The customs of society in regard to visiting or “calling,” and the
rules that govern these customs, are well worthy of our attention and
care, since they in a great measure underlie and uphold the structure
of our social life. No one, therefore, need consider these details
trivial or of little account, since, according to Lord Chesterfield,
“Great talents are above the appreciation of the generality of the
world, but all people are judges of civility, grace of manner, and an
agreeable address, because they feel the good effects of them as making
society easy and pleasing.”
Length of Visits.
Ceremonious visits should always be short, fifteen to twenty minutes
being the outside limit, and a shorter time often sufficing. Even
should the conversation become very animated, do not prolong your stay
beyond this period. It is far better that your friends should regret
your withdrawal than long for your absence. A lull in the conversation,
a rising from her seat, or some pretext on the part of the hostess, or
the arrival of a guest, all give an opportunity for leave-taking which
should be made use of at once.
The Art of Leaving.
Cultivate the art of leaving; nothing will contribute more to your
social success. It is said of so brilliant a woman as Madame de Staël
that she failed lamentably in this particular, and, on the occasion of
her visit to Weimar, made with the avowed intention of intellectually
captivating the literary lions of the age, Goëthe and Schiller, she
made one fatal mistake, she stayed too long! Goëthe wrote to Schiller:
“Madame de Staël is a bright, entertaining person, but she ought to
know when it is time to go!” It is also evident from her own statement
that she did not know _how_ to go. She lingered after she had started,
and if this were an unpardonable sin on the part of so marvelous a
woman, it is surely a capital crime on the part of ordinary mortals.
The art of leaving is more thoroughly understood by men than by women.
The necessities of business life teach the value of time, and the press
and hurry of city circles teach them the art of leaving quickly, so
that a social call on the part of a business man is a model of good
manners. When he has “had his say” and politely listened to yours, he
takes his hat, says “good day,” and is gone from your presence without
giving opportunity for those tedious commonplaces of mutual invitations
and promises to come again which seem a social formula with so many
women.
When Ready to Leave, Go at Once.
Never say, “I must go,” but, when you have finished your visit and rise
to depart, go! Never permit yourself to be drawn into touching upon any
subject at this critical moment that will necessitate lengthy discourse
for yourself and hostess, or force upon you the awkward alternative
of reseating yourself to finish the conversation. There is always a
certain awkwardness in thus repeating the ceremony of leave-taking
which may be avoided by a quick and graceful departure that leaves
both host and guest with feelings of the utmost amiability toward one
another.
On the other side it is necessary that the host and hostess supplement
this laudable endeavor on the part of their guests in order that the
departure may be gracefully accomplished. Never detain the visitor,
who is attempting to leave, by protests, by inquiries, or by the
introduction of new subjects. One writer very pertinently says: “The
art of leaving on the part of the guest needs to be supplemented by the
art of letting go on the part of the host.”
First Calls.
There is, possibly, more difference of opinion on the subject of _who_
shall make the first visit or call and _when_ it shall be made, than
almost any other point of etiquette. At the same time more importance
is attached to it than to almost any other social question, and it
touches more uniformly every phase of city or country life than any
other canon of courtesy.
Neither neighborliness, nor good-Samaritan feeling, can exist without
the civility of a call, and, when there is too great a hesitancy on the
part of a resident to call upon the newcomer, one is reminded either of
the priest or the Levite as they “passed by upon the other side,” or
is forced to recall the parvenue’s dread of losing a footing in social
circles.
Common sense and kindliness of heart are always to be relied upon in
matters of this nature, and the initiative may safely be taken by those
who have social position, age, or length of residence on their side.
Of course in large cities the immense demands of social life give a
certain immunity from anything like promiscuous calling to those whose
circle of acquaintance has already grown beyond the limits of their
time. In towns and villages, however, no such immunity exists, and a
call may be easily made, or a card left, while, on the other hand,
should the new acquaintance prove “pushing,” or in any way obnoxious,
one simply ceases to leave one’s cards and the evil is done away with.
Many elderly ladies, and others whose time is very much occupied by
social or other duties, excuse themselves from calling customs. Under
such circumstances, they frequently send their cards, accompanied by an
invitation, to newcomers younger in years, thus entirely omitting the
personal visit. Such invitations, whether accepted or not, should be
honored in the same manner as if preceded by a call.
If two people meet pleasantly at a friend’s house and wish to continue
the acquaintance so begun, let them not hesitate, should none of the
before-mentioned distinctions exist, as to which should make the
first visit. Still, it is ofttimes wise not to call too hastily upon
the newcomer, especially in cities, where it is well first to be
properly introduced, and further still to have some assurance that your
acquaintance is desired by them as well. As before stated, priority of
residence, age, or pre-eminence in social position, should properly be
upon the side of the one making the first advances. If none of these
exist, let the braver of the two break the social ice.
The etiquette of summer resorts demands that the owners of cottages
call first upon renters, and afterward that both unite in calling upon
later comers and arrivals at hotels or boarding houses. Of course, such
intercourse is simply for the pleasure of the time being, and carries
with it no responsibility of recognition in the future, unless such
recognition should be satisfactory to both parties. It would be well
for the “summer girl” and the “summer young man” to remember this canon
whereby “society” guards the doors of its exclusiveness, enjoy the
“good that the gods give” and expect no more.
Substitute for First Call.
In continental countries, and in cosmopolitan Washington, newcomers
make the first advances themselves, leaving cards with those whom they
wish to number among their acquaintances. Every one returns these
cards, and invitations flow in upon the aspirant for social honors.
This custom, unfortunately, does not hold good anywhere else in this
country, though a polite expedient is sometimes adopted by persons
entering upon life in a new city. This consists in the newcomer sending
out her cards for several reception days in a month. These may be
accompanied, or not, by the card of some friend well known in social
circles, if such she have, to serve as voucher. If not, she relies upon
her own merits and sends out her cards unaccompanied. According to the
varied authorities recommending this course of action, those rudely
ignoring this suggestion are few in number, and the lady is permitted
at once to feel that she has commenced her social career.
Morning and Evening Visits.
Any visit made between the hours of twelve and six is to be looked upon
as a morning visit, though there is a little difference in various
cities with regard to the exact time. Where one expects to touch upon
reception hours, from three to five is usually a safe limit. In country
towns or the small cities, from two to five are the usual hours for
paying visits. Evening visits should be made between the hours of eight
and nine, and ordinarily should never extend in length beyond the hour
of ten.
Sunday Visits.
Gentlemen are permitted to call upon lady friends, Sundays after church
and Sunday evenings, business cares being their excuse for not availing
themselves of the other days of the week. Of course, if there exists
any known objection in the family to Sunday visiting all their friends
are bound to respect it.
Reception Days.
If a lady have a known reception day, callers are bound, in common
politeness, to make their visits, as far as possible, upon that day. If
this is not done, either a card only should be left, or, if a personal
visit is intended, particular instructions should be given to the
servant to the effect that if “Mrs. Brown is otherwise engaged she is
not to trouble herself to come down.” For which thoughtfulness, “Mrs.
Brown,” if she be a busy woman, and troubled with many social cares,
will cordially thank you.
Unfortunately, it often happens that many of our friends have the same
reception day, and one’s own “day” may conflict with that of one’s
nearest friend, so that, where the circle of acquaintance is large,
much good nature, a few apologies and a great many cards are needed to
safely balance the social accounts.
It is considered a rudeness to simply leave a card, when one happens to
arrive upon a lady’s reception day, without entering the room for a few
moments’ visit.
“Not at Home,” “Engaged.”
The simple and necessary formulæ of, “Not at home,” or “Engaged,” are
more frequently questioned than any other social custom. Nevertheless
their use is often a necessity, while, on the contrary, their abuse
is to be regretted. No suspicion of an untruth need apply to either,
for the phrase, “Not at home,” is used with the accepted signification
of, “Not at home, for the time being, to any visitors.” If, however,
conscience rebels against this so transparent fraud, there is always
the alternative of “Engaged,” which carries not the least suspicion of
deception with it, but is somewhat less gracious to the ear.
Indeed, were it not for these safeguards, the woman of society must bid
good-by to all opportunities for solitude, self-improvement, or the
fulfillment of her own social duties.
The servant should be very carefully instructed each morning as to
the formulæ to be employed through the day, or such portion of the
day as the lady of the house shall require to herself. No lady, after
a servant has informed her that the mistress of the house is “not at
home,” will question as to her whereabouts, or the probable length of
her absence. If she should so far forget her dignity, the well-trained
servant will answer all inquiries with a respectful, “I do not
know, Madame,” adding, if such be the case, “Mrs. Brown receives on
Thursdays.”
Should a servant show evident hesitation upon receiving your card, and
say, “I will see if Mrs. Brown is in,” enter the parlor, at the same
time saying, “If Mrs. Brown is otherwise engaged, or going out, beg her
not to trouble herself.”
Never, except upon urgent necessity, insist upon pencilling a word or
two upon a visiting card and sending it up, where a lady is “engaged,”
as a demand upon her attention. If a servant has said the lady is “not
at home,” she has a perfect right to refuse the message.
In suburban towns and small cities, where reception days are not
common, the lady of the house must be very careful how and when she
denies herself to visitors. Indeed, in all cases much discrimination
must be shown in this respect, as great inconvenience may result, and
some injustice be done, by an indiscriminate denial. But, as before
said, in towns, it is better, if possible, to receive guests. Even if
no servant is kept, the mistress can usually, by the exercise of a
little care, keep herself neat and presentable. If at any time some
slight alterations are necessary to the toilet, let the interval thus
employed be very short.
Some one has said that it would be well for a lady having a reception
day to devote a part of the morning of the same day to business calls,
and to instruct her servants to inform all comers of this custom.
Visiting List.
It is well for all ladies having a large list of acquaintances to
keep a carefully revised visiting list to assist their memories as to
addresses, names of persons to invite, reception days of acquaintances,
and, if possible, a list of their own ceremonious visits for the
season, noting those that have been returned. The time thus expended is
amply repaid by the convenience of reference and the avoidance of the
possibility of making a second visit when the first is unreturned. Also
this list serves as a basis for the visiting list of the next season;
those having failed to return calls or cards being dropped from the new
list.
Visits Between Ladies and Gentlemen.
A gentleman, as a rule, should not ask a lady for permission to call
upon her. It is very easy for her, if she desires his company, to say:
“I receive Thursdays,” or, “I shall be at home Monday.” It is a great
discourtesy for a gentleman not to call at the time mentioned, or in
a very few days, after being thus invited by a lady. Some gentlemen,
if simply asked to “call sometime,” will ask, “when may I have the
pleasure of seeing you?” To this question a definite answer should be
returned, if possible. Very young ladies do not thus invite gentlemen;
the invitation coming from either father, mother, or chaperon.
A gentleman does not call upon a lady without some intimation of
her wishes in the matter, unless he is the bearer of a letter of
introduction, or is taken to her home by some friend sufficiently
well acquainted to warrant the liberty. He may, however, seek an
introduction through some mutual acquaintance.
Ladies may express regret at being out when a gentleman called; he also
should regret the absence. If it should happen that a gentleman should
call several times in succession and be so unfortunate as to miss the
lady each time, it would be quite proper for her to write him a note,
regretting her absence and appointing an evening when she would be at
home for his next call. This would remove any feeling of annoyance on
his part that perhaps her absence had been premeditated.
Gentlemen frequently call upon their married lady friends, doing so
without the slightest appearance of secrecy and with full knowledge
of all parties concerned. Indeed, the right of entrance to some of
these pleasant home parlors is a great boon to the unmarried men of
our cities. Ladies do not call upon gentlemen except professionally or
officially, or, it may be, in some cases of protracted invalidism.
“Out of Society.”
It sometimes happens that a newly-married lady, or a newcomer in some
city, through severe illness, a season of mourning, or devotion to
home duties, finds herself, in a year or so, completely “out” of a
society with which she had scarcely become acquainted. If she be timid
and non-assertive, she will sink back dismayed at the prospect, but if
energetic and aspiring, she will at once win her way back by giving a
series of receptions, either formal or informal, to all her old-time
friends; or, by entering into charities, or joining literary or musical
clubs, she will quickly reinstate herself in the memory of society.
Conduct of the Hostess.
A hostess does not necessarily advance to receive her guests, simply
rising and moving forward a step in order to shake hands (if she should
so wish), remaining standing till they are seated, and, if possible,
keeping the latest comer near her side. Gentlemen should always permit
the lady to make the first advance in the matter of hand-shaking. It is
her prerogative.
As the guests depart, the hostess does not accompany each one to the
door, but rising, remains standing until the guests have quite left
the room, when it is to be supposed they will be met by a servant. In
country towns the hostess usually accompanies the guest to the door, if
there are others present, excusing herself to them and remaining out of
the room but a moment.
Entertaining Callers.
Where there are several guests in the room at once the hostess should
try to make the conversation general and pay equal attention to all,
save that for a few moments, the latest arrival engages her more
intimately, or some guest of great intellectual or artistic genius may
be honored among the rest, as a lion of the hour.
If you should chance to find, at once, in your reception room, two
friends with whom you are upon equal terms of intimacy, treat them with
the most absolute impartiality, being demonstrative toward neither,
for there is too much truth in the saying that “there is always a
feeling of jealousy on the part of each, that another should share your
thoughts and feelings to the same extent as themselves.” There are
other occasions where the same care against wounding their feelings
should be observed.
If there should be any preference with regard to seats, one suggestion
is that a lady should be seated on a couch or sofa, unless advanced in
years, when she should be asked to accept an easy chair; an elderly
gentleman should be treated in the same manner. If a young lady should
be occupying a particularly comfortable seat, she must at once arise
and offer it to an older lady entering the room.
Should the hostess, upon the arrival of occasional visitors, be engaged
upon work requiring any attention, she must at once relinquish it;
but should it be light, ornamental, and not at all confining, she may
continue it, if so requested. It would be well, however, to drop it at
intervals, lest it appear as if there were more interest in the work
than the visitor.
Refreshments are not offered to visitors unless it is a regular
reception day with afternoon tea.
Conduct of the Guests.
If a visitor on entering the room finds that name or face has not been
remembered by the hostess, let the difficulty be rectified by the guest
pronouncing the name instantly and distinctly, the hostess, on her
part, to remember names and faces. A bad memory is inconsistent with
good manners. In very fashionable houses a servant announces the name
of each guest as they enter, thus saving any confusion.
Should you find yourself ushered into a room where there are several
inmates, all strangers, ask for the individual you wish to see and
introduce yourself distinctly.
If your friend is at a hotel, wait in the parlor until the servant
who carries up your card has returned to tell you whether you can be
admitted. Never follow him as he goes to make the announcement. A
little formality is the best preservative of friendship.
If, while you are paying a visit, other guests arrive, you should,
providing your stay has been sufficiently long, arise so soon as they
are quietly seated, make your adieus to your hostess, bow politely to
the other inmates of the room and take your departure. If you should be
calling upon a lady and meet a lady visitor in her drawing room, you
should rise when that lady takes her leave.
The style of conversation should always be in keeping with the
circumstances under which the visit is made. Common sense alone should
teach us that where a short morning call is in question, light, witty
and quickly-changed subjects only should be entered upon, the nature of
the case plainly prohibiting discussions on many topics.
Gentlemen are expected not to use classical quotations before ladies
without a slight apology and a translation, unless they are aware
that the lady’s educational training has made it possible for her
to appreciate them. It would be well if they would use the same
courtesy toward other men not gifted like themselves. For a general
maxim, it may be here recommended not to air one’s classical learning
unnecessarily, lest it savor of pedantry.
Guests should greet their hostess cordially, but a bow is usually
sufficient to include the others present.
Young ladies visiting a strange city should not receive calls from a
gentleman without requesting the privilege from their hostess, and
hostess and daughters should be introduced to him. Always avoid the
slightest appearance of seeming to use your friend’s house for a
rendezvous.
Deference to Ladies.
A gentleman rises when ladies leave the room. Ladies bow if it is a
gentleman, rising if it is a lady acquaintance, or a lady much older
than themselves. A gentleman rises when ladies enter a room, but never
offers them his chair unless there should be no other in the room.
A gentleman carries his hat and cane into the drawing room with him
in making a visit. His hostess should no more offer to relieve him of
them that she would take fan and handkerchief from the hands of her
lady guests. If he wears an outer coat he leaves that in the hall; if
there should be no hall the hostess may ask him to put it on a chair
or in another room. His hat and cane he either holds if he chooses,
or places beside him on the floor, never on a chair or other article
of furniture. If he intends spending the evening, he can, if he
choose, leave hat and cane in the hall. Gentlemen should never bring
friends with them to call upon ladies unless they have first received
permission from them so to do.
After escorting a lady on the previous evening the gentleman should
make a call upon her the following day, if possible. Gentlemen should
not consult their watches during a ceremonious visit. If some pressing
engagement should render this necessary, they should offer both an
apology and an explanation.
A gentleman, unless invited, should never seat himself beside his
hostess, but should take the chair pointed out to him.
Gentlemen, in receiving other gentlemen, go to the door to meet them
and furnish them with seats.
The man of the house should escort ladies to their carriage, should
they call while he is at home. If it be raining or otherwise
disagreeable, and they have their own coachman, they should, however,
beg him not to trouble himself.
Gentlemen should decline an invitation to spend the evening when making
a first visit; indeed, such an invitation should never be given.
A man is usually asked to repeat his visit by the mistress of the
house, not by the daughters, or else it is given by their chaperon.
What Not to Do.
Do not, according to the author of “Don’t,” be in haste to seat
yourself; one appears fully as well and talks better, standing for a
few moments. A man should always remain standing as long as there are
any women standing in the room. A man should never take any article
from a woman’s hands—book, cup, flower, etc.—and remain seated, she
standing. This rule is an imperative one; he must always rise to
receive it.
Do not take young children when making formal calls; the hostess will
be in terror as to the fate of her bric-a-brac, and the mother in dread
as to what her young hopefuls may say or do.
Do not take pet dogs with you into the drawing room. Their feet may
be dusty, they may be boisterous in expressing their feelings, and
besides, some people have a perfect aversion to dogs, so that your
visit, thus accompanied, is likely to be far from pleasant.
Do not meddle with, nor stare at the articles in the room. Do not toss
over the cards in the card receiver, if there be one, and, while your
name is being announced, do not wander impatiently around the room
handling everything within reach.
Do not loll about in your chair, if a gentleman (a lady scarcely needs
this caution), keep your feet squarely in front of you, not crossing
them; ladies would do well to heed this also. Do not torment pet dogs
or cats, or tease the children. Do not call the length of the room
if you wish to address any one, but cross the room and speak to him
quietly. Neither should you whisper to some one of the company, twist
or curl your thumbs or hands, or play with the tassels on the furniture
or window curtains, or commit any of the thousand and one blunders
that mark the underbred and nervous visitor and render his presence an
unwelcome trial.
There are a few other rules that would seem unnecessary to mention
here were it not that they are so constantly sinned against. Among
others it may be suggested not to do anything disagreable in company.
Do not scratch the head or use a toothpick, earspoon or comb; these
are for the privacy of your own apartment. Use a handkerchief whenever
necessary, but without glancing at it afterwards, and be quiet and
unobtrusive in the action as possible. Do not slam the door, do not
tilt your chair back to the loosening of its joints, do not lean your
head against the wall, as it will soil the papering; in short, do unto
others as you would be done by.
Do not tell long stories, more especially if they are about yourself;
do not argue; do not talk scandal, and be sure not to attack the
religious beliefs of any one present. Do study the chapter on the “Art
of Conversation,” and cultivate, as much as possible, that self-repose
of manner that is, above all things, a sign of the lady or gentleman.
The Reception-Room.
The arrangement of the reception-room itself has much to do with the
pleasure of the visitor. Who does not remember those delightful parlors
where the guests dropped into pleasant conversational groups as by
magic, and contrast them mentally with those other chilly apartments
where a sort of mental frost seems to settle over one’s faculties and
incapacitate them for use. Much of this may be avoided by a judicious
arrangement of chairs and couches, just where people drop naturally
into easy groups, or, for the time being, surround their hostess.
Propinquity is a great incentive to pleasant conversation, for there
are few people that can talk the pretty nothings and sparkling
witticisms, whereof parlor conversation properly consists, across
space to people stranded against the opposite wall. Therefore let the
hostess, who would have her symposiums remembered with delight, see to
it that she has an abundance of chairs, both easy and light, easy ones
for the refreshment of the weary in body and light ones that may be
quickly moved when the spirit moves toward some other group.
A clever woman, to whom all social arts were long-solved problems, once
said that she always observed how the chairs were left in a drawing
room where several people had been sitting and put them in the same
position next time. A group near the door where the casual caller will
naturally drop into one and the hostess into another without the least
effort, will be placed in the best possible position for a little chat.
Fulfill these conditions and your drawing room will be often filled and
the fame of it will go abroad.
Formal calls, as a rule, are at best but a duty performed that brings
a satisfaction in itself, but it sometimes happens that, as a reward
for our well-doing, some word may be said, some friend may be met by a
happy chance that is like a gleam of sunshine on a cloudy day.
[Illustration: Decoration]