, of course, to a measured or 
 133
 
 AFFECTATION. 
 
 unmeasured extent, according to circumstances. 
 If this unenvied personage should have in addi- 
 tion — as is very frequently the case — a spice of 
 ambition, and of the love of distinction, then his 
 affectation takes the turn of eccentricity, re- 
 specting which we may perhaps have a vi^ord or 
 two to say upon a future occasion. 
 134
 
 POLITENESS AT HOME. 
 
 The truly polite person is polite everywhere. 
 He does not reserve his good breeding" for great 
 occasions, or put it on only w'^hen he puts on his 
 dress coat. At home, as well as abroad, he prac- 
 tises the rules of politeness, which he has taken 
 care to render habitual. 
 
 Towards all the members of one's own family 
 one should habitually be governed by laws of 
 civility not less precise than those which govern 
 the intercourse of general society ; but modified 
 by a degree of tenderness mingled with respect, 
 which cannot be claimed by common acquaint- 
 ance. 
 
 To your father you should show a degree of 
 respectful deference, to which no other person is 
 entitled. His opinions should be received with 
 submission, and his advice with gratitude and 
 attention. His foibles, if perceived, should be 
 13.5
 
 I" 
 
 POLITENESS AT HOME. >' 
 
 concealed more carefully than your own. His 
 comfort and convenience should be studied on 
 every occasion, and your own should be cheerful- 
 ly sacrificed to promote them. Your mother 
 may perhaps be treated with more freedom, but 
 with more tenderness. Happy is the mother to 
 whom her children render the unreserved homage 
 of the heart. Other relations, as uncles, aunts, 
 brothers, sisters, and cousins, claim attention and 
 respect in proportion to the dignity and worth of 
 their characters or the nearness of their relation- 
 ship. They should always receive a preference 
 over common acquaintance in respect to visits, 
 invitations, and other attentions of the same kind. 
 This is the law of nature ; and however its vio- 
 lation may be seemingly passed over, the world 
 never forgives a man for slighting and neglect- 
 ing those who are connected with him by ties of 
 consanguinity. 
 
 The politeness which should govern the con- 
 duct of married people towards each other is one 
 of the most important elements of conjugal feli- 
 136
 
 POLITENESS AT HOME, 
 
 city. Men who lay aside all the civility which 
 they practised before marriage, as soon as the 
 nuptial knot is tied, and substitute for it the most 
 unlimited freedom of behaviour, will soon find 
 that familiarity breeds contempt and leads to dis- 
 sension. A certain degree of respect is consist- 
 ent with, and indeed essential to a well fegulated 
 affection, and a man should prove by his attention 
 to the laws of politeness in the presence of his 
 wife that he understands the truth of the obser- 
 vation that " he who is a gentleman at all, is a 
 gentleman at all times." 
 
 To descend to a few particulars, — In conversa- 
 tion at the fireside and at table, you should choose 
 such topics as are most likely to interest your 
 wife, as she will be likely to observe the same rule 
 towards yourself. If she should happen to have 
 chosen. some subject in which you are not inte- 
 rested, you should not make her sensible of her 
 mistake by inattention or listlessness in your 
 manner. 
 
 Endeavour to render your meals social as well 
 137
 
 POLITENESS AT HOME. 
 
 as physical repasts ; and by no means indulge in 
 the unsocial habit of reading a book or a news- 
 paper while you are taking your coffee. I have 
 known ladies who made it a rule always to lay 
 down their book when their husband came into 
 the room ; and they had no reason to regret this 
 mark of attention. 
 
 A married person should respect the letters, 
 and avoid searching into the secrets, which may 
 be concealed from a sense of delicacy, by his or 
 her partner. It is not less important to avoid 
 speaking before others, of what it is unnecessary 
 they should know, of domestic concerns, and to 
 abstain from undue or unseemly marks of affec- 
 tion in public or before indifferent persons. 
 
 Many more particulars might easily be enu- 
 merated: but a general disposition to promote 
 the happiness of one's partner, not only by solid 
 kindness, but by delicate attention, will go far to 
 fulfil the laws of politeness for married people. 
 138
 
 TREATMENT OF SERVANTS. 
 
 The proper treatment of servants is a subject 
 of no small im.portance to all who wish to live 
 comfortably ; for on this depends in a great mea- 
 sure their character and usefulness. When a 
 person is constantly complaining of bad servants, 
 insolent servants, &c. it is generally a sign 
 he has not learned the secret that politeness 
 towards this useful class of society goes further 
 towards gaining their good-will, and rendering 
 them efficient and faithful, than high wages or 
 easy duties. 
 
 Servants should never be addressed in a loud 
 or imperative tone of voice ; but always kindly 
 and gently ; and instead of calling them " wait- 
 er !" " cook !" &c. it is well to address them by 
 the Christian or surname as may be most suitable. 
 They should not be treated with too much fami- 
 liarity, nor conversed with upon any subject but 
 139
 
 TREATMENT OF SERVANTS. 
 
 their duties, as a general rule ; and when they 
 have rendered any little service, it should be re- 
 ceived with some expression of acknowledgment. 
 Their interest and comfort should be consulted; 
 and they should see that the master or mistress 
 regards these matters with care. 
 
 Considerable attention is often required in in- 
 structing- servants in their duties ; and this should 
 be done in such a manner as to evince to them, 
 that their own improvement as well as your con- 
 venience is an object. 
 
 They should be instructed to attend respect- 
 fully to all persons who call at the door, to receive 
 their messages and attentively forward their 
 wishes as much as possible. They should be 
 taught the proper manner of introducing persons 
 into your apartments, and receiving their cloaks, 
 hats, &c. handing them a chair, and conducting 
 them to the door, &c. when the visit is closed. 
 
 Servants should be trusted to a certain extent, 
 but not too far. They should not Iiave wines 
 and delicacies left constantly within their reach ; 
 140
 
 TREATMENT OF SERVANTS. 
 
 nor should they be too jealously watched with 
 respect to such matters. We may trust without 
 tempting' them. 
 
 In travelling- it is absolutely necessary to un- 
 derstand the proper manner of treating servants, 
 in order to receive any attention in steamboats, 
 hotels, &c. It is a sure sign of vulgarity to ob- 
 serve a man bawling out " waiter !" at the top 
 of his voice, and testifying great anxiety to have 
 some particular thing brought instantly to him 
 from a distant part of the table. It is much bet- 
 ter to catch the eye of one of the attendants, 
 beckon him to you, and give your direction in a 
 quiet, low tone. You can preface your request 
 with " you will oblige me by doing so and so ;" or 
 
 " I will trouble you to ;" at the same time, 
 
 the tone and manner may indicate, without giving 
 offence, that you are accustomed to prompt and 
 cheerful attention. 
 
 Servants have a broad perception of the ridi- 
 culous, and instantly detect your pompous, con- 
 sequential parvenu. 
 
 Ill
 
 WALKING THE STREETS. 
 
 We should remember that the street is quite 
 a public place, and that vulgarity there goes far 
 to establish a character for it everywhere. 
 
 A person whose right side is towards the wall 
 is generally considered as having a claim to keep 
 next it when he meets another. Of course it 
 follows that it is an act of politeness to waive 
 this right in behalf of any one to whom you wish 
 to show respect. 
 
 When walking with an umbrella raised, it is 
 particularly rude to thrust it before you in such a 
 manner as to present to every person you meet 
 the alternative of giving up the whole side- walk, 
 or receiving a push in the face. ' 
 
 When a gentleman sees a lady about to pass 
 a wet or muddy place, he will of course offer his 
 hand respectfully to help her over, although she 
 may be a stranger. 
 
 142
 
 WALKING THE STREETS. 
 
 It is uncivil to stop a person in the street to 
 speak on business of your own ; or to detain a 
 superior in the street, on any pretence. When 
 persons stop to converse in the street, the person 
 who is inferior in age or station, should not be the 
 first to bid good morning, but should wait the 
 other's pleasure ; and a gentleman should always 
 observe this rule with respect to a lady. 
 
 When you meet a gentleman walking with his 
 wife, or with other ladies, raise your hat in sa- 
 luting him ; although you may be on the most 
 familiar terms with him. 
 
 If you meet an acquaintance walking with a 
 stranger, you bow without stopping to converse : 
 and if you are walking with a friend, and he bows 
 to some one who is a stranger to you, it is polite 
 for you to bow also to him. 
 
 If you chance to see an acquaintance at a win- 
 dow, it is proper to bow ; but it is not proper to" 
 stare towards the windows as you pass along 'the 
 street; nor to look strangers, especially ladies, 
 full in the face, when you meet them. 
 143
 
 WALKING THE STREETS. 
 
 Salutations in the streets vary with the circum- 
 stances of the case. In some cases we bow with- 
 out touching the hat ; in others, we touch the 
 hat. In meeting- ladies or gentlemen entitled to 
 much respect, we take off the hat, and remain 
 uncovered while conversing with them. 
 
 When you wish to converse with a person you 
 meet, on affairs interesting to both, it is proper, 
 instead of stopping him, to turn and walk a short 
 distance with him, as you thus make sure of not 
 encroaching on his time. 
 144
 
 SALUTATIONS. 
 
 The modes of salutation vary according lo the 
 rank of the person you meet, or the terms of ac- 
 quaintance you may sustain with him. With 
 common acquaintance, a slight bow, or a graceful 
 wave of the hand, answers the purpose. More 
 distant acquaintances require the hat to be touch- 
 ed, or just raised ; and in saluting ladies you 
 should take the hat off. 
 
 Ladies should bow to their acquaintance when 
 they meet them in walking, as the courtesy is 
 rather an awkward manoeuvre in this case. 
 
 it is a good rule to salute another with at least 
 as much formality as he uses towards you ; unless 
 it is necessary in some particular instance to re- 
 press undue familiarity, when a feeling of self- 
 respect will dictate the proper degree of stiffhess 
 or coldness to be used for the purpose. 
 
 When you have had a misunderstanding with 
 K 145
 
 SALUTATIONS. 
 
 any one, it is churlish to pass him in the street 
 without bowing, unless he has totally forfeited 
 the character of a gentleman. You may in such 
 a case bow as coldly as you please, but you should 
 by no means omit to bow. 
 
 Meeting and conversing with a person in a 
 stage-coach or steamboat, or at the springs, does 
 not entitle one to salute him when he is casually 
 met afterwards; and it is a mark of ill-breeding 
 to claim acquaintance on such grounds. Circum- 
 stances may vary this rule ; but the principle is 
 that you cannot claim acquaintance simply on the 
 ground of such a meeting. 
 
 If there has been a formal introduction by some 
 mutual friend, and you are placed on the footing 
 of an acquaintance as you would be at home, or 
 at the house of a mutual friend, that alters the 
 case, and makes it necessary to regard the indi- 
 vidual as a regular acquaintance. 
 146
 
 INTRODUCTIONS. 
 
 We are gravely informed in a late work on 
 etiquette, that the words introduction and intro- 
 duce are, at present, rarely heard in good compa- 
 ny ; and that the terms presentation and present 
 have taken their place. The subsequent remarks 
 of the writer go to show that if the word present 
 is used in introducing one person to another, one 
 of those persons is necessarily supposed to be the 
 inferior of the other. 
 
 This is a sufficient reason for our retaining the 
 old fashioned terms in our republican country, 
 and we predict that the most sensible and best- 
 bred persons among us, will continue to use 
 them, at least till some better substitutes Ihan 
 those proposed shall be found. 
 
 It is rather stiff and formal to say, " Allow me 
 to introduce Mr. So-and-so" — " Let me make you 
 acquainted with Mr. W." &-c. Merely to name 
 147
 
 INTRODUCTIONS. 
 
 the parties distinctly to each other is better, al- 
 though there are cases of ceremony in which the 
 other form may be used. 
 
 With respect to the persons whom it may be 
 proper to introduce to each other, it is very diffi- 
 cult to lay down general rules. The principle 
 by which we should regulate our proceedings in 
 this matter seems to be to introduce only those 
 persons to each other to whom you may suppose 
 an introduction will be mutually agreeable. To 
 make all persons who happen to meet in your 
 presence acquainted with each other would lead 
 to very unpleasant consequences; and to avoid 
 introducing people to each other, on every occa- 
 sion, would at once give you the character of a 
 churl. You must be governed in this matter by 
 your knowledge of the persons and of the circ»m- 
 st?iDces under which they meet. 
 
 Never give a letter of introduction to a person 
 
 unless you are thoroughly acquainted with his 
 
 character and pretensions ; and have strong 
 
 claims for favours on the person to whom you in- 
 
 148
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 troduce him. Always ask yourself the question, 
 how should I like to have this identical person 
 fastened upon me with a letter of introduction 
 from my friend 1 and g-overn yourself accordingly. 
 When you are thrown accidentally into the 
 company of persons travelling-, and are to remain 
 with them for some time, it is foolish and ill-bred 
 to decline conversing with them on common and 
 indifferent topics, because you do not happen to 
 have been introduced. A true gentleman is 
 never afraid of contamination from such casual 
 intercourse. 
 
 149
 
 PRESENTS. 
 
 Presents, being expressions of civility, come 
 properly under our notice in the present work. 
 Their worth in the receiver depends almost en- 
 tirely on the happy and delicate manner in which 
 they are offered. 
 
 Presents should generally be of trifling value ; 
 or at least their value should be chiefly factitious. 
 The product of our own labour or ingenuity, or 
 some production of our own garden, farm, sport- 
 ing or fishing, may be offered to a friend without 
 any violation of propriety at every season. If 
 we happen accidentally to become possessed of 
 some book, picture, or antiquity which may be 
 particularly valuable to another on account of his 
 peculiar tastes or studies, that circumstance af- 
 fords a very proper apology for offering the article 
 as a present. 
 
 There are particular seasons, as the new-year, 
 150
 
 PRESENTS. 
 
 Christmas, or a birth-day, which render presents 
 suitable, and their kind or value may then be 
 regulated by custom or inclination. 
 
 It is well to affect some little mystery occa- 
 sionally in making these periodical presents, by 
 sending them without your name, or leaving 
 them where they will be unexpectedly found by 
 the receiver. The surprise is an agreeable cir- 
 cumstance, and enhances the value of the gift. 
 
 After a present has been received and acknow- 
 ledged, it is bad ton to advert to it, or lead the 
 conversation to the subject again. However tri- 
 fling a present may be which you receive, you 
 should acknowledge it with gratitude ; and it is 
 well to find and express some particular circum- 
 stance which gives it peculiar value to yourself. 
 A present should not be given away ; or, if any 
 thing should seem to warrant or require such a 
 proceeding, we should at least take care that it 
 never becomes known to the giver. 
 
 A gentleman should by no means offer a costly 
 gift to a lady. It places her in a very embarrass- 
 151
 
 PRESENTS. 
 
 ing situation, as she is thus reduced to the alter- 
 native of refusing it outright, or incurring a 
 heavy obligation. Nor is it strictly proper for 
 a gentleman to offer a young lady to vi^hom he is 
 not engaged to be married, any ornament which 
 is intended to be worn on the person. Even after 
 engagement, a young lady of strict delicacy is 
 not fond of receiving such marks of attention ; 
 and a gentleman who reflects a moment on this 
 subject will require no ghost to tell him the 
 
 reasons. 
 
 152
 
 KEEPING APPOINTMENTS. 
 
 There is no surer mark of ill-breeding than a 
 want of punctuality in keeping your appoint- 
 ments ; since in case of failure, unless the person 
 you are to meet is as careless as yourself, you 
 are sure to keep him waiting, or perhaps inflict 
 a serious disappointment. 
 
 Appointments with ladies, in particular, should 
 be very sacredly observed. Good policy as well 
 as politeness requires this, as they forgive an 
 injury much more easily than a slight. 
 
 Persons in official situations, or those whose 
 time is particularly valuable to them, should never 
 be kept waiting; and in keeping appointments 
 with such persons, it is better to be a little before 
 than a little after the time. 
 
 It is not your character merely for politeness 
 that suffers by a want of punctuality ; but your 
 153
 
 KEEPING APPOINTMENTS. 
 
 character for business ; and hence it becomes a 
 matter of serious moment to render punctuality 
 a fixed habit. To be caught tripping once in cer- 
 tain important contingencies, may destroy your 
 prospects for life. Make it a matter of principle 
 therefore to be punctual on all occasions. 
 154 
 
 r
 
 APPEARANCE IN SOCIETY. 
 
 Among the studies essential to pleasing in so- 
 ciety, that of the appearance is one of much con- 
 sequence. Few or no individuals indeed are so 
 gifted by talent as to be enabled to forego atten- 
 tion to this particular; as I have previously re- 
 marked, the first appearance and address, both in 
 male and female, but too often conveys an effect 
 of pleasure or dislike, that, not unfrequently, be- 
 comes a permanent feeling. 
 
 "What great effects from little causes spring !" 
 
 Although it cannot but be granted that this is, 
 generally speaking, a very ridiculous prejudice ; 
 it is one, I am convinced, but too common in soci- 
 ety. The eye, in fact, is, and ever will be, in a 
 great degree, the criterion of taste ; a sufficient 
 reason why every one should study to appear to 
 the best advantage. 
 
 When a man or woman is slovenly in dress 
 155
 
 APPEARANCE IN SOCIETY. 
 
 or appearance, as some author observes, it may 
 fairly be set down that there is something pro- 
 bably wrong. But in youth, neglect of the 
 person at once speaks a mind lost to the most 
 pleasing feelings and associations of life ; it de- 
 stroys all desire to please, and to observe the 
 express rules of enlightened society. Some 
 eccentric people there are, indeed, who pretend 
 to underrate attention to the appearance as frivo- 
 lous and unworthy the notice of the intellect. 
 
 But independent of the command of the Crea- 
 tor respecting cleanliness, which, by the way, 
 could only be kept but by a close attention to 
 the person, such doctrines as the foregoing only 
 bespeak a mind dead to the social pleasures and 
 enjoyments of life. 
 
 Chesterfield observes, " that a pleasing exterior 
 is the best letter of introduction," and so it cer- 
 tainly is. The amiable Lavater has also judi- 
 ciously remarked, " that those who bestow parti- 
 cular attention to dross, show the same love of 
 order and regularity in their domestic affairs." 
 156
 
 THE HANDS. 
 
 " Young persons," he goes on to state, " who ne- 
 glect their toilet, display in this very neglect, a 
 want of order, a mind not adapted to the manage- 
 ment of domestic concerns, little taste, and little 
 amiableness. The girl who does not strive to 
 please at fifteen, will be a disagreeable woman at 
 twenty-five." 
 
 As the first, and perhaps most consequential 
 thing connected with the appearance, particular- 
 ly of the ladies, I shall proceed to matters con- 
 nected with the toilet, and first of 
 
 THE HANDS. 
 
 Cleanliness is no less essential to comfort 
 than health, while no one thing is so truly de- 
 grading as dirty hands or face in a lady. — It dis- 
 plays, at first sight, a familiarity with very low 
 habits, that is even shocking to the delicacy of 
 the female character, where we naturally look 
 for every outward perfection of appearance that is 
 pleasing and engaging, as the nature of their 
 157
 
 THE HANDS. 
 
 habits and pursuits is supposed to be of a much 
 more refined order than that of men. 
 
 In high life, few things more bespeak the true 
 lady and gentleman than the appearance of the 
 hand. Lord Byron has gone so far as to affirm, 
 that a white and delicate hand is a sign of patri- 
 cian birth. Although I cannot exactly agree in 
 this declaration, yet the attention that is com- 
 monly bestowed upon the hands in the upper cir- 
 cles of fashion at once shows the importance that 
 is attached to them. 
 
 One assertion may be relied upon in reference 
 to the hands, — the finest and most delicate from 
 nature may be made coarse by neglect ; and, vice 
 versa, the roughest fine, by attention. In cor- 
 roboration, I shall now clearly explain. — The 
 formation of the hand, in the first instance, of 
 course comes from nature, and if not distorted in 
 early life by rough usage and hard work, it of 
 course will retain its form, such as it may be. 
 Hence arises the grand distinction between the 
 hands of gentlemen and artizans. The former, 
 158
 
 THE HANDS. 
 
 from care and attention, preserve to their hands 
 all the advantages of formation with which na- 
 ture may have endowed them ; while those of 
 the mechanic or artizan are soon distorted in 
 shape and make, rough and coarse, as by their 
 constant use, it may be, in work. Thus, there- 
 fore, the distinction between the hands of the 
 higher and lower orders, arises from treatment, 
 and not nature, as Byron affected to fancy. 
 
 The most prejudicial habits in early youth, to 
 the hands frequently arise from the learning the 
 piano-forte and harp. The former, particularly, 
 if not well looked to, from the early endeavours 
 of children in stretching the octave, is apt to 
 render the fingers crooked ; while the latter, if 
 played without the proper covering to the fingers, 
 thickens and hardens the ends to a most unplea- 
 sant extent. A few hints respecting the culture 
 of the hands, may not perhaps be deemed unac- 
 *beptable. 
 
 I shall first proceed to show the method of ob- 
 taining a sofl and white skin, and afterwards of 
 159
 
 THE HANDS. 
 
 good nails, — the two cliief attributes of a lady-like 
 or gentlemanly hand. With regard to the skin, it 
 may be freely remarked, that nothing is so con- 
 ducive to the preservation of its beauty, as fre- 
 quently washing in warm water and with fine 
 soaps. Gloves too, by ladies, should always be 
 worn in the house ; it is a very elegant fashion, 
 and tends much to preserve the delicacy of the 
 hands. After washing the hands, they should 
 always be rubbed dry; if they be not, the damp 
 left on the skin is apt to turn them red, than 
 which nothing can be more inimical to the pleas- 
 ing appearance of the hands. 
 
 When, however, the hands have been neglected 
 for any length of time, or have been naturally 
 coarse and of a bad colour, an excellent thing to 
 wash with is oatmeal. — Use it thus : after having 
 well washed the hands in hot water and soap — 
 fine soap, for there is less alkali in its composi- 
 tion than the common, — take some of the meal 
 in the hands, and after wetting it, keep rubbing 
 them together some time, then dry them well 
 160
 
 THE HANDS. 
 
 with a coarse towel. By this means the uneven 
 surface of the skin gradually becomes softened, 
 and the colour will be found improved. An ex- 
 cellent recipe for giving a temporary whiteness 
 to the hands, is the juice of lemons. 
 
 A very common notion prevails that the use of 
 oil and wax, and sleeping in kid gloves, refines 
 the hands — a practice that is not only very un- 
 healthy by preventing the proper circulation of 
 the blood, but inefficacious in' every respect. 
 
 Next to colour, the nails most attract the at- 
 tention to the hand. Those that are considered 
 the handsomest, are the fiilbert-shaped, so termed, 
 from their resemblance to the fruit so called. In 
 the care of the hand, the nails require much at- 
 tention. The too frequent blemish to the nails 
 are white spots, and the undue growth of the 
 skin immediately round the nail. The Circas- 
 sians have a pink dye, in which senna forms a 
 principal ingredient, to remedy the first of these 
 blemishes ; but the exact recipe used, is unknown 
 in this country. With regard to the thickness 
 L 161
 
 THE HANDS. 
 
 of the skin that skirts the nail, it is frequently 
 occasioned by the injudicious use of the scissors 
 or penknife, in trimming the nails : for to cut it 
 off is to increase the defect by causing accele- 
 rated growth. The only method that presents 
 itself of keeping it under, is by the free and fre- 
 quent use of a hard nail-brush, the use of hot 
 water, and the employment of a corner of the 
 towel in turning it back every time you wash. 
 
 If this treatment be continued for any length 
 of time together, it will rid the fingers of the 
 hardest skin, by means of keeping up a brisk cir- 
 culation in the hand, in which alone consists the 
 art of obtaining and keeping the skin of the hai^d 
 fine, as it calls into action all the minute pores 
 and their secretions, thus rendering it smooth 
 and soft. 
 
 With regard to soaps, I have heard many very 
 high encomiums bestowed upon Rigge's scented 
 soap, for the pleasing effect it has in softening 
 and whitening the skin. 
 
 162
 
 CHAPPED HANDS. 
 
 CHAPPED HANDS. 
 
 There is not a more common or more trouble- 
 some complaint in the winter season, especially 
 with females, than chapped hands. It is rather 
 remarkable that few individuals seem to know 
 the true cause of this affection. Most people at- 
 tribute it to the use of hard water, and insist 
 upon washing, on all occasions, with rain or 
 brook water. Now the truth is, that chapped 
 hands are invariably occasioned by the injudicious 
 use of soap ; and the soap affects them more in 
 winter than in the summer, because in the former 
 season the hands are not moistened with perspi- 
 ration, which contracts the alkaline effects of the 
 soap. There is a small portion of alkali in hard 
 water, but not so much as there is in soft water, 
 with the addition of soap. The constant use of 
 soap in washing, even though the softest water 
 be used, will cause tender hands to be champed, 
 unless some material be afterwards used to neu- 
 tralize its alkaline properties. In summer the 
 163
 
 CHAPPED HANDS. 
 
 oily property of the perspirable moisture answers 
 this purpose ; but in winter, a very little vinegar 
 or cream Vv^ill, by being rubbed on the dried 
 hands, after the use of soap, completely neutral- 
 ize its alkaline properties, and thereby effectually 
 prevent the chapping of the hands. Any other 
 acid or oily substance will answer the same pur- 
 pose. There are some very delicate hands 
 which are never chapped. This exemption from 
 the complaint arises from the greater abundance 
 of perspirable matter which anoints and softens 
 the skin. Dry and cold hands are most afflicted 
 with this complaint. 
 
 THE TEETH. 
 
 No gift is more acceptable from Nature than 
 good teeth. To appreciate, to value them fully, 
 their loss must first be previously felt. The de- 
 cay of teeth takes place from two causes : ne- 
 glect, or a constitutional predisposition to grow 
 carious, first shown by their changing colour. Of 
 the first cause, the early habit of eating sweets, 
 164
 
 THE TEETH. 
 
 and not cleaning them sufficiently often; the 
 biting of threads among girls when sewing, &c. 
 frequently occasions a premature decay. But 
 notwithstanding their liability to decay from so 
 many causes, art and attention may be rendered 
 highly available in their preservation and health- 
 ful appearance. It may be relied upon that no- 
 thing contributes so much to the welfare of the 
 teeth, as cleaning them often, but particularly 
 after meals; inasmuch as the particles of food 
 that get into the interstices of the teeth, and if 
 suffered to remain any length of time unmoved, 
 gradually corrupt and destroy the enamel. For 
 this reason, therefore, the teeth should always 
 undergo a brushing previous to a person going 
 to bed: a regard to cleanliness, indeed, alone 
 demands this care, particularly among married 
 persons, as the breath is greatly influenced by 
 the above cause. 
 
 Gentlemen as well as ladies cannot be too cau- 
 tious what powders they use to their teeth, as 
 some that have attained a temporary popularity 
 165
 
 THE TEETH. 
 
 by dint of puffing-, are extremely pernicious. 
 Many of this description of powder are of a kind 
 that would impose upon the most wary ; for chiefly 
 composed of vegetable acids, their application, 
 while it gives an instant and temporary whiteness 
 to the foulest teeth, at the same time corrodes 
 the enamel, and, if persisted in, in a very few 
 years will destroy the finest teeth. Prepared 
 charcoal is among the finest preservatives of the 
 teeth, and at the same time, from its peculiar 
 disinfecting powers, of the breath also. The 
 following recipe makes a truly excellent tooth- 
 powder, which from the introduction of myrrh is 
 also highly beneficial to the gums : prepared 
 chalk, half an ounce ; powdered bark, half an 
 ounce; powdered myrrh, half an ounce; Orris 
 root, half an ounce : to be mixed well together. 
 
 But it should be recollected with regard to 
 tooth-powders, they should only be used in mode- 
 ration ; if they be not, they have a strong tenden- 
 cy, in the course of years, to wear away the 
 166
 
 THE TEETH. 
 
 enamel, which, by the way, forms the sole pre- 
 servation of the teeth. 
 
 If attention were paid to teeth, when first 
 they commence their decay, the remedies pos- 
 sessed by a dentist are perfectly efficient to stop 
 the progressing of the evil, by cutting out the 
 decayed part, and filling it up. By this means, I 
 have known several ladies and gentlemen who 
 have retained teeth of the utmost whiteness, 
 thus stopped, for twenty or thirty years, which, 
 had they been neglected, would have caused a 
 series of excruciating pain, and have gone alto- 
 gether. 
 
 For the purpose of examining the teeth, there 
 are small dental mirrors made, which no toilet- 
 table should be without. By the aid of this ex- 
 cellent little invention, the whole interior of the 
 mouth may be seen, and consequently any ap- 
 proaching decay observed in time. 
 
 The frequent extraction of teeth often tends to 
 destroy those remaining ; for instance, such is the 
 sympathy among the teeth, that the extraction 
 167
 
 THE TEETH. 
 
 of one never fails to be followed, in a short time, 
 by the fellow-one on the other side; and this 
 is often the forerunner of a slow but sure decay. 
 Early attention and care, therefore, are most im- 
 portant for the preservation of these beautiful 
 organs. 
 
 168
 
 CAUSES ON WHICH A TAINTED 
 BREATH DEPENDS 
 
 1. Scorbutic and scrofulous affections ; 2. 
 The use, and not unfrequently the abuse, of mer- 
 cury ; 3. Weak and diseased lungs ; 4, Carious 
 teeth ; 5. Ulcers in the palate, gums, and nose ; 
 6. Smoking or chewing tobacco ; 7. Habitual 
 drinking ; 8. Diseased fauces and uvula. 
 
 Scorbutic Affections. 
 
 A tainted breath from scorbutic gums is to be 
 cured radically by attacking the original com- 
 plaint. Local applications, such as antiseptic 
 gargles, are of service, so far as they correct the 
 putrid tendency of the animal juices, and the 
 laxity of the solids. 
 
 In the sea-scurvy, the juices are disposed to 
 putridity from the use of animal food and moist 
 air ; antiseptics, therefore, will be proper, as le- 
 169
 
 CAUSES OF A TAINTED BREATH. 
 
 mon-juice, nitre dissolved in vinegar, vegetables, 
 and fruit. In defect of these, infusion of malt, 
 or liquors made of molasses or sugar. Bark and 
 sulphuric acid are good ; mineral waters, joined 
 with bitters or bark, are also good. 
 
 The land-scurvy (improperly so called), is ra- 
 ther a cutaneous disease ; scurfy or scabby erup- 
 tions appear, either partially or more universally, 
 often with itching or heat. The treatment here 
 consists in antimonial alteratives, with sometimes 
 gentle mercurials : lime-water, or the compound 
 juice of scurvy-grass, may be used with them ; 
 crystals of tartar and flowers of sulphur are good. 
 
 These are the means to cure a tainted breath 
 depending on a scorbutic affection. The local 
 applications may be selected from some of the 
 forms or recipes here laid down ; — keeping the 
 mouth and teeth clean ; chewing mastich, lemon- 
 peel, and the like ; vegetable diet, and abstinence 
 from gross salted aliment. The following is also 
 a good corrector : — 
 
 170
 
 CAUSES OF A TAINTED BREATH. 
 
 Tincture of bark . . . . 3j 
 Tincture of gentian . . . ,^j 
 Tincture of cardamoms . , 3ij 
 
 Two tea-spoonsful to be taken in a wine-glass-full 
 of mint or balm-tea, at bed-time, and fasting in 
 the morning ; the same in a glass of soda-water 
 in the highest state of effervescence, about an 
 hour before dinner, paying every attention to 
 cleanliness, both locally and generally 
 
 Tainted Breath from the long use of Mercury. 
 
 The use of mercurial preparations, long con- 
 tinued, renders the breath highly disagreeable. 
 Mild occasional purgatives ; tonics, as bark vale- 
 rian, gentian, with the local remedies of an aro- 
 matic form, are all calculated to restore the con- 
 stitution to a healthy state. Frequent change 
 of linen, and ablution, free air, temperance, and 
 exercise, will purify and invigorate the fluids, and 
 render the perspirations healthy, which, under 
 such a condition of body, are generally of a sickly 
 and unwholesome nature. 
 171
 
 CAUSES OF A TAINTED BREATH. 
 
 Diseases of the chest, and ulcers of a serious 
 nature, give rise to an unpleasant breath. The 
 radical cure of such complaints will remove this 
 effect ; and local correctors will conceal it for the 
 time. 
 
 Chronic ulcers of the palate may be cured by 
 mercurial fumigation, conjoined with an alterative 
 course of medicine. In these cases, the cure re- 
 quires medical assistance, not so much to remove 
 an unpleasant breath, as to guard against general 
 constitutional affections. 
 
 The membrane lining tlie interior of the nose 
 is oflen affected for a length of time, without any 
 particular local inconvenience ; which, neverthe- 
 less, gives a most offensive odour to the breath as 
 it passes over its surface. A secretion, also, of 
 acrid humours frequently takes place, which 
 is at all times offensive. 
 
 The soft palate of the mouth is often the seat 
 
 of an ulcer, and is not unfrequently entirely 
 
 destroyed. In these cases, an alterative course 
 
 of mercury, judiciously conducted, with the use 
 
 172
 
 CAUSES OF A TAINTED BREATH. 
 
 of the woods, as sarsaparilla, guiacum, sassafras, 
 and mezerion, is necessary. The local correctors 
 are here to be used often : for, even for a length 
 of time after a cure is effected by these means, 
 the breath long remains in a contaminated state. 
 An artificial palate, where the ravages have been 
 considerable, is often requisite, as the voice suffers 
 in proportion to the injury done ; as may be wit- 
 nessed by the snivelling and rattling noise pro- 
 duced in speaking, drinking, and breathing, of 
 persons thus affected. An ulcer in the throat 
 nroduces, also, the same disagreeable effects on 
 the breath. These, however, are cases which, 
 during their activity, it belongs to the medical 
 art to counteract; though the nicest attentions 
 are requisite on the part of the individual, to alter 
 the effects by strict adherence to local cleanliness, 
 and the correcting of the tainted effluvia passing 
 from them. 
 
 173
 
 CAUSES OF A TAINTED BREATH. 
 
 Weak Lungs. 
 
 Weak and diseased lungs, the consequence of a 
 consumptive tendency, or a putrescency of the 
 fluids after fever and other ailments, also affect 
 the breath. In these cases, correctors of the tonic 
 and aromatic kind, where they are admissible, 
 will conceal in the first, and remove, eventually, 
 in the last case. 
 
 Smoking and Chewing Tobacco. 
 
 These habits of equivocal luxury give a strong 
 taint to the breath of the individual who indulges 
 in them, ^as well as habitual drinking. On re- 
 moving the cause, the effect will generally cease, 
 after a time. But where it is not agreeable to 
 desist from the one or the other practice, the best 
 advice we can give, in these cases, is local puri- 
 fication, where the aroma is likely to prove oflfen- 
 sive to a second person, by the constant use, at 
 stated times, of correctors, when approximation 
 renders this state of the breath particularly offen- 
 174
 
 CAUSES OF A TAINTED BREATH. 
 
 eive : — e. g. the gargles and tonic dentifrices, fre- 
 quent rinsing the mouth, and keeping the teeth 
 clean, and bowels soluble, — these all tend to neu- 
 tralize, in a tolerable manner, the unpleasant 
 olfactory sensation experienced by others on in- 
 haling a portion of the offensive vapour. Too 
 much attention cannot be bestowed in this respect, 
 particularly where the comforts of connubial life 
 are worthy of every little consideration. 
 
 To correct an offensive breath not depending 
 on any particular internal diseased action, a tea- 
 spoonful of yeast, mixed with a little luke-warm 
 water, is advised ; also, about ten grains of pow- 
 dered charcoal, in a glass of spring-water. Soda- 
 water or ginger beer, in a high state of efferves- ^ 
 cence — that is, made with the powders, instead 
 of being drawn from a bottle or the machine, will 
 also produce an excellent temporary effect, where 
 the breath is highly offensive. 
 
 About ten grains to a scruple, night and morn- 
 ing, of the best red bark, in a glass of good port 
 wine, continued for a short time, will oflen remove 
 175
 
 CAUSES OF A TAINTED BREATIT. 
 
 an unpleasant breath, provided the causes on 
 which it depends be known, and previously re- 
 moved or palliated. 
 
 Women who have borne many children have 
 rather an unpleasant taint of the breath. In this 
 case, it may proceed from constitutional debility, 
 hysterical affections, indigestion, and other debili- 
 tating and concomitant causes. Here the bark 
 and wine, with the addition of any of the tonic 
 tinctures, as gentian, valerian, catechu, carmina- 
 tives, or the tincture of cardomoms, or spirits of 
 lavender, will correct it. 
 
 ache; and some people who never drink wine 
 have been cured by the use of it. — Tissot 
 176
 
 THE HAIR. 
 
 ^. No. portion of female loveliness offers a 
 ^ner subject for the display of decorative taste 
 alid elegance than the hair; the countenance, 
 the contour of the head, — nav^even the whole 
 p^son, may be said to be greatly affected by its 
 arrangement and dress. As the possession of fine 
 hair is peculiarly prized, so is its loss proportion- 
 ably felt. But I shall do more justice by quoting 
 a very excellent little work that has appeared on 
 this subject. 
 
 " Philosophical and scientific enquirers are by 
 no means exactly agreed as to the reasons to be 
 assigned in many cases, for the decline or falling 
 off of the hair. Gray hair is caused, doubtless, 
 in the common course of nature, by contraction 
 of the skin, that prevents the coloured oil from 
 rising and giving it that life essential to it3 
 health. The passions of fear and grief, together 
 M 177
 
 THE HAIR. 
 
 with ill-health, as fever, ague, &c. frequently 
 prematurely cause gray hair. With regard to 
 the power exercised by grief on the hair, many 
 are the instances related by writers. Marie An- 
 toinette, the wife of Louis XVI. is said to have 
 iiad her hair changed in a single night ; as, also, 
 Ludovico, Sforza, &c. 
 
 Lord Byron alludes to the wonderful effects 
 of grief on the hair, in the stanzas commencing 
 his beautiful poem of ' The Prisoner of Chil- 
 'lon.' 
 
 ' My hair is gray, but not with tears ; 
 Nor grew it white 
 In a single night, 
 As men's have grown from sudden fears.' " 
 
 That decay of the hair springs from a want 
 of the proper supply of nourishment is clear : 
 but why that supply should decrease, when its 
 possessor is in excellent health, is a subject well 
 worthy of the closest medical enquiry. To find 
 a remedy, — which with all the puffing and adver- 
 tising exercised in this branch of the toilet, has 
 178
 
 THE HAIR. 
 
 never yet been done, — the cause, the reason of 
 this loss of essential stamina, must first be disco- 
 vered. 
 
 The first symptoms of the hair's decay may be 
 traced (if dark) by its turning a shade lighter. 
 This is followed by its assuming- a drooping ap- 
 pearance, coming out at the touch of the comb 
 or hand. It will always be remarked, too, that 
 it grows considerably thinner, proceeding fi-om 
 the decay of the nourishing matter contained by 
 the root, and that circulates through the interior 
 of each hair. 
 
 These symptoms, if not stopped in the first in- 
 stance by close and continued cutting or shaving, 
 as may be found most expedient, never fail to 
 produce baldness. 
 
 Like every other portion of the human frame, 
 the use of water to the hair is absolutely es- 
 sential to its health, as it tends to relieve the 
 secretions, and open the pores of the skin. The 
 jfrequency of the use of water, however, should 
 be greatly guided by circumstances. It may 
 179
 
 THE HAIR. 
 
 be set down as a regulating principle, that 
 the stronger and more healthy the hair may be, 
 the more water may be used with propriety ; by 
 the same rule, when the hair is weak and thin, 
 it should not be washed above once a week. At 
 such times, cold water alone should be used, 
 when care should be taken to diy it well imme- 
 diately after. Washing too often dries up the 
 requisite oily fluid that forms the nourishment of 
 the hair. 
 
 One of the most pernicious methods of wash- 
 ing the head is, with soap and hot water. This 
 practice, if continued any length of time, would 
 spoil the finest hair in the world. The hot water 
 alone is sufficient, for a time, to consume or dry 
 up the nourishing matter of the most prolific 
 roots ; while, as regards the soap, the alkali that 
 forms a portion of its manufacture, possesses most 
 poisonous qualities, which are more particularly 
 shown by its changing light hair to red : a result 
 that may frequently be observed to take place in 
 180
 
 THE HAIR. 
 
 men's whiskei^s, — and that arises from nothing 
 but the alkali. 
 
 Among other contingencies, the health of the 
 hair is greatly influenced by the circulation of 
 the blood. To the want of this necessary circu- 
 lation may more particularly be attributed the 
 early loss of hair, which so frequently exists 
 among people of sedentary habits and pursuits. 
 Besides the advantages arising from the free use 
 of the brush, in propelling and calling- into action 
 the contents of the numerous vessels and pores 
 interspersed over the head, that furnish life and 
 vigour to the hair ; the use of the brush, at the 
 same time, must be considered a powerful auxili- 
 ary in beautifying, as it not only polishes, but 
 promotes a tendency to curl. For these reasons, 
 the application of the brush must be considered 
 as highly healthful, while it is almost absolutely 
 indispensable to its pleasing appearance. 
 
 Some judgment is requisite in the choice of 
 brushes. Two are necessary: a penetrating, 
 and a polishing brush, the one composed of strong, 
 181
 
 THE HAIR. 
 
 and the other of fine, hair. The penetrating 
 brush, especially that used by ladies, should be 
 made of elastic hairs, rather inclining to irregu- 
 lar lengths. The other should be made of firm 
 soft silken hair, thickly studded. Unfortunately, 
 however, we cannot but often observe that pene- 
 trating brushes are often selected so harsh and 
 strong, that they fret the skin of the head, and 
 injure the roots, instead of gently and gradually 
 effecting the object for which they are intended. 
 Combs are merely used for the purpose of giv- 
 ing a form to the hair, and assisting in its deco- 
 rative arrangement ; to use them, however, too 
 often, is rather prejudicial than otherwise, as 
 they injure the roots of the hair. Above all 
 kinds, that of the small-toothed comb is the most 
 injurious in this respect, as it not only inflames 
 the tender skin, but, from the fineness of its teeth, 
 splits and crushes the hairs in being passed through 
 them. Persons must indeed be of very unclean- 
 ly habits, whose heads absolutely require the aid 
 of this comb; which we really think should 
 182
 
 THE HAIR. 
 
 never be seen out of the precincts of a mud ho- 
 vel. The brash, indeed, alone sufficiently pos- 
 sesses the power of effectually cleaning the head 
 from scurf, dandriff, and dust, if constantly used. 
 We strongly recommend its active operation on 
 the hair for ten minutes together, both night and 
 morning. To preserve that bright glossy and 
 orderly appearance essential to the hair of the 
 ladies, it is absolutely necessary. 
 
 With reference to the use of oil : the hair is 
 supplied with an oily secretion that emanates 
 from the roots. It is, as we have before remark- 
 ed, this fluid that nourishes, sustains, and pro- 
 motes the growth of hair. When, however, this 
 supply of essential fluid or matter (for it partakes 
 of the nature of both) is withdrawn, first shown 
 by the dry and lifeless exterior of the hair, an 
 outward application of oil, among men of science, 
 has been deemed proper, and found beneficial. 
 Since, however, the disuse of hair powder, cus- 
 tom has made grease, in one preparation or other, 
 an indispensable article to the toilet-table. But 
 183
 
 THE HAIR. 
 
 the use of grease to hair enjoying all the vigour 
 and luxuriance of healthful growth should never 
 be more frequent than once every day, and then 
 only in very small quantity, for the mere purpose 
 of dressing it. The proper method of applying 
 it should be by the brush : take the grease in the 
 palm of the hand, and so apply it over the sur- 
 face of the penetrating brush. By this means, 
 instead of being applied over the outer surface 
 of the hair, it reaches the roots, and is spread 
 entirely through it: giving it that glossy and 
 rich hue that contributes so much to its prepos- 
 sessing appearance. 
 
 To persons, however, whose hair is in a de- 
 clining state, the frequent and regular use of oil or 
 bear's grease, is often of much service, as it is 
 calculated to assist in supplying that nourishment 
 which is so necessary. No oil, perhaps, has ever 
 acquired a greater celebrity than Rowland's Ma- 
 cassar : for this reason, we cannot but recommend 
 it to the notice of our readers. 
 
 One of the most pernicious methods of dress- 
 184
 
 THE ELVIR. 
 
 ing the hair, at the expense of its health, is by 
 curling". This not only dries up the moisture 
 that circulates through the hairs; but the heat 
 and compression thus used completely prevent 
 proper circulation. When, however, the habit is 
 still persisted in, its ill effects may be much ob- 
 viated, by constantly brushing the hair well, and 
 having it frequently tipped or cut, by which 
 means, the necessary circulation is kept up, and 
 the roots invigorated. 
 
 185
 
 DRESSING TO ADVANTAGE. 
 
 Of late years, the art of dressing in the most 
 becoming manner, has occupied, if possible, an 
 increased attention of the votaries of high life, 
 although the glories of a Brummel, a Skiffing- 
 ham, or a Petersham, no longer exist. 
 
 The influence of dress in the appearance of 
 the male or female person, must be so self-evi- 
 dent, that all who wish to please others, or even 
 themselves, should deem it a very proper subject 
 for the exercise of their taste. To be indifferent 
 in respect to the order and arrangement of our 
 habiliments, or in other words, to be a sloven, is 
 to come at once under the severest ban of the 
 polite and civilized. 
 
 Among the ladies, in particular, I have the 
 
 temerity, perhaps, to affirm, that in studying the 
 
 art of dressing to the most becoming advantage, 
 
 however incompatible many persons may deem 
 
 186
 
 DRESSING TO ADVANTAGI^. 
 
 it with the more serious business of life, they 
 thus show much wisdom by ensuring the means 
 of pleasing the eye and taste of others. 
 
 Although, perhaps, the questionable distinctions 
 of dress that formerly used to denote the gentle- 
 man from the commoner, and he, in his turn, 
 from the plebeian, have long ceased to exist, a 
 sufficient comparison may still be made in the 
 present day, to show the immeasurable distance 
 between true gentility and vulgar assumption in 
 dress. To support this distinction, therefore, is 
 the duty incumbent especially upon the genteel 
 and well-educated part of the community. 
 
 In treating of this portion of my present un- 
 dertaking, I shall commence with the dress of 
 gentlemen. The habiliments of men, like that 
 of the ladies, in polite life, are divided into what 
 is called dress, and undress : the latter of these 
 meaning a morning dress, or dress in ordinary ; 
 and the former, the elite of decorating the per- 
 son ; and which is sometimes denominated 
 187
 
 DRESSING TO ADVANTAGE. 
 
 FULL DRESS. 
 
 This dress, in fashionable circles, is alwa)'^s 
 worn at dinner, and during- the evening ; and 
 consists of a dress coat, pantaloons, (tight or 
 loose), pumps, and silk stockings, a white cravat 
 or velvet stock, white cambric handkerchief, and 
 light kid gloves. 
 
 I shall now proceed to make a few remarks on 
 the ct ceteras of male costume, in connexion 
 with the figure, and afterwards, on the influence 
 of colours on the complexion. 
 
 THE COAT. 
 
 The most consequential portion of the dress is 
 the coat, inasmuch as the chest and the waist are 
 made, in a great degree, dependent upon its cut. 
 A coat to look to advantage should be cut to set 
 full over the breast, and according to the present 
 style of fashion, fall in broad lappels round the 
 hips. Not a crease should be discernible in the 
 back or tails, while it should fit close into the 
 188
 
 DRESSING TO ADVANTAGE. 
 
 waist, although unbuttoned. Indeed, in my own 
 humble opinion, a full-dress coat should never be 
 buttoned, as the shirt and waistcoat should 
 always be seen. Another criterion, too, that 
 should distinguish a dress coat, is the collar ; this 
 should be made loose and rolling, which has a 
 very becoming appearance; blue and black are 
 alone the colours that are used, the former of 
 which gives a much gayer and more animated 
 look to the appearance than the latter, for which 
 reason it is, perhaps, best adapted for balls. 
 
 DRESS PANTALOONS. 
 
 Dress pantaloons fashion admits but of having 
 two colours, black or white. They should be made 
 short, so as to display the foot and ancle, and cut 
 to fit close to the leg. The person is greatly in- 
 fluenced by the cut of the pantaloons: they 
 should be made to diminish the appearance of 
 both the waist and knee; which, if effected, 
 greatly tends to the symmetry of the figure ; 
 189
 
 DRESSING TO ADVANTAGE. 
 
 while, in short men, the stature is considerably 
 elongated. If pantaloons be black, they should 
 always be composed of the finest kerseymere. 
 
 THE WAISTCOAT. 
 
 With regard to the choice of waistcoats : in 
 full dress, much taste is required in this particu- 
 lar. The great object that should be sought, let 
 it be remembered, in dress, is a pleasing relief. 
 To effect this, it is requisite to avoid an appear- 
 ance of gloom in the person; consequently, 
 when a black coat and pantaloons be worn, they 
 should always be accompanied by a light-coloured 
 waistcoat: rich silk velvet, of the neat small 
 pattern, I think most becoming. To a blue coat 
 with bright buttons, a white waistcoat is, per- 
 haps, seen to best advantage. When, however, 
 a dark waistcoat be worn, it should always be 
 accompanied by a light under-waistcoat. Only 
 single-breasted waistcoats are, properly speaking, 
 full dress. 
 
 190
 
 DRESSING TO ADVANTAGE. 
 
 THE FEET. 
 
 A portion of the person much noticed in fiill 
 dre.ss, is the feet; at once, a reason why the 
 pumps we wear should occupy some care. Of 
 all the artificers employed in the manufacture of 
 men's clothing-, none have it more in their power 
 to display beauty, and conceal defects, than the 
 shoemaker, if he be expert in his business. 
 
 As a moderately small foot is a decided and 
 much-admired beauty, it is one that every one at 
 all interested in dress should endeavour to pos- 
 sess, in appearance, as much as they can. In 
 fact, a handsome pump will make the largest 
 foot look tolerably well, on the same principle 
 that ugly shoes will disfigure the prettiest feet. 
 
 Stockings or socks are commonly worn the 
 same colour as the trowsers, but may be, with 
 propriety, of gray or brown, or what is termed 
 shotted colours. White, however, should always 
 accompany the same-coloured pantaloons. 
 
 I shall next direct the attention of my readers 
 191
 
 DRESSING TO ADVANTAGE. 
 
 to the choice of a neckloth or stock. Perhaps 
 not a more striking distinction exists, than in the 
 wearing- of white and black for the throat. Dark 
 men, of bilious complexions, it must be remarked, 
 generally look wretched in the extreme, in white 
 neckcloths ; while to fair men, they are very be- 
 coming. For this reason, I cannot but recom- 
 mend the adoption of velvet or satin stocks to 
 dark complexions, as possessing a more becoming 
 superiority over the white, that a little reflection 
 at the glass must soon make evident, even to the 
 most inexperienced eye. 
 
 A great deal, it may be observed, depends 
 upon the manner in which clothes are put on ; 
 the shirt should be spotless and unrumpled ; 
 and, as I have previously observed, the coat 
 not creased. 
 
 With reference to undress, the frock-coat is 
 by far the most calculated to enhance the appear- 
 ance; especially that of good figures, as it more 
 thoroughly developes the chest, shoulders, and, 
 from being made to button, the waist. The great 
 192
 
 DRESSING TO ADVANTAGE. 
 
 art of making this description of coat lies in 
 cutting the skirts to fit well. Brown and green 
 are the most fashionable colours ; but are greatly 
 improved by the relief of a black velvet collar. 
 
 Of all portions of the male costume, however, 
 most attention, perhaps, should be directed to the 
 linen; if this be soiled, the appearance of the 
 finest dress that was ever made is instantly de- 
 stroyed: the wristbands white and even are 
 among other matters an essential distinction of a 
 gentlemanly-dressed man. With reference, how- 
 ever, to the puckered and furbelowed worked 
 fi'onts with .which most of the linen-drapers' shops 
 abound, they are grown so common and hackney- 
 ed in general use, that few men of any fashion 
 wear them now ; frills too have long been out of 
 fashion. No description of front to a shirt is 
 therefore handsomer than one in broad plain 
 plaits, fastened with plain or engine-turned gold 
 studs. 
 
 N 193
 
 DRESSING TO ADVANTAGE. 
 
 THE HAT. 
 
 The hat characterises the appearance much, 
 as the contour of the head is greatly affected by 
 it, as well as the age of the wearer ; a broad- 
 brimmed hat adds considerably in appearance to 
 the age, and tends to give a look of sedateness ; 
 and a narrow-brimmed hat has just a contrary 
 effect. The look of stature is greatly influenced 
 too by the hat: a low crown considerably de- 
 creases the height ; and a high-crown one greatly 
 adds to it. Thus much judgment is called for in 
 the choice of a hat, that perhaps only a large 
 and varied stock can sometimes offer. 
 
 The variety of their shapes, with the different 
 appearance each gives to the head, need but be 
 tried, for the justness of these remarks to be 
 fully appreciated. The hat, to look well, should 
 always have a look of newness, as no one article 
 of dress casts a greater gloom over the rest than 
 a shabby hat. 
 
 For parties and theatres, a dress or opera hat 
 194
 
 DRESSING TO ADVANTAGE. 
 
 should be worn ; by this I do not mean one of 
 the late fashioned cocked hats, but a description 
 of hat manufactured on purpose, that is made to 
 go into any space, and that may, in fact, if re- 
 quired, be put into the pocket. Caps are but 
 used for travelling-, and consequently are never 
 worn by gentlemen but for that purpose. 
 
 I shall here beg leave to close these brief re- 
 marks on gentlemen's dress, with one slight 
 piece of advice, which is, to avoid all unneces- 
 rary display and glitter; but, on the contrary, 
 rather to seek to show an elegant simplicity, that 
 while it pleases the eye is calculated to refine 
 the taste. 
 
 195
 
 FEMALE BEAUTY. 
 
 THE FEMALE FORM. 
 
 To preserve the health of the human form is 
 the first object of consideration. This is of pri- 
 mary importance, for with its health we neces- 
 sarily maintain its symmetry, and improve its 
 beauty. 
 
 The foundation of a just proportion, in all its 
 parts, must be laid in infancy ; for, " as the twig 
 is bent, the tree 's inclined." A light dress, which 
 gives freedom to the functions of life and action, 
 is the best adapted to permit unobstructed growth; 
 for thence the young fibres, uninterrupted by ob- 
 stacles of art, will shoot harmoniously into the 
 form which nature drew. The garb of childhood 
 should in all respects be easy ; not to impede its 
 movements by ligatures on the chest, the loins, 
 the legs, or the arms. By this liberty, we shall 
 see the muscles of the limbs gradually assume 
 196
 
 FEMALE BEAUTY. 
 
 the fine swell and insertion which only uncon- 
 strained exercise can produce. The shape will 
 sway gracefully on the firmly poised waist; the 
 chest will rise in noble and healthy expanse ; and 
 the human fif^ure will start forward at the bloom- 
 ing age of youth, maturing into the full perfection 
 of unsophisticated nature. 
 
 The lovely form of woman, in particular, thus 
 educated, or rather thus left to its natural bias, 
 assumes a variety of interesting characters. In 
 one youthful figure, we see the lineaments of a 
 wood-nymph ; a form slight and elastic in all its 
 parts. The shape, 
 
 " Small by degrees, and beautifully less, 
 From the soft bosom to the tender waist !" 
 
 A foot light as that of her whose flying step 
 scarcely brushed the "unbending corn;" and 
 limbs whose agile grace moved in gay harmony 
 with the turns of her swan-like neck and spark- 
 ling eyes. 
 
 Another fair one appears wnth the chastened 
 dignity of a vestal. Her proportions are of a 
 197
 
 FEMxVLE BEAUTY. 
 
 less aerial outline. As she draws near, we per- 
 ceive that the contour of her figure is on a broad- 
 er and less flexible scale than that of her more 
 ethereal sister. Euphrosyne speaks in the one, 
 Melpomene in the other. 
 
 Between these two lies the whole range of fe- 
 male character in form ; and, in proportion as the 
 figure approaches the one extreme or tlie other, 
 we call it grave or gay, majestic or graceful. 
 Not but that the same person may, by a happy 
 combination of charms, unite these qualities in 
 different degrees, as we sometimes see graceful 
 majesty and majestic grace. Unless the com- 
 manding figure softens the amplitude of its con- 
 tour with a gentle elegance, it may possess a 
 sort of regal consequence, but it will be that of a 
 heavy and harsh importance ; and, on the other 
 hand, unless the slight and airy form, full of youth 
 and animal spirits, superadds to these attractions 
 the grace of a restraining dignity, her vivacity- 
 will be deemed levity, and her activity the romp- 
 ing of a wild hoyden. 
 
 198
 
 FEMALE BEAUTY. 
 
 Young women, therefore, when they present 
 themselves to the world, must not implicitly fash- 
 ion their demeanours according to the levelling 
 rules of the generality of school-governesses ; 
 but, considering the character of their own figures, 
 allow their deportment, and select their dress, to 
 follow and correct the bias of nature. 
 
 There is a class of female contour which bears 
 such faint marks of any positive character, that 
 the best advice I can give to them who have it, 
 is to assume that of the sedate. Such an appear- 
 ance is unobtrusive ; it is amiable, and not only 
 secure from animadversion, but very likely to 
 awaken respect and love. Indeed, in all cases, 
 a modest reserve is essential to the perfection of 
 feminine attraction. 
 
 As it has been observed, that, during the period 
 of youth, different women wear a variety of cha- 
 racters, such as the gay, the grave, &c., when it 
 is found that even this loveliest season of life 
 places its subjects in varying lights, how neces- 
 sary does it seem that w^omen should carry this 
 199
 
 FE5IALE BEAUTY. 
 
 idea yet farther by analogy, and recollect that 
 she-has a summer £ts well as a spring, an autumn, 
 and a winter ! As the aspect of the earth alters 
 with the changes of the year, so does the appear- 
 ance of a woman adapt itself to the time which 
 passes over her. Like the rose, she buds, she 
 blooms, she fades, she dies ! 
 
 When the freshness of virgin youth vanishes 
 —when Delia passes her teens, and approaches 
 her thirtieth year, she may then consider her day 
 as at the meridian ; but the sun which shines so 
 brightly on her beauties, declines while it displays 
 them. A few short years, and the jocund step, 
 the airy habit, the sportive manner, must all be 
 exchanged for " faltering steps and slow." Before 
 this happens, it would be well for her to remem- 
 ber tliat it is wiser to throw a shadow over her 
 yet unimpaired charms, than to hold them in the 
 light till they are seen to decay. 
 
 Each age has an appropriate style of figure 
 and pleasing ; and it is the business of discern- 
 200
 
 FEMALE BEAUTY. 
 
 nient and taste to discover and maintain those 
 advantages in their due seasons. 
 
 The general characteristics of youth, are meek 
 dignity, chastened sportiveness, and gentle se- 
 riousness. Middle age has the privilege of pre- 
 serving, unaltered, the graceful majesty and 
 tender gravity which have marked its earlier 
 years. But the gay manners of the comic muse 
 must, in the advance of life, be discreetly soften- 
 ed down into little more than cheerful amenity. 
 Time marches on, and another change takes 
 place. Amiable as the former characteristics may 
 be, they must give w^ay to the sober, the venera- 
 ble aspect with which age, experience, and "a 
 soul commercing with the skies," ought to adorn 
 the silver hairs of the Christian matron. 
 
 Nature having maintained a harmony between 
 the figure of woman and her years, it is decorous 
 that the consistency should extend to the mate- 
 rials and fashion of her apparel. For youth to 
 dress like age, is an instance of bad taste seldom 
 seen. But age, affecting the airy garments of 
 201
 
 FEMALE BEAUTY. 
 
 youth, tbe transparent drapery of Cos, and the 
 sportiveness of a girl, is an anachronism as fre- 
 quent as it is ridiculous. 
 
 Virgin, bridal Beauty, when she arrays herself 
 with taste, obeys an end of her creation — that of 
 increasing her charms in the eyes of some virtu- 
 ous lover, or the husband of her bosom. She is 
 approved. But when the wrinkled fair, the hoary- 
 headed matron, attempts to equip herself for con- 
 quest, to awaken sentiments which, when the 
 bloom on her cheek has disappeared, her rouge 
 can never recall ; and, despite of all her efforts, 
 we can perceive '* memento mori'^ written on her 
 face, then we cannot but deride her folly, or, in 
 pity, counsel her rather to seek for charms, the 
 mental graces of Madame de Sevigne, than the 
 meretricious arts of Ninon de I'Enclos. 
 
 But that, in some cases, wrinkles may be long 
 warded off, and auburn locks preserve a length- 
 ened freshness, is not to be denied ; and, where 
 nature prolongs the youth of a Helen or a Sarah, 
 'A is not for man to see her otherwise. These are 
 202
 
 FEJIALE BEA.UT1 
 
 rare instances ; and, in the minds of rational wo- 
 men, ought rather to excite wonder, than desire 
 to emulate their extended reiofn. But what ought 
 to be, we know is not always adopted. St. Evre- 
 mond has told us, that " a woman's last sighs are 
 for her beauty ;" and what this wit has advanced, 
 the sex has ever been too ready to confirm. A 
 strange kind of art, a sort of sorcery, is prescribed 
 by tradition, and in books, in the form of cosmet- 
 ics, &-C., to preserve female charms in perpetual 
 youth. But I fear that, until these composts can 
 be concocted in Medea's caldron, they will never 
 have any better effect than exercising the faith 
 and patience of the credulous dupes, who expect 
 to find the elixir vitcB in any mixture under 
 heaven. 
 
 The rules which I would lay down for the pre- 
 servation of the bloom of beauty, durmg its na- 
 tural life, are few, and easy of access. And, 
 besides having the advantage of speaking from 
 very wide and minute observation, I have the 
 203
 
 FEMALE BEAUTY. 
 
 authorities of the most eminent physicians of every 
 age, to support my argument. 
 
 The secret of preserving beauty lies in three 
 things, — temperance, exercise, and cleanliness. 
 From these few heads, I hope much good instruc- 
 tion may be deduced. Temperance includes 
 moderation at table, and in the enjoyment of what 
 the world calls pleasure. A young beauty, were 
 she fair as Hebe, and elegant as the Goddess of 
 Love herself, would soon lose these charms by 
 a course of inordinate eating, drinking, and late 
 hours. 
 
 I guess that my delicate young readers will 
 start at this last sentence, and wonder how it can 
 be that any well-bred person should think it pos- 
 sible that pretty young ladies could be guilty of 
 either of the two first-mentioned excesses. But, 
 when I speak of inordinate eating, fcc, I do not 
 mean feasting like a glutton, or drinking to in- 
 toxication. My objection is not more against the 
 quantity than the quality of the dishes which 
 constitute the usual repasts of women of fashion. 
 204
 
 FEMALE BEAUTY. 
 
 Their breakfasts not only set forth tea and coffee, 
 but chocolate, and hot bread and butter. Both 
 of these latter articles, when taken constantly, 
 are hostile to health and female delicacy. The 
 heated grease, which is their principal ingredient, 
 deranges the stomach ; and, by creating or in- 
 creasing bilious disorders, gradually overspreads 
 the fair skin with a wan or yellow hue. After 
 this meal, a long and exhausting fast not unfre- 
 quently succeeds, from ten in the morning till 
 three in the evening, when dinner is served up; 
 and the half-famished beauty sits down to sate a 
 keen appetite with Cayenne soups, fish, French 
 patees steaming with garlic, roast and boiled meat, 
 game, tarts, sweet-meats, ices, fruits, &c. &.c. &c. 
 How must the constitution suffer under the diges- 
 tion of this melange ! How does the heated 
 complexion bear witness to the combustion with- 
 in ! And, when we consider that the beverage 
 she takes to dilute this mass of food, and assuage 
 the consequent fever in her stomach, is not merely 
 water from the spring, but champagne, madeira, 
 205
 
 FEMALE BEAUTY. 
 
 and other wines, foreign and domestic, you can- 
 not wonder that I should warn the inexperienced 
 creature against intemperance. The superabun- 
 dance of aliment which she takes in at this time, 
 is not only destructive of beauty, but the period 
 of such repletion is full of other dangers. Long 
 fasting wastes the powers of digestion, and weak- 
 ens the springs of life. In this enfeebled state, 
 at the hour when nature intends we should pre- 
 pare for general repose, we put our stomach and 
 animal spirits to extraordinary exertion. Our 
 vital functions are overtasked and overloaded ; — 
 we become hectic — for observation strongly de- 
 clares that invalid and delicate persons should 
 rarely eat solids after three o'clock in the day, as 
 fever is generally the consequence; and thus, al- 
 most every complaint that distresses and destroys 
 the human frame, may be engendered. 
 
 *' When hunger calls, obey ; nor often wait 
 Till hunger sharpen to corrosive pain ; 
 For the keen appetite will feast beyond 
 What nature well can bear ; and one extreme 
 Ne'er without danger meets its own reverse." 
 
 296
 
 FEMALE BEAUTY. 
 
 Besides, when we add to this evil the present 
 mode of bracing* the digestive part of the body, 
 in what is called long stays, to what an extent 
 must reach the baneful effects of a protracted and 
 abundant repast 1 Indeed, lam fully persuaded 
 tliat long fasting, late dining, and the excessive 
 repletion then taken into the exhausted stomach, 
 with the tight pressure of steel and wlialebone 
 on the most susceptible parts of the frame then 
 called into action, and the midnight, nay, morning 
 hours, of lingering pleasure, are tlie positive 
 causes of colds taken, bilious fevers, consumptions, 
 and atrophies. By the means enumerated, the 
 firm texture of the constitution is broken, and the 
 principles of health being in a manner decom- 
 posed, the finest parts fly off, and the dregs main- 
 tain the poor survivor of herself, in a sad kind of 
 artificial existence. Delicate proportion gives 
 place either to miserable leanness or shapeless fat. 
 The once fair skin assumes a pallid rigidity, or a 
 bloated redness, which the vain possessor would 
 still regard as the roses of health and beauty. 
 207
 
 FEMALE BEAUTY. 
 
 To repair these ravag-es, comes the aid of pad- 
 ding, to give shape where there is none ; long 
 stays, to compress into form the chaos of flesh ; 
 and paints of all hues, to rectify the disorder of 
 the complexion. But useless are these attempts. 
 If dissipation, disease, and immoderation, have 
 wrecked the fair vessel of female charms, it is 
 not in the power of Esculapius himself to refit 
 the shattered bark ; or of the Syrens, with all 
 their songs and wiles, to conjure its battered sides 
 from the rocks, and make it ride the seas in gal- 
 lant trim again. 
 
 It is with pleasure that I turn from this ruin 
 of all that is beauteous and lovely, to the cheer- 
 ing hope of preserving every charm unimpaired ; 
 and by means which the most ingenuous mind 
 need not blush to acknowledge. 
 
 The rules, I repeat, are few. First, Temper- 
 ance : a well-timed use of the table, and so mo- 
 derate a pursuit of pleasure, that the midnight 
 ball, assembly, and theatre, shall not too fre- 
 quently recur. 
 
 208
 
 FEMALE BEAUTY. 
 
 . My next specific, is that of gentle and daily 
 Exercise in the open air. Nature teaches us, in 
 the gambols and sportiveness of the young of the 
 lower animals, that bodily exertion is necessary 
 for the growth, vigour, and symmetry of the ani- 
 mal frame ; while the too studious scholar, and 
 the indolent man of luxury, exhibit in themselves 
 the pernicious consequences of the want of 
 exercise. 
 
 This may be almost always obtained, either on 
 horseback or on foot, in fine weather ; and when 
 that is denied, in a carriage. Country air in the 
 fields, or in gardens, when breathed at proper 
 hours, is an excellent bracer of the nerves, and 
 a sure brightener of the complexion. But these 
 hours are neither under the mid-day sun in sum- 
 mer, when its beams scorch the skin and ferment 
 the blood ; nor beneath the dews of evening, 
 when the imperceptible damps, saturating the 
 thinly-clad body, send the wanderer home infect- 
 ed with the disease that is to lay her, ere a re- 
 turning spring, m the silent tomb ! Both these 
 o 209
 
 FEMALE BEAUTY. 
 
 periods are pregnant with danger to delicacy and 
 carelessness. 
 
 The morning, about two or three hours after 
 sunrise, is the most salubrious time for a vigorous 
 walk. But, as the day advances, if you choose 
 to prolong the sweet enjoyment of the open air, 
 then the thick wood or shady lane will afford re- 
 freshing shelter from the too-intense heat of the 
 sun. In short, the morning and evening dew, 
 and the unrepelled blaze of a summer noon, must 
 alike be ever avoided as the enemies of health 
 and beauty. 
 
 ' Fly, if you can, these violent extremes 
 Of uir; the wholesome is nor moist nor dry." 
 
 Armstrong. 
 
 Cleanliness, my last recipe, (and which is, like 
 the others, applicable to all ages,) is of most 
 powerful efficacy. It maintains the limbs in 
 their pliancy, the skin in its softness, the com- 
 plexion in its lustre, the eyes in their brightness, 
 the teeth in their purity, and the constitution in 
 its fairest vigour. To promote cleanliness, I can 
 recommend nothing preferable to bathing. 
 210
 
 FEMALE BEAUTY. 
 
 The frequent use of tepid baths is not more 
 grateful to the sense than it is salutary to the 
 health, and to beauty. By such ablution, all ac- 
 cidental corporeal impurities are thrown off; cuta- 
 neous obstructions removed ; and while the sur- 
 face of the body is preserved in its original 
 brightness, many threatening disorders are re- 
 moved or prevented. Colds in the young, and 
 rheumatic and paralytic affections in the old, are 
 all dispersed by this simple and delightful anti- 
 dote. By such means the women of the East 
 render their skins softer than that of the tender- 
 est babes in this climate, and preserve that health 
 which sedentary confinement would otherwise 
 destroy. 
 
 This delightful and delicate Oriental fashion 
 is now, I am happy to say, prevalent almost all 
 over the country. 
 
 It may be remarked en passant, that rubbing 
 of the skin in the bath is an excellent substitute 
 for exercise, when that is impracticable out-of- 
 doors. 
 
 211
 
 FEMA.LE BEAUTY. 
 
 I must not conclude these observations without 
 offering my fair readers a few remarks on the 
 malignant influence exercised on the features by 
 an ill-regulated temper. The face is the index 
 of the mind. On its expressive page are recorded 
 in characters lasting as life itself, the gloom of 
 sullenness, the arrogance of pride, the withering 
 of envy, or the storm of anger ; for, even after 
 the fury of the tempest has subsided, its fearful 
 devastations remain behind. 
 
 " From anger she may then be freed, 
 But peevishness and spleen succeed." 
 
 The first emotions of anger are apparent to the 
 most superficial observer. Every indulgence in 
 its paroxysms, both adds strength to its authority, 
 and engraves its history in deeper relief on the 
 forehead of its votaries. What a pity it is that 
 antiquity provides us with no authentic portrait 
 of the illustrious Xantippe ! for I am sure the 
 features of that lady would lend their ready testi- 
 mony to the value of my admonitions. 
 212
 
 FEMALE BEAUTY. 
 
 When good-humour and vivacity reign within, 
 the face is lighted up with benignant smiles; 
 where peace and gentleness are the tenants of 
 the bosom, the countenance beams with mildness 
 and complacency. Evil temper has, with truth, 
 been called a more terrible enemy to beauty than 
 the small-pox. I beseech you, therefore, as you 
 value the preservation of your charms, to resist 
 the dominion of this rude despoiler, to foster and 
 encourage the feelings of kindliness and good- 
 humour, and to repress every emotion of a con- 
 trary character. 
 
 I shall conclude this important subject by re- 
 marking with the Spectator, that " no woman can 
 be handsome by the force of features alone, any 
 more than she can be witty only by the gift of 
 speech." 
 
 213
 
 THE DRESS OF LADIES. 
 
 Elegant dressing- is not found in expense; 
 money without judg-ment may load, but never 
 can adorn. You may show profusion without 
 grace : you may cover a neck with pearls, a head 
 with jewels, hands and arms with rings, brace- 
 lets, and trinkets, and yet produce no eiTect, but 
 having emptied some merchant's counter upon 
 your person. The best chosen dress is that which 
 so harmonizes with the figure as to make the rai- 
 ment pass unobserved. The result of the finest 
 toilet should be an elegant woman, not an ele- 
 gantly dressed woman. Where a perfect whole 
 is intended, it is a sign of defect in the execution, 
 when the details first present themselves to ob- 
 servation. 
 
 In short, the secret of dressing lies in simpli- 
 city, and a certain adaptation to your figure, your 
 rank, your circumstances. To dress well on these 
 214
 
 DRESS OF LADIES. 
 
 principles — and they are the only just ones — does 
 not require that extravagant attention to so trivial 
 an object, as is usually exhibited by persons who 
 make the toilet a study. When ladies place the 
 spell of their attraction in their clothes, we gene- 
 rally see them arrayed in robes of a thousand 
 makes and dyes, and curiously constructed of 
 materials brought from, heaven knows where. 
 Thus, much time, thought and wealth, are wasted 
 on a comparatively worthless object. To lavish 
 many of the precious hours of life in the inven- 
 tion and arrangement of dress, is as criminal an 
 offence as to exhaust tlie finances of your hus- 
 band or parents by a thriftless expenditure on its 
 component parts. 
 
 The taste I wish to inculcate, is that nicely- 
 poised estimation of things, which shows it 
 "worth our while to do vjelU what it is ever 
 worth our while to do.^'' This disposition origin- 
 ates in a correct and delicate mind, and forms 
 a judgment which makes elegance inseparable 
 from propriety ; and extending itself from great 
 215
 
 DRESS OF LADIES. 
 
 objects to small, reaches the most apparently in- 
 significant; and thus, even in the change of the 
 morning and evening attire, displays to the con- 
 siderate observer a very intelligible index of the 
 wearer's v^^ell-regulated mind. 
 
 " Show^ me a lady's dressing-room," says a cer- 
 tain writer, " and I will tell you what manner of 
 woman she is." Chesterfield, also, is of opinion, 
 that a sympathy goes through every action of our 
 lives: he declares, that he could not help con- 
 ceiving some idea of people's sense and character 
 from the dress in which they appeared when in- 
 troduced to him. He was so great an advocate 
 for pleasing externals, that he often said, he 
 would rather see a young person too much, than 
 too little dressed, excess, on the foppish side, 
 wearing off with time and reflection ; but if a 
 youth be negligent at twenty, it is probable he 
 will be a sloven at forty, and disgustingly dirty 
 at fifty. However this may be with the other 
 sex, I beg leave to observe, that I never yet met 
 with a woman whose general style of dress was 
 216 
 
 _.___.._.____..._____..____... J
 
 DRESS OF LADIES. 
 
 chaste, elegant, and appropriate, that I did not 
 find, on further acquaintance, to be, in disposition 
 and mind, an object to admire and love. 
 
 This correspondence between the thoughts 
 and the raiment being established, what was be- 
 fore insignificant becomes of consequence ; and, 
 being rightly understood, good sense will be as 
 careful not to disparage her discreiion, by extra- 
 vagant dress, as she would to evince a sordid mind, 
 by dirt and rags. 
 
 I think I see you, my friends, smile, incredu- 
 lous, at the last sentence. What gentlewoman, 
 you exclaim, who is above the most abject pecu- 
 niary embarrassments, can ever have a chance of 
 being so apparelled ? A desire of singularity is 
 a sufiicient answer. There is a race of women, 
 who, priding themselves on their superior rank, 
 or wealth, or talents, affect to despise what they 
 deem the adventitious aids of dress. Their ap- 
 pearance, in consequence, is frequently as ridi- 
 culous as disgusting. When this folly is seen in 
 female authors, or, what is much the same thing, 
 217
 
 DRESS OF LADIES. 
 
 ladies professing a particularly literary taste, we 
 can at once trace its motive, — a conceited negli- 
 gence of outward attractions, and a determination 
 to raise themselves in the opinions of men, by 
 displaying a contempt for what they deem the 
 vain occupations of meaner souls. Wishing to 
 be thought superior to founding any regard on 
 external ornament, they forget external decency ; 
 and by slatternness and affectation, render what 
 is called a learned woman, a kind of scare-crow 
 to her own sex, and a laughing-stock to the other. 
 This error is not so common now with bookish 
 ladies as it was in the beginning of the last cen- 
 tury. Then the sex did, indeed, show that "a 
 little learning is a dangerous thing." They did 
 not imbibe sufficient to imbue them with a sense 
 of its real properties, to show them causes and 
 effects, to make them understand themsejves, and 
 close the book in humility. They, poor short- 
 sighted creatures ! exchanged the innocent igno- 
 rance of Eve for the empoisoned apple, which, 
 under tiie cheat of displaying knowledge, fills 
 218
 
 DRESS OF LADIES. 
 
 the eater with a vain self-conceit, while it more 
 openly exposes her mental nakedness to every 
 eye. 
 
 The absurdity of their deductions is so obvious, 
 that one wonders how any woman could fall into 
 such aa error. Who among them but would think 
 it the heig-ht of folly to place over the door of a 
 museum, to which the proprietor wished to attract 
 visitors, the effigy of a monster, so disgusting as 
 to deter men from entering to see what might 
 otherwise have afforded them much pleasure 1 
 Such effigies might the slip-shod muses of the 
 days, of Anne have given of themselves ; but most 
 of the modern female votaries of Minerva, aware 
 of the advantages of a prepossessing appearance, 
 mingle with their incense to the Goddess a few 
 flowers to the Paphian Graces; and, that they 
 gain by the devotion, none who have been admit- 
 ted to the acquaintance of our Sapphos and Co- 
 rinnas, can deny. 
 
 A woman of principle and prudence must be 
 consistent in the style and quality of her attire; 
 219
 
 Dress of ladies. 
 
 she must be careful that her expenditure does 
 not exceed the limits of her allowance ; she must 
 be aware, that it is not the girl who lavishes the 
 most money on her apparel that is the best ar- 
 rayed. Frequent instances have I known, where 
 young women, with a little good taste, ingenuity, 
 and economy, have maintained a much better ap- 
 pearance than ladies of three times their fortune. 
 No treasury is large enough to supply indiscrimi- 
 nate profusion; and scarcely any purse is too 
 scanty for the uses of life, when managed by a 
 careful hand. Few are the situations in which a 
 woman can be placed, whether she be married 
 or single, where some attention to thrift is not 
 expected. High rank requires adequate means 
 to support its consequence — ostentatious wealth, 
 a superabundance to maintain its domineering 
 pretensions ; and the middle class, when virtue is 
 its companion, looks to economy to allow it to 
 throw its mite into the lap of charity. 
 
 Hence we see, that hardly any woman, how- 
 ever related, can have a right to independent, 
 220
 
 DRESS OF LADIES; 
 
 uncontrolled expenditure ; and that, to do her 
 duty in every sense of the word, she must learn 
 to understand and exercise the graces of econo- 
 my. This quality will be a gem in her husband's 
 eyes; for, though most of the money-getting sex 
 like to see their wives well dressed, yet, trust 
 me, my fair friends, they would rather owe that 
 pleasure to your taste than to their pockets ! 
 
 Costliness being, then, no essential principle in 
 real elegance, I shall proceed to give you a few 
 hints on what are the distinguishing circumstances 
 of a well-ordered toilet. 
 
 As the beauty of form and complexion is differ- 
 ent in different women, and is still more varied, 
 according to the ages of the fair subjects of in- 
 vestigation ; so the styles in dress, while simpli- 
 city is the soul of all, must assume a character 
 corresponding with the wearer. 
 
 The seasons of life should be arrayed like 
 
 those of the year. In the spring of youth, when 
 
 all is lovely and gay, then, as the soft green, 
 
 sparkling in freshness, bedecks the earth ; so, . 
 
 221
 
 DRESS OF LADIES. 
 
 light and transparent robes, of tender colours, 
 should adorn the limbs of the young beauty. If 
 she be of the Hebe form, warm weather should 
 find her veiled in fine muslin, lawn, gauzes, and 
 other lucid materials. To suit the character of 
 her figure, and to accord with the prevailing 
 mode and just taste together, her morning robes 
 should be of a length sufficiently circumscribed 
 as not to impede her walking ; but on no account 
 must they be too short ; for, when any design is 
 betrayed of showing the foot or ankle, the idea 
 of beauty is lost in that of the wearer's odious 
 indelicacy. On the reverse, when no show of 
 vanity is apparent in the dress — when the lightly- 
 flowing drapery, by unsought accident, discovers 
 the pretty buskined foot or taper ankle, a sense 
 of virgin timidity, and of exquisite loveliness to- 
 gether, strikes upon the senses ; and Admiration, 
 with a tender sigh, softly whispers, " The most 
 resistless charm Is modesty !" 
 
 In Thomson's exquisite portrait of Lavinia, the 
 prominent feature is modesty. " She was beauty's 
 222
 
 DRESS OF LADIES. 
 
 self," indeed, but then she was " thoughtless of 
 beauty ;" and though her eyes were sparkling, 
 " bashful modesty" directed them 
 
 "Still on the ground dejected, darting all 
 Their humid beams into the blooming flowers." 
 
 The morning robe should cover the arms and 
 the bosom, nay, even the neck. And if it be 
 made tight to the shape, every symmetrical line 
 is discovered with a grace so decent, that vestals, 
 without a blush, might adopt the chaste apparel. 
 This simple garb leaves to beauty all her empire ; 
 no furbelows, no heavy ornaments, load the figure, 
 warp the outlines, and distract the attention. 
 All is light, easy, and elegant; and the lovely 
 wearer, " with her glossy ringlets loosely bound," 
 moves with the zephyrs on the airy wing of youth 
 and innocence. 
 
 Her summer evening dress may be of a still 
 more gossamer texture ; but it must still preserve 
 the same simplicity, though its gracefully-diverg- 
 ing folds may fall like the mantle of Juno, in 
 223
 
 DRESS OF LADIES. 
 
 clustering drapery about her steps. There they 
 should meet the white slipper 
 
 " — of the fairy foot, 
 Which shines like snow, and falls on earth as mute." 
 
 In this dress, her arms, and part of her neck and 
 bosom, may be unveiled ; but only part. The 
 eye of maternal decorum should draw the virgin 
 zone to the limit where modesty would bid it rest. 
 
 Where beauty is, ornaments are unnecessary ; 
 and where it is not, they are unavailing. But as 
 gems and flowers are handsome in themselves, 
 and when tastefully disposed doubly so, a beauti- 
 ful young woman, if she chooses to share her 
 empire with the jeweller and the florist, may, not 
 inelegantly, decorate her neck, arms, and head, 
 with a string of pearls and a band of flowers. 
 
 Female youth, of airy forms and fair complex- 
 ions, ought to reject, as too heavy for their style 
 of figure, the use of gems. Their ornaments 
 should hardly ever exceed the natural or imitated 
 flowers of the most delicate tribes. The snow- 
 drop, lily of the valley, violet, primrose, myrtle, 
 224
 
 DRESS OF LADIES. 
 
 Provence rose, — these and their resemblances, 
 are embellishments which harmonize with their 
 gaiety and blowning years. The colours of their 
 garments, when not white, should be the most 
 tender shades of green, yellow, pink, blue, and 
 lilac. These, when judiciously selected, or min- 
 gled, array the graceful wearer, like another Iris, 
 breathing youth and loveliness. 
 
 Should a young woman, of majestic character, 
 enquire for appropriate apparel, she will find it to 
 correspond with her graver and more dignified 
 mien. Her robes should always be long and 
 flowing, and more ample in their folds than those 
 of her gayer sister. Their substance should also 
 be thicker, and of a soberer colour. White is 
 becoming to all characters, and not less so to Juno 
 than to Venus ; but when colours are to be worn, 
 I recommend to the lady of majestic deportment, 
 to choose the fuller shades of yellow, purple, 
 crimson, scarlet, black, and gray. The materials 
 of her dress in summer, cambrics, muslins, sar- 
 cenets ; in winter, satins, velvets, broadcloth, &c. 
 p 225
 
 DRESS OF LADIES. 
 
 Her ornaments should be embroidery of gold, sil- 
 ver, and precious stones, with fillets and diadems 
 of jewels, and waving plumes. 
 
 The materials for the winter dresses of majes- 
 tic forms, and lightly-graceful ones, may be of 
 nearly similar texture, only differing, when made 
 up, in amplitude and abundance of drapery. 
 Satin, Genoa velvet, Indian silks, and kerseymere, 
 may all be fashioned into as becoming an apparel 
 for the slender figure as for the more embonpoint ; 
 and the warmth they afford is highly needful to 
 preserve health during the cold and damps of 
 winter. When it is so universally acknowledged, 
 the indispensable necessity of keeping the body 
 in a just temperature between heat and cold, 1 
 cannot but be astonished at the little attention 
 that is paid to so momentous a subject by the peo- 
 ple of this climate. I wonder that a sense of 
 personal comfort, aided by the well-founded con- 
 viction that health is the only preservative of 
 beauty, and lengthener of youth, does not 
 226
 
 DRESS OF LADIES. 
 
 impel women to prefer utility before the absurd 
 whims of an unreasonable fashion. 
 
 To wear gossamer dresses, with bare necks 
 and naked arms, in a hard frost, has been the 
 mode in this country, and unless a principle is 
 made against it, may be so again, to the utter 
 wretchedness of them, who, so arraying their 
 youth, lay themselves open to the untimely ra- 
 vages of rheumatisms, palsies, consumptions, and 
 death. 
 
 While fine taste, as well as fashion, decrees 
 that the beautiful outline of a well-proportioned 
 form shall be seen in the contour of a nicely- 
 adapted dress, the divisions of that dress must be 
 few and simple. But, though the hoop and quilt- 
 ed petticoat are no longer suffered to shroud in 
 hideous obscurity one of the loveliest works in 
 nature, yet all intermediate covering is not to be 
 banished. Modesty, on one hand, and Health, on 
 the other, still maintain the law of " fold on fold.' 
 
 Having laid it down as a general principle, 
 that the fashion of the raiment must correspond 
 227
 
 DRESS OF LADIES. 
 
 with that of the figure, and that every sort of 
 woman will not look equally well in the same 
 style of apparel, it will not be difficult to make 
 you understMid, that a handsome person may 
 make a freer use of fancy in her ornaments than 
 an ordinary one. Beauty gives effect to all 
 things ; it is the universal embellisher, the setting 
 which makes common crystal shine as diamonds. 
 In short, fashion does not adorn beauty, but beauty 
 fashion. Hence, I must warn Delia, that if she 
 be not cast in so perfect a mould as Celia, she 
 must not flatter herself that she can supply the 
 deficiency by gayer or more sumptuous attire. 
 Whims in dress may possibly pass with her, who, 
 " in Parisian mode, or Indian guise, is still the 
 fairest fair !" But caprices of this sort, in a plain 
 woman, only render her defects more conspicu- 
 ous ; and she, who might have been regarded as 
 a very pleasing girl, in an unobtrusive robe of 
 simple elegance, is ridiculed and despised when 
 descried in the inappropriate plumage of fancy 
 and decoration. 
 
 228
 
 DllESS OF LADIES. 
 
 Many men, while listening to the conversation 
 of an ordinary, but sensible young- woman, would 
 never see that her hair was harsh, and of a bad 
 colour, were it not interwoven with a wreath of 
 roses. They would not perceive the brownness 
 and want of symmetry in her bosom, did not the 
 eparkling' necklace attract their eye to the spot. 
 Neither would it strike them that her hands were 
 coarse and red, did not the pearl bracelets and 
 circles of ring's tell them that she meant they 
 should vie with Celia's rose-tipped fingers. 
 
 As I recommend a restrained and quiet mode 
 of dress to plain women, so, in g-radation as the 
 lovely of my sex advance towards the vale of 
 years, I counsel them to assume a graver habit 
 and a less vivacious air. Cheerfulness is becom- 
 ing to all times of life, but sportiveness belongs 
 to youth alone; and when the meridian or the 
 decline of our days affects it, is ever heavy and 
 out of place. 
 
 Let me show you, my fair friends, by conduct- 
 ing you into the Pantheon of ancient Rome, the 
 229
 
 DRESS OF LADIES. 
 
 images of yourselves at the different stages of 
 your lives. First, behold that lovely Hebe ; her 
 robes are like the air, her motion is on the zephyr's 
 wing: that you may be till you are twenty. 
 Then comes the beautiful Diana. The chaste 
 dignity of the pure intelligence within pervades 
 the whole form, and the very drapery which en- 
 folds it harmonizes with the modest elegance, the 
 buoyant health, which gives elasticity and grace 
 to every limb: here, then, you see yourselves 
 from twenty to thirty. At that majestic age, 
 when the woman of mind looks round upon the 
 world ; back on the events which have passed, 
 and calmly forward to those which may be to 
 come ; all within ought to be settled on the firm 
 basis of religion and sound judgment; and eitlier 
 as a Juno or a Minerva, she stands forth in the 
 power of beauty and of wisdom. At this period 
 she lays aside the flowers of youth, and arrays 
 herself in the majesty of sobriety, or in the gran- 
 deur of simple magnificence.
 
 DRESS OF LADIES. 
 
 Contxadictory as the two last terms may at first 
 appear, they are consistent ; and a glance on the 
 works of Pliidias, and of his best imitators, will 
 sufficiently prove their beautiful union. Long is 
 the reign of this commanding epoch of woman's 
 age ; for from thirty to fifty she may most respect- 
 ably maintain her station on this throne of matron 
 excellence. But at that period, when she has 
 numbered half a century, then it becomes her to 
 throw aside " the wimple and the crisping iron, 
 the ornament of silver, and the ornament of gold," 
 and gracefully acknowledging her entrance into 
 the vale of years, to wrap herself in her mantle 
 of gray, and move gently down till she passes 
 through its extremest bourne to the mansions of 
 immortality. 
 
 Ah ! who is there amongst us, who, having once 
 viewed the reality of this picture, would exchange 
 such blessed relinquishment of the world and all 
 its vanities, for the bolstered back, enamelled 
 cheek, and be-wigged head of a modern old 
 231
 
 DRESS OF LADIES. 
 
 woman, just trembling on the verge of the grave, 
 and yet a candidate for the flattery of men ? 
 
 It has been most wisely said, (and it would be 
 well if the waning queens of beauty would adopt 
 the reflection,) that there is a time for every 
 thing ! We may add, that there is a time to be 
 young, a time to be old ; a time to be loved, a 
 time to be revered ; a time to seek life, and a 
 time to be ready to lay it down. 
 
 She who best knows how to fashion herself to 
 these inevitable changes, is the only truly, only 
 lastingly fair. Her beauty is in the mind, and 
 shown in action: and when men cease to admire 
 the woman, they do better, they revere the saint. 
 232
 
 THE DETAIL OF FEMALE DRESS. 
 
 There are few things in which the female sex 
 can discover more taste than in the choice of the 
 apparel which may best accord with their several 
 styles of figures and features; but we frequently 
 see the direct opposite of good judgment in their 
 selections, and behold between the person and 
 tlie attire a complete and laughable incongruity. 
 
 Some women will actually disguise and dis- 
 figure themselves, rather than not appear in the 
 prevailing fashion, which, though advantageous 
 to one character of face, may have the direct 
 contrary effect with another. 
 
 If Daphne have the features of a Siddons, and 
 Amaryllis those of a Jordan, the style which 
 agrees with the one must ill accord with the 
 other. The like harmony must be maintained 
 between the complexion and the colours we 
 wear; for it is in these minutiae, which, like the 
 233
 
 DETAIL OF FEMALE DRESS. 
 
 nice and almost imperceptible touches of the in- 
 genious artist, produce a complete and faultless 
 whole. That a handsome woman may disfigure 
 herself by an injudicious choice or disposition of 
 her attire ; and a plain one counteract the errors 
 of nature, so as to render herself at least agree- 
 able, almost every experienced observer has wit- 
 nessed. We may therefore conclude, that beauty 
 with a bad taste is far less desirable than a good 
 taste without beauty. 
 
 " What an awkward creature is that !" said a 
 gentleman to me the other evening at a supper, 
 and pointing to a slatternly beauty who sat oppo- 
 site, with her chin nearly reposing on her bosom, 
 and her shoulders drawn up almost to her ears. 
 " Yonder is a very elenfint woman !" observed 
 he, directing my attention to a lady, who, critic- 
 ally considered, was rather ordinary ; hut by her 
 judicious style of dress, her unstudied graces of 
 deportment, claimed universal admiration. 
 
 To support my arguments with those of a lady 
 whose taste is best evinced by her own personal 
 234
 
 DETAIL OF FEMALE DRESS. 
 
 elegance, I shall ^ive you a short extract from a 
 little tract of hers, which, like the divine Psyche 
 of Mrs. Tighe, has been only permitted to meet 
 the eyes of a favoured few. 
 
 " Who is there among us that has not witness- 
 ed a beautiful woman so apparelled as to render 
 her rather an object of pity and ridicule than of 
 admiration'? How often do we see simplicity 
 and youthful loveliness obscured by a redundancy 
 of ornaments ! How often do the robust and 
 healthy, the majestic and the gay, the pensive 
 and the sportive, follow the same mode ; marring, 
 mingling, and mangling without mercy, and 
 witliout taste ; regardless of discrimination, appro- 
 priation, or judgment ; to the total overthrow of 
 the attractions which nature liberally bestowed ! 
 Do not these ladies perceive that each style of 
 personal beauty has a distinct character to sup- 
 port 7 That a tasteful adaptation will enforce 
 the stamp which nature has impressed ] Let us 
 then admonish the female whose beauty is of the 
 fair, pale, and interesting capt, not to render her 
 235
 
 DETAIL OF FEMALE DRESS. 
 
 appearance insipid by the overpowering hues of 
 robes, mantles, pelisses, &-c., of amber, orange, 
 grass-green, crimson, or rose-colour. This soft 
 style of beauty makes its appeal to our most deli- 
 cate perceptions; all grossness of colour dis- 
 pleases them ; and therefore should not be admit- 
 ted in the articles of her dress. 
 
 "Grass-green, though a colour exceedingly 
 pleasing and refreshing in itself, jaundices the 
 complexion of the pale woman to such a degree 
 as to excite little other sensations in the beholder 
 than compassion for the poor invalid. Such fe- 
 males should, in general, choose their robes of an 
 entire colour; and when they wear white gar- 
 ments, they should animate them with draperies, 
 mantles, scarfs, ribbons, &c. of pale-pink, blos- 
 eom-colour, celestial blue, lilac, dove-colour, and 
 primrose ; leaving full green, deep blue, and pur- 
 ple, to the florid ; and amber, scarlet, orange, 
 flame-colour," and deep rose, to the brunette. 
 
 "Thus much we offer in the suitable appro- 
 priations of colours. We shall now proceed to 
 236
 
 DETAIL OF FEMALE DRESS. 
 
 say something- on the prevailing fashions of the 
 day; and though we may fairly congratulate our 
 countrywomen on their taste and improvement 
 in this particular, yet here also the regulating 
 hand of judgment, the nice and discriminating 
 effects of genius, and the directing influence of a 
 delicate and just taste, become most importantly 
 necessary. 
 
 "The mantle, or cottage-cloak, should never 
 be worn by females exceeding a moderate embon- 
 point ; and we should recommend their winter 
 garbs, such as Russian pelisses and Turkish wraps, 
 to be formed of double sarcenet or fine Merino 
 cloth, rather than velvets, which (except black) 
 give an appearance of increased size to the 
 wearer. In the adoption of furs, flat-ermine, or 
 fringe fur, is better suited to the full-formed wo- 
 man than swan's-down, fox, chinchilla, or sable ; 
 these are graceful for the more slender. Women 
 of a spare habit, and of a tall and elegant height, 
 will derive considerable advantage from the full- 
 flowing robe, mantle, and Roman tunic. The fur 
 237
 
 DEfAlL OF FEMALE DRESS. 
 
 trimming, too, gives to them an appearance of 
 roundness which nature has denied ; and to this 
 description of person we can scarcely recommend 
 an evening dress more chaste, elegant, and ad- 
 vantageous, than robes of white satin, trimmed 
 with swan's-down, with draperies of silver or 
 gossamer net. The antique head-dress, or Queen 
 Mary coif, is best adapted to the Roman and Gre- 
 oian line of feature. The Chinese hat and High- 
 land helmet are becoming to countenances of a 
 rounder and more playful contour. 
 
 " We have frequently, in our observations, 
 found occasion to lament, in the present style of 
 female dress, a w^ant of that proper distinction 
 which should ever be attended to in the several 
 degrees of costume. For instance, the short 
 gown, so appropriate and convenient for walking, 
 and pursuing morning avocations or exercises, 
 intrudes beyond its sphere when seen in the even- 
 ing or full dress. It is in the splendid drawing- 
 room that the train robe appears with all that 
 238
 
 DETAIL OF FEMALE DRESS. 
 
 superiority which gives pre-eminence to grace, 
 and dignity to beauty. 
 
 " Why should these pleasingly-varying distinc- 
 tions be neglected ? The long sleeve, too, (now 
 so universal in almost every order of dress,) be- 
 longs with strict propriety only to the domestic 
 habit. These are inattentions or faults which a 
 correct taste will quickly discover, and easily 
 rectify. It is dangerous to level distinctions in 
 one case, and disadvantageous in the other. 
 There should be a just and reasonable discipline 
 in trifles, as well as in matters of higher import. 
 There is a vast deal more in things of seeming 
 insignificance than is commonly imagined. Sub- 
 jects of importance, high achievements, and glo- 
 rious examples, strike every beholder; but there 
 are few who reflect that it is by perseverance, 
 and attention to comparative trifles, that mighty 
 deeds are performed, and that great consequences 
 are ultimately produced. 
 
 " A correct taste is ever the concomitant of a 
 chaste mind * for, as a celebrated author has justly 
 239
 
 DETAIL OF FEMALE DRESS. 
 
 observed, our taste commonly declines with our 
 merit. A correct taste is the offspring of all 
 that is delicate in sentiment and just in concep- 
 tion; it softens the inflexibility of truth, and decks 
 reason in the most persuasive garments. 
 
 "A walking-dress cannot be constructed loo 
 simply. All attractive and fancy articles should 
 be confined to the carriage-dress, or dinner and 
 evening apparel. We shall here particularly 
 address the order of females who may not have 
 the luxury of a carriage, and yet be within the 
 rank of gentlewomen. This class composes 
 treble the number of those on whom fortune has 
 bestowed the appendages of equipages and reti- 
 nue. We shall, in our observations, particularly 
 aim at increasing their respectability, by leading 
 them to adopt a style of adornment which, while 
 it combines fashion and elegance, shall be remark- 
 able only for its neatness and simplicity. 
 
 " It lias been said that the love of dress is na- 
 tural to the sex ; and we see no reason why any 
 female should be offended with the assertion. 
 240
 
 DETAIL OF FEMALE DRESS. 
 
 'Dress,' says an author on the subject, 'is the 
 natural finish of beauty. Without dress a hand- 
 some person is a gem, but a gem that is not set.' 
 Dress, however, must be subject to certain rules; 
 be consistent with the graces, and with nature. 
 By attention to these particulars, is produced 
 that agreeable exterior, we know not why, — 
 which charms, even without that first and power- 
 ful attraction, beauty. 
 
 "Fashion, in her various flights, frequently 
 soars beyond the reach of propriety. Good sense, 
 taste, and delicacy, then make their appeal in 
 vain. Her despotic and arbitrary sway levels 
 and confounds. Where is delicacy 1 where is 
 policy 3 we mentally exclaim, when we see the 
 fair inconsiderate votary of fashion exposing un- 
 seemly that bosom which good men delight to 
 imagine the abode of innocence and truth. Can 
 the gaze of the voluptuous, the unlicensed admira- 
 tion of the profligate, compensate to the woman 
 of sentiment and purity for what she loses in the 
 estimation of the moral and the jusfJ 
 Q 241
 
 DETAIL OF FEMALE DRESS. 
 
 " But, delicacy apart, what shall we say to the 
 blind conceit of the robust, the coarse, the wan- 
 ing fair-one, wlio thus obtrude the ravages of time 
 upon the public eye 1 Let us not offend. We 
 wish to lead to conviction, not to awaken resent- 
 ment. Fashion must, in these instances, have 
 borrowed the bondage of fortune, and so blinded 
 her votaries against the sober dictates of reason, 
 the mild dignity of self-respect. 
 
 " There is a mediocrity which bounds all things, 
 and even fixes the standard which divides virtue 
 from bombast. Let us, therefore, in every con- 
 cern, endeavour to observe this happy tempera- 
 ture. Let the youthful female exhibit, without 
 shade, as much of her bust as shall come within 
 the limits of fashion, without infringing on the 
 borders of immodesty^ Let the fair of riper 
 years appear less exposed. To sensible and taste- 
 ful women a hint is merely required. They need 
 not very close instructions, for at once they per- 
 ceive, combine, and adopt, with judgment and 
 delicacy. The rules of propriety are followed, 
 242
 
 DETAIL OF FEMALE DRESS. 
 
 as it were, instinctively by them ; and their exam- 
 ple is so impressed on the generality of our lovely 
 countrywomen, (who, too often and inconsider- 
 ately, follow the vagaries of fashion with, perhaps, 
 rtdiculous avidity,) that we thus take upon us to 
 correct the irregularities of the many, in hopes 
 that the judicious few will embrace grace, and 
 make it universal. 
 
 "Far be it from us to lead the female mind 
 from its solemn engagements to the pursuit of 
 comparative nothings. But there is a time and 
 place for all things, and for every innocent pur- 
 pose under heaven ; and on these grounds we do 
 not see why a female should not blend the agree- 
 able with the estimable. 
 
 "There are persons who neglect their dress 
 from pride, and a desire to attract by a careless 
 singularity ; but wherever this is the case, depend 
 on it something is ^vTong in the mind. Lavater 
 has observed, that persons habitually attentive to 
 their attire, display the same regularity in their 
 domestic affairs. ' Young women,' he continues, 
 243
 
 DETAIL OF FEMALE DRESS. 
 
 ' who neglect their toilet, and manifest little con- 
 cern about dress, indicate a general disregard of 
 order; a mind but ill adapted to the detail of 
 house-keeping ; a deficiency of taste, and of the 
 qualities that inspire love : — they will be ca3P#> 
 less in every thing. The 'girl of eighteen who 
 desires not to please, will be a slut, or a shrew, 
 at twenty-five. Pay attention, young men, to 
 this sign ; it never yet was known to deceive.* 
 
 " Hence we see that the desire of exhibiting 
 an amiable exterior is essentially requisite in 
 woman. It is to be received as an unequivocal 
 symbol of those qualities which we seek in a 
 wife ; it indicates cleanliness, sweetness, a love 
 of order, and of universal propriety. What, then, 
 is there to censure in a moderate consideration 
 of dress? — Nothing. We may blame when we 
 find extravagance, profusion, misappropriation; 
 the tyranny of fashion, slavery to vanity ; in short, 
 bad taste ! 
 
 " Let us then urge the fair to that elegant sim- 
 plicity, that discriminating selection, which com- 
 244
 
 DETAIL OF FEMALE DRESS. 
 
 bines fashion, utility, and grace. Thus shall the 
 inventive faculty of genius be honoured and en- 
 couraged, and industry receive the reward of its 
 ingenuity and labours. 
 
 " We shall now proceed to notice the present 
 articles which claim fashionable pre-eminence, 
 and give some useful hints on their application. 
 
 *' As a walking habit, we know of none in sum- 
 mer which is more graceful than the lightly-flow- 
 ing shade of lace or finest muslin. And in win- 
 ter no invention can exceed the Trans-Baltic coat 
 or Lapland wrap. These comfortable shields 
 from the cold are usually formed of cloth or vel- 
 vet, with deep collars and cuffs of sable, or other 
 well-contrasted fur. Ladies of the first rank 
 usually have them lined throughout with the 
 same costly skins. These garments wrap over 
 the figure in front ; sometimes they have them 
 without other ornament than their bordering furs ; 
 and at others, fasten them with magnificent clasps 
 and buckles. We have seen one of these coats 
 (or, as northern travellers denominate them, 
 245
 
 DETAIL OF FEMALE DRESS. 
 
 shouhs,) on a female of high rank, composed of 
 crimson-velvet, with deep cuffs, cape and collar 
 of spotted ermine, and a deep border of the same 
 down the sides. It had a superb effect ; and with 
 the imperial helmet-hat of the same material, 
 exhibited one of the most sumptuous carriage 
 costumes that can be imagined. 
 
 " When this dress is adopted by the pedestrian 
 fair, we recommend it to be of a more sober hue, 
 and that the bonnet should be of the provincial 
 poke or cottage form. 
 
 " Short women destroy the symmetry of their 
 forms, and encumber their charms, with redun- 
 dancy of ornament, either in their morning or 
 evening attires. A little woman, befeathered 
 and furbelowed, looks like a queen of the Ban- 
 tam tribe ; and we dare not approach her for fear 
 of ruffling her plumes. Feathers are much in 
 vogue; and though formerly a symbol of full 
 dress, are now often a mark of graceful negli- 
 gence, and are seen falling carelessly, and float- 
 ing with ease ; they kiss the rosy cheek of youth 
 246
 
 DETAIL OF FEMALE DRESS. 
 
 and health; or, less courteous, steal the vermilion 
 from the painted face of fading maturity, as 
 fanned by the spiteful breeze they wave from her 
 bonneted head in the gay promenade. 
 
 " We love to see our countrywomen remark- 
 able for elegance and modesty, as well as beauty. 
 Americans, accustomed to objects of undisputed 
 loveliness, aim at something beyond the surface 
 of external charms ; they require that all should 
 be fair within. 
 
 "Hear what a male writer has observed on 
 the fashion of exposing the bosom ! ' A woman, 
 proud of her beauty,' says he, ' may possibly be 
 nothing but a coquette; one who makes a public 
 display of her bosom, is something worse.' This 
 writer insinuates too much ; for we believe that 
 so far from our females being actuated in this 
 case by any unbecoming motive, they too com- 
 monly act from no motive at all ; save that blind 
 and mistaken one which we have so much con- 
 demned — the heedless adoption of an absurdity^ 
 because it is the fashion ! But let the inconsid- 
 247
 
 DETAIL OF FEMALE DRESS. 
 
 erate beauty remember, that where two motives 
 can be assigned to an action, the world will gene- 
 rally adopt that which is least favourable !" 
 
 Though I have made this extract, which enters 
 so intimately into the secrets of the toilet, and 
 descants so engagingly on its attractive subject, 
 I must desire that it may not be supposed I would 
 seek to create an inordinate degree of care re- 
 specting that which is Comparatively of no 
 account, when placed in competition with the in^ 
 dispensable qualities and acquirements which 
 ought to adorn the Christian maid. I would have 
 my fair friends be fully impressed with the truth, 
 that it is not she who spends the most time at 
 her toilet that is usually the best dressed ; a too 
 zealous care generally subverts the effect it was 
 meant to produce. It is very easy to " varnish 
 till the painting disappears." A multiplicity of 
 ornaments ever distracts the attention, and de- 
 tracts from feminine loveliness. They are re- 
 garded as a sort of make-weights in a scale, 
 248
 
 DETAIL OF FEMALE DRESS. 
 
 where nature must have been a niggard to render 
 them necessary. 
 
 In the like manner, a diversity of colours be- 
 speaks vulgarity of taste, and a mind without 
 innate elegance or acquired culture. Where 
 doubt may be about this or that hue being becom- 
 ing or genteel, (as it is very possible it may nei- 
 ther be the one nor the other,) let the puzzled 
 beauty leave both, and securely array herself in 
 simple 'white, " pure as her mind." That prime- 
 val hue never offends, and frequently is the most 
 graceful robe that youth and loveliness can wear. 
 " It is inconceivable," says a writer on the sub- 
 ject, " how much the colour of a gown or a shawl 
 may heighten or destroy the beauty of a com- 
 plexion ; and how much the sex in general ne- 
 glect these (to them) important particular^." 
 Every consideration must yield to the prevailing 
 mode ; and to this tyrant all advantages are sa- 
 crificed. Women no longer consult their figures, 
 but the whim of the moment ; and it is sufiicient 
 for them that the reigning belle appeared in mur 
 249
 
 DETAIL OF FEMALE DRESS. 
 
 ry colour or coquelicot, to make all the belles in 
 the city, black, brown, or fair, array themselves 
 in the same livery. 
 
 Nothing contributes more to the setting forth 
 of the beauties of a complexion than the choice 
 of the colours opposed to it. Women should not 
 only be nice in this adaptation, but they must be 
 careful that the different shades or hues they ad- 
 mit in the various parts of their garments should 
 accord with each other. 
 
 Here it is that we distinguish the woman of 
 taste from the hoyden, ready to employ a pedlar's 
 pack upon her shoulders. To attempt to contrast 
 two shades of the same colour, has in general a 
 very harsh effect ; indeed I never saw it harmo- 
 nize in the least, except in the case of two greens 
 as. a trimming; or in the beautiful blending of 
 nature in the form and hues of flowers. 
 
 It is also not unworthy of remark, that colours 
 
 which are to make a part of evening apparel 
 
 ought to be chosen by candle-light ; for if in the 
 
 morning, forgetful of the influence of different 
 
 250
 
 DETAIL OF FEMALE DRESS. 
 
 lights on these things, you purchase a robe of pale 
 yellow, purple, lilac, or rose colour, you will be 
 greatly disappointed when at night it is observed 
 to you that your dress is either dingy, foxy, or 
 black. 
 
 The harmonious assortment of well-chosen co- 
 lours was once quite a science amongst women ; 
 and even now it may not only be considered as a 
 specimen of delicate taste, but a proof of that 
 genius, which, if cultivated, might distil the hues 
 of Iris over the animated canvas fraught with 
 beauty and life. 
 
 This union of a thousand dyes, " by nature's 
 pure and cunning hand laid on," cannot be found 
 in greater perfection than in the resplendent lap 
 of summer ; then the earth teems with gay en- 
 chantment, and presents to the fair wanderers 
 through her fragrant bowers the loveliest raiment 
 for their beauties. This animating and native 
 ornament, so interesting and charming in itself, 
 should ever find a place on the toilet of youth. 
 How can a beauteous young woman (the fairest 
 251
 
 DETAIL OF FEMALE DRESS. 
 
 production of creation) be more suitably adorned 
 than with this sweet apparel of the fairest season 1 
 It is uniting "sweets to the sweet." Flowers 
 recall so many pleasing images to the mind, that 
 when a beholder sees them he is ever put in a 
 temper to admire; and, when they are found 
 blended with the beauties of a lovely girl, the 
 effect is irresistible. 
 
 The simple wreath of roses, the jessamine, the 
 lily of the valley, the snow-drop, the brilliant 
 ranunculus, and a long train of rival sweets, offer 
 themselves at the shrine of female taste. From 
 this rich assemblage are selected and formed 
 those delicious garlands which deck the snowy 
 brows of Celia, which twine with Chloe's golden 
 hair. From this fair parterre we collect the 
 variegated bouquet, wjiich, reposing on the bosom 
 of beauty, mingles its fragrant breath with hers. 
 
 This tender, this exquisite sweetness, which we 
 
 inhale from the lily, the rose, or the violet, is far 
 
 preferable to all the extracted perfumes that ever 
 
 were wafted " from Indus to the pole." They 
 
 252
 
 DETAIL OF FEMALE DRESS. 
 
 are not only purer and more balmy ; but, when, 
 on approaching a lovely woman, we find, not only 
 our eye delighted with the sight of beauty, but 
 our senses " wrapped in the sweet embrace of 
 soft perfumes ;" when it is not the preconcerted 
 fragrancy of essences drawn from east to west, 
 and poured upon the fair with the design to affect 
 our senses; then we yield ourselves to the lovely 
 breathing of nature. We see her in the charm- 
 ing creature before us, blooming in youth and 
 freshness ; we feel her in the thousand odours of 
 Paradise, emanating from the newly-plucked 
 flowers, which seem to share her being, imbibing 
 and partaking sweetness. 
 
 Amidst the variety of materials with which 
 women decorate their persons, there is not one 
 that requires greater discrimination in the use 
 than those articles of jewelry w^hich we denomi- 
 nate trinkets. Here good taste, the general 
 regulatrix, now resumes her sway. The blind 
 directress of the luxuriant imagination gives 
 grace to solidity, and consequence to trifles. 
 253
 
 DEFAIL OF FEMALE DRESS. 
 
 Her magic spirit breathes in the laurels of the 
 hero, dwells on the lip of oratory, and sparkles 
 in the gem that decorates the fair ! 
 
 To women of the most exalted as well as of 
 the more humble ranks, we recommend a mode- 
 rate, rather than a profuse, display of conspicuous 
 and showy ornaments. A well-educated taste 
 ought to open the eyes of a woman to be a tole- 
 rably correct judge of the perfections or imper- 
 fections of her own person ; and by that judgment 
 she ought to regulate the adoption or rejection 
 of striking decoration. 
 
 It is well to remind my youthful reader that 
 she can never learn these truths (when they are 
 on the defective side) but from the decisions of 
 her own impartial mind. Few women, much less 
 men, would venture to say to an improperly 
 dressed young lady, — " Madam, your fingers are 
 too clumsy to wear with advantage that brilliant 
 ring ; — your neck and arms are too meagre, dis- 
 coloured, or coarse, to adopt the pearl bracelet or 
 necklace ; unless, indeed, you soften the contrast 
 254
 
 DETAIL OF FEMALE DRESS. 
 
 by putting a lace shirt and long- sleeves between 
 your skin and the pearls." These observations 
 would place the too frank adviser in a similar 
 situation with that of Gil Bias, when correcting 
 the manuscripts of the conceited Prelate of 
 Granada ; — and, therefore, we cannot expect 
 that any friend should run the risk of incurring 
 our resentment, when they might retain our fa- 
 vour by only permitting us to make ourselves as 
 ridiculous as we please. 
 
 Let me, then, in the light of an author, who 
 cannot be supposed, in a general address, to mean 
 any individual personal reflections, admonish my 
 readers, one and all, not to neglect composing 
 their complexions with the hues and brilliancy 
 of the' gems offered to them to wear. Clear 
 brunettes shine with the greatest lustre when 
 they adopt pearls, diamonds, topazes, and bright 
 amber. The fair beauty may also wear all these 
 with advantage, while she exclusively claims as 
 her own, emeralds, garnets, amethysts, rubies, 
 onyxes, &c. &c. Cornelian, coral, and jet, may 
 255
 
 DETAIL OF FEMALE DRESS. 
 
 be worn by either ; but certainly produce the most 
 pleasing- effect on the rose and lily complexion. 
 
 Ornaments and trimmings of silver are to be 
 preferred to gold, when intended for the fair 
 beauty. The white lustre of the first of these 
 costly metals harmonizes better with delicacy of 
 skin than the glaring effulgence of the gold. By 
 a parity of reasoning, gold agrees better with the 
 brunette, as its yellow and flaming hue lights up 
 the fire of her eyes, and exhibits her complexion 
 in the brightest contrast. 
 
 If the clavicle^ or collar-bone, be too apparent, 
 either from accidental thinness or original shape, 
 remedy the defect by letting the necklace fall 
 immediately into the cavity which the ungrace- 
 ful projection occasions. But should this bone 
 protrude itself to an absolutely ugly extent, I 
 would recommend the neck to be completely 
 covered by a lace handkerchief and frill ; for its 
 exposure would only give a bad specimen of a 
 figure which may be, in every other part of a just 
 and fine proportion. 
 
 256
 
 DETAIL OF FEMALE DRESS. 
 
 If the prevailing- fashion be to reject the long 
 sleeve, and to partially display the arm, let the 
 glove advance considerably above the elbow, and 
 there be fastened with a drawing-string, or arm- 
 let. But this should only be the case when the 
 arm is muscular, coarse, or scraggy. When it is 
 fair, smooth, and round, it will admit of the glove 
 being pushed down to a little above the wrists. 
 
 There is perhaps no single beauty of the female 
 form which obtains so much admiration as a well- 
 proportioned foot and ankle. Possibly the liveli- 
 ness of this sentiment may be increased in this 
 instance by the rarity of the perfection. 
 
 There isa.je ne sgai quoi in a fine ankle, which 
 seems to assure the gazer that the whole of the 
 form of which it is a sample, is shaped with the 
 same exquisite grace. A heavy leg and foot 
 seems to hint that the whole of the limbs which 
 the drapery conceals are in a gravitating propor- 
 tion with their clumsy foundations; and where 
 we see ponderosity of body, we are apt to con- 
 clude that there is equal heaviness in mind and 
 B 257
 
 ETAIL OF FEMALE DRESS. 
 
 feelings. This may be an unjust mode of reason- 
 ing, but it is a very common one ; and so I account 
 for the general prejudice against any unusual 
 weight in the lower extremities. 
 
 When we consider that it required the famous 
 sculptor of Greece to collect the most beautiful 
 virgins from every part of his country before he 
 could find a living model for every part of hiB 
 projected statue of perfect beauty ; when we con- 
 sider this, that the very native land of female 
 charms could not produce one woman completely 
 faultless in her form — how can we be so unrea- 
 sonable as to demand such perfection in a daugh- 
 ter of our own country ! 
 
 Let not the other sex scrutinize too closely, 
 nor demand that universal and correct symmetry 
 in their wives and daughters, which was never 
 yet found but in the elaborately chiseled models 
 of the sculptor's study. 
 
 It must not, however, be presumed from what 
 I have said, that the generality of other countries 
 are happier in the beautiful formation of their 
 258
 
 DETAIL OF FEMALE DRESS. 
 
 women's forms than our own, or that the Ameri- 
 can fair are at all more notorious than many other 
 nations for heavy feet and legs. So far from it, 
 there are ladies in our country with feet and 
 ankles of so delicate a symmetry, that there is 
 nothing in modelling or in marble to excel their 
 perfection. But to make a display of them — to 
 exhibit them by unusually short petticoats, and 
 draw attention by extraordinary gay attire, is an 
 instance of immodesty and ill-taste, which attracts 
 contempt instead of admiration. Men despise 
 her for her impropriety, and envious women have 
 a fair subject on which to ground their detractions. 
 In short, it can never be sufficiently inculcated, 
 that modesty is the most graceful ornament of 
 beauty. 
 
 " She that has that, is clad in complete steel." 
 
 Be the foot eminently handsome, or the reverse, 
 it alike requires to be arrayed soberly. Except 
 on certain brilliant occasions, its shoe should be 
 confined to grave and clean-looking colours ; of 
 the first, black, grays, and browns ; of the ket, 
 259
 
 DETAIL OF FEMALE DRESS. 
 
 white, nankeen, pale-blue, green, &.C., according- 
 to the colour of the dress, and the time of day. 
 I should suppose it almost useless to say, that 
 (except in a carriage) the dark colours ought to 
 be preferred in a morning. To be sure, there is 
 nothing out of character in wearing nankeen 
 shoes or half-boots in the early part of the day, 
 even in walking, provided the other parts of your 
 dress be spotless white, or 6f the same buff hue. 
 The other delicate colours I have mentioned 
 above (I repeat, except in a carriage) are confined 
 to evening dresses. Red morocco, scarlet, and 
 those very vivid hues, cannot be worn with any 
 propriety until winter, when the colour of the 
 mantle or pelisse may sanction its fulnfess. On 
 brilliant assembly nights, or drawing-rooms, the 
 spangled, or diamond-decorated slipper, has a 
 magnificent and appropriate eflfect. But for the 
 raiment of the leg, we totally disapprove, at all 
 times, of the much ornamented stocking 
 
 The open-wove clock and instep, instead of 
 displaying fine proportion, confuse the contour ; 
 260 
 
 i
 
 DETAIL OF FEMALE DRESS. 
 
 and may produce an impression of gaiety, but ex- 
 clude that of beauty, whose rays always strike 
 singly. But if the clock be a coloured or a gold 
 one, as I have sometimes seen, how glaring is 
 the exhibition I how coarse the association of 
 ideas it produces in the fancy ! Instead of a 
 woman of refined manners and polished habitSj 
 your imagination reverts to the gross and revolt- 
 ing females of the fish-market ; or at least to the 
 hired opera-dancer, whose business it is to make 
 her foot and ankle the principal object which 
 characterizes her charms, and attracts the coup 
 d'ml of the whole assembly. 
 
 If I may give my fair friends a hint on this 
 delicate subject, it would be that the finest 
 rounded ankles are most effectually shown by 
 wearing a silk stocking ivithout any clock. The 
 eye then slides easily over the unbroken line, and 
 takes in all its beauties. But when the ankle is 
 rather large, or square, then a pretty unobtrusive 
 net clock, of the same colour as the stocking, 
 will be a useful division, and induce the beholder 
 261
 
 DETAIL OF FEMALE DRESS. 
 
 to believe the perfect symmetry of the parts ; a 
 very thick leg cannot be disguised or amended ; 
 and in this case I can only recommend absolute 
 neatness in the dressing of the limb, and petti- 
 coats so long that there is hardly a chance of its 
 ever being seen. 
 
 One cause of thick ankles in young women is 
 want of exercise, and abiding much in overheated 
 rooms. Standing too long has oflcn the same 
 effect, by subjecting the limb to an unnatural load, 
 and therefore to swelling. The only preventive, 
 or cure, for this malady, is a strict attention to 
 health. You might as well expect to see a rose- 
 bush spring, bud, and bloom, in a closely-pent 
 oven, as anticipate fine proportions and complex- 
 ion from a long continuance of the exotic fashions 
 of modern days. 
 
 If a girl wishes to be well-shaped and well- 
 complexioned, she must use due exercise on foot. 
 Horseback is an excellent auxiliary, as it gives 
 much the same degree of motion, with double the 
 animation, in consequence of the change of air, 
 262
 
 DETAIL OF FEMALE DRESS. 
 
 and variation of objects ; but carriage exercise is 
 so little, that we cannot recommend it to any case 
 that is short of an absolute invalid. A woman in 
 respectable health must walk, to maintain her 
 happy temperament. By this she will still more 
 consolidate her solids, and preserve the shape 
 with which nature has kindly endowed her. If it 
 was originally fine, it will remain ; and if it was 
 but ordinary, it will at least save itself from 
 growing deformed. 
 
 A few hints on some particulars of dress, and 
 we leave this subject. 
 
 The morning dress of a lady should be a plain 
 frock, or common robe ; the hair, if in papers, 
 concealed by a cap or bandeau of lace or hair. 
 No visitors should be received while the lady is 
 in this undress, but her most intimate friends, or 
 persons upon very urgent business. 
 
 An early hour should be fixed and adhered to, 
 
 for leaving off this dress, in order that the lady 
 
 may be soon ready for the ordinary business and 
 
 visits of the day. One should by no means go 
 
 263
 
 DETAIL OF FEMALE DRESS. 
 
 out in a morning dress. Morning calls should be 
 made in a neat and simple neglige. Ceremonious 
 visits, or evening parties, require more attention 
 10 the dress. On such occasions, as well as at the 
 theatre and opera, richly laced caps, with flowers, 
 toques, or turbans, may be worn with propriety. 
 
 Young ladies should exhibit much less of luxury 
 and expense in dress than is allowable in married 
 ladies ; and it is bad taste for persons, whose in- 
 comes are known to be small, to dress expensively 
 on any occasion. Such extravagance justly ex- 
 poses them to severe remarks. 
 
 It is necessary so preserve a certain consistency 
 in dress; and by no means to exhibit a single 
 showy and expensive article associated with others 
 ■which are mean and inferior. The safe course, 
 even with persons of large fortune, is rather to 
 study simplicity and good taste, than show and 
 expense. 
 
 The practice of appearing on foot in the streets 
 in full dress, which is so prevalent in this coun- 
 try, has drawn down much ridicule upon our 
 264
 
 DETAIL OF FEMALE DRESS. 
 
 ladies from intellig-ent foreigners, A lady thus 
 attired in the streets can only be supposed to be 
 on her way to some ball or dinner party ; and the 
 quesion very naturally occurs, why she had not 
 taken a carriage to reach her destination. "When, 
 in addition to this folly, the lady chooses to risk 
 her health by walking the street in satin shoes, 
 in cold weather, the offence becomes still mpre 
 reprehensible. 
 
 Some ladies seek for notoriety by wearing the 
 oddest patterns and colours they can find, and 
 adopting the most outre fashions the moment they 
 are announced. This is bad taste, and argues a 
 pitiful ambition, unworthy the dignity and modest 
 reserve which should ever distinguish an Ameri- 
 can lady. 
 
 265
 
 MISCELLANEOUS OBSERVATIONS. 
 
 True politeness, like true benevolence, the 
 source from which it flows, aims at the real good 
 of all mankind, and sincerely endeavours to make 
 all easy and happy, not only by considerable ser- 
 vices, but" by £ttt those little attentions which can 
 contribute to it. In this it differs essentially from 
 that artificial politeness which too often assumes 
 its place, and which consists in an endeavour, not 
 to make others happy, but to serve the interests 
 of our own vanity, by gaining their favour and 
 good opinion, though at the expense of truth, 
 goodness, and even of their happiness, if the 
 point in view can be obtained by destroying it. 
 
 Flattery is an essential part of this sort of po- 
 liteness, the means by which it generally suc- 
 ceeds: but true politeness stands in need of no 
 such assistance ; it is the genuine expression of 
 the heart, it seeks no disguise, and will never 
 266
 
 MISCELLANEOUS OBSERVATIONS. 
 
 flatter. He who acts from this principle will ex- 
 press to all what he truly feels — a real good-will, 
 a sincere concern for their happiness, and an 
 earnest desire to promote it. He will not express 
 admiration for a fool, nor esteem for a bad man ; 
 bat he will express benevolence to all, because 
 he feels it ; and he will endeavour to do them 
 good, as far as may be in his power, because he 
 sincerely wishes it. 
 
 Flattery is directly contrary to this ; it seeks its 
 own ends without considering what may be the 
 consequence with regard to others. It is also 
 essentially different from that regard which is 
 paid to real merit ; for that is a tribute which is 
 certamly its due, and may be both paid and re- 
 ceived with innocence and pleasure : but the ex- 
 pressions of this will generally be such as escape 
 undesignedly from the heart, and are far different 
 from the studied language of flattery. 
 
 Indeed flattery is not, in general, addressed to 
 real and acknowledged merit. It has been ob- 
 served by one, who seems to have studied it as a 
 267
 
 MISCELLA-NEOIiS OBSERVATIONS. 
 
 science, that a professed beauty must not be com- 
 plimented upon her person, but her understanding, 
 because there she may be supposed to be more 
 doubtful of her excellence ; while one, whose 
 pretensions to beauty are but small, will be most 
 flattered by compliments on her personal charms. 
 
 The same may be observed as to other quali- 
 ties : for though most people would consider flat- 
 tery as an insult, if addressed to such qualities as 
 they know they do not possess ; yet, in general, 
 they are best pleased with it where they feel any 
 degree of doubt, or suspect that others may do so. 
 
 Nor does this artificial kind of flattery gene- 
 rally stop at such qualities as are in themselves 
 indifferent ; it is too often employed (and perhaps 
 still more successfully) in disguising and palliating 
 faults, and thereby affording encouragement to 
 those whose inclinations were restrained by some 
 degree of remorse. 
 
 It is unjust as well as ill-natured to take ad- 
 vantage of the weakness of others, in order to 
 obtain our own ends, at the hazard of rendering 
 268
 
 MISCELLANEOUS OBSERVATIONS. 
 
 them ridiculous ; but it is something far worse 
 to lend a helping hand to those who hesitate at 
 engaging in the paths of vice, and feel a painful 
 conflict between their duty and their inclination ; 
 or to endeavour to lessen the sense of duty in 
 those who are not free from some degree of re- 
 morse, and desire to amend. Yet these are, in 
 general, the persons to whom flattery is most ac- 
 ceptable : it soothes their inclinations, and dispels 
 their doubts, at the same time that it gratifies 
 their vanity ; it frees them from a painful sensa- 
 tion, and saves them the trouble of a difficult 
 task, while it aflx)rds them a present pleasure : 
 and if it do not entirely conquer their scruples, 
 at least it removes one restraint which lay in their 
 way, the fear of being censured. Yet how often 
 is all this done by those who would think them- 
 selves insufferably injured, if they were to be 
 supposed capable of picking a pocket, though in 
 that case the injury might perhaps be trifling, 
 and hardly worth a thought. 
 
 Those, who make no scruple of such methods 
 269
 
 MISCELLANEOUS OBSERVATIONS. 
 
 as these, if at the same time, by being much ac- 
 customed to polite company, they have acquired 
 a certain elegance of manners, and facility of 
 expressing themselves, will seldom fail to please, 
 upon a slight acquaintance ; but the best actor 
 will find it difficult always to keep up to his part. 
 He, who is polite only by rule, will probably, on 
 some occasion or other, be thrown off his guard ; 
 and he, who is continually professing sentiments 
 which he does not feel, will hardly be able 
 always to do it in such a manner as to avoid be- 
 trayipg himself. 
 
 Whatever degree of affection or esteem is 
 gained without being deserved, though at first it 
 may be both paid and received with pleasure, will 
 probably, after a time, vanish into nothing, or 
 prove a source of disappointment and mortifica- 
 tion to both parties ; and even while the delusion 
 lasts, it is scarcely possible it should be attended 
 with entire satisfaction to the deceiver : for de- 
 ceit of all kinds, from the greatest to the most 
 trifling instance of it, must be attended with a 
 270
 
 MISCELLANEOUS OBSERVATIONS. 
 
 degree of anxiety, and can never enjoy that per- 
 fect ease and security, which attends on those 
 whose words and actions are the natural undis- 
 guised expressions of the sentiments of the heart. 
 
 Sincerity is indeed the ground- work of all that 
 is good and valuable ; however beautiful in ap- 
 pearance the structure may be, if it stand not on 
 this foundation it cannot last. But sincerity can 
 hardly be called a virtue in itself, though a de- 
 viation from it is a fault. A man may be sincere 
 in his vices, as well as in his virtues ; and he who 
 throws off all restraint of remorse or shame, and 
 even makes a boast of his vices, can claim no 
 merit from the sincerity he expresses in so 
 doing. 
 
 If he who is sincere cannot appear amiable, his 
 heart is wrong, and his sincerity, far from being 
 a virtue, serves only to add to the rest of his 
 faults that of being willing to give pain to others, 
 and able to throw aside that shame which should 
 attend on every fault, whether great or small, 
 and which is sometimes a restraint to such as are 
 271
 
 MISCELLANEOUS OBSERVATIONS. 
 
 incapable of being- influenced by more praise- 
 worthy motives. 
 
 Much has been said and vi^ritten on the subject 
 of politeness ; but those, who attempt to teach it, 
 generally begin where they should end ; and the 
 instruction they give is something like teaching 
 a set of elegant phrases in a language not under- 
 stood, or instructing a person in music, by making 
 him learn a few tunes by memory, without any 
 knowledge of the grounds of the science. The 
 polish of elegant manners is indeed truly pleasing 
 and necessary in order to make the worthiest 
 character completely amiable ; but it should be a 
 polish, and not a varnish : the ornament of a good 
 heart, not the disguise of a bad one. 
 
 Where a truly benevolent heart is joined with 
 a delica*te mind, and both are directed by a solid 
 and refined understanding, the natural expres- 
 sion of these qualities will be the essential part 
 of true politeness. All the rest is mere arbitrary 
 custom, which varies according to the manners 
 of different nations, and different times. A con- 
 272
 
 MISCELLANEOUS OBSERVATIONS. 
 
 formity to this is, however, highly necessary; 
 and those who neglect to acquire the knowledge 
 and practice of it betray the want of some of the 
 above-mentioned qualities. 
 
 A person might as well refuse to speak the 
 language of a country, as to disregard its cus-, 
 toms in matters of indifference ; like it, they are 
 signs, which, though unmeaning perhaps in 
 themselves, are established by general consent to 
 express certain sentiments ; and a want of atten- 
 tion to them would appear to express a want 
 of those sentiments, and therefore, in -regard to 
 others, would have the same bad effect. But 
 though the neglect of these things be blameable, 
 those who consider them as the essential part of 
 true politeness are much wider of the mg,rk, for 
 they ipay be strictly observed where that is en- 
 tirely wanting. 
 
 To wound the heart, to mislead the understand- 
 ing, to discourage a timid character, to expose an 
 ignorant, though perhaps an innocent one, with 
 numberless other instances in which a real inju- 
 s 273
 
 MISCELLANEOUS OBSERVATIONS. 
 
 rv is done, are things by no means inconsistent 
 with the rules of politeness, and are often done 
 by such as would not go out of the room before 
 the person they have been treating in this man- 
 ner ; for though doing such things openly might 
 be considered as ill-manners, there are many in- 
 direct* ways, which are just as effectual, and 
 which may be practised without any breach of 
 established forms. Like the Pharisees of old, 
 they are scrupulous observers of the letter of the 
 law in trifles, while they neglect the spirit of it : 
 and their observance of forms, far from giving 
 any reason to depend on them, on the contrary 
 often serves them only as a shelter, under which 
 they can do such things as others would not dare 
 to venture upon. 
 
 This is also, in general, only put on (like their 
 best dress) when they are to go into company ; 
 for whenever politeness is not the natural expres- 
 sion of the heart, it must be in some degree a 
 restraint, and will therefore probably be laid 
 aside in every unguarded hour, that is to say, in 
 274
 
 MISCELLANEOUS OBSERVATIONS. 
 
 all their intercourse with those whom it is of 
 most consequence to them to endeavour to make 
 happy : — and the unhappiness, which sometimes 
 reigns in families, who really possess many good 
 qualities, and are not wanting- in mutual affection, 
 is often entirely owing to a want of that true 
 and sincere politeness, which should animate the 
 whole conduct, though the manner of expressing 
 it must be different according to different cir- 
 cumstances. 
 
 Politeness is always necessary to complete the 
 happiness of society in every situation, from the 
 accidental meeting of strangers to the most inti- 
 mate connections of families and friends ; but it 
 must be the genuine expression of the settled 
 character, or it cannot be constant and universal. 
 Let us then endeavour to consider the true foun- 
 dation of that ever-pleasing quality distinguished 
 by the name of true politeness, leaving the orna- 
 mental part of it, like other ornaments, to be de- 
 termined by the fashion of the place and time. 
 
 True benevolence inspires a sincere desire to 
 275
 
 MISCELLANEOUS OBSERVATIONS. 
 
 promote the happiness of others: true delicacy 
 enables u& to enter into their feelings: it has a 
 quick sense of what may give pleasure or pain, 
 and teaches us to pursue the one, and avoid the 
 other : and a refined understanding points out the 
 surest means of doing this in different circum- 
 stances, and of suiting our conduct to the per- 
 sons with whom we are concerned. The union 
 of all these will constitute that amiable charac- 
 ter, of which true politeness is the genuine and 
 natural expression. 
 
 The person who has not these qualities may 
 indeed, by other means, attain to something like 
 politeness on some occasions; but the person 
 who possesses them in perfection can never be 
 wanting in it, even for a moment, in any instance, 
 or in any company ; with superiors and inferiors, 
 with strangers and with friends, the same char- 
 acter is still preserved, though expressed in dif- 
 ferent ways. Those pleasing attentions, which 
 are the charm of society, are continually paid 
 with ease and satisfaction, for they are the natu- 
 276 
 
 :^
 
 MISCELLANEOUS OBSERVATIONS. 
 
 ral language of such sentiments ; and to such a 
 character it would be painful to omit them; 
 while every thing that can give unnecessary 
 pain, even in the smallest degree, is constantly 
 avoided, because directly contrary to it; for no 
 pain can be inflicted by a person of such a dis- 
 position without being strongly felt at the same 
 time. 
 
 A superior degree of delicacy may often be 
 the cause of much pain to those who possess it ; 
 they will be hurt at many things which would 
 make no impression upon others ; but, from that 
 very circumstance, they will be taught to avoid 
 giving pain on numberless occasions, when others 
 might do it. Whenever an excess of sensibility 
 is supposed to produce a contrary effect," wfe may 
 be certain it is, in fact, an excess of selfishness. 
 
 True delicacy feels the pain it receives, but it 
 feels much more strongly the pain it gives ; and 
 therefore will never give any which it is possible 
 to avoid. Far from being the cause of unreasona- 
 ble complaints, uneasiness, and fretfulness, it will 
 277
 
 MISCELLANEOUS OBSERVATIONS. 
 
 always carefully avoid such thing's ; it will know 
 how to make allowances for others, and rather 
 suffer in silence than give them unnecessary 
 pain. It will inspire the gentlest and most en- 
 gaging methods of helping others to amend their 
 faults, and to correct those irregularities of tem- 
 per which disturb the peace of society, w^ithout 
 exposing them to the humiliation of being up- 
 braided, or even of being made fully sensible of 
 the offence they give ; which often disposes peo- 
 ple rather to seek for excuses, than to endeavour 
 to amend. In short, it enlightens and directs 
 benevolence ; discovers numberless occasions for 
 the exertion of it, which are too generally over- 
 looked ; and points out the surest and most pleas- 
 ing means of attaining those ends which it pur- 
 sues. 
 
 This earnest desire to promote the happiness 
 of all, which is essential to true politeness, 
 should always be carefully distinguished from 
 that desire of pleasing, in which self-love is in 
 fact the object; for though this may sometimes 
 278
 
 MISCELLANEOLS OBSLR\ ATIONS. 
 
 appear to produce the same effects with the 
 other, it is by no means sufficient fully to supply 
 its place. It is indeed a natural sentiment, 
 which is both pleasing and useful when kept 
 within due bounds. 
 
 To gain the good-will of others is soothing to 
 the heart ; and they must be proud or insensible, 
 in a very uncommon degree, who are not desirous 
 of it : but much more than this is necessary to 
 inspire true and constant politeness in every in- 
 stance ; and this desire, carried to excess, may 
 produce very pernicious consequences. 
 
 From hence sometimes proceed endeavours to 
 supplant others in the favour of those we wish to 
 please and to recommend ourselves at their ex- 
 pense, together with all the train of evils which 
 attend on envy and jealousy. 
 
 From hence also flattery, and all those means 
 of gaining favour, by which the real good of 
 others is sacrificed to our own interest; and from 
 hence much of the insincerity which prevails in 
 common conversation. False maxims are adopted, 
 279
 
 MISCELLANEOUS OBSERVATIONS. 
 
 and the real sentiments disguised ; a disposition 
 to ridicule, censoriousness, and many other faults, 
 are encouraged ; and truth and goodness are 
 sacrificed to the fear of giving offence : and thus 
 an inclination, in itself innocent, and calculated 
 to promote the pleasure and advantage of society, 
 is made productive of much evil, by being suf- 
 fered to act beyond its proper sphere, and to take 
 place of others which should always be preferred 
 before it. 
 
 But even considered in the most favourable 
 light, the desire of pleasing others falls far short 
 of that endeavour to make them happy which 
 benevolence inspires : for the one is only exerted 
 in such instances as can gain observation ; the 
 other extends to every thing within its power, 
 and can sacrifice even the desire of pleasing to 
 that of doing real good, whenever the one is in- 
 consistent with the other. Yet where this is 
 done with that true politeness, which is the 
 effect of those qualities already mentioned, it is 
 very likely to succeed better in the end, even as 
 280
 
 MISCELLANECrS OBSERVATIONS. 
 
 to gaining favour with all those whose favour is 
 truly valuable ; but it depends not on such cir- 
 cumstances; it is a settled character, which is 
 naturally displayed in every instance without art 
 or study. 
 
 It may also be observed, that though a great 
 degree of affection may subsist where this quality 
 is wanting, yet that want will always prove an 
 alloy to the pleasure of it. 
 
 We see persons who really feel this affection, 
 who would do and suffer a great deal to serve 
 each other, and would consider a separation by 
 absence or death as one of the greatest of evils ; 
 and who yet, merely from the want of this quali- 
 ty, lose a thousand opportunities of promoting the 
 happiness of those they truly love and value, and 
 often give them real pain, without ever suspect- 
 ing themselves of being wanting in regard and 
 affection, because they feel, that they would be 
 ready to exert themselves in doing them any 
 essential service. 
 
 Thus the pleasure of society is destroyed, and 
 281
 
 MISCELLANEOUS OBSERVATIONS. 
 
 the supposed consciousness of possessing good 
 qualities (for the exertion of which it is possible 
 no opportunity may ever offer) is thought to make 
 amends for the want of such as are truly pleasing 
 and useful in every day and hour of our inter- 
 course with each other. 
 
 Happiness consists not in some extraordinary 
 instance of good fortune, nor virtue in some 
 illustrious exertion of it ; for such things are in 
 the power of few : but if they are true and 
 genuine, the one must be practised, and the other 
 enjoyed, in the constant and uniform tenour of 
 our lives. 
 
 The person, who, on some extraordinary occa- 
 sion, does another some signal piece of service, 
 is by no means so great a benefactor as one who 
 makes his life easy and happy by those pleasing 
 attentions, the single instances of which too 
 often pass unnoticed, but which altogether form 
 the delight of social intercourse, and afford a 
 calm and serene pleasure, without which the 
 282
 
 MISCELLANEOUS OBSERVATIONS. 
 
 most prosperous fortune can never bestow hap 
 piness. 
 
 There is a security in all our intercourse with 
 persons of this character, which banishes that 
 continual anxiety, and dread of giving offence, 
 which so often throw a restraint on the freedom 
 of conversation. 
 
 Such persons wish all mankind to be amiable 
 and happy, and therefore would certainly do their 
 utmost to make them so ; and far from taking 
 offence where none was intended, they will be 
 disposed lo see all in the most favourable light , 
 and even where they cannot approve, they will 
 never be severe in their censures on any, but al- 
 w^ays ready to endeavour to bring them back to 
 what is right, with that gentleness and delicacy, 
 which show it is for their sakes they wish it, and 
 not in resentment of an injury received, or with 
 a view to assume to themselves a superiority over 
 them. 
 
 They will make allowances for all the little 
 peculiarities of humour, all the weaknesses, and 
 283
 
 MISCELLANEOUS OBSERVATIONS. 
 
 even the faults, as far as possible, of those with 
 whom they converse, and carefully avoid what- 
 ever may tend to irritate and aggravate them ; 
 which is often done by such things as would be 
 trifling and indifferent in other circumstances. 
 This not only has a bad effect, by giving present 
 uneasiness, but serves to strengthen a bad habit; 
 for every fault (particularly a fault of the tem- 
 per) is increased by exercise ; and trifles, which 
 might have been immediately forgotten, are kept 
 up, by being taken notice of, till they become 
 real evils. 
 
 There is indeed something particularly unge- 
 nerous in this conduct ; it is like a robbery com- 
 mitted in breach of trust: and not only the 
 benevolent, but the honest heart must be shocked 
 at it. To say it is deserved, is no excuse: a 
 punishment may often be deserved, but it can 
 never be a pleasure to a benevolent heart to in- 
 flict it. 
 
 But it is impossible to enter into a particular 
 detail of the conduct which this sincere polite- 
 284
 
 MISCELLANEOLS OBSERVATIONS. 
 
 ness would inspire on every occasion. Its motive 
 remaining- always the same, the manner of ex- 
 pressing it will readily be varied as different cir- 
 cumstances may require ; it will observe forms, 
 where a neglect of them would give offence ; it 
 will be gentle, mild, and unaffected, at all 
 times ; compassionate, and tenderly attentive to 
 the afflicted ; indulgent to the weak, and ready, 
 not only to bear with them without impatience, 
 but to give them all possible assistance. Ever 
 disposed to make the best of all, and easy, cheer- 
 ful, and even playful in familiar intercourse, on 
 suitable occasions ; since, far from being a re- 
 straint upon the freedom of society, it is indeed 
 the only way of throwing aside all restraint, 
 without introducing any bad consequences by 
 doing so. 
 
 It needs no artifice or disguise ; it pursues no 
 sinister aims, no selfish views; but seeks the real 
 good of all, endeavours to express what it feels, 
 and to appear such as it truly is. 
 
 How pleasing were general society, if such 
 285
 
 MISCELLANEOUS OBSERVATIONS. 
 
 a disposition prevailed ! How delightful all 
 family intercourse, if it were never laid aside ! 
 Even friendship itself cannot be completely hap- 
 py without it : even real affection will not always 
 supply its place. It is an universal charm, 
 which embellishes every pleasure in social life, 
 prevents numberless uneasinesses and disgusts, 
 which so often disturb its peace, and softens 
 those which it cannot entirely prevent. It adds 
 lustre to every good and valuable quality, and in 
 some degree will atone for many faults, and pre- 
 vent their bad effects. 
 
 But it may be asked, how is this quality to be 
 attained 1 And it must indeed be owned, that to 
 possess it in its utmost perfection, requires a 
 very superior degree both of delicacy and good 
 sense, with which all are not endued. But this 
 should never discourage any from the endeavour; 
 for all may improve their talents, if they will 
 exert them ; and, by aiming at perfection, may 
 make continual advances towards it. Every 
 good quality is best understood by endeavouring 
 286
 
 MISCELLANEOUS OBSERVATIONS. 
 
 to practise it. Let us consider wiiat conduct the 
 sentiments described would dictate on every dif- 
 ferent occasion ; let us endeavour to form to our- 
 selves the best notion of it we are able, and 
 then watch for opportunities to put it in practice. 
 Such an attention will discover many which 
 were overlooked before : it will show us where 
 we have been wanting, and to what cause it 
 hath been owing ; and point out to us those quali- 
 ties in which w^e are deficient, and which we 
 ought to endeavour to cultivate with the greatest 
 care. Our sphere of action will be enlarged, 
 and many things, too generally considered as 
 matters of indifference, will become objects of 
 attention, and afford means of improving our- 
 selves, and benefiting others. Nothing will be 
 neglected as trifling, if it can do this even in the 
 smallest degree, since in that view even trifles 
 become valuable. Our ideas of excellence will 
 be raised by continually aiming at it, and the 
 heart improved by the thoughts of being thus 
 ep'.ployed. 
 
 287
 
 MISCELLA.NEOUS OBSERVATIONS. 
 
 Above all, let us subdue those passions which 
 so often oppose what reason approves, and which 
 would afford the truest pleasures to the heart ; 
 and let us fix all that is good and amiable on the 
 only sure and immoveable foundation — the pre- 
 cepts of that religion, which alone can teach us 
 constant, universal, and disinterested benevo- 
 lence. 
 
 THE END.
 
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