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MANNERS FOR MEN
MANNERS
FOR MEN
BY MRS. HUMPHRY
(“MADGE” OF “TRUTH”)
London
JAMES BOWDEN
10, HENRIETTA STREET
COVENT GARDEN, W.C.
1897
MANNERS FOR MEN.
FIRST EDITION _February, 1897_.
SECOND EDITION _March, 1897_.
CONTENTS.
PAGE
WOMAN’S IDEAL MAN 1
IN THE STREET 12
IN A CARRIAGE 29
IN A HANSOM 31
SMOKING 32
IN OR ON AN OMNIBUS 36
ON HORSEBACK 42
DRIVING 46
GAMES AND RECREATIONS 50
RULE OF THE ROAD ON THE RIVER 53
DINNER-PARTIES 55
PUBLIC DINNERS 83
AT A RESTAURANT 88
AT LUNCH 91
FIVE O’CLOCK TEA AND AFTERNOON AT-HOMES 94
AT THE PLAY 96
AT A BALL 103
ENGAGEMENT AND MARRIAGE 108
DRESS 113
COUNTRY LIFE 119
VISITING-CARDS AND CALLS 121
MANNER 131
IN CHURCH 145
CORRESPONDENCE 148
PERSONAL SPEECH WITH ROYALTY AND RANK 158
MANNERS FOR MEN.
_WOMAN’S IDEAL MAN_.
I suppose there was never yet a woman who had not somewhere set up on a
pedestal in her brain an ideal of manhood. He is by no means immutable,
this paragon. On the contrary, he changes very often.
[Sidenote: The ideal changes with the idealist.]
If, however, the woman whose ideal he is grows upward in every way as
she grows older, then these changes all go to improve him, and by the
time he is finished he is a very fine creature. He never is finished
till the brain of his creator ceases to work, till she has added her
last touch to him, and has laid down the burden of life and gone
elsewhere, perhaps to some happy land where ideals are more frequently
realised than ever happens here.
[Sidenote: My ideal man.]
Like every other woman, I have my ideal of manhood. The difficulty is to
describe it. First of all, he must be a gentleman; but that means so
much that it, in its turn, requires explanation. Gentleness and moral
strength combined must be the salient characteristics of the
“gentleman,” together with that polish that is never acquired but in one
way: constant association with those so happily placed that they have
enjoyed the influences of education and refinement all through their
lives. He must be thoughtful for others, kind to women and children and
all helpless things, tender-hearted to the old and the poor and the
unhappy, but never foolishly weak in giving where gifts do
[Sidenote: A man’s brain should be as fine as his heart.]
harm instead of good--his brain must be as fine as his heart, in fact.
There are few such men; but they do exist. I know one or two. Reliable
as rocks, judicious in every action, dependable in trifles as well as
the large affairs of life, full of mercy and kindness to others,
affectionate and well-loved in their homes, their lives are pure and
kindly.
It was once said by a clever man that no one could be a gentleman all
round who had not
[Sidenote: The furnace of experience.]
knocked about the world and associated with all sorts and conditions of
men, high and low, rich and poor, good and bad. Experiences like these
are like the processes for refining gold. The man who emerges unharmed
from the fire of poverty and its associations, and who retains his
independent manliness in relations with those high-placed, must have
within him a fibre of strength that is the true essence of manliness. So
many, alas! go down, down, when “puirtith cauld” touches them with her
terrible, chilly finger. And so many become obsequious and subservient,
false to themselves, in dealings with those above them.
Well! my ideal does neither. He is always true to himself, and “cannot
then be false to any man.” And he must have a sense of humour, too,
otherwise he would be far
[Sidenote: Humour an essential.]
from perfect. How life is brightened by a sense of fun! Think of what
breakfast, lunch, and dinner would be if all were to be as solemn and as
serious as some folk would have it!
If good manners are not practised at home, but are allowed to lie by
until occasion calls upon their wearer to assume them, they are
[Sidenote: On behaviour in one’s own home.]
sure to be a bad fit when donned. It may be a trifle of the smallest to
acquire a habit of saying “if you please” and “thank you” readily, but
it is no trifling defect in a young man to fail to do so. If he does not
jump up to open the door for his mother or sister, he may omit to do so
some day when the neglect will tell against him in the estimation of
those to please whom he would gladly give much. Carelessness in dress
and personal appearance amount to bad manners. In the home there is
sometimes a disagreeable negligence in this respect. At the
breakfast-table unkempt hair, untended finger-nails, and a far from
immaculate collar are occasionally to be seen, especially on late-comers
who do not practise the ingratiating politeness of punctuality.
Lounging, untidy habits are another form of bad manners. The ill-bred
young man smokes
[Sidenote: The ill-bred young man at home.]
all over the house, upstairs and downstairs, and even in his mother’s
drawing-room. He may be traced from room to room by the litter of
newspapers and magazines he leaves behind him. The present fashion of
taking one’s reading in pills, so to speak, snatching it in scrappy
paragraphs from weekly miscellanies, is but too favourable to this lack
of order. In this young man’s own room there is chaos. The maids have
endless trouble in clearing up after him. His tobacco is spilled over
tables, chairs, and carpets. His handkerchiefs, ties, socks, and collars
are lying about in every corner of the room. He is too indolent even to
put his boots outside the door at night that they may be cleaned in the
morning. To save himself trouble he bangs all the doors instead of
gently latching them. And yet, perhaps, if he could but realise that all
this is “bad manners,” he would become as neat as he is now the reverse,
and would be as decorative at table as he is, at the present moment,
unornamental.
It is not only young men whose standard of behaviour in the home is a
low one. Masters of the
[Sidenote: “Young” men not alone culpable.]
house, fathers of families, men of middle age, who are terribly put out
if any one fails in duty to them, are sometimes conspicuously ill-bred
in everyday matters. They are late for every meal, to the discomfort of
the other members of the family and the great inconvenience of the
servants. Polite to the world outside, they are brusque and disagreeable
in their manner at home: rough to the servants, rude to their wives, and
irritable with their children. Sometimes a good heart and considerable
family affection are hidden away behind all this, but the families of
such men would be very glad to compound for a little less affection and
hidden goodness and rather more gentleness and outward polish.
Apart from faults of temper, men fall into careless habits of speech and
manner at home, and one form of this, viz., habitually using strong
language in the presence
[Sidenote: On strong language.]
of women and children, is particularly offensive. Besides, it defeats
itself; for if the forcible expressions are intended to express
disapprobation, they soon become weak and powerless to do so, because
they are used on every possible occasion. After a time they lose all
meaning.
I know a family where there are sons and daughters, the latter charming
and in every respect young gentlewomen. But the sons fall far below
their level.
[Sidenote: A typical family.]
They come to the door with thundering knocks that make every one in the
house start disagreeably with surprise, walk through the hall without
introducing their muddy boots to either scraper or doormat, sit down to
meals without the usual preliminary of hand-washing and hair-brushing,
and are altogether rough and unpresentable. If friends call at the house
these young men rush away from the chance of encountering them; or, if
they cannot help meeting them, they blush scarlet, look very _gauche_
and uncomfortable, and feel miserable. They knock things over out of
pure awkwardness, and never realise that the secret of the whole matter
is the want of self-training.
[Sidenote: The secret of the whole matter.]
Girls are animated by a greater wish to please, an amiable desire that
need not be confounded with vanity, and this wish has led the sisters of
these young men to practise those small acts of daily self-denial which
after awhile produce the highest self-culture so far as manners go.
[Sidenote: The feminine motive.]
What is habitual neatness but constant coercion of human nature’s innate
indolence? What is politeness in the home but the outcome of affection
and self-respect, and the suppression of all those natural instincts of
self-seeking that, allowed their way, produce the worst manners in the
world?
If any young man desires to be a perfect gentleman, he must begin in his
own home.
[Sidenote: The young man every one loves.]
It is delightful to see some young men unobtrusively attentive to their
sisters, watchful of every need of their father and mother, cheerful and
pleasant in their manner, full of fun and brightness, yet never losing
the gentleness that denotes the fine nature, and so beloved in the home
for all these endearing qualities, that when they leave it they are
sadly missed. The father misses them for the pleasant companionship; the
sisters miss them for the boyish spirits and the exuberant fun that
never exceeds the bounds of good taste and refinement; and the mother
misses them more than any one else, for no one better than she knows how
many times a day her boys have set aside their own wishes in deference
to hers, quietly, silently, unostentatiously--in a word, out of pure
good manners, in the deepest, highest, truest sense of the words.
[Sidenote: “Gentle, yet virile.”]
Such gentle, virile natures look out at the world through the
countenance, which is a letter of recommendation to them wherever they
go.
I have but faintly sketched my ideal. The following pages may fill in
the remaining touches.
Many men who go out into the world while still very young to earn their
living have few opportunities of acquiring a knowledge of social
observances.
[Sidenote: Difficulties in the way.]
Leaving home when boys, at an age when they are utterly careless of such
things as etiquette and the “nice conduct of a cane,” they live in
lodgings or at boarding-houses of the cheaper sort, where the amenities
of existence have to yield to its practicalities.
[Sidenote: “Where amenities yield to practicalities.”]
Meals are served in a fashion that means despatch rather than elegance,
economy rather than taste, and very few hints can be picked up for the
guidance of young fellows when they enter the homes of friends and
acquaintances.
[Sidenote: The penalty of ignorance.]
Their anxiety to fall in accurately and easily with the observances of
those they meet on such occasions is as great as it is natural. They
know well that to fail in these trifling acts of omission and commission
is tacitly to acknowledge that they are unversed in the ways of good
society.
[Sidenote: The aspirant is not necessarily a snob.]
There is not necessarily any snobbishness in this. A man may be
perfectly manly and yet most unwilling to show himself inferior in any
way to others of the class to which he belongs by birth and education.
Even should those with whom he occasionally associates be his
superiors, is he not right to try to rise?
[Sidenote: Culture and polish are realities.]
Culture may mean little or nothing to the uncultured. Polish may be an
empty word to the unpolished. But they are realities, and go far to
produce an inward and corresponding refinement of mind and spirit.
There are thousands of young men in London alone at this very moment who
are longing to acquire the ease and _aplomb_ of good society.
[Sidenote: The desire to rise deserves encouragement.]
The desire is worthy of all encouragement. Only those with real good in
them can feel it. The men who are destitute of it are those who
associate with their inferiors, contentedly accept a low moral standard,
adopt a mode of speech and action that is coarse and rough, and finally
let themselves down to the frequenting of public-houses and places of
amusement, where the entertainment has been carefully planned to suit
the uneducated, the low-born, and others whose vitiated taste leads them
to dislike what is lovely and of good report, and to revel in the
reverse.
But, unfortunately, many a good fellow has been driven to seek
companionship with those beneath him by the very difficulty he
experiences in getting on in society.
[Sidenote: Men to be pitied.]
He fancies that his small solecisms are the subject of observation and
comment, and he suffers agonies of _mauvaise honte_.
[Sidenote: A word to girls.]
Girls often laugh very unkindly at shy youths, when they might find
opportunities of acting the good angel to them, and by the exercise of
tact screening from observation those failures in good manners which are
inevitable to the inexperienced. When he finds himself the butt of a few
giggling girls, a young man feels miserably uncomfortable and
humiliated, and he vows to himself that he will never again put himself
in the way of such annoyance. Consequently he cuts good society, not
realising that he would very soon overcome these initial difficulties
and feel at home in it.
He must find amusement somewhere. It is only natural to youth to crave
it. At first his taste is jarred by those inferior to him, and his
fastidiousness offended by their manners.
[Sidenote: “We first endure, then pity, then embrace.”]
But, such is the fatal adaptability of human nature to what is bad for
it, he soon becomes accustomed to all that he at first objected to, and
even forgets that he had ever found anything disagreeable in it. After a
few months his speech begins to assimilate the errors of those about him
in his leisure hours. He uses the very expressions that jarred upon him
at first. His dress and carriage deteriorate, and he is well on his way
downhill in life long before he realises that he has quitted his own
level, probably for ever.
[Sidenote: “If he had only held his own!”]
And if only he had held his own at a few gatherings, and acquired
experience, even at the cost of a little present pain and mortification,
he would in the same interval of time be enjoying society, educating
himself in its customs, and acquiring that exterior polish which comes
of intimate acquaintance with its rules and ease in practising them.
Should this little manual of manners be of use to any such in enabling
them to master the theory, as it were, of social customs in the educated
classes, it will have attained its aim.
[Sidenote: The object of this book.]
I have always felt the greatest compassion for young men when first
introduced, after school and college life, to the routine of dinner,
dance, and ball.
[Sidenote: Those early days!]
I have not forgotten the days when shyness made my own heart sink at the
prospect of a dinner-party and when the hardest task on earth was the
finding of nothings to say to a partner at a ball. It is a miserable
feeling of confusion and _gaucherie_, and if I can in any way avert it
from others it will be a source of great gratification to me.
_IN THE STREET._
The rule of the road is a simple one, though it is often forgotten or
neglected--“Keep to the right.”
[Sidenote: “The rule of the road.”]
Easy enough for women, it is complicated in the case of men by the
necessity of always remaining on the kerb side of any lady they may be
accompanying. Should the lady keep to the right in meeting or in passing
other persons, her escort may either keep by her or go out in the road.
He will be able to judge for himself which course will be advisable.
[Sidenote: A man’s duty is always to his lady.]
His first duty is always to his companion, but that need not make him
wanting in courtesy to other women. If remaining by the side of his
companion should involve any inconvenience to the ladies of the other
party, then he must give up his position, and go out into the roadway to
let the latter pass. Should these be men, no consideration is necessary.
He keeps close by his lady’s side.
[Sidenote: “In crowded streets.”]
In crowded streets he may often have to fall behind, but he should never
allow any one to interpose between her and him. Should the pressure
from the crowd become extreme, his duty is to protect her from it as
much as possible, but never by putting his arm round her waist. A hand
on either side the lady’s shoulders is usually sufficient.
[Sidenote: Salutations.]
In meeting acquaintances a nod is sufficient for a male friend, unless
his age or position is such as to render it advisable to raise the hat.
Should a lady be with the acquaintance, any man meeting them must raise
his hat. So must the individual walking with the lady. The etiquette of
bowing is a simple one.
[Sidenote: The right of acknowledgment rests with the lady.]
Male acquaintances always wait for acknowledgement on the part of
female, as well as from those men who are their superiors in age or
position. But this does not mean that they are shyly to look away from
them and to ignore them. On the contrary, they must show clearly by
their manner that they are on the look-out for some sign of recognition
and are ready to reply to it.
[Sidenote: On waiting for acknowledgment.]
Shyness often interferes with this and makes a young man look away, and
this is occasionally misconstrued as indifference and resented as such.
The calm, quiet, collected expression of face that suits the occasion is
not achieved at once. Sometimes the over-anxiety to make a good
impression defeats itself, producing a blushing eagerness better suited
to a girlish than a manly countenance. This, however, is a youthful
fault that is not without its ingratiating side, though young men view
it in themselves and in each other with unbounded scorn.
[Sidenote: On self-contempt.]
This sentiment of self-contempt is a frequent one in young people of
both sexes. Their valuation of themselves varies as much as the
barometer, and is as much affected by outward causes. After a “snub,”
real or fancied, it goes down to zero, but as a rule it speedily
recovers itself, and in most young men enjoys an agreeable thermometer
of 85° or so in the shade!
The well-mannered man never puts out his hand in greeting until a lady
extends hers.
[Sidenote: Offering the hand.]
This is a test of good breeding that is constantly applied. To those
uninitiated in the ways of society, it would naturally appear the right
thing to give as cordial a greeting as possible. Therefore the hand is
held out, even on introduction to a perfect stranger. This is wrong. The
first move in the direction of cordiality must come from the lady, the
whole code of behaviour being based on the assumption that she is the
social superior. The same holds good with elders and men of higher rank.
When a man is introduced to these he raises his hat and bows, though
slightly. It is only to kings and princes that a low bow is made, or to
those whose character and eminent position render an introduction to
them a very high honour.
[Sidenote: Introducing men to men.]
In introducing two men to each other the name of the inferior is
mentioned first. By the inferior I mean the younger, the less important,
or of lower rank. Suppose one of the two to be a familiar friend, and
another a comparatively new acquaintance, then formality requires that
the familiar friend shall be introduced to the other, being named first.
The reason for this is that one naturally stands more on ceremony with
the man one knows least. There may be counteracting circumstances,
however, which would tend to reverse this order of things, but as a
general rule, the social rank of both being equal, the above holds good.
[Sidenote: Introducing men to ladies.]
Never introduce a lady to a gentleman; but always the gentleman to the
lady. That is, mention the man’s name first, addressing yourself to the
woman--thus: “Allow me to introduce my friend Mr. Smith, Miss Jones.”
And follow this up immediately by saying, “Miss Jones,” addressing Mr.
Smith as you do so. It is a grave solecism to begin by introducing the
lady. Tyros very naturally conclude that the lady’s name should be first
mentioned; but on thinking it over they will soon perceive that to do so
would infer that she is the lesser consideration of the two.
[Sidenote: “Woman’s social superiority.”]
It must always be borne in mind that the assumption of woman’s social
superiority lies at the root of these rules of conduct.
It is bad manners to introduce people without permission.
[Sidenote: On permission to introduce.]
Nor must this permission be asked in the hearing of the second party. If
Mr. A. wishes to know Miss B., the lady’s leave must be obtained before
he can be presented to her. The only exception to this rule is at a
dance or ball, where introductions need not be regarded as leading to
acquaintanceship. They are only for the dance, and may be ignored next
day.
[Sidenote: On recognition after a dance.]
Here, again, it is the lady’s privilege to ignore her partner, if she
choose. But if she should bow to him he must raise his hat, whether he
desires to follow up the acquaintanceship or not. Objections more
frequently arise on the woman’s side; but should a man prefer to drop
the matter he can manage to convey in his manner a disinclination to do
so, and yet behave with perfect politeness. A man I knew was once
introduced at a ball to a girl, with whom he had danced two or three
times. Before he met her again he heard that she had been actively
concerned in circulating a slander about another girl whom circumstances
had misrepresented. I happened to see the next meeting between the two.
[Sidenote: Engineering an awkward point.]
The girl bowed, smiled, and showed some sign of an intention to stop and
talk. The man raised his hat, looked extremely solemn and unsociable,
and passed on. It was enough. The girl understood that he did not wish
to resume the ball-room acquaintanceship, and very probably guessed why.
He did it beautifully.
[Sidenote: The hat and the promenade.]
Before leaving the subject of the promenade, I must clearly explain that
the hat must be raised even in saluting a very familiar friend, if (_a_)
that friend is accompanied by a lady, and (_b_) when one is oneself
accompanied by a lady, even if she be only a mother or sister. It is one
of the signs of caste that a man is equally polite to his relatives as
he is to the relatives of others.
[Sidenote: One’s duty to one’s own relatives.]
We all know what to think of a man who omits small social duties where
his wife is concerned. Even when he proves by paying them duly to other
women that he is aware of what he ought to do, he is at once set down as
ill-bred--a “cad,” in fact.
[Sidenote: A case in point.]
I once saw a Lord Mayor of London enter his carriage before his wife,
who scrambled in after him as though well accustomed to do so. One does
not expect the refinement of good manners from civic dignitaries, as a
rule, but this little action told the spectators more about the man than
they would ever have found out in the newspapers. They at once perceived
that he was unversed in the ways of good society.
But some one may suggest that this may have been on some state occasion,
when his mayoral dignity obliged him to precede his wife.
[Sidenote: The lady first under every circumstance.]
No. It was after a wedding. And besides, can any one fancy the Prince of
Wales in any circumstances entering his carriage without having
previously handed in the Princess, should she be his companion?
[Sidenote: When accompanied by dogs.]
If accompanied by a dog, or dogs, their owner must hold himself
responsible for their good behaviour. If his pets trespass in any way he
must apologise for them, and do his best to repair any damage they have
done. Should one of his dogs jump on a lady and make her gown muddy, he
must offer his services and endeavour to get rid of the traces of the
accident, if the lady wishes. Should she show a disinclination to accept
his aid, he must at once withdraw, raising his hat as he does so. Should
his dog attack another dog he must immediately call him off, administer
correction, and apologise to the owner of the dog assaulted. I saw a
young man once, in these circumstances, beat the other dog, after his
own had jumped on it and bitten its ear! He was dressed like a
gentleman, but his behaviour gave a truer indication of him than did his
garments.
[Sidenote: On whistling and singing.]
Whistling and singing are incompatible with the conduct of a gentleman
in the street, though this by no means applies to a quiet country road,
where ceremonious bearing is not required.
[Sidenote: Carriage of the hands.]
Nor is it permitted to wear the hands in the pockets when walking in the
Park, or the streets of a town or city. This is probably one of the
reasons that the cane or stick is still carried, though the original
cause, that of self-defence in an age that was destitute of law and
order, fortunately exists no longer. There are men who would not know
what to do with their hands if they had not a cane or umbrella.
[Sidenote: A word to parents.]
This is partly the fault of those who have charge of boys when they are
growing and who allow them to lounge about in slovenly attitudes with
their hands for ever in their pockets. Then when they begin to enter
society they are quite at a loss.
[Sidenote: And schoolmasters.]
At schools where boys are regularly drilled the whole effect of the
drilling is done away with by the way in which the boys are allowed to
sit and stand in the most remarkable attitudes of slouching
awkwardness. It is only when they are at drill or out walking with the
masters that any notice is taken of their carriage. And yet it is an
important point with regard to health that the shoulders should be held
well back, the chest forward, and the head up.
[Sidenote: On rendering slight services.]
Should a man be so fortunate as to be of some service to any lady in the
street, such as picking up a parcel or sunshade she may have dropped, or
helping her out of any small difficulty, he must raise his hat and
withdraw at once. Such trifling acts as these do not by any means
constitute an acquaintanceship, and to remain by her side when the
incident is over would look like presuming on what he had done, as
though it gave him a right to her continued acknowledgments. This would
be ungentlemanly.
At the same time, these occurrences are sometimes deliberately planned
by girls and women with a direct view to scraping acquaintance with
young men.
[Sidenote: On girls making advances.]
It is scarcely necessary to say that girls who stoop to this kind of
manœuvring are hardly ever gentlewomen. Members of good families have
been known to do such things in the wild exuberance of youth and high
spirits, but they cannot hope to retain the respect of those who know
them when they deliberately lower themselves in such ways as these.
[Sidenote: The risk to one’s good name.]
Picking up promiscuous male acquaintances is a practice fraught with
danger. It cannot be denied that girls of the lower middle classes are
often prone to it; and there are thousands of young men who have no
feminine belongings in the great towns and cities where they live, and
who are found responsive to this indiscriminating mode of making
acquaintances.
[Sidenote: The method can produce little good.]
But they must often hesitate before choosing as wife a girl who shows so
little discretion as to walk and talk with young men of whom she knows
nothing beyond what they choose to tell her.
[Sidenote: Seaside “Flirtations.”]
The seaside season is prolific in these chance
acquaintanceships--“flirtations,” as they may perhaps be called.
Bicycling is well known to favour them. But as they are far removed from
the practices of the class of society to which belong those gentlemen of
whom this little book treats, they may be dismissed with a few words of
advice. Should any young man become acquainted with a girl in this
manner, let him show his innate chivalry by treating her in every way as
he would wish his own sister to be treated in similar circumstances.
[Sidenote: Should the man become attached.]
If he becomes attached to her, let him first find out all about her that
he possibly can, and should what he hears be encouraging, then let him
ask her to introduce him to her family as a suitor for her hand. Should
the girl fall in love with him, let him protect her against herself like
a _preux chevalier_, like an honourable and high-minded English
gentleman.
[Sidenote: Should he be unable to reciprocate.]
If he feels that he cannot reciprocate her sentiment, he should give up
seeing her. Should she, as some girls of the kind have been known to do,
pursue him with letters making appointments, she makes his task of
renunciation a difficult one, but he should fulfil it nevertheless.
It is difficult in this way. Suppose a girl writes to a young man: “Meet
me at the tea-rooms, No. 440, Bond Street, to-morrow afternoon.” There
is no chance of replying in time to prevent her going there, and to
absent himself would be to administer a severe snub to a girl whom he
likes very well, and who has flattered his self-love in many ways during
their acquaintanceship. What can he do?
[Sidenote: “Her ultimate welfare.”]
It is a point that he must decide for himself, taking all the
circumstances into consideration, and not forgetting to regard her
ultimate welfare in the matter at least as much as his own actual
wishes.
This may seem to some young men a very “high-falutin’” view to take of
such a small matter as meeting a young woman and having tea together.
Most of them, finding that a girl was growing fond of them, would
encourage the feeling by every means in their power, regardless of
whether it could ever end in marriage, and careless of everything beyond
the gratification of their own vanity.
[Sidenote: The view of the ordinary young man.]
But there are bright exceptions to these who do not allow themselves to
be carried away by the flattery implied in a girl’s attentions, and who
can consider her welfare in selfless fashion. Sometimes fastidious taste
comes to their aid and makes withdrawal from an interesting
companionship comparatively easy.
[Sidenote: The manly young man does his own wooing.]
For, after all, the manly young man has a prejudice in favour of doing
his own wooing!
[Sidenote: Invitations from girls.]
It is not at all necessary that a man should accept invitations from a
girl to meet her at restaurants, subscription dances, bazaars, or any
other place. If a girl so far forgets herself, and is so lacking in
modesty and propriety as to make appointments with young men in such
ways as these, she cannot be worth much, and may lead the young man into
a very serious scrape. A public horse-whipping is an extremely
disagreeable thing, and yet cases have been known when such have been
administered by irate brothers or fathers, when the only fault committed
by the young man had been to obey the commands of a forward and bold
young woman--one of the sort to whom Hamlet would have said, “Get thee
to a nunnery.”
[Sidenote: They are better ignored.]
Such invitations are better ignored, though it is difficult for the
average young man to resist the temptation of being courted and
flattered, and of seeking the society of girls who administer these
pleasant attentions. But if their standard is a high one, they would say
to themselves: “What should I like another fellow to do, supposing the
girl were my sister?” (Almost always he mentally adds, “God forbid!”)
This clears up the question for him at once. If he is high-minded and
honourable he keeps away. If he is unscrupulous and self-indulgent he
meets the girl and lets the acquaintanceship drift on to dangerous
ground.
[Sidenote: The danger of the proceeding.]
Such girls as these can never tell if a man whose past and present and
surrounding circumstances are unknown to her is a scoundrel or
otherwise. Fortunately, the code of manners obtaining amongst the
educated and well-brought-up forbids all such indiscriminate
acquaintance-making.
[Sidenote: The offenders.]
Girls who stoop to it are usually those who have failed to secure
attention in their own circle, and belong, as a rule, to the sort of
girl who marries a groom or runs away with a good-looking footman.
[Sidenote: Offering an unknown lady an umbrella.]
A young man once asked me if it would be etiquette to offer an unknown
lady an umbrella in the street, supposing she stood in need of one. I
replied: “No _lady_ would accept the offer from a stranger, and the
other sort of person might never return the umbrella.” In large towns
women of breeding soon learn to view casual attentions from well-dressed
men with the deepest distrust. They would suffer any amount of
inconvenience rather than accept a favour from a stranger, knowing that
so many men make it their amusement to prowl about the streets, looking
after pretty faces and graceful figures, and forcing their attentions on
the owners.
[Sidenote: A contemptible class of men.]
Contemptible curs they are, whether young or old, and they are of all
ages. Very young girls have sometimes extremely unpleasant experiences
with such men, not only in the streets but in omnibuses, trams, and
trains. Cultivating a gentlemanly exterior, they can yet never be
gentlemen, and a good, pure woman finds something hateful in the look of
their eyes, the whole expression of their faces.
[Sidenote: Their female counterparts.]
It cannot be denied, however, that there is a corresponding class of
women and girls who make promiscuous male acquaintances in the streets,
and the young man learns to distinguish these from respectable members
of the community almost as soon as the young girl learns to dread and
fear the prowling man.
[Sidenote: Offers of service from strangers not therefore allowable.]
The existence of such a state of things makes self-respecting women most
careful to accept no advances from a stranger, and the true gentleman,
understanding this, refrains from offers of assistance that he would
gladly make were society so constituted as to be free from such pests as
the above.
[Sidenote: On removing a cigar when passing a lady.]
In passing ladies on the promenade, in the street or Park, if a man
chance to be smoking, he always takes his cigar from his mouth,
replacing it when the lady or ladies have passed on. In the crowded
streets of great cities this, if carried out in full entirety, would be
too much. Therefore it is observed only with reference to such ladies as
pass the smoker quite closely. “I know he is a gentleman,” said a girl
once of a good-looking young fellow whose appearance had pleased her--“I
know he is a gentleman, for he stopped smoking directly he saw us.” It
is in the observance of little things of this kind that one shows
clearly one’s breeding or lack of it.
When a young man is walking with a lady, and happens to meet another
lady with whom he is on more intimate terms than with his companion, he
must ask pardon of the latter if he should stop to speak.
[Sidenote: Meeting a more intimate acquaintance when with a lady.]
“Excuse me for one moment,” he would say, and his companion, if a
gentlewoman, would walk some yards on, and then slowly stroll along
until he joined her again. The strict rule is that when walking with a
lady a man should never leave her side.
[Sidenote: The rule for introductions in such a case.]
Suppose a young man were to meet his mother or sister while he was in
the company of a lady unknown to them, he must not introduce her to them
or them to her without having previously obtained special permission on
both sides. There are young men who make acquaintance with girls in a
lower walk of life than their own. It would be an insult to mother or
sister to introduce a milliner’s apprentice or an assistant in a shop,
or, in fact, any one whom he had picked up without a regular
introduction.
[Sidenote: Acquaintance without introduction.]
No respectable young woman would walk with or talk with any man to whom
she had not had a proper introduction. The inference is that those who
do so are not respectable, and must not, therefore, be introduced to
those who are.
[Sidenote: Stopping to speak to a lady.]
The old rule was that when a gentleman stopped to speak to a lady in the
street he walked a little way with her in the direction in which she
had been going.
[Sidenote: The old rule and the new.]
But now this is less observed than it used to be. The lady herself, if
she wishes the conversation to be a short one, stops at once, knowing
that it will be easier for a man to terminate it in these circumstances
than if he were sauntering by her side.
_IN A CARRIAGE._
[Sidenote: Handing ladies to their carriage.]
In handing ladies to their carriage a man offers his right arm to the
senior of the party and walks with her to the door, opening it with his
left hand. The others will probably follow without escort, but if not,
he must offer it to each in turn, holding an umbrella over them should
it be raining. He closes the door and conveys their orders to the
footman or coachman.
[Sidenote: The man takes the back seat.]
Should he be invited to enter the carriage with them, he always takes
the back seat--that is, with his back to the horses--unless specially
invited to the front one. He must not either raise or lower the windows
unless requested to do so.
[Sidenote: On smoking in a carriage.]
Should he be smoking, he throws away his cigar or cigarette at once. If
he should be a very intimate acquaintance of the lady, he may ask her
permission to smoke, but never otherwise, since it is disagreeable for a
woman to refuse such permission, and consequently she often gives it
when she really dislikes the smell of tobacco, especially in the
limited space of a carriage, should it be a closed one.
[Sidenote: Pronunciation of “brougham.”]
It may be as well to mention here that the proper pronunciation of the
word “brougham” is as though it were spelled “broom,” quite short and
monosyllabic. This is a trifle, of course, but, like many another
equally small matter, it is indicative of those accustomed to good
society.
_IN A HANSOM._
[Sidenote: Guarding the lady’s dress.]
In handing a lady into a hansom care must be taken to protect her dress
from the muddy wheel. The gentleman asks if she would like the glasses
down, and conveys her instructions to the driver, then raises his hat as
she drives away.
[Sidenote: When accompanying the lady.]
Should he be accompanying her in the hansom, she seats herself at the
nearest side to the pavement, so that when he enters he will not have to
go round a corner, as it were. In this case he gives the cabman
instructions across the roof of the cab, and if his companion wishes the
glasses to be lowered, he asks for them through the trap-door at the top
of the cab. He must never smoke when the glasses are let down--to do so
would render the atmosphere unbearable to almost any woman. But if he
knows his partner in the drive sufficiently well, he can ask permission
to smoke, should the glasses not be required.
_SMOKING._
The etiquette in this, as in many other matters, has quite altered
during the last few years. At one time it was considered a sign of
infamously bad taste to smoke in the presence of women in any
circumstances. But it is now no longer so.
[Sidenote: The domain of Princess Nicotine.]
So many women smoke themselves, that in some houses even the
drawing-room is thrown open to Princess Nicotine.
[Sidenote: The leader of the fashion.]
The example of the Prince of Wales has been largely instrumental in
sweeping away the old restrictions. He smokes almost incessantly. On one
occasion, at the Ranelagh Club, I noticed that he consumed four cigars
in rapid succession, almost without five minutes’ interval between them.
The only time that he left off smoking, during the three hours that he
remained in the Pavilion with the Princess and other ladies, was for ten
minutes when tea was handed round.
[Sidenote: The lengths to which a smoker may now go.]
It is now no uncommon thing to see a man in evening dress smoking in a
brougham with a lady on their way to opera, theatre, or dinner
engagement. This is going rather far, for a woman’s evening dress
implies shut windows, except in the height of summer, and her garments
become as much impregnated with the odour of tobacco as if she had
herself been smoking.
[Sidenote: On getting rid of the smell.]
Some men have a knack of ridding their clothes and themselves of the
fumes of smoke in a wonderful way. Perhaps one reason of this is that
the tobacco they use is of a mild sort.
[Sidenote: Try the clothes-brush.]
Perhaps the diligent use of the clothes-brush is another. But there are
also men round whom cling the odours of stale tobacco with a very
disagreeable constancy. Why it should be so I cannot pretend to say. It
must be due to carelessness of some kind, and carelessness in such
matters amounts to bad manners. Even to men who smoke--and much more to
those who do not--the smell of stale tobacco is revolting. Fancy, then,
how it must offend the olfactory nerves of women. Such men suggest the
stableyard while they are yet several yards away!
[Sidenote: Personal cleanliness a hall-mark of the English gentleman.]
A very delicate, even exquisite, personal cleanliness is characteristic
of the true gentleman, and more particularly the English gentleman, who
is noted all the world over for his devotion to his “tub” and his
immaculate propriety in all matters of the toilette. This is not
claiming too much for my countrymen. It is acknowledged by other
nations that ours is superior in this respect. Once, indeed, I heard a
curious inversion of this. At a foreign hotel one waiter said to the
other in their mutual language: “What dirty fellows these English must
be to want such a lot of washing! I’ve carried up four cans of water to
No. 47 this morning!”
Sauntering up the street of a small German town one day, two English
ladies saw, a couple of hundred yards away, a party of men standing
admiring an ancient gateway.
[Sidenote: “They must be English.”]
“They must be English,” said one of the ladies; and before she could
finish her sentence the other finished it for her in the very words she
had been about to utter: “They are so beautifully clean!”
[Sidenote: The close-cropped head.]
This characteristic is carried to an extreme in the close clipping of
the hair; but as fashion ordains that it must be worn very short, its
behests must be obeyed by all who wish to be in society and of it.
[Sidenote: The “long-haired fellow.”]
“Who is that long-haired fellow?” is the question invariably asked about
any man whose visits to the barber are infrequent. “Must be an artist or
a music man,” is the frequent commentary. Sometimes he is merely
careless of conventionalities, and by being so proves that he is rather
“out of it” where good society is concerned. The rule appears to be
that directly a man finds that he has any hair worth brushing, he must
immediately go and have it cut. It would be much more becoming if
allowed to grow a little longer, but things being as they are, only the
few can afford to defy the ordinary custom.
_IN OR ON AN OMNIBUS._
[Sidenote: The humble omnibus.]
The humble omnibus may be thought by some readers too democratic a kind
of conveyance to be considered in a book on Manners. Not at all! There
are several reasons why it should have a place in such a volume.
[Sidenote: It is now used by all classes.]
The first is, that during the last ten years or so the omnibus has been
largely used by women of the educated, cultured, and well-dressed
classes. Another and stronger reason is that no considerations of the
kind should affect a man’s manners. If he can behave like a gentleman in
a carriage, he is almost certain to do so in an omnibus, and _vice
versâ_. It is even more difficult in the humbler vehicle. In a carriage
one is seldom crowded up to the degree that often occurs in the plebeian
“’bus.” In fact, there are far more opportunities for the display of
good manners in the latter than in the former. Many of them are of a
negative character.
[Sidenote: A fine field for true courtesy.]
True courtesy, for instance, will prevent a man from infringing the
rights of his neighbours on either side by occupying more than his own
allotted space.
[Sidenote: The man who wants all the room.]
Very stout men are obliged to do so, but at least they need not spread
out their knees in a way that is calculated to aggravate the evil. Nor
need they arrange themselves in a comfortable oblique position, with the
result of enhancing the inconvenience they must necessarily cause to
those near them. Even a thin man can take up a quantity of room by thus
disposing himself at an angle of forty-five with the other occupants of
an omnibus.
The morning paper may be converted into an offensive weapon in the hands
of the rude and careless, who open it out to its fullest width,
regardless of the comfort of those sitting next them.
[Sidenote: The “newspaper” offender.]
Newspapers are rather unwieldy things to turn and twist about in a
limited space, but this very circumstance affords a man an opportunity
of displaying his skill in manipulating the large, wide sheets, without
dashing them in the face of his nearest neighbour, or knocking up
against anybody in a series of awkward movements that a little care
could easily convert into leisurely, graceful ones.
[Sidenote: The wet umbrella nuisance.]
There is another way in which men are apt to be careless, and that is in
the disposal of a wet umbrella. Women are even more so, but these
remarks are intended particularly for men, and beyond acknowledging that
members of my own sex are equal sinners, I must leave them out of the
question. When any one takes a dripping umbrella into an omnibus, he
must charge himself with the task of seeing that it annoys no one but
himself. If he can, at the same time, protect himself, well and good;
but he must be altruistic in the matter and care for others first; the
alternative being to prove himself lacking in one form of good manners.
He must not even let his wet umbrella lean up against a vacant part of
the cushioned seat, rendering it damp for the next comer.
[Sidenote: The rights of the absent.]
His social conscience cannot be up to its work if he permits himself to
ignore the right of the absent to consideration, merely because they are
absent.
Allowing umbrellas and sticks to protrude so as to trip up unwary
passengers is another thing to be avoided.
[Sidenote: Carrying umbrellas and sticks.]
Carrying a stick or umbrella under the arm with the ferule protruding at
the back and threatening the eyes of those who walk behind, is always a
reprehensible practice, and one that is fraught with danger, and it is
perhaps more than ever dangerous when the proprietor is ascending or
descending the steps of an omnibus. At such moments passengers are
liable to sudden checks from various causes, and the resultant backward
jerk can be quite annoying enough to those behind without the
aggravation of a pointed stick assaulting them. I have seen a girl’s hat
torn off her head in this way, its numerous securing pins making havoc
in her coiffure and eliciting lively expressions of pain.
[Sidenote: Entering and leaving an omnibus.]
It might appear hardly necessary to advocate care in walking up past
other passengers inside an omnibus, for fear of treading on their feet,
and to recommend a word of apology in case of any such transgression.
But there have been cases which point to the desirability of a word of
advice on such points.
[Sidenote: Apology covers a multitude of social sins.]
The ready apology covers a multitude of social sins. From some men it
comes with an expression of such earnest solicitude that, anxious to
reassure them, one quite willingly makes light of the damage done.
[Sidenote: The lady first, entering and leaving.]