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THE
GENTLEMEN'S BOOK OF ETIQUETTE,
AND
MANUAL OF POLITENESS;
BEING
A COMPLETE GUIDE FOR A GENTLEMAN'S CONDUCT IN ALL
HIS RELATIONS TOWARDS SOCIETY.
CONTAINING
RULES FOR THE ETIQUETTE TO BE OBSERVED IN THE STREET, AT
TABLE, IN THE BALL ROOM, EVENING PARTY, AND MORNING
CALL; WITH FULL DIRECTIONS FOR POLITE CORRESPONDENCE,
DRESS, CONVERSATION, MANLY EXERCISES,
AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS.
FROM THE BEST FRENCH, ENGLISH, AND AMERICAN AUTHORITIES.
BY
CECIL B. HARTLEY.
BOSTON:
G. W. COTTRELL, PUBLISHER,
36 CORNHILL.
Entered according to the Act of Congress, in the year 1860, by
G. G. EVANS,
in the Clerk's Office of the District Court for the Eastern District of
Pennsylvania.
INTRODUCTION.
Man was not intended to live like a bear or a hermit, apart from others
of his own nature, and, philosophy and reason will each agree with me,
that man was born for sociability and finds his true delight in society.
Society is a word capable of many meanings, and used here in each and
all of them. Society, _par excellence_; the world at large; the little
clique to which he is bound by early ties; the companionship of friends
or relatives; even society _tete a tete_ with one dear sympathizing
soul, are pleasant states for a man to be in.
Taking the word in its most extended view, it is the world; but in the
light we wish to impress in our book it is the smaller world of the
changing, pleasant intercourse of each city or town in which our reader
may chance to abide.
This society, composed, as it is, of many varying natures and elements,
where each individual must submit to merge his own identity into the
universal whole, which makes the word and state, is divided and
subdivided into various cliques, and has a pastime for every
disposition, grave or gay; and with each division rises up a new set of
forms and ceremonies to be observed if you wish to glide down the
current of polite life, smoothly and pleasantly.
The young man who makes his first entrance into the world of society,
should know how to choose his friends, and next how to conduct himself
towards them. Experience is, of course, the best guide, but at first
starting this must come second hand, from an older friend, or from
books.
A judicious friend is the best guide; but how is the young man to know
whom to choose? When at home this friend is easily selected; but in this
country, where each bird leaves the parent nest as soon as his wings
will bear him safely up, there are but few who stay amongst the friends
at home.
Next then comes the instruction from books.
True a book will not fully supply the place either of experience or
friendly advice, still it may be made useful, and, carefully written
from the experience of heads grown gray in society, with only well
authenticated rules, it will be a guide not to be despised by the young
aspirant for favor in polite and refined circles.
You go into society from mixed motives; partly for pleasure, recreation
after the fatigues of your daily duties, and partly that you may become
known. In a republican country where one man's opportunities for rising
are as good as those of another, ambition will lead every rising man
into society.
You may set it down as a rule, that as you treat the world, so the world
will treat you. Carry into the circles of society a refined, polished
manner, and an amiable desire to please, and it will meet you with
smiling grace, and lead you forward pleasantly along the flowery paths;
go, on the contrary, with a brusque, rude manner, startling all the
silky softness before you with cut and thrust remarks, carrying only
the hard realities of life in your hand, and you will find society armed
to meet you, showing only sharp corners and thorny places for your
blundering footsteps to stumble against.
You will find in every circle that etiquette holds some sway; her rule
is despotic in some places, in others mild, and easily set aside. Your
first lesson in society will be to study where she reigns supreme, in
her crown and holding her sceptre, and where she only glides in with a
gentle hint or so, and timidly steps out if rebuked; and let your
conduct be governed by the result of your observations. You will soon
become familiar with the signs, and tell on your first entrance into a
room whether kid gloves and exquisite finish of manner will be
appropriate, or whether it is "hail, fellow, well met" with the inmates.
Remember, however, "once a gentleman always a gentleman," and be sure
that you can so carry out the rule, that in your most careless, joyous
moments, when freest from the restraints of etiquette, you can still be
recognizable as a _gentleman_ by every act, word, or look.
Avoid too great a restraint of manner. Stiffness is not politeness, and,
while you observe every rule, you may appear to heed none. To make your
politeness part of yourself, inseparable from every action, is the
height of gentlemanly elegance and finish of manner.
CONTENTS.
PAGE
INTRODUCTION 3
CHAPTER I.
CONVERSATION 11
CHAPTER II.
POLITENESS 31
CHAPTER III.
TABLE ETIQUETTE 50
CHAPTER IV.
ETIQUETTE IN THE STREET 66
CHAPTER V.
ETIQUETTE FOR CALLING 75
CHAPTER VI.
ETIQUETTE FOR THE BALL ROOM 91
CHAPTER VII.
DRESS 116
CHAPTER VIII.
MANLY EXERCISES 154
CHAPTER IX.
TRAVELING 176
CHAPTER X.
ETIQUETTE IN CHURCH 183
CHAPTER XI.
ONE HUNDRED HINTS FOR GENTLEMANLY DEPORTMENT 186
CHAPTER XII.
PARTIES 222
CHAPTER XIII.
COURTESY AT HOME 228
CHAPTER XIV.
TRUE COURTESY 244
CHAPTER XV.
LETTER WRITING 252
CHAPTER XVI.
WEDDING ETIQUETTE 280
CHAPTER XVII.
ETIQUETTE FOR PLACES OF AMUSEMENT 294
CHAPTER XVIII.
MISCELLANEOUS 298
GENTLEMEN'S BOOK OF ETIQUETTE.
CHAPTER I.
CONVERSATION.
One of the first rules for a guide in polite conversation, is to avoid
political or religious discussions in general society. Such discussions
lead almost invariably to irritating differences of opinion, often to
open quarrels, and a coolness of feeling which might have been avoided
by dropping the distasteful subject as soon as marked differences of
opinion arose. It is but one out of many that can discuss either
political or religious differences, with candor and judgment, and yet so
far control his language and temper as to avoid either giving or taking
offence.
In their place, in circles which have met for such discussions, in a
_tête à tête_ conversation, in a small party of gentlemen where each is
ready courteously to listen to the others, politics may be discussed
with perfect propriety, but in the drawing-room, at the dinner-table, or
in the society of ladies, these topics are best avoided.
If you are drawn into such a discussion without intending to be so, be
careful that your individual opinion does not lead you into language
and actions unbecoming a gentleman. Listen courteously to those whose
opinions do not agree with yours, and _keep your temper_. A man in a
passion ceases to be a gentleman.
Even if convinced that your opponent is utterly wrong, yield gracefully,
decline further discussion, or dextrously turn the conversation, but do
not obstinately defend your own opinion until you become angry, or more
excited than is becoming to a gentleman.
Many there are who, giving their opinion, not as an _opinion_ but as a
_law_, will defend their position by such phrases, as: "Well, if _I_
were president, or governor, I would," &c.--and while by the warmth of
their argument they prove that they are utterly unable to govern their
own temper, they will endeavor to persuade you that they are perfectly
competent to take charge of the government of the nation.
Retain, if you will, a fixed political opinion, yet do not parade it
upon all occasions, and, above all, do not endeavor to _force_ others to
agree with you. Listen calmly to their ideas upon the same subjects, and
if you cannot agree, differ politely, and while your opponent may set
you down as a bad politician, let him be obliged to admit that you are a
_gentleman_.
Wit and vivacity are two highly important ingredients in the
conversation of a man in polite society, yet a straining for effect, or
forced wit, is in excessively bad taste. There is no one more
insupportable in society than the everlasting talkers who scatter puns,
witticisms, and jokes with so profuse a hand that they become as
tiresome as a comic newspaper, and whose loud laugh at their own wit
drowns other voices which might speak matter more interesting. The
really witty man does not shower forth his wit so indiscriminately; his
charm consists in wielding his powerful weapon delicately and easily,
and making each highly polished witticism come in the right place and
moment to be effectual. While real wit is a most delightful gift, and
its use a most charming accomplishment, it is, like many other bright
weapons, dangerous to use too often. You may wound where you meant only
to amuse, and remarks which you mean only in for general applications,
may be construed into personal affronts, so, if you have the gift, use
it wisely, and not too freely.
The most important requisite for a good conversational power is
education, and, by this is meant, not merely the matter you may store in
your memory from observation or books, though this is of vast
importance, but it also includes the developing of the mental powers,
and, above all, the comprehension. An English writer says, "A man should
be able, in order to enter into conversation, to catch rapidly the
meaning of anything that is advanced; for instance, though you know
nothing of science, you should not be obliged to stare and be silent,
when a man who does understand it is explaining a new discovery or a new
theory; though you have not read a word of Blackstone, your
comprehensive powers should be sufficiently acute to enable you to take
in the statement that may be made of a recent cause; though you may not
have read some particular book, you should be capable of appreciating
the criticism which you hear of it. Without such power--simple enough,
and easily attained by attention and practice, yet too seldom met with
in general society--a conversation which departs from the most ordinary
topics cannot be maintained without the risk of lapsing into a lecture;
with such power, society becomes instructive as well as amusing, and you
have no remorse at an evening's end at having wasted three or four hours
in profitless banter, or simpering platitudes. This facility of
comprehension often startles us in some women, whose education we know
to have been poor, and whose reading is limited. If they did not rapidly
receive your ideas, they could not, therefore, be fit companions for
intellectual men, and it is, perhaps, their consciousness of a
deficiency which leads them to pay the more attention to what you say.
It is this which makes married women so much more agreeable to men of
thought than young ladies, as a rule, can be, for they are accustomed to
the society of a husband, and the effort to be a companion to his mind
has engrafted the habit of attention and ready reply."
The same author says: "No less important is the cultivation of taste. If
it is tiresome and deadening to be with people who cannot understand,
and will not even appear to be interested in your better thoughts, it is
almost repulsive to find a man insensible to all beauty, and immovable
by any horror.
"In the present day an acquaintance with art, even if you have no love
for it, is a _sine quâ non_ of good society. Music and painting are
subjects which will be discussed in every direction around you. It is
only in bad society that people go to the opera, concerts, and
art-exhibitions merely because it is the fashion, or to say they have
been there; and if you confessed to such a weakness in really good
society, you would be justly voted a puppy. For this, too, some book
knowledge is indispensable. You should at least know the names of the
more celebrated artists, composers, architects, sculptors, and so forth,
and should be able to approximate their several schools.
"So too, you should know pretty accurately the pronunciation of
celebrated names, or, if not, take care not to use them. It will never
do to be ignorant of the names and approximate ages of great composers,
especially in large cities, where music is so highly appreciated and so
common a theme. It will be decidedly condemnatory if you talk of the
_new_ opera 'Don Giovanni,' or _Rossini's_ 'Trovatore,' or are ignorant
who composed 'Fidelio,' and in what opera occur such common pieces as
'_Ciascun lo dice_,' or '_Il segreto_.' I do not say that these trifles
are indispensable, and when a man has better knowledge to offer,
especially with genius or 'cleverness' to back it, he will not only be
pardoned for an ignorance of them, but can even take a high tone, and
profess indifference or contempt of them. But, at the same time, such
ignorance stamps an ordinary man, and hinders conversation. On the other
hand the best society will not endure dilettantism, and, whatever the
knowledge a man may possess of any art, he must not display it so as to
make the ignorance of others painful to them. But this applies to every
topic. To have only one or two subjects to converse on, and to discourse
rather than talk on them, is always ill-bred, whether the theme be
literature or horseflesh. The gentleman jockey will probably denounce
the former as a 'bore,' and call us pedants for dwelling on it; but if,
as is too often the case, he can give us nothing more general than the
discussion of the 'points' of a horse that, perhaps, we have never seen,
he is as great a pedant in his way.
"_Reason_ plays a less conspicuous part in good society because its
frequenters are too reasonable to be mere reasoners. A disputation is
always dangerous to temper, and tedious to those who cannot feel as
eager as the disputants; a discussion, on the other hand, in which every
body has a chance of stating amicably and unobtrusively his or her
opinion, must be of frequent occurrence. But to cultivate the reason,
besides its high moral value, has the advantage of enabling one to reply
as well as attend to the opinions of others. Nothing is more tedious or
disheartening than a perpetual, 'Yes, just so,' and nothing more.
Conversation must never be one-sided. Then, again, the reason enables us
to support a fancy or an opinion, when we are asked _why_ we think so.
To reply, 'I don't know, but still I think so,' is silly and tedious.
"But there is a part of our education so important and so neglected in
our schools and colleges, that it cannot be too highly impressed on the
young man who proposes to enter society. I mean that which we learn
first of all things, yet often have not learned fully when death eases
us of the necessity--the art of speaking our own language. What can
Greek and Latin, French and German be for us in our every-day life, if
we have not acquired this? We are often encouraged to raise a laugh at
Doctor Syntax and the tyranny of Grammar, but we may be certain that
more misunderstandings, and, therefore, more difficulties arise between
men in the commonest intercourse from a want of grammatical precision
than from any other cause. It was once the fashion to neglect grammar,
as it now is with certain people to write illegibly, and, in the days of
Goethe, a man thought himself a genius if he could spell badly.
"Precision and accuracy must begin in the very outset; and if we neglect
them in grammar, we shall scarcely acquire them in expressing our
thoughts. But since there is no society without interchange of thought,
and since the best society is that in which the best thoughts are
interchanged in the best and most comprehensible manner, it follows that
a proper mode of expressing ourselves is indispensable in good society.
"The art of expressing one's thoughts neatly and suitably is one which,
in the neglect of rhetoric as a study, we must practice for ourselves.
The commonest thought well put is more useful in a social point of view,
than the most brilliant idea jumbled out. What is well expressed is
easily seized, and therefore readily responded to; the most poetic fancy
may be lost to the hearer, if the language which conveys it is obscure.
Speech is the gift which distinguishes man from animals, and makes
society possible. He has but a poor appreciation of his high privilege
as a human being, who neglects to cultivate, 'God's great gift of
speech.'
"As I am not writing for men of genius, but for ordinary beings, I am
right to state that an indispensable part of education is a knowledge of
the literature of the English language. But _how_ to read, is, for
society more important than _what_ we read. The man who takes up nothing
but a newspaper, but reads it to _think_, to deduct conclusions from its
premises, and form a judgment on its opinions, is more fitted for
society than he, who having all the current literature and devoting his
whole time to its perusal, swallows it all without digestion. In fact,
the mind must be treated like the body, and however great its appetite,
it will soon fall into bad health if it gorges, but does not ruminate.
At the same time an acquaintance with the best current literature is
necessary to modern society, and it is not sufficient to have read a
book without being able to pass a judgment upon it. Conversation on
literature is impossible, when your respondent can only say, 'Yes. I
like the book, but I really don't know why.'
"An acquaintance with old English literature is not perhaps
indispensable, but it gives a man great advantage in all kinds of
society, and in some he is at a constant loss without it. The same may
be said of foreign literature, which in the present day is almost as
much discussed as our own; but, on the other hand, an acquaintance with
home and foreign politics, with current history, and subjects of passing
interest, is absolutely necessary; and a person of sufficient
intelligence to join in good society, cannot dispense with his daily
newspaper, his literary journal, and the principal reviews and
magazines. The cheapness of every kind of literature, the facilities of
our well stored circulating libraries, our public reading rooms, and
numerous excellent lectures on every possible subject, leave no excuse
to poor or rich for an ignorance of any of the topics discussed in
intellectual society. You may forget your Latin, Greek, French, German,
and Mathematics, but if you frequent good company, you will never be
allowed to forget that you are a citizen of the world."
A man of real intelligence and cultivated mind, is generally modest. He
may feel when in every day society, that in intellectual acquirements he
is above those around him; but he will not seek to make his companions
feel their inferiority, nor try to display this advantage over them. He
will discuss with frank simplicity the topics started by others, and
endeavor to avoid starting such as they will not feel inclined to
discuss. All that he says will be marked by politeness and deference to
the feelings and opinions of others.
La Bruyere says, "The great charm of conversation consists less in the
display of one's own wit and intelligence, than in the power to draw
forth the resources of others; he who leaves you after a long
conversation, pleased with himself and the part he has taken in the
discourse, will be your warmest admirer. Men do not care to admire you,
they wish you to be pleased with them; they do not seek for instruction
or even amusement from your discourse, but they do wish you to be made
acquainted with their talents and powers of conversation; and the true
man of genius will delicately make all who come in contact with him,
feel the exquisite satisfaction of knowing that they have appeared to
advantage."
Having admitted the above to be an incontestable fact, you will also see
that it is as great an accomplishment to listen with an air of interest
and attention, as it is to speak well.
To be a good listener is as indispensable as to be a good talker, and it
is in the character of listener that you can most readily detect the man
who is accustomed to good society. Nothing is more embarrassing to any
one who is speaking, than to perceive signs of weariness or inattention
in the person whom he addresses.
Never interrupt any one who is speaking; it is quite as rude to
officiously supply a name or date about which another hesitates, unless
you are asked to do so. Another gross breach of etiquette, is to
anticipate the point of a story which another person is reciting, or to
take it from his lips to finish it in your own language. Some persons
plead as an excuse for this breach of etiquette, that the reciter was
spoiling a good story by a bad manner, but this does not mend the
matter. It is surely rude to give a man to understand that you do not
consider him capable of finishing an anecdote that he has commenced.
It is ill-bred to put on an air of weariness during a long speech from
another person, and quite as rude to look at a watch, read a letter,
flirt the leaves of a book, or in any other action show that you are
tired of the speaker or his subject.
In a general conversation, never speak when another person is speaking,
and never try by raising your own voice to drown that of another. Never
assume an air of haughtiness, or speak in a dictatorial manner; let your
conversation be always amiable and frank, free from every affectation.
Put yourself on the same level as the person to whom you speak, and
under penalty of being considered a pedantic idiot, refraining from
explaining any expression or word that you may use.
Never, unless you are requested to do so, speak of your own business or
profession in society; to confine your conversation entirely to the
subject or pursuit which is your own speciality is low-bred and vulgar.
Make the subject for conversation suit the company in which you are
placed. Joyous, light conversation will be at times as much out of
place, as a sermon would be at a dancing party. Let your conversation be
grave or gay as suits the time or place.
In a dispute, if you cannot reconcile the parties, withdraw from them.
You will surely make one enemy, perhaps two, by taking either side, in
an argument when the speakers have lost their temper.
Never gesticulate in every day conversation, unless you wish to be
mistaken for a fifth rate comedian.
Never ask any one who is conversing with you to repeat his words.
Nothing is ruder than to say, "Pardon me, will you repeat that
sentence--I did not hear you at first," and thus imply that your
attention was wandering when he first spoke.
Never, during a general conversation, endeavor to concentrate the
attention wholly upon yourself. It is quite as rude to enter into
conversation with one of a group, and endeavor to draw him out of the
circle of general conversation to talk with you alone.
Never listen to the conversation of two persons who have thus withdrawn
from a group. If they are so near you that you cannot avoid hearing
them, you may, with perfect propriety, change your seat.
Make your own share in conversation as modest and brief as is consistent
with the subject under consideration, and avoid long speeches and
tedious stories. If, however, another, particularly an old man, tells a
long story, or one that is not new to you, listen respectfully until he
has finished, before you speak again.
Speak of yourself but little. Your friends will find out your virtues
without forcing you to tell them, and you may feel confident that it is
equally unnecessary to expose your faults yourself.
If you submit to flattery, you must also submit to the imputation of
folly and self-conceit.
In speaking of your friends, do not compare them, one with another.
Speak of the merits of each one, but do not try to heighten the virtues
of one by contrasting them with the vices of another.
No matter how absurd are the anecdotes that may be told in your
presence, you must never give any sign of incredulity. They may be true;
and even if false, good breeding forces you to hear them with polite
attention, and the appearance of belief. To show by word or sign any
token of incredulity, is to give the lie to the narrator, and that is an
unpardonable insult.
Avoid, in conversation all subjects which can injure the absent. A
gentleman will never calumniate or listen to calumny.
Need I say that no gentleman will ever soil his mouth with an oath.
Above all, to swear in a drawing-room or before ladies is not only
indelicate and vulgar in the extreme, but evinces a shocking ignorance
of the rules of polite society and good breeding.
For a long time the world has adopted a certain form of speech which is
used in good society, and which changing often, is yet one of the
distinctive marks of a gentleman. A word or even a phrase which has been
used among the most refined circles, will, sometimes, by a sudden freak
of fashion, from being caricatured in a farce or song, or from some
other cause, go entirely out of use. Nothing but habitual intercourse
with people of refinement and education, and mingling in general
society, will teach a gentleman what words to use and what to avoid. Yet
there are some words which are now entirely out of place in a parlor.
Avoid a declamatory style; some men, before speaking, will wave their
hands as if commanding silence, and, having succeeded in obtaining the
attention of the company, will speak in a tone, and style, perfectly
suitable for the theatre or lecture room, but entirely out of place in a
parlor. Such men entirely defeat the object of society, for they resent
interruption, and, as their talk flows in a constant stream, no one else
can speak without interrupting the pompous idiot who thus endeavors to
engross the entire attention of the circle around him.
This character will be met with constantly, and generally joins to the
other disagreeable traits an egotism as tiresome as it is ill-bred.
The wittiest man becomes tedious and ill-bred when he endeavors to
engross entirely the attention of the company in which he should take a
more modest part.
Avoid set phrases, and use quotations but rarely. They sometimes make a
very piquant addition to conversation, but when they become a constant
habit, they are exceedingly tedious, and in bad taste.
Avoid pedantry; it is a mark, not of intelligence, but stupidity.
Speak your own language correctly; at the same time do not be too great
a stickler for formal correctness of phrases.
Never notice it if others make mistakes in language. To notice by word
or look such errors in those around you, is excessively ill-bred.
Vulgar language and slang, though in common, unfortunately too common
use, are unbecoming in any one who pretends to be a gentleman. Many of
the words heard now in the parlor and drawing-room, derive their origin
from sources which a gentleman would hesitate to mention before ladies,
yet he will make daily use of the offensive word or phrase.
If you are a professional or scientific man, avoid the use of technical
terms. They are in bad taste, because many will not understand them. If,
however, you unconsciously use such a term or phrase, do not then commit
the still greater error of explaining its meaning. No one will thank you
for thus implying their ignorance.
In conversing with a foreigner who speaks imperfect English, listen with
strict attention, yet do not supply a word, or phrase, if he hesitates.
Above all, do not by a word or gesture show impatience if he makes
pauses or blunders. If you understand his language, say so when you
first speak to him; this is not making a display of your own knowledge,
but is a kindness, as a foreigner will be pleased to hear and speak his
own language when in a strange country.
Be careful in society never to play the part of buffoon, for you will
soon become known as the "funny" man of the party, and no character is
so perilous to your dignity as a gentleman. You lay yourself open to
both censure and ridicule, and you may feel sure that, for every person
who laughs with you, two are laughing at you, and for one who admires
you, two will watch your antics with secret contempt.
Avoid boasting. To speak of your money, connections, or the luxuries at
your command is in very bad taste. It is quite as ill-bred to boast of
your intimacy with distinguished people. If their names occur naturally
in the course of conversation, it is very well; but to be constantly
quoting, "my friend, Gov. C----," or "my intimate friend, the
president," is pompous and in bad taste.
While refusing the part of jester yourself, do not, by stiff manners, or
cold, contemptuous looks, endeavor to check the innocent mirth of
others. It is in excessively bad taste to drag in a grave subject of
conversation when pleasant, bantering talk is going on around you. Join
in pleasantly and forget your graver thoughts for the time, and you will
win more popularity than if you chill the merry circle or turn their
innocent gayety to grave discussions.
When thrown into the society of literary people, do not question them
about their works. To speak in terms of admiration of any work to the
author is in bad taste; but you may give pleasure, if, by a quotation
from their writings, or a happy reference to them, you prove that you
have read and appreciated them.
It is extremely rude and pedantic, when engaged in general conversation,
to make quotations in a foreign language.
To use phrases which admit of a double meaning, is ungentlemanly, and,
if addressed to a lady, they become positively insulting.
If you find you are becoming angry in a conversation, either turn to
another subject or keep silence. You may utter, in the heat of passion,
words which you would never use in a calmer moment, and which you would
bitterly repent when they were once said.
"Never talk of ropes to a man whose father was hanged" is a vulgar but
popular proverb. Avoid carefully subjects which may be construed into
personalities, and keep a strict reserve upon family matters. Avoid, if
you can, seeing the skeleton in your friend's closet, but if it is
paraded for your special benefit, regard it as a sacred confidence, and
never betray your knowledge to a third party.
If you have traveled, although you will endeavor to improve your mind in
such travel, do not be constantly speaking of your journeyings. Nothing
is more tiresome than a man who commences every phrase with, "When I was
in Paris," or, "In Italy I saw----."
When asking questions about persons who are not known to you, in a
drawing-room, avoid using adjectives; or you may enquire of a mother,
"Who is that awkward, ugly girl?" and be answered, "Sir, that is my
daughter."
Avoid gossip; in a woman it is detestable, but in a man it is utterly
despicable.
Do not officiously offer assistance or advice in general society. Nobody
will thank you for it.
Ridicule and practical joking are both marks of a vulgar mind and low
breeding.
Avoid flattery. A delicate compliment is permissible in conversation,
but flattery is broad, coarse, and to sensible people, disgusting. If
you flatter your superiors, they will distrust you, thinking you have
some selfish end; if you flatter ladies, they will despise you, thinking
you have no other conversation.
A lady of sense will feel more complimented if you converse with her
upon instructive, high subjects, than if you address to her only the
language of compliment. In the latter case she will conclude that you
consider her incapable of discussing higher subjects, and you cannot
expect her to be pleased at being considered merely a silly, vain
person, who must be flattered into good humor.
Avoid the evil of giving utterance to inflated expressions and remarks
in common conversation.
It is a somewhat ungrateful task to tell those who would shrink from the
imputation of a falsehood that they are in the daily habit of uttering
untruths; and yet, if I proceed, no other course than this can be taken
by me. It is of no use to adopt half measures; plain speaking saves a
deal of trouble.
The examples about to be given by me of exaggerated expressions, are
only a few of the many that are constantly in use. Whether you can
acquit yourselves of the charge of occasionally using them, I cannot
tell; but I dare not affirm for myself that I am altogether guiltless.
"I was caught in the wet last night, the rain came down in torrents."
Most of us have been out in heavy rains; but a torrent of water pouring
down from the skies would a little surprise us, after all.
"I am wet to the skin, and have not a dry thread upon me." Where these
expressions are once used correctly, they are used twenty times in
opposition to the truth.
"I tried to overtake him, but in vain; for he ran like lightning." The
celebrated racehorse Eclipse is said to have run a mile in a minute, but
poor Eclipse is left sadly behind by this expression.
"He kept me standing out in the cold so long, I thought I should have
waited for ever." There is not a particle of probability that such a
thought could have been for one moment entertained.
"As I came across the common, the wind was as keen as a razor." This is
certainly a very keen remark, but the worst of it is that its keenness
far exceeds its correctness.
"I went to the meeting, but had hard work to get in; for the place was
crowded to suffocation." In this case, in justice to the veracity of the
relater, it is necessary to suppose that successful means had been used
for his recovery.
"It must have been a fine sight; I would have given the world to have
seen it." Fond as most of us are of sight-seeing, this would be buying
pleasure at a dear price indeed; but it is an easy thing to proffer to
part with that which we do not possess.
"It made me quite low spirited; my heart felt as heavy as lead." We most
of us know what a heavy heart is; but lead is by no means the most
correct metaphor to use in speaking of a heavy heart.
"I could hardly find my way, for the night was as dark as pitch." I am
afraid we have all in our turn calumniated the sky in this manner; pitch
is many shades darker than the darkest night we have ever known.
"I have told him of that fault fifty times over." Five times would, in
all probability, be much nearer the fact than fifty.
"I never closed my eyes all night long." If this be true, you acted
unwisely; for had you closed your eyes, you might, perhaps, have fallen
asleep, and enjoyed the blessing of refreshing slumber; if it be not
true, you acted more unwisely still, by stating that as a fact which is
altogether untrue.
"He is as tall as a church-spire." I have met with some tall fellows in
my time, though the spire of a church is somewhat taller than the
tallest of them.
"You may buy a fish at the market as big as a jackass, for five
shillings." I certainly have my doubts about this matter; but if it be
really true, the market people must be jackasses indeed to sell such
large fishes for so little money.
"He was so fat he could hardly come in at the door." Most likely the
difficulty here alluded to was never felt by any one but the relater;
supposing it to be otherwise, the man must have been very broad or the
door very narrow.
"You don't say so!--why, it was enough to kill him!" The fact that it
did not kill him is a sufficient reply to this unfounded observation;
but no remark can be too absurd for an unbridled tongue.
Thus might I run on for an hour, and after all leave much unsaid on the
subject of exaggerated expressions. We are hearing continually the
comparisons, "black as soot, white as snow, hot as fire, cold as ice,
sharp as a needle, dull as a door-nail, light as a feather, heavy as
lead, stiff as a poker, and crooked as a crab-tree," in cases where such
expressions are quite out of order.
The practice of expressing ourselves in this inflated and thoughtless
way, is more mischievous than we are aware of. It certainly leads us to
sacrifice truth; to misrepresent what we mean faithfully to describe; to
whiten our own characters, and sometimes to blacken the reputation of a
neighbor. There is an uprightness in speech as well as in action, that
we ought to strive hard to attain. The purity of truth is sullied, and
the standard of integrity is lowered, by incorrect observations. Let us
reflect upon this matter freely and faithfully. Let us love truth,
follow truth, and practice truth in our thoughts, our words, and our
deeds.