[Illustration: A BRIDE'S BOUQUET
"THE RADIANCE OF A TRULY HAPPY BRIDE IS SO BEAUTIFYING THAT EVEN A PLAIN
GIRL IS MADE PRETTY, AND A PRETTY ONE, DIVINE." [Page 373.]]
=ETIQUETTE=
IN SOCIETY, IN BUSINESS, IN POLITICS
AND AT HOME
=BY EMILY POST=
(MRS. PRICE POST)
Author of "Purple and Fine Linen," "The Title Market," "Woven in the
Tapestry," "The Flight of a Moth," "Letters of a Worldly
Godmother," etc., etc.
ILLUSTRATED WITH PRIVATE PHOTOGRAPHS
AND FACSIMILES OF SOCIAL FORMS
FUNK & WAGNALLS COMPANY
=NEW YORK AND LONDON=
1922
By
FUNK & WAGNALLS COMPANY
[Printed in the United States of America]
First Edition published in July 1922
Second Edition published in September, 1922
August 11, 1910.
TO YOU MY FRIENDS
WHOSE IDENTITY IN THESE PAGES
IS VEILED IN FICTIONAL DISGUISE
IT IS BUT FITTING THAT
I DEDICATE THIS BOOK.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER
INTRODUCTION
I. WHAT IS BEST SOCIETY?
II. INTRODUCTIONS
III. GREETINGS
IV. SALUTATIONS OF COURTESY
V. ON THE STREET AND IN PUBLIC
VI. AT PUBLIC GATHERINGS
VII. CONVERSATION
VIII. WORDS, PHRASES AND PRONUNCIATION
IX. ONE'S POSITION IN THE COMMUNITY
X. CARDS AND VISITS
XI. INVITATIONS, ACCEPTANCES AND REGRETS
XII. THE WELL-APPOINTED HOUSE
XIII. TEAS AND OTHER AFTERNOON PARTIES
XIV. FORMAL DINNERS
XV. DINNER-GIVING WITH LIMITED EQUIPMENT
XVI. LUNCHEONS, BREAKFASTS AND SUPPERS
XVII. BALLS AND DANCES
XVIII. THE DÉBUTANTE
XIX. THE CHAPERON AND OTHER CONVENTIONS
XX. ENGAGEMENTS
XXI. FIRST PREPARATIONS BEFORE A WEDDING
XXII. THE DAY OF THE WEDDING
XXIII. CHRISTENINGS
XXIV. FUNERALS
XXV. THE COUNTRY HOUSE AND ITS HOSPITALITY
XXVI. THE HOUSE PARTY IN CAMP
XXVII. NOTES AND SHORTER LETTERS
XXVIII. LONGER LETTERS
XXIX. THE FUNDAMENTALS OF GOOD BEHAVIOR
XXX. CLUBS AND CLUB ETIQUETTE
XXXI. GAMES AND SPORTS
XXXII. ETIQUETTE IN BUSINESS AND POLITICS
XXXIII. DRESS
XXXIV. THE CLOTHES OF A GENTLEMAN
XXXV. THE KINDERGARTEN OF ETIQUETTE
XXXVI. EVERY-DAY MANNERS AT HOME
XXXVII. TRAVELING AT HOME AND ABROAD
XXXVIII. THE GROWTH OF GOOD TASTE IN AMERICA
PHOTOGRAPHIC ILLUSTRATIONS
A BRIDE'S BOUQUET
A GEM OF A HOUSE
THE PERSONALITY OF A HOUSE
CONSIDERATION FOR SERVANTS
THE AFTERNOON TEA-TABLE
A FORMAL DINNER
DETAIL OF PLACE AT A FORMAL DINNER
A DINNER SERVICE WITHOUT SILVER
THE MOST ELABORATE DINNER DANCE EVER GIVEN IN NEW YORK
A CHURCH WEDDING
A HOUSE WEDDING
THE IDEAL GUEST ROOM
A BREAKFAST TRAY
THE CHILD AT TABLE
INTRODUCTION
MANNERS AND MORALS
By
Richard Duffy
Many who scoff at a book of etiquette would be shocked to hear the least
expression of levity touching the Ten Commandments. But the Commandments
do not always prevent such virtuous scoffers from dealings with their
neighbor of which no gentleman could be capable and retain his claim to
the title. Though it may require ingenuity to reconcile their actions with
the Decalogue--the ingenuity is always forthcoming. There is no intention
in this remark to intimate that there is any higher rule of life than the
Ten Commandments; only it is illuminating as showing the relationship
between manners and morals, which is too often overlooked. The polished
gentleman of sentimental fiction has so long served as the type of smooth
and conscienceless depravity that urbanity of demeanor inspires distrust
in ruder minds. On the other hand, the blunt, unpolished hero of melodrama
and romantic fiction has lifted brusqueness and pushfulness to a pedestal
not wholly merited. Consequently, the kinship between conduct that keeps
us within the law and conduct that makes civilized life worthy to be
called such, deserves to be noted with emphasis. The Chinese sage,
Confucius, could not tolerate the suggestion that virtue is in itself
enough without politeness, for he viewed them as inseparable and "saw
courtesies as coming from the heart," maintaining that "when they are
practised with all the heart, a moral elevation ensues."
People who ridicule etiquette as a mass of trivial and arbitrary
conventions, "extremely troublesome to those who practise them and
insupportable to everybody else," seem to forget the long, slow progress
of social intercourse in the upward climb of man from the primeval state.
Conventions were established from the first to regulate the rights of the
individual and the tribe. They were and are the rules of the game of life
and must be followed if we would "play the game." Ages before man felt the
need of indigestion remedies, he ate his food solitary and furtive in some
corner, hoping he would not be espied by any stronger and hungrier fellow.
It was a long, long time before the habit of eating in common was
acquired; and it is obvious that the practise could not have been taken up
with safety until the individuals of the race knew enough about one
another and about the food resources to be sure that there was food
sufficient for all. When eating in common became the vogue, table manners
made their appearance and they have been waging an uphill struggle ever
since. The custom of raising the hat when meeting an acquaintance derives
from the old rule that friendly knights in accosting each other should
raise the visor for mutual recognition in amity. In the knightly years, it
must be remembered, it was important to know whether one was meeting
friend or foe. Meeting a foe meant fighting on the spot. Thus, it is
evident that the conventions of courtesy not only tend to make the wheels
of life run more smoothly, but also act as safeguards in human
relationship. Imagine the Paris Peace Conference, or any of the later
conferences in Europe, without the protective armor of diplomatic
etiquette!
Nevertheless, to some the very word etiquette is an irritant. It implies a
great pother about trifles, these conscientious objectors assure us, and
trifles are unimportant. Trifles are unimportant, it is true, but then
life is made up of trifles. To those who dislike the word, it suggests all
that is finical and superfluous. It means a garish embroidery on the big
scheme of life; a clog on the forward march of a strong and courageous
nation. To such as these, the words etiquette and politeness connote
weakness and timidity. Their notion of a really polite man is a dancing
master or a man milliner. They were always willing to admit that the
French were the politest nation in Europe and equally ready to assert that
the French were the weakest and least valorous, until the war opened their
eyes in amazement. Yet, that manners and fighting can go hand in hand
appears in the following anecdote:
In the midst of the war, some French soldiers and some non-French of the
Allied forces were receiving their rations in a village back of the lines.
The non-French fighters belonged to an Army that supplied rations
plentifully. They grabbed their allotments and stood about while hastily
eating, uninterrupted by conversation or other concern. The French
soldiers took their very meager portions of food, improvised a kind of
table on the top of a flat rock, and having laid out the rations,
including the small quantity of wine that formed part of the repast, sat
down in comfort and began their meal amid a chatter of talk. One of the
non-French soldiers, all of whom had finished their large supply of food
before the French had begun eating, asked sardonically: "Why do you
fellows make such a lot of fuss over the little bit of grub they give you
to eat?" The Frenchman replied: "Well, we are making war for civilization,
are we not? Very well, we are. Therefore, we eat in a civilized way."
To the French we owe the word etiquette, and it is amusing to discover its
origin in the commonplace familiar warning--"Keep off the grass." It
happened in the reign of Louis XIV, when the gardens of Versailles were
being laid out, that the master gardener, an old Scotsman, was sorely
tried because his newly seeded lawns were being continually
trampled upon. To keep trespassers off, he put up warning signs or
tickets--_etiquettes_--on which was indicated the path along which to
pass. But the courtiers paid no attention to these directions and so the
determined Scot complained to the King in such convincing manner that His
Majesty issued an edict commanding everyone at Court to "keep within the
_etiquettes_." Gradually the term came to cover all the rules for correct
demeanor and deportment in court circles; and thus through the centuries
it has grown into use to describe the conventions sanctioned for the
purpose of smoothing personal contacts and developing tact and good
manners in social intercourse. With the decline of feudal courts and the
rise of empires of industry, much of the ceremony of life was discarded
for plain and less formal dealing. Trousers and coats supplanted doublets
and hose, and the change in costume was not more extreme than the change
in social ideas. The court ceased to be the arbiter of manners, though the
aristocracy of the land remained the high exemplar of good breeding.
Yet, even so courtly and materialistic a mind as Lord Chesterfield's
acknowledged a connection between manners and morality, of which latter
the courts of Europe seemed so sparing. In one of the famous "Letters to
His Son" he writes: "Moral virtues are the foundation of society in
general, and of friendship in particular; but attentions, manners, and
graces, both adorn and strengthen them." Again he says: "Great merit, or
great failings, will make you respected or despised; but trifles, little
attentions, mere nothings, either done or reflected, will make you either
liked or disliked, in the general run of the world." For all the wisdom
and brilliancy of his worldly knowledge, perhaps no other writer has done
so much to bring disrepute on the "manners and graces" as Lord
Chesterfield, and this, it is charged, because he debased them so heavily
by considering them merely as the machinery of a successful career. To the
moralists, the fact that the moral standards of society in Lord
Chesterfield's day were very different from those of the present era
rather adds to the odium that has become associated with his attitude. His
severest critics, however, do concede that he is candid and outspoken, and
many admit that his social strategy is widely practised even in these
days.
But the aims of the world in which he moved were routed by the onrush of
the ideals of democratic equality, fraternity, and liberty. With the
prosperity of the newer shibboleths, the old-time notion of aristocracy,
gentility, and high breeding became more and more a curio to be framed
suitably in gold and kept in the glass case of an art museum. The crashing
advance of the industrial age of gold thrust all courts and their sinuous
graces aside for the unmistakable ledger balance of the counting-house.
This new order of things had been a long time in process, when, in the
first year of this century, a distinguished English social historian, the
late The Right Honorable G.W.E. Russell, wrote: "Probably in all ages of
history men have liked money, but a hundred years ago they did not talk
about it in society.... Birth, breeding, rank, accomplishments, eminence
in literature, eminence in art, eminence in public service--all these
things still count for something in society. But when combined they are
only as the dust of the balance when weighed against the all-prevalent
power of money. The worship of the Golden Calf is the characteristic cult
of modern society." In the Elizabethan Age of mighty glory, three hundred
years before this was said, Ben Jonson had railed against money as "a thin
membrane of honor," groaning: "How hath all true reputation fallen since
money began to have any!" Now the very fact that the debasing effect of
money on the social organism has been so constantly reprehended, from
Scriptural days onward, proves the instinctive yearning of mankind for a
system of life regulated by good taste, high intelligence and sound
affections. But, it remains true that, in the succession of great
commercial epochs, coincident with the progress of modern science and
invention, _almost_ everything can be bought and sold, and so _almost_
everything is rated by the standard of money.
Yet, this standard is precisely not the ultimate test of the Christianity
on which we have been pluming ourselves through the centuries. Still, no
one can get along without money; and few of us get along very well with
what we have. At least we think so--because everybody else seems to think
that way. We Americans are members of the nation which, materially, is
the richest, most prosperous and most promising in the world. This idea is
dinned into our heads continually by foreign observers, and publicly we
"own the soft impeachment." Privately, each individual American seems
driven with the decision that he must live up to the general conception of
the nation as a whole. And he does, but in less strenuous moments he might
profitably ponder the counsel of Gladstone to his countrymen: "Let us
respect the ancient manners and recollect that, if the true soul of
chivalry has died among us, with it all that is good in society has died.
Let us cherish a sober mind; take for granted that in our best
performances there are latent many errors which in their own time will
come to light."
America, too, has her ancient manners to remember and respect; but, in the
rapid assimilation of new peoples into her economic and social organism,
more pressing concerns take up nearly all her time. The perfection of
manners by intensive cultivation of good taste, some believe, would be the
greatest aid possible to the moralists who are alarmed over the decadence
of the younger generation. Good taste may not make men or women really
virtuous, but it will often save them from what theologians call
"occasions of sin." We may note, too, that grossness in manners forms a
large proportion of the offenses that fanatical reformers foam about.
Besides grossness, there is also the meaner selfishness. Selfishness is at
the polar remove from the worldly manners of the old school, according to
which, as Dr. Pusey wrote, others were preferred to self, pain was given
to no one, no one was neglected, deference was shown to the weak and the
aged, and unconscious courtesy extended to all inferiors. Such was the
"beauty" of the old manners, which he felt consisted in "acting upon
Christian principle, and if in any case it became soulless, as apart from
Christianity, the beautiful form was there, into which the real life might
re-enter."
As a study of all that is admirable in American manners, and as a guide to
behavior in the simplest as well as the most complex requirements of life
day by day, whether we are at home or away from it, there can be no
happier choice than the present volume. It is conceived in the belief that
etiquette in its broader sense means the technique of human conduct under
all circumstances in life. Yet all minutiæ of correct manners are included
and no detail is too small to be explained, from the selection of a
visiting card to the mystery of eating corn on the cob. Matters of clothes
for men and women are treated with the same fullness of information and
accuracy of taste as are questions of the furnishing of their houses and
the training of their minds to social intercourse. But there is no
exaggeration of the minor details at the expense of the more important
spirit of personal conduct and attitude of mind. To dwell on formal
trivialities, the author holds, is like "measuring the letters of the
sign-boards by the roadside instead of profiting by the directions they
offer." She would have us know also that "it is not the people who make
small technical mistakes or even blunders, who are barred from the paths
of good society, but those of sham and pretense whose veneered vulgarity
at every step tramples the flowers in the gardens of cultivation." To her
mind the structure of etiquette is comparable to that of a house, of which
the foundation is ethics and the rest good taste, correct speech, quiet,
unassuming behavior, and a proper pride of dignity.
To such as entertain the mistaken notion that politeness implies all give
and little or no return, it is well to recall Coleridge's definition of a
gentleman: "We feel the gentlemanly character present with us," he said,
"whenever, under all circumstances of social intercourse, the trivial, not
less than the important, through the whole detail of his manners and
deportment, and with the ease of a habit, a person shows respect to others
in such a way as at the same time implies, in his own feelings, and
habitually, an assured anticipation of reciprocal respect from them to
himself. In short, the gentlemanly character arises out of the feeling of
equality acting as a habit, yet flexible to the varieties of rank, and
modified without being disturbed or superseded by them." Definitions of a
gentleman are numerous, and some of them famous; but we do not find such
copiousness for choice in definitions of a lady. Perhaps it has been
understood all along that the admirable and just characteristics of a
gentleman should of necessity be those also of a lady, with the charm of
womanhood combined. And, in these days, with the added responsibility of
the vote.
Besides the significance of this volume as an indubitable authority on
manners, it should be pointed out that as a social document, it is without
precedent in American literature. In order that we may better realize the
behavior and environment of well-bred people, the distinguished author has
introduced actual persons and places in fictional guise. They are the
persons and the places of her own world; and whether we can or can not
penetrate the incognito of the Worldlys, the Gildings, the Kindharts, the
Oldnames, and the others, is of no importance. Fictionally, they are real
enough for us to be interested and instructed in their way of living. That
they happen to move in what is known as Society is incidental, for, as the
author declares at the very outset: "Best Society is not a fellowship of
the wealthy, nor does it seek to exclude those who are not of exalted
birth; but it is an association of gentlefolk, of which good form in
speech, charm of manner, knowledge of the social amenities, and
instinctive consideration for the feelings of others, are the credentials
by which society the world over recognizes its chosen members."
The immediate fact is that the characters of this book are thoroughbred
Americans, representative of various sections of the country and free from
the slightest tinge of snobbery. Not all of them are even well-to-do, in
the postwar sense; and their devices of economy in household outlay, dress
and entertainment are a revelation in the science of ways and means. There
are parents, children, relatives and friends all passing before us in the
pageant of life from the cradle to the grave. No circumstance, from an
introduction to a wedding, is overlooked in this panorama and the
spectator has beside him a cicerone in the person of the author who clears
every doubt and answers every question. In course, the conviction grows
upon him that etiquette is no flummery of poseurs "aping the manners of
their betters," nor a code of snobs, who divide their time between licking
the boots of those above them and kicking at those below, but a system of
rules of conduct based on respect of self coupled with respect of others.
Meanwhile, to guard against conceit in his new knowledge, he may at odd
moments recall Ben Jonson's lines:
"Nor stand so much on your gentility,
Which is an airy, and mere borrowed thing,
From dead men's dust, and bones: And none of yours
Except you make, or hold it."
=ETIQUETTE=
CHAPTER I
WHAT IS BEST SOCIETY?
"Society" is an ambiguous term; it may mean much or nothing. Every human
being--unless dwelling alone in a cave--is a member of society of one sort
or another, and therefore it is well to define what is to be understood by
the term "Best Society" and why its authority is recognized. Best Society
abroad is always the oldest aristocracy; composed not so much of persons
of title, which may be new, as of those families and communities which
have for the longest period of time known highest cultivation. Our own
Best Society is represented by social groups which have had, since this is
America, widest rather than longest association with old world
cultivation. Cultivation is always the basic attribute of Best Society,
much as we hear in this country of an "Aristocracy of wealth."
To the general public a long purse is synonymous with high position--a
theory dear to the heart of the "yellow" press and eagerly fostered in the
preposterous social functions of screen drama. It is true that Best
Society is comparatively rich; it is true that the hostess of great
wealth, who constantly and lavishly entertains, will shine, at least to
the readers of the press, more brilliantly than her less affluent sister.
Yet the latter, through her quality of birth, her poise, her inimitable
distinction, is often the jewel of deeper water in the social crown of her
time.
The most advertised commodity is not always intrinsically the best, but is
sometimes merely the product of a company with plenty of money to spend on
advertising. In the same way, money brings certain people before the
public--sometimes they are persons of "quality," quite as often the
so-called "society leaders" featured in the public press do not belong to
good society at all, in spite of their many published photographs and the
energies of their press-agents. Or possibly they do belong to "smart"
society; but if too much advertised, instead of being the "queens" they
seem, they might more accurately be classified as the court jesters of
to-day.
=THE IMITATION AND THE GENUINE=
New York, more than any city in the world, unless it be Paris, loves to be
amused, thrilled and surprised all at the same time; and will accept with
outstretched hand any one who can perform this astounding feat. Do not
underestimate the ability that can achieve it: a scintillating wit, an
arresting originality, a talent for entertaining that amounts to genius,
and gold poured literally like rain, are the least requirements.
Puritan America on the other hand demanding, as a ticket of admission to
her Best Society, the qualifications of birth, manners and cultivation,
clasps her hands tight across her slim trim waist and announces severely
that New York's "Best" is, in her opinion, very "bad" indeed. But this is
because Puritan America, as well as the general public, mistakes the
jester for the queen.
As a matter of fact, Best Society is not at all like a court with an
especial queen or king, nor is it confined to any one place or group, but
might better be described as an unlimited brotherhood which spreads over
the entire surface of the globe, the members of which are invariably
people of cultivation and worldly knowledge, who have not only perfect
manners but a perfect manner. Manners are made up of trivialities of
deportment which can be easily learned if one does not happen to know
them; manner is personality--the outward manifestation of one's innate
character and attitude toward life. A gentleman, for instance, will never
be ostentatious or overbearing any more than he will ever be servile,
because these attributes never animate the impulses of a well-bred person.
A man whose manners suggest the grotesque is invariably a person of
imitation rather than of real position.
Etiquette must, if it is to be of more than trifling use, include ethics
as well as manners. Certainly what one is, is of far greater importance
than what one appears to be. A knowledge of etiquette is of course
essential to one's decent behavior, just as clothing is essential to one's
decent appearance; and precisely as one wears the latter without being
self-conscious of having on shoes and perhaps gloves, one who has good
manners is equally unself-conscious in the observance of etiquette, the
precepts of which must be so thoroughly absorbed as to make their
observance a matter of instinct rather than of conscious obedience.
Thus Best Society is not a fellowship of the wealthy, nor does it seek to
exclude those who are not of exalted birth; but it _is_ an association of
gentle-folk, of which good form in speech, charm of manner, knowledge of
the social amenities, and instinctive consideration for the feelings of
others, are the credentials by which society the world over recognizes its
chosen members.