The morning party is a modern invention; it was unknown to our fathers
and mothers, and even to ourselves, till quite lately. A morning party
is seldom given out of the season--that is to say, during any months
except those of May, June, and July. It begins about two o'clock and
ends about five, and the entertainment consists for the most part
of conversation, music, and (if there be a garden) croquet, lawn
billiards, archery, &c. "Aunt Sally" is now out of fashion. The
refreshments are given in the form of a _déjeûner à la fourchette_.
Elegant morning dress, general good manners, and some acquaintance
with the topics of the day and the games above named, are all the
qualifications especially necessary to a gentleman at a morning party.
An evening party begins about nine o'clock, p.m., and ends about
midnight, or somewhat later. Good breeding neither demands that you
should present yourself at the commencement, nor remain till the close
of the evening. You come and go as may be most convenient to you, and
by these means are at liberty, during the height of the season when
evening parties are numerous, to present yourself at two or three
houses during a single evening.
Always put your gloves on before entering the drawing-room, and be
careful that there is no speck of mud upon your boots or trousers.
When your name is announced, look for the lady of the house and pay
your respects to her before you even seem to see any other of
your friends who may be in the room. At very large and fashionable
receptions, the hostess is generally to be found near the door. Should
you, however, find yourself separated by a dense crowd of guests, you
are at liberty to recognize those who are near you, and those whom you
encounter as you make your way slowly through the throng.
General salutations of the company are now wholly disused. In society,
a man only recognizes his own friends and acquaintances.
If you are at the house of a new acquaintance and find yourself among
entire strangers, remember that by so meeting under one roof you are
all in a certain sense made known to one another, and should therefore
converse freely, as equals. To shrink away to a side-table and affect
to be absorbed in some album or illustrated work; or, if you find one
unlucky acquaintance in the room, to fasten upon him like a drowning
man clinging to a spar, are _gaucheries_ which no shyness can excuse.
An easy and unembarrassed manner, and the self-possession requisite
to open a conversation with those who happen to be near you, are the
indispensable credentials of a well-bred man.
At an evening party, do not remain too long in one spot. To be
afraid to move from one drawing-room to another is the sure sign of a
neophyte in society.
If you have occasion to use your handkerchief, do so as noiselessly as
possible. To blow your nose as if it were a trombone, or to turn your
head aside when using your handkerchief, are vulgarities scrupulously
to be avoided.
Never stand upon the hearth-rug with your back to the fire, either
in a friend's house or your own. We have seen even well-bred men at
evening parties commit this selfish and vulgar solecism.
Never offer any one the chair from which you have just risen, unless
there be no other disengaged.
If when supper is announced no lady has been especially placed under
your care by the hostess, offer your arm to whichever lady you may
have last conversed with.
If you possess any musical accomplishments, do not wait to be pressed
and entreated by your hostess, but comply immediately when she pays
you the compliment of inviting you to play or sing. Remember, however,
that only the lady of the house has the right to ask you. If others do
so, you can put them off in some polite way; but must not comply till
the hostess herself invites you.
If you sing comic songs, be careful that they are of the most
unexceptionable kind, and likely to offend neither the tastes nor
prejudices of the society in which you find yourself. At an evening
party given expressly in honour of a distinguished lady of colour,
we once heard a thoughtless amateur dash into the broadly comic, but
terribly appropriate nigger song of "Sally come up." Before he had
got through the first verse, he had perceived his mistake, and was
so overwhelmed with shame that he could scarcely preserve sufficient
presence of mind to carry him through to the end.
If the party be of a small and social kind, and those games called by
the French _les jeux innocents_ are proposed, do not object to join in
them when invited. It may be that they demand some slight exercise
of wit and readiness, and that you do not feel yourself calculated to
shine in them; but it is better to seem dull than disagreeable, and
those who are obliging can always find some clever neighbour to assist
them in the moment of need. The game of "consequences" is one which
unfortunately gives too much scope to liberty of expression. If you
join in this game, we cannot too earnestly enjoin you never to write
down one word which the most pure-minded woman present might not read
aloud without a blush. Jests of an equivocal character are not only
vulgar, but contemptible.
Impromptu charades are frequently organized at friendly parties.
Unless you have really some talent for acting and some readiness of
speech, you should remember that you only put others out and expose
your own inability by taking part in these entertainments. Of course,
if your help is really needed and you would disoblige by refusing, you
must do your best, and by doing it as quietly and coolly as possible,
avoid being awkward or ridiculous.
Should an impromptu polka or quadrille be got up after supper at a
party where no dancing was intended, be sure not to omit putting on
gloves before you stand up. It is well always to have a pair of white
gloves in your pocket in case of need; but even black are better under
these circumstances than none.
Even though you may take no pleasure in cards, some knowledge of the
etiquette and rules belonging to the games most in vogue is necessary
to you in society. If a fourth hand is wanted at a rubber, or if the
rest of the company sit down to a round game, you would be deemed
guilty of an impoliteness if you refused to join.
The games most commonly played in society are whist, loo,
_vingt-et-un_, and speculation.
Whist requires four players.[A] A pack of cards being spread upon the
table with their faces downwards, the four players draw for partners.
Those who draw the two highest cards and those who draw the two lowest
become partners. The lowest of all claims the deal.
Married people should not play at the same table, unless where the
party is so small that it cannot be avoided. This rule supposes
nothing so disgraceful to any married couple as dishonest collusion;
but persons who play regularly together cannot fail to know so much
of each other's mode of acting, under given circumstances, that
the chances no longer remain perfectly even in favour of their
adversaries.
Never play for higher stakes than you can afford to lose without
regret. Cards should be resorted to for amusement only; for
excitement, never.
No well-bred person ever loses temper at the card-table. You have no
right to sit down to the game unless you can bear a long run of ill
luck with perfect composure, and are prepared cheerfully to pass over
any blunders that your partner may chance to make.
If you are an indifferent player, make a point of saying so before
you join a party at whist. If the others are fine players they will
be infinitely more obliged to you for declining than accepting their
invitation. In any case you have no right to spoil their pleasure by
your bad play.
Never let even politeness induce you to play for very high stakes.
Etiquette is the minor morality of life; but it never should be
allowed to outweigh the higher code of right and wrong.
Be scrupulous to observe silence when any of the company are playing
or singing. Remember that they are doing this for the amusement of the
rest; and that to talk at such a time is as ill-bred as if you were
to turn your back upon a person who was talking to you, and begin a
conversation with some one else.
If you are yourself the performer, bear in mind that in music, as in
speech, "brevity is the soul of wit." Two verses of a song, or four
pages of a piece, are at all times enough to give pleasure. If your
audience desire more they will ask for more; and it is infinitely more
flattering to be encored than to receive the thanks of your hearers,
not so much in gratitude for what you have given them, but in relief
that you have left off. You should try to suit your music, like your
conversation, to your company. A solo of Beethoven's would be as much
out of place in some circles as a comic song at a Quakers' meeting.
To those who only care for the light popularities, of the season, give
Balfe and Verdi, Glover and Jullien. To connoisseurs, if you perform
well enough to venture, give such music as will be likely to meet the
exigences of a fine taste. Above all, attempt nothing that you cannot
execute with ease and precision.
In retiring from a crowded party it is unnecessary that you should
seek out the hostess for the purpose of bidding her a formal good
night. By doing this you would, perhaps, remind others that it was
getting late, and cause the party to break up.
If you meet the lady of the house on your way to the drawing-room
door, take your leave of her as unobtrusively as possible, and slip
away without attracting the attention of her other guests.
[Footnote A: For a succinct guide to whist, loo, _vingt-et-un_,
speculation, &c., &c., &c., see Routledge's "Card-player," by G.F.
Pardon, price _sixpence_.]
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