People understand and "make allowances" for many things that, to say
the least, are thoughtless in the behavior of people whom they know
well. Not so "the general public," which measures every man's conduct
by the strict law of propriety, and accredits him with so much
intelligence and refinement as his manners display--no more. And,
happily, no less; for this "general public" is a dispassionate critic
on the whole, and if it severely condemns our faults, it has no grudge
against us to keep it from equally appreciating our merits.
A "regard for appearances" is--and should be--a leading consideration
when ordering one's conduct in public. It is not enough that _we know_
ourselves to be above reproach; we must take care that the stranger who
observes us gets no impression to the contrary. Friends who know her
irresistibly mirthful disposition, may excuse the girl who laughs
boisterously on the street-car; but she will not be able to explain to
the severe-looking stranger opposite that she did _not_ do this to
attract attention.
Conduct in public should be characterized by reserve. The promenade,
the corridors of public buildings--post-office, railway stations,
etc.--the elevators and arcades of buildings devoted to shops and
offices; museums and picture-galleries, the foyer of the theatre, and
the reading-rooms of public libraries may all be regarded as thorough
fares, where the general public is our observant critic. Greetings
between acquaintances casually meeting in such places should be quiet
and conventional; friends should avoid calling each other by name, and
conversation should be confined to such remarks as one does not object
to have accidentally overheard. Subdued, but natural, tones of voice
should be used, and the manner should be perfectly "open and above
board." Cautious whispering is conspicuous, sometimes suspicious, and
always ill-mannered. If confidential matters are to be discussed, the
office or the parlor is the proper place for the conference.
When acquaintances meet on the promenade, recognitions are exchanged by
a slight bow, with or without a spoken greeting.
On the crowded walk, if two acquaintances pass and re-pass each other
several times in the course of the same promenade, it is not necessary
to exchange greetings after the first meeting.
Canes and umbrellas should not be carried under the arm horizontally,
endangering the eyes and ribs of other pedestrians.
A man, when bowing, lifts his hat in the following instances:
When bowing to a lady.
When, walking with a lady, he bows to another man of his acquaintance.
When bowing to an elderly man, or a superior in office.
When bowing to a man who is walking with a lady.
When, walking with a lady, he joins her in saluting any gentlemen of
her acquaintance, but strangers to himself; or, when walking with
gentlemen, he joins them in saluting a lady of their acquaintance, but
a stranger to himself.
When offering any civility (as a seat in the street-car), to a lady,
whether a stranger or an acquaintance.
When bidding good-bye to a lady after an "open-air" conference, when
the hat has been worn. Punctilious etiquette requires a man to stand
with head uncovered in the presence of ladies, until requested to
replace the hat. But in our changeable climate, the risk of "taking
cold" suggests the good sense of wearing the hat out-of-doors, and
allowing the graceful lifting of the same at greeting and parting to
express all the deference that the uncovered head is meant to symbolize.
The greater the crowd, the shorter the range at which greetings are
exchanged. One might "halloo" to an old acquaintance forty rods
distant, down a country lane; but on Broadway he bows only to the ones
whom he meets point blank.
If two friends meet and pause to shake hands, they should step aside
from the throng, and not blockade the sidewalk. Ladies should make
these pauses very brief, and beware of entering into exhaustive
interchanges of family news. Two men may linger, if they choose, and
hold a few moments' conversation. But if a man meets a lady, and
wishes to chat with her, he should, after greeting her, ask permission
to join her, and walk with her for a short distance; he should by no
means detain her standing on the sidewalk. He should not accompany her
all the way to her destination, nor prolong such a casual conversation
beyond a few moments. He should leave her at a corner, and lift his
hat respectfully as he bids her good-bye.
If several people walking together on a sidewalk of average width meet
other groups of promenaders, both parties should fall into single line
as they pass, allowing each group a fair share of the walk. This is
especially incumbent when on a narrow crossing. It is very rude for
groups of three or more to walk abreast without heeding the people whom
they meet, and often crowding the latter off the curbstone. Young
girls are sometimes very thoughtless in this matter. "Turn to the
right, as the law directs" is an injunction that holds good for the
crowded sidewalk.
If one, walking briskly, overtakes slower walkers ahead, and the crowd
allows no space to get past them, one should watch for a chance to slip
through a gap in the phalanx, rather than "elbow through." If no
chance seems likely to occur, and haste is imperative, a polite man has
no recourse but to step outside the curb and walk rapidly ahead,
returning to the sidewalk a few paces in advance. A lady similarly
hurried may slip through a small space, if one offers, with an
apologetic "I beg pardon." But in no case should pushing be resorted
to. It is very unmannerly for a party of loiterers to string
themselves thus across the width of a sidewalk, and then saunter
slowly, regardless of the fact that they are impeding the progress of
busier people. A policeman should call their attention to the fact.
If the sidewalk is "blocked" by an orderly crowd, as it frequently is
on the occasion of parades and other public demonstrations, a man may
push his way through gently, saying, "I beg pardon" to those whom he is
compelled to jostle. The fine breeding of a gentleman never shows more
conspicuously than in his manner of getting through a crowd. The
beauty of it is, or, perhaps, I might say, the utility of it is, that
courtesy in such a case is very much more effective than "bluff," for
the majority in an orderly crowd are inclined to be obliging, and
quickly respond to a good-humored request; whereas, if one aggressive
elbow begins to push, a hundred other elbows are set rigidly akimbo,
and the solid mass becomes ten-fold more unyielding than before.
If accosted by a stranger with a request for information as to streets,
directions, etc., one should kindly reply, and, if not able to give the
desired information, should, if possible, direct the stranger where to
make further inquiries. Cheerful interest in the perplexities of a
bewildered sojourner in the city costs nothing and is always highly
appreciated. Only a pessimist or a snob would dismiss such a question
curtly.
If a lady's dress has been torn, or trimming or braid ripped and left
trailing after contact with the nails in a packing-box on the sidewalk,
or from some similar accident, it is polite to call her attention to
the disaster. A gentleman may do this with perfect propriety if he
sees that she is not aware of it. He should preface the information
with "Pardon me," and should lift his hat, as always when offering any
civility.
When attending to business at banks, post-office, railroad
ticket-offices, etc., one should pay no attention to other people,
further than to guard against allowing one's absorbing interest in
one's own affairs to make one regardless of the just rights of others
in the matter of "turn" at ticket or stamp windows, or in the use of
the public desk, pens, etc.--trifling tests of good manners that
distinguish the well-bred, _and which illustrate very pointedly the
truth that selfishness is always vulgar, and that an unfailing habit of
considering other people's comfort is a mark of gentle breeding_.
A lady should say "Thank you" to a gentleman who gives up a seat to her
in a street-car or other public conveyance, where, having _paid_ for a
seat, he has a _right_ to it, and his voluntary relinquishment of it is
a matter of _personal courtesy_ on his part. The woman who slides into
a place thus offered without acknowledging the obligation is very
thoughtless, or else she has erroneous ideas of how far chivalry is
bound to be the slave of selfishness. If the lady is accompanied by a
gentleman, he, too, should say "Thank you," and lift his hat. He
should also be thoughtful not to take the next vacated seat himself
without first offering it to the polite stranger.
A young woman, strong and well, may properly give up her seat to a
fragile woman, or a mother with a baby, or to an elderly man or woman.
Young ladies of leisure, who are not weary, should not be too ready to
"oust" tired clerks and laboring men whose ride home at six o'clock is
their first chance to sit down, for ten hours. A _gentleman_ is
chivalrous; and there is a corresponsive quality in a _lady_, which
makes her delicately sensitive about unjustly imposing on that
chivalry, or which, in emergencies of sickness or disaster, enables
_her_ to be the _chivalrous in spirit_, and bear on her slender
shoulders the burden that is temporarily dropped when some stroke of
Providence lays the strong man low.
On the other hand, there are women of coarse fibre, who imagine that
they vastly increase their own importance by being selfishly exacting
in the matter of men's self-sacrificing attentions. They may browbeat
the men who are in their power; but, outside of this narrow world of
their own, they are held in thorough contempt by the very men whose
admiration they had hoped to gain by their aggressive and ill-tempered
demands.
Men who smoke on the street should avoid the crowded promenade, where
ladies "most do congregate;" since it is nearly impossible to avoid
annoying some one with the smoke.
In most towns, the Board of Health ordinance forbidding spitting on
floors, sidewalks, etc., is not only a hygienic safe-guard, but a much
needed enforcement of good manners. Comment is superfluous.
Based upon an idea borrowed from olden days--that the right arm, the
"sword arm," should be free for defense--a custom formerly prevailed
for a man, walking with a lady, to place her always at his left side.
Then later--also with some idea of shielding her from danger--it was
the custom for a man to walk next to the curbstone, whether it happened
to be left or right. This is still the rule, unless the sidewalk is
crowded; in which case a man walks at the side next the opposing
throng, in order to shield a lady from the elbows of the passers-by.
Authorities are divided on the subject of elevator etiquette, some
denouncing in round terms the man who is so rude as to keep his hat on
in an elevator where there are ladies; arguing that the elevator is a
"little room," an "interior," not a thoroughfare. Others are equally
emphatic in asserting that the elevator _is_ a thoroughfare, _merely_;
and that hats are not to be removed, except under the same conditions
that would call for their removal in the street--as the greeting of
acquaintances, or the exchange of civilities. The good sense of this
view is apparent. A hat held in the hand in a crowded elevator is sure
to be in the way, and liable to be crushed. A gentleman who wishes to
compromise between stolid ignoring of the ladies who are strangers, and
superfluous recognition of their presence, may lift his hat and replace
it immediately, when a lady enters the elevator, or when he enters an
elevator where ladies already are. Such a courtesy differs from a
greeting in this: a stranger offering this elevator civility _does not
look at the lady_, nor does he bend his head; and his lifted hat is an
impersonal tribute to the sex. A lady makes _no response_ to such a
courtesy; yet there is in her general bearing a subtle something, hard
to describe, but which every gentleman will readily recognize, that
shows whether or not she observes and appreciates his little act of
deference. The atmosphere of good manners may be as invisible as the
air about us; but we know when we are breathing it.
During a promenade in the day-time, a lady does not take a man's arm
unless she is feeble from age or ill-health, and needs the support. In
the evening, a gentleman walking with a lady may offer her his arm. On
no account should a man take a woman's arm. This is a disrespectful
freedom, that might be supposed to be the specialty of the rustic beau,
if it were not so frequently observed in city thoroughfares.
The "cut direct" is the rudest possible way of dropping an
acquaintance; and is allowable only in the case of some flagrant
offender who deserves public and merciless rebuke. Ordinarily, the
result sought--of ending an undesired acquaintance--is attained by a
persistently cold courtesy, supplemented by as much avoidance as
possible; drifting apart, not sinking each other's craft without
warning.
As crowds are distracting, and people bent on their own errands are
often oblivious of their surroundings, it is quite possible for a
seeming cut to have been an unconscious oversight. When an
acquaintance seems not to see one, though close at baud, it is possible
that something closer yet to his consciousness is absorbing all his
thoughts. Only clear and unmistakable evidence of _intention_ should
lead one to infer a slight. It is not only more _polite_, but more
_self-respecting_, to "take offense" _slowly_.