ETIQUETTE; OR A GUIDE TO THE USAGES OF SOCIETY; WITH A GLANCE
AT BAD HABITS. By Count ALFRED D'ORSAY. Number Six of
the 'Brother Jonathan' Monthly Library. New-York: WILSON AND
COMPANY.
WE opened this little work with avidity. It is the production
of one whose fame, as an accomplished leader and arbiter in fashionable
life, has preceded it for some years throughout the United States, and
may well impart to it the weight of grave authority. We read it to
the close without interruption, and with the greater interest, from
finding in it, as we went on, much more than a bare list of rules of
intercourse; and we rose from our chair, gratified by the perusal; full
of good feeling toward its author; and with a passage from the divine
JEREMY TAYLOR hovering in our thoughts. This is it:
'THE Greek that designed to make the most exquisite picture
that could be imagined, fancied the eye of Chione, and the hair of
Poegnium, and Tarsia's lip, Philenium's chin, and the forehead of
Delphia; and set all these upon Melphidippa's neck, and thought that
he should outdo both art and nature. But when he came to view the
proportions, he found that what was excellent in Tarsia did not agree
with the other excellency of Philenium; and although singly they were
rare pieces, yet in the whole they made a most ugly face.'
Now it is the exactness of proportion, and what the painters call the
_good keeping_ of a picture, that in real life designate the well-bred
man. It is that quiet exemption from unnecessary display or prominence,
in any single feature of character, while all are beautifully
sustained; it is that style of existence which in the Venus de Medicis
makes her appear to the eye to enlarge as you approach near and more
near that miracle of art; it is that nice adaptation of conduct to
momentary occasion, dictated by a cool judgment, a determined will,
perfect self-possession, and a kind heart; that mark the character and
manners, and give a tranquil and yet pervading and an unforgotten charm
to the intercourse of the true and well-born gentleman:
----'it is not in the power of monarchs
To make a Gentleman, which is a substance
Only begot of Merit.'
Count D'ORSAY has this innate perception throughout
his chapter on Conversation, and he has well illustrated it in
that on Dress; indeed throughout his work he writes _as from a_
SOURCE: 'It is bad taste to dress in the extreme of fashion;
and, in general, those only do so who have no other claim to
distinction; leave it, in these times, to shopmen and pick-pockets.
Avoid wearing jewelry, unless it be in very good taste, and then only
at proper seasons. This is the age of Mosaic gold and other trash; and
by dint of swindling, any one _may_ become 'flashy' at a small expense.
Recollect that every shop-boy can coarsely imitate your 'outward and
visible sign' if he choose to save his money for that purpose. If
you _will_ stand out in 'high and bold relief,' endeavour to become
eminent for some virtue or talent, that people may say, 'There goes the
_celebrated_ (not the _notorious_) Mr. So-and-so.' In the same chapter
are some valuable hints on dress to the other sex, too applicable,
alas! too applicable! As our life is not long enough to do anything
but praise them, we beg to refer our fair readers to the work itself;
the whole of which they may read with advantage, and we doubt not
with pleasure. We were much struck by the noble author's chapter on
DINNERS in several of its passages, one or two of which we are
disposed to cite. The following is eminently just: 'Well-bred people
arrive as nearly at the appointed dinner hour as they can. It is a very
vulgar assumption of importance purposely to arrive half an hour behind
time; beside the folly of allowing eight or ten hungry people such a
tempting opportunity of discussing your foibles.'
With _us_ indeed, this 'vulgar assumption of importance' on an occasion
of dinner is rarely imagined, and would never be tolerated at all;
but we have among us some men of genius, (Heaven save the mark!) to
whom the flight of time seems never to be a matter of account. We
remember having had our whole dinner spoiled (except the game, which
providentially was not put down) by one of this class to whom the
entertainment was given; and when at last, after being sent for, he
made his appearance two hours beyond time, he remarked very blandly,
'I thought the hour upon your card was five o'clock.' The clock was
striking SEVEN while he spoke!--yet it was impossible to look
into his face and not forgive him. But the annoyance _of the guests_
is not much less than this to the host, when, as is too frequently
the case with us, they are kept waiting on their part an unreasonable
time beyond the hour fixed for the repast. They have arrived in due
season, have paid their compliments, and are ready for your soup;
and Time wears leaden wings until they are seated and occupied with
it. It is also at all times to be considered, that _Lunch_ is by no
means in America a thing of course; and a man may easily, with the
kindest intentions in the world, by mere want of punctuality in his
establishment, disarrange the gastric juices of eight or ten of his
best friends!!
'Nothing indicates a well-bred man more than a proper mode of eating
his dinner. A man may pass muster by _dressing well_, and may sustain
himself tolerably in conversation; but if he be not perfectly 'au
fait,' _dinner_ will betray him.' How true! How infallible has this
criterion ever been! We were surprised at the following observation,
coming from such a source: 'It is a matter of regret that table napkins
are not considered indispensable in England; for with all our boasted
refinement, they are far from being general. The comfort of napkins
at dinner is too obvious to require comment, while the _expense_ can
hardly be urged as an objection. If there be not any napkins a man has
no alternative but to use the table-cloth, unless (_as many do_) he
prefer his pocket handkerchief--a usage sufficiently disagreeable.'
Shade of GRAMMONT! can it be, that at any table in England
at which this true gentleman, this accomplished nobleman 'observed
of all observers,' this cynosure, could be induced to sit, there can
remain such a vestige of barbarism as this want implies, and this
high authority establishes? No table napkin! No 'alternative but the
table-cloth or the pocket handkerchief!' Good Heavens! can it be a
possible thing, that these 'haughty Islanders' should rail at us upon
both shores, come over the sea and compose their 'Notes on America' at
tables where they have been invited as honored guests, and friends,
and then go home to deliver their venom, and make market-money out of
their coarse detraction of the domestic manners of their hosts, and
spitting-boxes alike of their stomachs and their printing-presses;
and this at a time when it is their practice to defile, with their
soiled fingers, the drapery that covers a board that should be
sacred in the eyes of all Christian men, as it is in those of the
Mussulman and the Moor! Oh England! England! and yet, Fatherland!
Fatherland!----to think, that from thy prolifick and exhaustless bosom,
thou shouldest send forth, almost in the same season, to us, warmed
into life and golden being, the gentle, the accessible, the illustrious
MORPETH--whose visit hath left a trace of light along the
path he trod upon our shores--and that the same Sun should, 'kissing
carrion,' give motion from Thee to these maggots of a dead dog! that
crawl their way across the same blue deep to mark us with their slime!
But enough of this; at least we use napkins at our dinners throughout
the Union, thank GOD!
Two other short extracts shall be made, in order to establish with our
readers the author's right to the rank he holds in society:
'THERE is no better test of a man's claim to be considered
'_a Gentleman_,' than a scrutiny of his conduct in money transactions.
A man may possess rank and fashion, and, by an assumed frankness of
character, deceive the multitude; but the moment his purse is invaded,
if he be not of the true caste, he will display the most contemptible
meanness; he will take advantage of the liberal; _evade_, by every
miserable subterfuge, the claims of those he dares not oppress,
and unblushingly _defy_ those unfortunate persons whose poverty is
likely to prevent the due assertion of their rights. Such a man may
possess station in society--he may be an 'élégant'--he may be a
_prince_!--_but if he be not honest, he is not a gentleman_.'
'Gentility is neither in birth, manner, nor fashion--but in the
MIND. A high sense of honor; a determination never to take
a mean advantage of another; an adherence to truth; delicacy and
politeness toward those with whom you may have dealings--are the
essential and distinguishing characteristics of a GENTLEMAN.'
The work concludes with an admirable and elaborate analysis of the
WALTZ; and it is with earnest pleasure that we recommend it as
a whole to the readers of the KNICKERBOCKER.
SINCE preparing the preceding notice for the press, the
following _Rules à la D'Orsay_, adapted to the meridian of New-York,
have been handed to us under the highest fashionable sanction, to
be appended to the future American editions of this interesting
production. We leave to the publishers the charge of arranging them
under the various heads to which they respectively belong.
'I. If your entertainer hand you his box, help yourself immediately to
snuff with the fore-finger and thumb of the left hand; close the box
at once and return it him with a demonstration of thankfulness for the
compliment he has paid you. There is no need, if you should not be in
the practice of regaling yourself in this way, to taste the snuff; you
need raise the pinch only once to your olfactories, and may then let it
fall. Neither affect the mastery of the box, by offering it to any one
else; or by passing it round the table without an intimation from your
host. Never breathe over it; nor, while you aspire to the character of
a gentleman, SMELL from it and say, that 'you wish you could
indulge yourself in this way.'
'II. Instruct your servants, that at all times before _the course
of_ GAME be served upon your dinner-table, every dish of
Vegetables be removed from the apartment. There are among us, grave
men and of honest extraction who are yet capable of eating cooked
vegetables even with Game; and who, with sallad at hand, and a woodcock
before them extended upon his proper toast, would yet, (if permitted
to practice such an enormity,) ask the servant for a potatoe without a
sense either of humiliation or of remorse!!
'III. Abjure all dinner-communion whatever with the host, who, for the
second time, places you at his table upon a cushionless chair; the
bottom of which is formed of those hexagons of misery made out of split
rattan, and known in New-York by the appropriate title of Cain-bottoms,
doubtless in honor of the first murderer of man: the most charitable
construction that can be placed upon such conduct being, that your
entertainer compasses your death during the ensuing winter:
'You're there in double trust:
First as his Friend; his Entertainer, oft;
Strong both against the deed. And he, your Host;
Who should against the sharp Wind close the door,
Not _bare the knife_ himself!'
'IV. Never again send a card of invitation to the young
person--gentleman we could never call him--however great 'his
expectations' may be, who at your ball or evening party where ladies
are your guests, has had the insolent temerity of lighting his cigar
before leaving the house.
'V. Until you thoroughly understand, and can gracefully accomplish
in perfect time, the varied steps of the Waltz, never venture upon
the experiment, even of _a single tour_, with one of those precious
beings, whose feet are formed to touch the earth only _par courtoisie_;
for--shall I tell you?--the very hyena might have uttered cries of real
grief, during more than one morning last winter, over the bruised and
discolored spots--traces of the last night's movement--upon a small,
plump, eloquent foot, where the instep fades with a quick descent into
the narrow and imperceptible plain, and the heel is lost at the moment
an upright posture is assumed: and over which nature, until then, had
gazed, entranced by the dimpling and ever-varying beauty of her Work!
'Practise yourself until perfect with some female professional Teacher,
who can describe to you the effects of your _gaucherie_, and instruct
you how to remedy it; or if, as is the case with many a worthy young
man well received in society, you be come of a numerous, clumsy
family, go it often with some of your strong-armed maiden aunts, or
good-natured sisters, who can honestly and vigorously kick you in
return, and break you in by degrees; and teach you feelingly what
you are; and what pain you may impose, and absolute lameness you may
inflict, upon that irradiation of light and joy, which, (as no language
_can_ express the pleasure that she gives,) we call by the pain she
sometimes causes; and, in our tears, have named her WO-MAN!
'VI. Do not entertain the thought, that as a young gentleman 'of
large expectations;' or from your being one of those 'admirable
waltzers;' or one of that class of favored persons whom for whatever
cause, the ladies rank immediately next the music when they tell the
_père de famille_, or the future manager, 'We must immediately engage
So-and-so's band, and here is a list of the indispensable _beaux_
without whom our party will be a failure'----do not, although your name
be first upon that list, imagine you have nothing more to do, than go
to the ball; enjoy yourself as much as you can; leave a card during one
of the three following days; give a passing recognition in the street
to the lady of the house; and then cut the family like a watering-place
acquaintance until they give a ball again, or new-year's day come round
to prove you ready for another night of pleasure. Leave such a course
to the half-bred vulgarian. It is the part of the true gentleman on
the contrary, after observing the other forms of etiquette toward a
family whose hospitality he has chosen to accept, to take opportunities
occasionally at the houses of their mutual acquaintance to renew his
cheerful compliments to the lady, as he meets her undergoing the
routine--alas! how often the laborious, the devoted, the unsatisfactory
routine--of attending night after night upon those in whom her maternal
wishes are centered and at stake! Do not believe, (if you require an
incentive,) that this will be lost to you. It is among those amenities
of life in which pleasure increases as the heart dispenses it. Your
bosom's lord shall 'sit more lightly on his throne' for this employment
of his gracious faculties; and--for there are many attentions that
the sex love to see exercised toward each other--Eyes shall follow
you approvingly, that may contain _the untold treasure of your future
hope_.'
BANKRUPT STORIES. EDITED BY HARRY FRANCO. 'THE HAUNTED
MERCHANT.' In one volume, pp. 381. New-York: JOHN ALLEN,
139 Nassau-street.
SOON after the work entitled 'Harry Franco' had made its
appearance, we took the liberty to send it, together with several
other late publications of the day, to our eminent contributor, Mr.
WASHINGTON IRVING, then at his charming 'Sunnyside Cottage'
on the Hudson. In acknowledging his reception of the books, he took
especial occasion to speak of 'Harry Franco' as a work replete with
natural description and quiet humor; and on learning that the author
was a regular correspondent of the KNICKERBOCKER, he added:
'Cherish him; he is a writer of excellent parts, and great promise.'
'The Haunted Merchant' was soon after commenced in these pages; and
after gradually increasing in interest, until the interval of a month
in its publication was deemed by many readers a very painful _hiatus_,
it was suddenly suspended by the author, owing to overwhelming business
avocations, which engaged his undivided attention. When, after many
months, he was once more in the enjoyment of the necessary leisure to
finish the work, it was not deemed advisable to resume it at so late a
period in the KNICKERBOCKER, but to complete it in a volume,
in which it should form the first of a series of 'Bankrupt Stories;'
and this is the volume before us, more than two-thirds of which will
be entirely new to our readers. We have once or twice referred to
the work, while in the process of publication in numbers; but having
re-perused it entire in its present form, we cannot resist the impulse
to counsel our readers to secure the enjoyment of the same pleasure.
Aside from the numerous 'palpable hits' at men, manners, and customs,
in our commercial metropolis, there is in the story itself, in its
incidents and characters, a pervading interest, which increases, not
fitfully, but in regular and natural progression, to the dénouement.
The curiosity of the reader, stimulated but not satisfied, continues
unabated to the end; an opinion on which we pledge our critical
judgment, and the correctness of which we desire our readers themselves
to test in the only way in which it can be tested. Meanwhile, leaving
the story untouched, we proceed to select a few of the 'palpable hits'
to which we have adverted, which we shall arrange under indicative
heads, after the manner of certain of our English contemporaries: