Of Travelling 159
PART III.
OF PROPRIETY IN RELATION TO PLEASURES.
CHAPTER I.
Of Entertainments. 163
CHAPTER II.
Of Promenades, Parties, and Amusements 171
Sect. 1. Of Promenades ibid.
2. Of Parties and Amusements 175
3. Little Sports and Games of Society 180
CHAPTER III.
Of Balls, Concerts, and Public Shows 182
Sect. 1. Of Balls ibid.
2. Of Concerts 188
3. Of Public Shows and Spectacles 189
CHAPTER IV.
Of the Duties of Hospitality 193
PART IV.
OF PROPRIETY AS REGARDS OTHER CIRCUMSTANCES.
CHAPTER I.
Of Marriage and Baptism 196
Sect. 1. Of Marriage ibid.
2. Of Baptism 202
CHAPTER II.
Of Duties toward the Unfortunate 205
Sect. 1. Of Duties toward the Sick, Infirm, and Unfortunate ibid.
2. Of Funerals and Mourning 208
PART I.
INTRODUCTION.
_Of Propriety of Deportment, and its Advantages._
Propriety of deportment, or _bienséance_, is a happy union of the moral
and the graceful; it should be considered in two points of view, and
ought therefore to direct us in our important duties, as well as our
more trifling enjoyments. When we regard it only under this last aspect,
some contend that mere intercourse with the world gives a habit and
taste for those modest and obliging observances which constitute true
politeness; but this is an error. Propriety of deportment, is the
valuable result of a knowledge of one's-self, and of respect for the
rights of others; it is a feeling of the sacrifices which are imposed on
self-esteem by our social relations; it is, in short, a sacred
requirement of harmony and affection. But the usage of the world is
merely the gloss, or rather the imitation of propriety: since instead of
being like that, based upon sincerity, modesty and courtesy, it
consists, in not being constant in anything, and in amusing itself by
playing off its feelings and ridicule, against the defects and
excellences of others, provided that this is done with grace, and is
never carried so far as to wound the self-esteem of any one. Thanks to
custom, it is sufficient in order to be recognised as amiable, that he
who is the subject of a malicious pleasantry may laugh as well as the
author of it. The usage of the world is therefore often nothing more
than a skilful calculation of vanity, a futile game, a superficial
observance of form, a false politeness which would lead to frivolity or
perfidy, did not true politeness animate it with delicacy, reserve and
benevolence. Would that custom had never been separated from this
virtuous amiableness! We should then never see well-intentioned and good
people suspicious of politeness; and when victims to the deceitful,
justly exclaim with bitterness, _This is your man of politeness_; nor
should we ever have made a distinction between the fixed principles of
virtue, and what is fit and expedient. The love of good, in a word,
virtue, is then the soul of politeness; the feeling of a just harmony
between our interest and our social relations, is also indispensable to
this agreeable quality. Excessive gaiety, extravagant joy, great
depression, anger, love, jealousy, avarice, and generally all the
passions, are too often dangerous shoals to propriety of deportment.
Moderation in everything is so essential, that it is even a violation
of propriety itself to affect too much the observance of it.
It is to propriety, its justice and attractions, that we owe all the
charm, I might almost say, the being able to live in society. At once
the effect and cause of civilization, it avails itself of the grand
spring of the human mind, self-love, in order to purify and ennoble it;
to substitute for pride and all those egotistical or offensive feelings
which it generates, benevolence, with all the amiable and generous
sentiments, which it inspires. In an assembly of truly polite people,
all evil seems to be unknown; what is just, estimable, and good, or what
we call fit or suitable, is felt on all sides; and actions, manners and
language alike indicate it. Now if we place in this select assembly, a
person who is a stranger to the advantages of a polite education, he
will at once be made sensible of the value of it, and will immediately
desire to display the same urbanity by which he has himself been
pleased.
If politeness is necessary in general, it is not less so in particular
cases. Neither rank, talents, fortune, nor beauty, can dispense with
this amenity of manners; nor can any thing inspire regard or love,
without that graceful affability, that mild dignity, that elegant
simplicity, which make the name of _Frenchman_ synonymous with
_amiable_, and make Paris dear, to whatever has understanding and
taste. If all the world feels the truth of the verse which is now a
proverb,
Cette grâce plus belle encors que la beauté,[1]
every one also is sensible, that grace in conferring a favor, affects us
more than the favor itself, and that a kind smile, and an affectionate
tone, penetrate the heart more deeply than the most brilliant elocution.
As to the technical part of politeness, or forms alone, the intercourse
of society, and good advice, are undoubtedly useful; but the grand
secret of never failing in propriety of deportment, is to have an
intention of always doing what is right. With such a disposition of
mind, exactness in observing what is proper, appears to all to possess a
charm and influence; and then not only do mistakes become excusable, but
they become even interesting from their thoughtlessness and naïveté.
After the manner of St. Augustine, who used to say, _Love God, and then
do what you wish_, we would say to those, just making their début in
society, Be modest, benevolent, and do not distress yourself on account
of the mistakes of your inexperience; a little attention, and the
advice of a friend, will soon correct these trifling errors. Such a
friend, I wish to be to you. In undertaking to revise, and almost
entirely remodel, the _Manual of Good Society_, I have wished and have
engaged to be useful to you. A more methodical arrangement of the work,
more precise and varied details, in short, important applications to all
conditions and circumstances of life, I venture to believe, will make
this treatise worthy of its design.
[1] That grace, which is more beautiful than beauty itself.--_T._
CHAPTER I.
_Of propriety of conduct in relation to religious duties._
We have said, that propriety ought to preside over the sublimest
instructions of morality, as it also regulates the gayest movements of
pleasure. We proceed first, therefore, to consider religious deportment.
SECTION I.
_Of respectful deportment at Church._
Religious sentiment is the great, perhaps the only difference which we
find between man and other animals. However it may absorb you by its
depth, exalt you with delight, or withdraw from you in misfortune, this
mysterious and sublime sentiment ought always to command your respect.
Therefore, without objecting to particular differences of worship, never
enter a church without submitting to the requirements of religion.[2]
Observe silence, or at least speak seldom, and in a low voice; uncover
yourself; advance with a slow and grave step; stop, at the same time
making an inclination of your body, if any ceremony engages the
assembly. Whether the church be Jewish, Catholic, or Protestant,
recollect, that in this place men honor the Creator of the Universe;
that here they seek consolation in their troubles, and pardon of their
sins.
If you visit a church or any similar edifice, from curiosity, endeavor
to do it out of the time of service. Contemplate silently the pictures,
monuments, &c.; beware of imitating those vandals, who deface with their
obscure and ephemeral names those monuments which are destined to endure
for ages. Do not like them forget, that the only thing which you can
expect is a smile of contempt from all enlightened friends of the arts.
Do not wait till the keepers remind you of the remuneration due to their
kindness in conducting you; offering it to them with your thanks on
taking leave; and in order to this, be always provided with small
change. The respect due to the place requires us to abstain from
everything which resembles the cares of business.
I have thus far spoken only the language of toleration, and of religious
worship in general, but I am now going to use that of faith and
devotion. Let the neatness and modesty of your apparel, and your
discreet and respectful deportment, show that you perceive what is due
to the house of God. Incline your body on entering; take the holy
water;[3] then advance by the shortest way, and without precipitation,
to the place which you are to occupy; if possible, do not change it;
neither put yourself in the passage, nor carry the chairs to a distance;
take two together, to avoid turning your seat as circumstances may
require in the course of the ceremony.[4]
If the services have commenced, place yourself in the rear, in order not
to disturb those present by your coming. The same motive ought to
prevent your going away before the end, except from pressing necessity.
If you are accompanied by a lady to whom you owe deference, advance and
present to her the holy water; prepare two chairs for her, and place
yourself near. In leaving church, clear the passage for her; carry her
prayer-book, present her again with the holy water, and hold the door
open to let her pass. Indeed, these two last marks of politeness should
be shown indiscriminately by well-bred people to any who happen to be
near them, in entering or leaving the church. Kind regards towards our
neighbors are a worthy accompaniment of devotion.
If on a crowded occasion you have two chairs, it is well to offer one of
them to those who have none; a man ought even to give up his own to a
lady who might be standing. Every one knows that it is contrary to the
sanctity of the place, to walk in a church as upon a public promenade;
to convene there as in a private house; to cast on one side and the
other looks of curiosity; to have a mien which displays uneasiness or
weariness; to balance yourself upon the seat, or shake in an annoying
manner that of the person before you; to carry with you dogs, packets,
&c.
During the sermon, it is necessary to endeavor to make no noise, and to
bow with profound respect every time the preacher pronounces the sacred
name of Jesus Christ.[5]
Whether you give or withhold an offering to the mendicants of either
sex, they should be answered by a kind salutation.
It is entirely contrary to religious propriety to press forward, in
going to the altar; you ought to wait in silence your turn, without
trying to supplant those before you; however, should you have any urgent
motives, you can make them known with mildness and politeness. Disputes
which arise with regard to this, are at the same time an absurdity and
impiety.
When you take a place at the holy table, you should lay aside gloves,
book, cane, &c. It is well for ladies to cover themselves with a veil
half drawn; it is a mark of reverence as well as modesty.
[2] The directions which here follow, are obviously intended for
those who profess the Catholic religion; but most of them are
also applicable to other denominations of Christians.--_T._
[3] This refers to the usage in Catholic churches, in which the
consecrated or holy water is kept in a vase, appropriated to
the purpose, near the entrance and in other parts of the
church.--_T._
[4] These directions are more particularly applicable to Catholic
churches in foreign countries, where it is not the general
custom, as in the United States, to have pews. The whole floor
is an open area, and supplied with chairs; each person, during
service takes two, one of which he sits in, and places the
other before him to kneel upon. This custom of using chairs,
however, is not universal even in Europe; and the author
observes, in a note, that it were to be wished that in all
parts of France they would adopt the custom observed at Havre,
Dieppe, and other cities of Normandy, where, instead of having
chairs, the churches are furnished throughout with fixed seats
or benches, by which means the service is conducted with much
more order and decorum.--_T._
[5] This latter direction is more particularly applicable to
Catholic usage.--_T._
SECTION II.
_Of religious propriety in our intercourse with the world._
If it is a fundamental principle of propriety of conduct not to wound
any one in his self-esteem, his tastes, or interests, much more is it
necessary to respect his religious opinions. To make sport of faith,
that powerful, deep and involuntary sentiment, before which the law
yields; to deliver to the pain of doubting, hearts just become pious and
tranquil; to awaken a spirit of fanaticism and religious excesses; to
cause one's self to be considered by some as an imprudent, by others an
unworthy person, and by all as an enemy to politeness and
tolerance,--are the sad results of raillery against religious
observances, raillery, too, almost always dictated by a desire of
showing off one's wit.
These results take place without any exception; impious sarcasms in
serious people constantly do injury; but they become still more
revolting in the mouths of females, who, like angels, ought ever to show
themselves lovely, pure, and free from passion; whom Bernardin Saint
Pierre designates with much feeling and justice the _pious sex_.
We ought not however to proscribe entirely delicate and happy allusions,
or comparisons drawn from the sacred books, and made in a proper spirit.
It is useless, I think, to adduce instances; suffice it to add, that
rigor alone can reprove them, and that the occasion sometimes renders
them very seasonable.
As to religious discussions, they above all demand the most reserve and
care, since without our knowledge conscience frequently becomes in them
auxiliary to pride. If then you are unable to command yourself; if you
do not feel enough of logical power, enough of grace, or at least of
exactness of elocution, to contend with success, avoid controversies;
avoid them through fear of committing, in the eyes of weak people, that
religion which you defend, and of exposing yourself to lasting ridicule.
But, whatever be the skill which you exhibit in eluding the arguments of
your adversary, whatever be your triumph, and although your disposition
should urge you, never turn a serious discussion into jest; from that
moment you would lose all your advantages, and, although overthrown,
your antagonist will recover himself with this just reflection, that
'nothing is proved by a jest.'
Finally, while you manifest on every occasion a sincere and profound
respect for religion, beware above all things of making a proclamation
of your piety. Avoid talking with those in your parish, about your
confessor, and your religious observances. If you do not distinguish
yourself from the crowd, they will take you for a hypocrite, or a person
of small mind. If you recommend yourself, on the contrary, by superior
merit, they will think that you take pleasure in showing the contrast
which exists between your exalted talents and your humble faith. Between
ourselves, would they be in the wrong?
CHAPTER II.
_Of propriety of conduct in relation to domestic duties._
Since we admit that there are duties of propriety relative to piety,
there are also duties relative to filial piety, that other worship, that
familiar veneration of the Deity, whom our parents represent on earth.
The most sublime, the most touching marks of religion and of nature
unite in commanding us to love and honor those from whom we have
received life. We shall not offend our readers by supposing it requisite
to insist upon the necessity of fulfilling a duty which is felt by all
correct minds and all good hearts.
The custom has prevailed of addressing the father and mother in the
second person.[6] This mark of great confidence, and affectionate
freedom, ought never to degenerate into an offensive familiarity. We
ought always to address them in a respectful and kind tone; to
anticipate them in every thing; to ask their advice; to receive their
reproofs with submission; to be silent with regard to the errors they
may commit; to show them a lively gratitude on every occasion; in short,
whatever advantage you have over them, be careful to conceal it, and
consider them always your superiors, your benefactors and your guides.
Besides the daily marks of deference which we should show to our
parents, there are other particular attentions for which our affection
should seek every occasion. At certain periods, such as the new year,
the birth day or day of baptism, we should offer them tender
congratulations, or ingeniously devised presents. We are not allowed to
dispense with these delicate attentions. If you have success in the
sciences or arts, make appropriate presents to those from whom you have
derived the benefits of your education.
If you are separated from your father and mother, write to them
frequently; let your style be impressed with a devoted affection; repeat
more particularly at the end of your letters the sentiments of respect
and of love with which you should be inspired.
As to what your uncles, aunts, brothers, sisters, and cousins require of
you, you will know what are the duties of propriety in that respect, if
you feel how dear family ties are; you will show towards some a
respectful, and towards the others a friendly politeness. They should
claim on every occasion your first visits and your first attentions; you
should identify yourself with them in all their prosperity or adversity;
invite them above all others to fêtes and meetings at your house, unless
when you assemble a party on a special occasion, at which they would be
entire strangers. You should always take care to invite your relations
by themselves from time to time, to prove that you have no intention of
slighting them. You may be more intimate with some of your family, and
give them particular proofs of affection; but in these meetings you will
do well to abstain from every act of preference.
Without being at all wanting in cordiality, a little more ceremony
should be used towards your relations by marriage, to whom you indeed
owe as much respect as to your own relations.
[6] This is an allusion to the idiom of the French language, and is
inapplicable in English.--_T._
CHAPTER III.
_Of propriety of conduct in conjugal and domestic relations._
If any thing can render politeness ridiculous, and even odious, it is
the disposition of certain persons, who in society are moderate,
amiable, and gracious, but in private show themselves morose, rough and
ill-natured. This fault, much too common, is one of the greatest
inconsistencies of the human mind. You use all your exertions to please
the world which you only see cursorily, and in which you have only power
to procure a few moments of pleasure, and you neglect to be agreeable to
your husband or wife, from whom you expect the happiness of a whole
life. Perhaps it would be better to be continually capricious or harsh,
for the contrast of your politeness in the drawing-room with your
impoliteness at home makes you appear still more odious. Conjugal
intimacy, it is true, dispenses with the etiquette established by
politeness, but it does not dispense with attentions. In the presence of
your wife or husband, you ought never to do those things which carry
with them an idea of disgust, nor perform those duties of the toilet,
which before any one but yourself offend decency and cleanliness.[7]
One ought never to permit disorder in his wardrobe under the excuse that
he is just up, or at his own house. To dress with neatness, and elegant
simplicity is important, even at home.
The conversation of husband and wife cannot be elegant, and sustained in
the same manner that it is in society; it would indeed be superlatively
ridiculous that it should not have interruption or relaxation, but it
should be free from all impoliteness and indelicacy. If at any time the
society of your husband or wife causes you _ennui_, you ought neither to
say so, nor give any suspicion of the cause by abruptly changing the
conversation. In all discussions you should watch yourself attentively,
lest domestic familiarity raise itself by degrees to the pitch of a
quarrel. It is especially to females that this advice is addressed, and
to the impressive words of Scripture, 'woman was not created for wrath,'
we may add these, 'she was created for gentleness.'
To entertain with a politeness particularly affectionate the friends of
a person with whom you are connected by marriage; to respect inviolably
the letters which she writes or receives; to avoid prying into the
secrets which she conceals from you through delicacy; never to act
contrary to her inclinations, unless they are injurious to herself, and
even in this case not to oppose her, but to endeavor to check them with
address and kindness; to beware of confiding to strangers or to
domestics the little vexations which she causes you; to dread like
poison marks of contempt, coldness, suspicion, or reproaches; to
apologize promptly and in an affectionate manner if you have allowed
yourself to run into any ill humor; to receive her counsels with
attention, and benevolence, and to execute them as quickly as
possible--these are the obligations of propriety and love, to which
husbands possessed of gentleness bind themselves, by the sanctity of the
vows which they have taken before God. There is a still more rigorous
duty for a new husband, and for well married persons; they must abstain
in public from every mark of affection too conspicuous, and every
exclusive attention. Married persons who, in society, place themselves
continually near one another, and who converse and dance together, do
not escape the ridicule to which their feelings blind them. In society,
we ought above every thing to avoid being personal; for a husband or a
wife, is another self; and we must forget that _self_.
Mothers, in particular, spare no caresses towards your children, occupy
yourselves entirely with them, unless perhaps you fear to render them
proud, difficult and insupportable; if you fatigue people by having them
always present, if you encourage or repeat their prattle and their
sports; if, on the other hand, you treat them with severity before
strangers, if you reprimand or punish them, be assured every one will
consider you importunate as well as ridiculous.
Domestic propriety, which is at once a duty of justice, religion and
humanity, is also a source of peace and pleasure. Servants treated with
suitable regard, are attentive, zealous and grateful, and consequently
every thing is done with propriety and affection. Who does not know the
charm and value of this?
Duties of this class require that you should never command your
domestics with hauteur and harshness. Every time that they render you a
service, it claims an expression, a gesture, or at least a look of
thankfulness; it requires that you should be still more affectionate
towards the domestics of your acquaintances, and especially towards
those of your friends, whom you ought always to treat kindly. As to your
own domestics, you should carefully beware of addressing to them any
confidential or even useless conversation, for fear of rendering them
insolent or familiar; but propriety requires you to listen to them with
kindness, and give them salutary advice when it is for their interest.
It commands us also to show them indulgence frequently, in order to be
able, when there is cause, to reprove them with firmness, without being
obliged to have recourse to the false energy of anger.
The _ton_ of domestics ordinarily announces that of their masters. Never
suffer them to remain seated while answering distinguished persons who
ask for you. Take care that they do it always in a civil and polite
manner; let them lose no time, if there is occasion, in relieving your
visitors of their over-shoes, umbrellas, cloaks, &c.; let them go
before, to save your visitors the trouble of opening and shutting the
door. When an announcement is made, let them inform themselves
respectfully of the name of the person, and pronounce it while holding
open for them the door of your room. If you are not there, let them
offer a seat, requesting the guests to wait a moment while they go to
call you.
When visitors take leave, domestics ought to manifest a promptness in
opening the outer door; they should hold the door by the handle, while
you converse with the person whom you reconduct; they should present
them respectfully with whatever garments they may have thrown off, and
aid them in again putting them on; and should, if occasion requires,
light them to the door, going slowly behind them.
Accustom your domestics never to appear before you too poorly, or too
much dressed; never to sit in your presence, especially while waiting
upon the table; not to enter into conversation; never to answer by
signs, or in coarse terms.
It is only among the badly educated people of the small towns that they
say, the 'maid,' the 'boy,' the 'domestic,' the 'servant;' and among the
proud, ill-bred fashionables, who ape grandeur; the 'lackey,' the
'valet,' 'my people;' well-bred persons simply say, the 'nurse,' the
'cook,' the 'chamber-maid,' &c. and what is still better, they designate
their domestics by their christian names.
If you have ever met with those merciless housekeepers who give you a
whole tariff of the commodities which they have been to market to
purchase, attended by their maid; who entertain you constantly with the
insults and unfaithfulness of their domestics; who fly into a passion
before you on account of a glass broken, of which they require the
value, and make you witness and judge of pert discussions occasioned by
servants' mistakes; if you have had the misfortune to dine with such
persons, and have seen them hand reluctantly to their sullen
maid-servants one key after another, to arrange the dessert brought by
them with a good supply of ill-humor; if you have seen them go to the
cellar themselves, and when they have just left the table, to arrange in
a surly manner the wine, sugar, and delicacies, tell me, poor guest, if,
turning your head away with confusion and disgust, you have not an
hundred times said to yourself, 'Oh! what living and disgusting models
of upstarts or provincials.'
[7] As washing the feet, cutting the nails, &c.
CHAPTER IV.
_Of propriety as regards one's self._
Attention to one's person and reputation is also a duty. If vanity,
pride, or prudery, have frequently given to these attentions the names
of coquetry, ambition, or folly, this is a still stronger reason, why we
should endeavor to clear up these points.
SECTION I.
_Of the toilet._
Propriety requires that we should always be clothed in a cleanly and
becoming manner, even in private, in leaving our bed, or in the presence
of no one. It requires that our clothing be in keeping with our sex,
fortune, profession, age, and form, as well as with the season, the
different hours of the day and our different occupations.
Let us now descend to the particulars of these general rules.
The dress for a man on his first rising, is a cap of cotton, or silk and
cotton, a morning gown, or a vest with sleeves; for a lady, a small
muslin cap, (bonnet de percale,) a camisole or common robe. It is well
that a half corset should precede the full corset, which last is used
only when one is dressed; for it is bad taste for a lady not to be laced
at all. The hair papers, which cannot be removed on rising (because the
hair would not keep in curl till evening,) should be concealed under a
bandeau of lace or of the hair. They should be removed as soon as may
be. In this dress, we can receive only intimate friends or persons, who
call upon urgent or indispensable business; even then we ought to offer
some apology for it. To neglect to take off this morning dress as soon
as possible, is to expose one's self to embarrassments often very
painful, and to the appearance of a want of education. Moreover, it is
well to impose upon yourself a rule to be dressed at some particular
hour (the earliest possible,) since occupations will present themselves
to hinder your being ready for the day; and you will easily acquire the
habit of this. Such disorder of the toilet can be excused when it occurs
rarely, or for a short time, as in such cases it seems evidently owing
to a temporary embarrassment; but if it occur daily, or constantly; if
it seems the result of negligence and slovenliness, it is unpardonable,
particularly in ladies, whose dress seems less designed for clothing
than ornament.
To suppose that great heat of weather will authorise this disorder of
the toilet, and will permit us to go in slippers, or with our legs and
arms bare, or to take nonchalant or improper attitudes, is an error of
persons of a low class, or destitute of education. Even the weather of
dog-days would not excuse this; and if we would remain thus dressed, we
must give directions that we are not at home. On the other hand, to
think that cold and rainy weather excuses like liberties, is equally an
error. You ought not to be in the habit of wearing large socks (this is
addressed particularly to ladies,) as socks of list and similar
materials; much less noisy shoes, such as wooden ones, galoches lined
with fur, shoes with wooden soles, socks, &c.; this custom is in the
worst taste. When you go to see any one, you cannot dispense with taking
off your socks or clogs before you are introduced into the room. For to
make a noise in walking is entirely at variance with good manners.
However pressed one may be, a lady of good breeding should not go out in
a morning dress, neither with an apron nor cap, even if it is made of
fine cloth and trimmed with ribbands; nor should a well-bred man show
himself in the street in a waistcoat only, a jacket without sleeves, &c.
We said before that the dress should be adapted to the different hours
of the day. Ladies should make morning calls in an elegant and simple
négligé, all the details of which we cannot give, on account of their
multiplicity and the numerous modification of fashion. We shall only say
that ladies generally should make these calls in the dress which they
wear at home. Gentlemen may call in an outside coat, in boots and
pantaloons, as when they are on their ordinary business. In short, this
dress is proper for gentlemen's visits in the middle of the day. With
regard to ladies, it is necessary for them when visiting at this time,
to arrange their toilet with more care. Ceremonious visits, evening
visits, and especially balls, require more attention to the dress of
gentlemen, and a more brilliant costume for ladies. There are for the
latter, head-dresses particularly designed for such occasions, and for
no other, such as rich blond caps, ornamented with flowers, brilliant
_berrets_ and _toques_, appropriate to the drawing-room.
The nicest cloth, new and very fine linen, an elegant but plain
waistcoat; a beautiful watch, to which is attached a single costly key,
thin and well polished shoes, an entirely new hat, of a superior
quality--this is a dress at once recherché and rigorously exact, for
gentlemen of good taste and _ton_. One's profession requires very little
modification of this costume; we should observe, however, that men of
science (savans) and literary men and those in the profession of the
law, should avoid having a fashionable or military costume, which is
generally adopted by students, commercial men, and _exquisites_, for the
sake of _ton_ or for want of something to do.
Situation in the world determines among ladies, those differences, which
though otherwise well marked, are becoming less so every day. Every one
knows that whatever be the fortune of a young lady, her dress ought
always, in form as well as ornaments, to exhibit less of a recherché
appearance and should be less showy than that of married ladies. Costly
cashmeres, very rich furs, and diamonds, as well as many other brilliant
ornaments, are to be forbidden a young lady; and those who act in
defiance of these rational marks of propriety make us believe that they
are possessed of an unrestrained love of luxury, and deprive themselves
of the pleasure of receiving these ornaments from the hand of the man of
their choice.
All ladies cannot use indiscriminately the privilege which marriage
confers upon them in this respect, and the toilet of those whose fortune
is moderate should not pass the bounds of an elegant simplicity.
Considerations of a more elevated nature, as of good domestic order, the
dignity of a wife, and the duties of a mother, come in support of this
law of propriety, for it concerns morality in all its branches.
We must beware of a shoal in this case; frequently a young lady of small
fortune, desiring to appear decently in any splendid assembly, makes
sacrifices in order to embellish her modest attire. But these sacrifices
are necessarily inadequate; a new and brilliant article of dress is
placed by the side of a mean or old one. The toilet then wants harmony,
which is the soul of elegance as well as of beauty. Moreover, whatever
be the opulence which you enjoy, luxury encroaches so much upon it, that
no riches are able to satisfy its demands; but fortunately propriety,
always in accordance with reason, encourages by this maxim social and
sensible women. Neither too high, nor too low; it is equally ridiculous
either to pretend to be the most showy, or to display the meanest attire
in an assembly.
The rules suitable to age resemble those which mediocrity of fortune
imposes; for instance, old ladies ought to abstain from gaudy colors,
recherché designs, too late fashions, and graceful ornaments, as
feathers, flowers, and jewels. A lady in her decline dressed in her
hair, and wearing a dress with short sleeves, adorned with collars,
bracelets, &c. offends against propriety as much as against her interest
and dignity.
The rigorous simplicity of the dress of men establishes but very little
difference between that of young and old. The latter, however, ought to
choose grave colors, not to follow the fashions too closely; to avoid
garments too tight or too short, and not to have in view in their toilet
any other object but ease and neatness. Unless the care of their health,
or complete baldness, requires them to wear a wig,[8] it is more proper
that old persons should show their white and noble heads. Old ladies,
whom custom requires to conceal this respectable sign of a long life,
should at least avoid hair too thick or too full of curls.
If they would not appear ridiculous and clothed in a manner disagreeable
or offensive, ladies ought to adopt in summer light garments, and
delicate colors, and in winter, furs, thick and warm fabrics, and deep
colors. Men till lately were almost free from this obligation; they used
to be constantly clothed in broadcloth in all seasons: but now, although
this may form the basis of their toilet, they must select stuffs for
winter or summer, as may be suitable. It is in good ton for gentlemen to
wear a rich cloak; an outer garment over the coat (especially one of
silk,) is left for men of a certain age. It only belongs to
septuagenarians and ecclesiastics to wear doublets or wadded outer
coats.
To finish our instructions relative to the toilet, it only remains for
us to make a few observations.
It is superlatively ridiculous for a lady to go on foot, when dressed in
her hair, or attired for the drawing-room or a ball. If one dwells in a
provincial town where it is not customary to use carriages, they should
go in a chair. Who does not perceive how laughable it is to see a lady
who is clothed in satin lace, or velvet, laboriously travelling in the
dust or mud.
Vary your toilet as much as possible, for fear that idlers and malignant
wits, who are always a majority in the world, should amuse themselves by
making your dress the description of your person.
Certain fashionables seek to gain a kind of reputation by the odd choice
of their attire, and by their eagerness to seize upon the first caprices
of the fashions. Propriety with difficulty tolerates these fancies of a
spoiled child: but it applauds a woman of sense and taste, who is not in
a hurry to follow the fashions and asks how long they will probably last
before adopting them; finally, who selects and modifies them with
success according to her size and figure.
It would be extremely clownish to carry dirt into a decent house,
especially if one makes a ceremonious visit; and, when there is much
mud, or when we cannot walk with skill, it is proper to go in a
carriage, or at least to put in requisition the services of a shoe-black
at a short distance from the house.
[8] Young people who become bald, should not hesitate to have recourse
to wigs. Nothing more saddens the appearance, than those bald
skulls, which seem always to invite the observations of the
anatomist.
SECTION II.
_Of Reputation._
Among the cares which propriety obliges us to take of our person, to
please is but an accessary circumstance; the principal end is to
indicate by cleanliness, and the suitableness of apparel, that good
order, a sense of what is right, and politeness in all things, direct
our thoughts and actions. In this point of view, we see that a regard to
reputation is the necessary consequence of the duties of propriety
toward one's self.
To inspire esteem and consideration, is then the grand object of
propriety of conduct; for without this treasure, the relations of
society would be a humiliation and punishment. They are obtained by the
accomplishment of our obligations of family and of our profession; by
our probity and good manners; by our fortune and situation in society.
Consideration is not acquired by words; an article so precious demands a
real value; it demands also the assistance of discretion. So that we
must begin by fulfilling exactly our duties towards relations; but we
must beware of making public those petty quarrels, and little
differences of interest, of ill humor or opinion, which sometimes
trouble families most closely united. These momentary clouds, soon
dissipated by affection and confidence, would be engraven on the memory
of others as a proof of your domestic discords, and in the end, of your
faults.[9]
Probity, that powerful means of obtaining consideration, by its elevated
and religious nature, is not within our investigation of the principles
of politeness.
This is not the case with that consideration which is attached to purity
of morals. The proof of probity is in probity itself; but, thanks to the
delicate shades of reputation, in regard to chastity, there exists,
independently of good conduct, a multitude of cares, and precautions,
which, however minute and embarrassing at times, ought never to be
neglected. Ladies, to whom the advice contained in this paragraph is
particularly addressed, know how the shadow of suspicion withers and
torments them. This shadow, it is necessary to avoid at all hazards, and
on that account to submit to all the requirements of propriety.
Young married ladies are at liberty to visit by themselves their
acquaintances, but they cannot present themselves in public without
their husband, or an aged lady. They are at liberty however to walk with
young married ladies or unmarried ones, while the latter should never
walk alone with their companions. Neither should they show themselves
except with a gentleman of their family, and then he should be a near
relation or of respectable age.
Except in certain provincial towns, where there is a great strictness in
behavior, young married ladies receive the visits of gentlemen; they
permit their company in promenades, without suffering the least injury
to their reputation, provided it is always with men of good morals, and
that they take care to avoid every appearance of coquetry. Young widows
have equal liberty with married ladies.
A lady ought not to present herself alone in a library, or a museum,
unless she goes there to study or work as an artist.
A lady ought to have a modest and measured gait; too great hurry injures
the grace which ought to characterize her. She should not turn her head
on one side and the other, especially in large towns, where this bad
habit seems to be an invitation to the impertinent. If such persons
address her in any flattering or insignificant terms, she should take
good care not to answer them a word. If they persist, she should tell
them in a brief and firm, though polite tone, that she desires to be
left to herself. If a man follow her in silence, she should pretend not
to perceive him, and at the same time hasten a little her step.
Towards the close of the day, a young lady would conduct herself in an
unbecoming manner, if she should go alone; and if she passes the evening
with any one, she ought to see that a domestic comes to accompany her,
if not, to request the person whom she is visiting, to allow some one to
do so. But however much this may be considered proper, and consequently
an obligation, a married lady well educated will disregard it if
circumstances prevent her being able, without trouble, to find a
conductor.
If the master of the house wishes to accompany you himself, you must
excuse yourself politely from giving him so much trouble, but finish
however by accepting. On arriving at your house, you should offer him
your thanks. In order to avoid these two inconveniences, it will be well
to request your husband, or some one of your relations to come and wait
upon you; you will in this way avoid still another inconvenience; in
small towns, where malice is excited by ignorance and want of something
to do, they frequently censure the most innocent acts; it is not
uncommon to hear slanderous and silly gossips observe, that madame
such-a-one goes to madame such-a-one's for the sake of returning with
her husband. The seeds of such an imputation, once sown, quickly come to
maturity.
The care of the reputation of ladies further demands that they should
have a modest deportment; should abstain from forward manners, and free
speeches.
[9] As to the means of obtaining consideration, in performing the
duties appertaining to our station in life, see the following
chapters.
CHAPTER V.
_Of propriety, in regard to one's business or profession._
Besides general politeness, that ready money which is current with all,
there is a polite deportment suited to every profession. Interest,
custom, and the desire of particular esteem, the necessity of moderating
the enthusiasm which almost constantly animates us,--are the motives
which determine the different kinds of politeness that we are going to
consider as regards shopkeepers, people in office, lawyers, physicians,
artists, military men, and ecclesiastics. As all this politeness is
mutual, we shall necessarily speak of the obligations imposed upon
people who have intercourse with these different persons.
SECTION I.
_Politeness of Shopkeepers and Customers._
Politeness in shopkeepers is a road to fortune, which the greater part
of them are careful not to neglect, especially at Paris, where we find
particularly the model of a well-bred shopkeeper. It is this model that
we wish to hold up even to some Parisians, and to the retail dealers of
the provincial towns, as well as to those who are unacquainted with
trade, but are destined to that profession.
When a customer calls, the shopkeeper should salute him politely,
without inquiring after his health, unless he be intimately acquainted
with him. He then waits until the customer has made known his wishes,
advances toward him, or brings forward a seat, then shows him, with
great civility, the articles for which he has inquired. If the purchaser
be difficult to suit, capricious, ridiculous, or even disdainful, the
shopkeeper ought not to appear to perceive it; he may however in such
cases, show a little coldness of manner.
The part which shopkeepers have to act is frequently painful, we must
allow; there are some people who treat them like servants; there are
some _capricious fashionables_, who go into a shop only to pass the
time, to see the new fashions, and who, with this object make the
shopkeeper open a hundred bundles, show heaps of goods, and finish by
going out, saying in a disdainful tone that nothing suits them. There
are some merciless purchasers who contend for a few cents with all the
tenacity of avarice, obstinacy and pride; however, under all these
vexations, the shopkeeper must show constant urbanity. He waits upon
such imperious purchasers with readiness, but nevertheless in silence,
for he must be convinced that the more complying we are to people of
this sort, the more haughty and difficult they show themselves.
With _capricious fashionables_, his patience should never forsake him;
and although he well knows what will be the result of their fatiguing
call, he nevertheless should show them his goods, as if he thought they
really intended to buy; for sometimes this tempts them to purchase. Even
though his politeness should be all lost, he should still express his
regret at not having been able to suit the lady, and hope to be more
fortunate another time; he should then conduct her politely to the door,
which he should hold open until her carriage leaves it.
A shopkeeper who wishes to save time, words and vexation, who even feels
the dignity of his profession, ought to sell at a fixed price, or if he
does not announce that he sells in that mode, he ought at least to adopt
it, and not to have what is called an _asking_ price. If however he has
to do with those gossips who think themselves cheated unless something
is abated, or who design to impose sacrifices on the shopkeepers, it is
necessary to carry on this ridiculous skirmishing politely, and to yield
by degrees, without exhibiting any marks of displeasure at these
endless debates. But the dealer of _bon ton_ abstains from those lofty
assurances, those laughable adjurations, declarations of loss, and of
preference, as, _I lose all profit, it is because it is you_, and other
foolish things, which make a lackey's office of a truly respectable
profession.
The clerks should carry the articles purchased to the desk, whither they
should politely conduct the purchaser; they then should make up the
bundle which they should not deliver until the bill is settled, and the
purchaser is ready to depart. If the latter is not on foot, the bundle
should not be delivered until he is seated in the carriage, and the door
is ready to be shut. If, on the contrary, the purchaser is not in a
carriage, he must be asked whether he wishes to have the bundle carried
home. This politeness is indispensable if the bundle is large, and
especially if the purchaser is a lady.
It is further necessary that the person at the desk should offer small
change for the balance of the purchase, and should apologise if he is
obliged to give copper or heavy money; he ought to present a bill of the
articles, and not show any ill-humor if the purchaser thinks proper to
look over it.
There is one circumstance which tries the politeness of the most civil
shopkeepers; it is when an assortment is wanted. It is indeed irksome
enough to show a great quantity of goods, and give patterns of them,
with the certainty almost that all you do will avail nothing. But it
ought not to be forgotten, that like all other qualities, politeness has
its trials, and that perhaps the person who has thus chanced to call at
their shop, will be induced by this amenity of behavior, to continue
always a customer.
We trust that the shopkeepers' clerks, in the recommendations which we
are now about to give them, will not see any silly attempt to address
them with smart sayings.
By enjoining upon them to avoid volubility--a disrespectful familiarity
toward ladies--extravagant praises of their goods--an affected zeal in
serving rich persons--an impolite tardiness, and disdainful inattention
to people of a diffident manner--the ridiculous habit of wishing to make
conversation--to urge people to buy whether they wish to or not--to stun
them with the names of all the goods in the shop--by enjoining upon them
to avoid these things, we intend less to join in than to preserve them
from the reproaches of fault finders.
Every civility ought to be reciprocal, or nearly so. If the officious
politeness of the shopkeeper does not require an equal return, he has at
least a claim to civil treatment; and, finally, if this politeness
proceed from interest, is this a reason why purchasers should add to
the unpleasantness of his profession, and trouble themselves little at
violating the laws of politeness? Many very respectable people allow
themselves so many infractions on this point, that I think it my duty to
dwell upon it.
You should never say, _I want such a thing_, but, _have the goodness to
show me_, or _show me, if you please, that article_, or use some other
polite form of address. If they do not show you at first the articles
you desire, and you are obliged to examine a great number, apologize to
the shopkeeper for the trouble you give him. If, after all you cannot
suit yourself, renew your apologies, when you go away.
If you make small purchases, say, _I ask your pardon_, or _I am sorry
for having troubled you for so trifling a thing_. If you spend a
considerable time in the selection of articles, apologize to the
shopkeeper who waits for you to decide.
If the price seems to you too high, and that the shop has not fixed
prices, ask an abatement in brief and civil terms, and without ever
appearing to suspect the good faith of the shopkeeper. If he does not
yield, do not enter into a contest with him, but go away, after telling
him politely that you think you can obtain the article cheaper
elsewhere, but if not, that you will give him the preference. If the
clerk ends by asking whether you wish for any other article, answer
always in a manner to encourage him that you will call again. We should
never neglect to be agreeable. Thank him always when you go out.
SECTION II.
_Politeness between Persons in Office and the Public._
This is not very conspicuous; nor can it be, since in this case, the
desire of pleasing and the expectation of gain, have no influence.
Besides, as we remain but a moment with these gentlemen, and as they
have business with a great many people, the observances and forms of
politeness would be misplaced. The following are points to be observed
by them, and are by no means rigid; the greater therefore the reason for
conforming to them.
A man in office is not obliged to rise and salute people, nor to offer
them a seat; it is enough for him to receive them by an inclination of
the head, and make a sign with the hand, to intimate to them to be
seated. The business being finished, he salutes them on leaving, as
before, and never conducts them back to the door. It would be ridiculous
to be offended with these _bureaucratic_ forms, and still more so, to
wish to enter into conversation, to make inquiries concerning the
health, &c. In proportion to their official habits, those in office
ought to watch themselves with care in society.
SECTION III.
_Politeness of Lawyers and their Clients._
Politeness is a very difficult thing for this respectable class, who see
constantly before their eyes people always animated with a feeling which
renders them little amiable, namely, interest. Besides, being in the
habit of refuting their adversaries, and being obliged to do it
promptly, they acquire, in general, a kind of bluntness, a decisive
tone, a spirit of contradiction, of which they ought to be distrustful
in society, and also in their places of business. The familiar usage of
common inquiries after the health is not customary between attorneys or
advocates and their clients, unless they have before been acquainted
with them. They are however bound to observe attentions which are not
practised by persons in office. They rise to salute their clients, offer
them a seat, and conduct them to the door when they take leave; they
observe what is due to sex, rank, and age.
As to clients, they ought to conform to the ordinary rules of civility;
they ought, moreover, not to exhibit any signs of impatience while they
are waiting until they can be received. They should take care to be
clear and precise in the narration of their business, and not to
importune by vain repetitions or passionate declamations, the counsellor
who is listening to them. They should also consider that his moments are
precious, and should retire so soon as they shall have sufficiently
instructed him in their business.
SECTION IV.
_Politeness of Physicians and their Patients._
The observances adopted in the offices of lawyers, are likewise
practised with consulting physicians; but sympathy should give to the
tone or manner of the latter a more affectionate character. Patients
well educated will beware of abusing it, and will keep to themselves all
complaints which are useless towards a knowledge of their malady. They
will answer the questions of the doctor in a clear, brief, and polite
manner; and when these questions do not embrace the observations which
they may have made on their own disorder, they will say so, at the same
time observing some excuse like the following; _I ask your pardon; this
observation is perhaps idle, but being myself ignorant, and wishing to
omit nothing, I submit it to your good judgment._
You ought to give frequent and heartfelt thanks to the physician who
affords you his advice or attentions. The circumstance of his being
unsuccessful does not exonerate you from these testimonies of gratitude;
it renders them perhaps more obligatory, for delicacy requires that you
should not appear tacitly to reproach him on account of his having been
unfortunate in his efforts.
Being obliged to speak of different wants, and of different parts of the
body, for which politeness has no appropriate language, the physician
ought to avoid being obscure or gross, particularly when addressing
ladies. A forgetfulness of these forms often renders insupportable even
a meritorious and learned man.
Every one knows, with what delicate precautions a physician ought to
speak before the patient and his family, of the nature of the illness
and of the probable consequences when there exists any danger; in what
guarded terms he should at last disclose to them a fatal termination, if
unfortunately it has become inevitable. Every body knows, also, that
however poignant may be the grief of parents, they ought never to let it
appear in their conversations with the physician, that they regard him
as the cause of their affliction.
SECTION V.
_Politeness of Artists and Authors, and the Deference due to them._
Do artists come under the common rule, it will perhaps be said? and I
shall ask, in my turn: Do they live like others,--these men, always
absorbed in one strong and single conception, with which they, like the
Creator, wish to animate matter?--who seek everywhere the secret of the
beautiful which goads, infatuates, and evades them?--passionate,
absorbed in thought, ingenuous, almost always strangers to calculation,
to pleasure, and to the occupations of the world? No, they have a
separate existence, one which the world does not comprehend, and which
they ought to conceal from the world.
If, as we shall see hereafter, one should avoid speaking of his
profession, and of his personal affairs, for a still stronger reason, an
artist ought to be silent about his own labors, his success, and his
hopes. People will accuse him of arrogance, of vanity, and perhaps even
of madness; for enthusiasm is not included in, nor admitted into
society, because there the ridiculous is feared above everything, _and
from the sublime to the ridiculous there is but one step_. Let him,
then, reserve only for his friends, for true friends of the arts, his
noble and striking bursts of inspiration.
People are also generally prone to suspect artists of jealousy. In order
to escape this accusation, and at the same time preserve the right of
telling their thoughts, they ought to commend warmly what appears to
them good, and criticise with much moderation and without any raillery
what is defective.
These observations are addressed equally to authors, with this important
addition. Besides the charge of arrogance, people are much disposed to
accuse them of pedantry. Let them therefore be careful, and check
constantly the desire of entering into conversation upon the interesting
subjects with which they are continually occupied. Let them always be in
fear of obtaining the name of a _bel esprit_, a name which calls up so
many recollections of pedantry and affectation.
A graceful simplicity, a happy mixture of elevation and naïveté, should
characterise authors and artists, but particularly female authors and
artists. Ladies who handle the pen, the lyre, or the pencil, ought to be
well persuaded that any vestige of prejudice raises against them,
especially in provincial places, a multitude of unfavorable
observations. And besides, so many half-instructed women have had so
much the air and manners of upstarts, that this opinion is almost
excusable. Now this prejudice lays it down as a rule, that every female
author or artist may be known at first sight, by her oddities, her want
of modesty, or her pedantic folly. Do away this unjust prejudice, my
female friends: it will be both easy and pleasant; you will have only to
follow the influence of an elevated soul, a pure taste; you will have
but to remind yourselves that simplicity is the coquetry of genius.
But if people who cultivate literature and the arts ought to apply
themselves without reluctance or ill-humor to all the requirements of
society; if they ought to strip themselves of all pretension, and forget
themselves, others should not forget them. Politeness requires that we
converse with an author concerning his works; that we congratulate him
on his success; that we bestow upon him suitable and delicate praises.
If any of his works are unknown to us, we should ask of him the loan of
it with earnestness; we should read it with promptitude, and prove to
him by our citations that we have a thorough acquaintance with it. If he
makes us a present of any of his productions, we shall owe him a call,
or at least a billet of thanks. Handsome compliments, and lively
testimonials of acknowledgment, ought to fill up this visit or billet.
Remember, also, that to please an artist, it is necessary to flatter at
once his taste, his self-esteem, and his cultivation of the fine arts.
Speak to him therefore like a connoisseur, or at least an admirer of
music, or of painting. Ask the favor of seeing his pictures, or of
hearing his symphonies. Contemplate the former a long time; listen to
the latter with great attention; address to him lively congratulations
mingled with thanks; then, by an adroit transition, put to him questions
which prove your desire to be initiated into a knowledge of the arts.
When an artist or a writer obtains any honorable distinction, as a
prize, a medal, dramatic success, or an academical title, his friends
and acquaintances should lose no time in offering him their compliments.
Those at a distance, may perform _this duty_ of politeness by writing.
Not only authors by profession, but literary persons who publish a
discourse, a little work, or a pamphlet, should send, in an envelope,
a copy to their family, friends, professional brethren, authors
who have addressed to them similar presents, to their intimate
acquaintances, their superiors, and to those persons to whom they owe
respect--according to the nature of the work, and to the people with
whom they have relations of pleasure, or of business. It is an
affectionate and very polite custom for the author to write with his
own hand at the top of the first leaf or of the cover, some kind or
respectful words, according to the person to whom it is addressed. These
words, which are designed to make of the gift a remembrance or homage,
are always written under the name of the person, and signed by the
author. We will here speak of a dedication only to observe, that we
cannot dedicate a work to any one, without having previously obtained
his consent, either verbally or by writing. When it is to the king,
queen, or princes, it is necessary to write to their secretary, to know
their wish in this respect. As to any other person of dignity, we may
write to him without any intermediate agency. If the members of the
royal family have accepted the dedication, the author is generally
allowed the honor of presenting his work to them.
SECTION VI.
_Politeness of Military Men._
Military politeness has, as we know, some particular characteristics.
Officers and soldiers do not uncover themselves on entering a church, if
they are under arms; only, during the elevation of the host,[10] they
raise the right hand to the front part of their helmet, cap, or
shako.[11] When soldiers converse with their superiors, they constantly
hold the edge of the hand to their forehead. On entering a drawing room,
an officer lays down his sabre or his sword. It is not in good _ton_ for
a man to present himself before ladies, in the uniform of the national
guard, unless some circumstance excuses or authorises this liberty.
In a citizen's dress, officers may wear a black cravat.
If we are acquainted with military men, in addressing them, we call them
only _general_, or _captain_; but it would be uncivil to give them the
title of an inferior grade thus we should not say _lieutenant_.
[10] This has reference, of course, to Catholic countries only.
[11] A kind of military cap.
SECTION VII.
_Politeness of Ecclesiastics and Females of Religious Orders; and the
Deference due to them.[12]_
A priest should be considered in two points of view; when he is
exercising his holy office, and when he is taking part in the relations
of society. In the first case, he is an object of special respect; and
even the title to be given him, the words to be addressed to him, the
attitude to be taken in speaking to him, are regulated by the liturgy.
But, although the ecclesiastic be not now in society an object of
religious veneration, he has, as the representative of God, or as a
minister of the altar, a right to much respect and deference. Too light
conversation, dancing and love songs, would be out of place in his
presence.
Ecclesiastics have two shoals to avoid. Their custom of preaching a
severe and sacred morality, and of catechising or censuring with
authority the penitent, gives them sometime a dogmatical and rigid
tone, a pedantry of morality altogether contrary to social affability.
Sometimes, also, to guard against this result, which they feel to be
almost inevitable, ecclesiastics, especially the more aged, indulge
themselves in unsuitable pleasantries, which they would not dare to
allow in men of the world. A mild gravity, a moderate gaiety, a noble
and affectionate urbanity--these are the characteristics which ought to
distinguish the ecclesiastic, in society.
[12] These remarks have particular reference to Catholic countries
and forms, but may many of them be applied to other denominations.
PART II.
OF PROPRIETY OF DEPORTMENT IN REGARD TO OUR SOCIAL RELATIONS.
CHAPTER I.
_Of Deportment in the Street._
Some readers will perhaps be surprised to see me commence a chapter with
the duty we owe to persons passing the street; but if they reflect upon
it, they will see that there are, even on this subject, a sufficient
number of things proper to be mentioned.
When you are passing in the street, and see coming towards you a person
of your acquaintance, whether a lady, a man raised to dignity, or an
elderly person, you should offer them the _wall_, that is to say, the
side next the houses.
If a carriage happen to stop in such a manner as to leave only a narrow
passage between it and the houses, beware of elbowing and rudely
crowding the passengers, with a view to getting by more expeditiously:
wait your turn, and if any one of the persons before mentioned comes up,
you should edge up to the wall, in order to give them the place. They
also, as they pass, ought to bow politely to you.
If stormy weather has made it necessary to lay a plank across the
gutters, which have become suddenly full of water, it is not proper to
crowd before another, in order to pass over the frail bridge.
Further,--a young man of good breeding should promptly offer his hand to
ladies, even if they are not acquaintances, when they pass such a place.
You must pay attention to your manner of walking, for fear of throwing
mud around you, and spattering yourself as well as those who accompany
you, or who walk behind you. Any person, particularly a lady, who walks
in this improper manner, whatever her education may be in other
respects, will always appear awkward and clumsy.
Every one knows that the Parisian ladies are celebrated for their skill
in walking: we see them in white stockings and thin shoes, passing
through long, dirty, and blocked up streets, gliding by careless
persons, and by vehicles crossing each other in every direction, and yet
return home after a walk of several hours, without soiling their clothes
in the least.
To arrive at this astonishing result, which causes the wonder and
vexation of provincial visitors on their first coming to Paris, we must
be careful to put the foot on the middle of the paving stones, and
never on the edges, for, in that case, one inevitably slips into the
interstice between one pavement and another: we must begin by supporting
the toe, before we do the heel; and even when the mud is quite deep, we
must put down the heel but seldom. When the street becomes less muddy,
we can compensate ourselves for this fatigue, which, however, in the
end, leaves us hardly sensible.
This manner of walking is strictly necessary when you offer your arm to
any one. When tripping over the pavement, (as the saying is) a lady
should gracefully raise her dress a little above her ancle. With the
right hand she should hold together the folds of her gown, and draw them
towards the right side. To raise the dress on both sides, and with both
hands, is vulgar. This ungraceful practice can be tolerated only for a
moment, when the mud is very deep.
It is an important thing in the streets of a large city to edge
one's-self along; that is to avoid jostling and being jostled by those
who are passing. A neglect of this attention, will make you appear not
only awkward and ridiculous, but you will receive or give dangerous
blows. One can edge along by turning sideways, contracting his arms, and
watching with his eye the direction which it is best to take in order
not to come in contact with the person who meets him. A little practice
and care will soon make this duty familiar.
To make our way along, becomes more difficult when we have a packet or
an umbrella to carry, especially if the latter is open. It is then
necessary to lower or raise it, or to turn it on one side. If you
neglect these precautions, you run the risk of striking it against those
who are coming and going, or of seeing it twirled round, and of being
thrown against a carriage, or against some one who will complain
bitterly of your incivility and awkwardness.
If you have no umbrella, and find yourself overtaken by a sudden shower,
and any person provided with one is going in the same direction, you may
request them to shelter you; they should receive your request with much
politeness, inform themselves of the place where you wish to stop, and
offer to conduct you there, unless it is too much out of the way, or
they be pressed for business; in this case, they should express their
regret at not being able to accompany you so far as you wish.
What we are now about to say, proves that a person truly polite, will
not wait for you to make this request, but will use every exertion to
anticipate it: we must observe however, whether age, sex, or dress
present no objection; for sometimes one would be treated with ill-humor
and contempt; and if you are a lady, particularly arrived at a certain
age, it would be extremely unpleasant to accost a person, who, on his
part, ought never to offer this favor, nor any other to ladies, and
whose air and immodest manners indicate at once his vulgarity. It would
be equally out of place to address such a request to those of a very low
class; but if such an one asks the favor of you, it is proper to receive
it with politeness.
Another not uncommon point of propriety to be observed, consists in
asking and pointing out the different streets. If you have occasion for
this service, you speak politely, and say in a kind tone, _Madam_, or
_Sir, where is such a street, if you please?_ You should be careful to
give this title to persons whom you address, even if they should be
porters or hucksters. It is particularly to these that you should have
recourse, for in addressing persons passing by, you are liable to meet
those, who, as well as yourself, are strangers to the neighborhood, or
to hinder those who are busy; it is moreover, impolite, to trouble
shopkeepers in their places of business. The direction being given us,
we should thank them, at the same time bowing. Parisians are justly
celebrated for the politeness and complaisance with which they show the
way to passengers, and you ought to imitate them, every time that
occasion offers. If you are a man, and a lady or distinguished person
asks this favor of you, you should take off your hat while answering
them.
There are some ill-mannered and malicious persons, who take pleasure in
misleading strangers by wrong directions. It will be enough to mention
such impertinence in order to despise it as we ought.
As to those young men who entertain a false idea that Parisian ladies
are coquettes or forward in their manners, and besides, that everything
is allowable in a large city, let them be assured that a man who dares
(as often happens) to address improper compliments to ladies, to follow
them, to listen to their conversation, or to finish a sentence which
they have begun, is a model of rudeness, an object of aversion to
ladies, and of contempt to gentlemen. A young man of good manners ought
not to look at a lady too narrowly, or he will pass for an impertinent
fellow, who, as the saying is, stares people full in the face, (_sous le
nez_.)
It is especially when there are many persons assembled in one place that
these boors play off their rude tricks; to which they give the name
_hoaxes_ for the multitude, at first because they are unperceived, and
afterwards, because the least bad among them think that the crowd are
out of the jurisdiction of propriety. This opinion, which obtains among
some persons, is an error. Politeness becomes still more indispensable,
in proportion to the assemblage. Why are crowds usually so disagreeable,
and even dangerous? It is because they are composed of people without
education, who rudely push against their neighbors, with their fist or
elbow, who neglect to follow the movement of going and coming; who, on
occasion of the slightest collision, raise loud complaints, and, by
their lamentations, their cries, and continual trepidation, render
insupportable a situation which, without this, would be but troublesome
enough.
When we meet, in the street, a person of our acquaintance, we salute
them by bowing and uncovering ourselves, if there is occasion. Sometimes
it is not enough to give a simple salutation, but we must go to the
person and inquire how they are, if we see them frequently. While we are
speaking, if there is occasion, and it be a lady, or an aged and
respectable man, we remain uncovered: it is for the latter, who see how
troublesome this politeness is in winter, to insist that the person
addressing them should put on his hat. It also belongs to the person who
is the more important of the two, to take leave first. For example, in a
meeting of this kind, a gentleman never leaves a lady until she takes
leave of him; nor is a young lady allowed to leave first a married or
elderly lady. During this interview, which should be very short, the
speaker of least importance ought to take the lower part of the
side-walk, in order to keep the person with whom he is conversing, from
the neighborhood of the carriages. It would be supremely ridiculous to
enter into a long conversation, and thus detain, against their will, the
person accosted. If we have anything urgent to say to them, we may ask
permission to accompany them. We will add, that at Paris, a young man
ought to avoid approaching, and even saluting a young lady of his
acquaintance, out of regard to the natural timidity of her sex.
If there is a stranger with the one whom we meet, we must be contented
with saluting the latter without stopping, otherwise we put his
companion in a disagreeable position. This civility becomes a rigorous
duty if they are accompanied by a lady. Ancient gallantry required that
in this last case, we not only should not stop, but still more, that we
should not salute an acquaintance, or friend who may pass; this is in
order not to force her companion to salute an unknown person (for one
should bow every time that the person bows with whom we are;) but this
custom may be modified. If it is a friend, or young man, one may be
content with making merely a motion; but if it be an elderly man, a
distinguished character, or a lady, it is necessary to salute them,
saying to the companion: _I take the liberty to salute Mr. or Madam N._
If a person of your acquaintance is at a window, and you are thought to
perceive them, you ought to address a salutation to them. But it is
necessary to avoid speaking to them from the street, or of making signs
to them, for this is a custom of bad _ton_.
To enter into a long conversation with common and low people, who make
their door-step their parlor, is to be almost as ill bred as they
themselves are.
CHAPTER II.
_Of different Kinds of Visits._
Visits are a very important part of the social relations; they are not
merely the simple means of communication established by necessity, since
they have at once for their object, duty and pleasure, and they enter
into almost all the acts of life.
There are many kinds of visits, but we shall confine ourselves to the
principal ones; as for those which only occur under peculiar
circumstances, the reader will find them mentioned in the course of this
work. The first are the visits on new year's day; next, visits of
friendship and of ceremony: we shall not speak of visits of business;
what we have said in speaking of propriety in relation to different
professions, will dispense with our entering into new details.
At the return of each new year, custom and duty require us to present
ourselves to our relations first; afterwards to our patrons, our
friends, and those who have done any kindness for us.
These visits are divided into several classes; those of the evening or
afternoon, which are the most polite; of the morning, which are the
most friendly and respectful; by cards, and presenting one's-self, and
by cards without presenting one's-self; visits weekly, which are
confined to acquaintances with whom we have not very close relations;
monthly, which are less ceremonious, but however partake of coldness: it
is at Paris more than any other place, that these visits are permitted;
such calls demand much attention to the toilet; they should be as short
as possible; a visit of quarter of an hour is long enough, and we should
be careful to retire when other persons come in.
We should appear ridiculous to wish persons _a happy new year_, in
ceremonious visits.
I shall not mention friendly calls, except to remind my readers, that
almost all ceremony should be dispensed with. They are made at all
hours, without preparation, without dressing; a too brilliant attire
would be out of place, and if the engagements of the day carry you in
such a costume at the house of a friend, you ought obligingly to make an
explanation. Should you not find them at home, do not leave a card; such
useless ceremony would astonish your friends. Merely remind the
domestics to mention your calling, and do not leave your card, except
the servants are absent; then the card should be rolled up, and put in
the key-hole. It will be well to call again soon.
With a friend, or relation whom we treat as such, we do not keep an
account of our visits. The one who has most leisure, calls upon him who
has the least; but this privilege ought not to be abused: it is
necessary to make our visits of friendship at suitable times.
On the contrary, a visit of ceremony should never be made without
keeping an account of it, and we should even remember the intervals at
which they are returned; for it is indispensably necessary to let a
similar interval elapse. People in this way give you notice whether they
wish to see you often or seldom. There are some persons whom one goes to
see once in a month, others once a fortnight, &c.; others, however, less
frequently. In order not to omit visits, which are to be made, or to
avoid making them from misinformation, when a preceding one has not been
returned, persons who have an extensive acquaintance, will do well to
keep a little memorandum for this purpose.
We cannot make ceremonious visits in a becoming manner, if we have any
slight indisposition which may for the time affect our appearance, our
voice--which may embarrass our thoughts, and render our company
fatiguing; such for instance as a swelled face, a cold, a slight
headache; in that case it would appear impolite and familiar. On the
contrary, make visits of friendship under such circumstances, and then
you will appear more amiable and zealous.
To take a suitable time, is as indispensable in visiting, as in any
thing else.
One can attain this, by remembering the habits of the person he is going
to see; by making your arrangements so as not to call at the time of
taking meals, in moments of occupation, and when our friends are
walking. This time necessarily varies; but as a general rule we must
take care not to make ceremonious visits, either before the middle of
the day, or after five o'clock. To do otherwise would, on the one hand,
look like importunity, by presenting one's-self too early; and on the
other, might interfere with arrangements that had been made for the
evening.
After making one's toilet with care, visiters should furnish themselves
with cards, that is with small pieces of card or pasteboard, upon which
their name is printed or well written. Gentlemen ought simply to put
their cards in their pocket, but ladies may carry them in a small
elegant portfolio, called a _card case_. This they can hold in their
hand, and it will contribute essentially (with an elegant handkerchief
of embroidered battise,) to give them an air of good taste.
We shall here make a digression in relation to cards. It was not
considered impolite, formerly, to take the cards of a cast off pack, cut
them crosswise into three parts, and write one's name upon them; this,
however, is now a subject of ridicule, and is only seen in provincial
towns, where they sometimes also substitute for these cards small pieces
of thick paper. Next to these cards come those made of thin pasteboard,
smooth, gilt-edged, watered, and intended to have the name in writing.
These are suitable for young gentlemen and young ladies; and they answer
for half ceremonious visits. After these, come lithographic cards, then
printed ones, and last those which are engraved. Some cards are figured
in a rich manner, presenting every degree of expensive elegance. Every
one will choose these according to his taste; but it is well to observe
that cards ornamented with borders, and those of the color of the rose,
and sky blue, are not suitable for men, nor for ladies of mature years,
because they have an air of over-nicety.
The title is usually placed under the name, and, in large cities, the
address, at the bottom of the card and in smaller letters. Mourning
cards are surmounted with a black margin, half mourning ones are of a
bright gray.
It is bad _ton_ to keep the cards you have received around the frame of
a looking glass; such an exposure shows that you wish to make a display
of the names of distinguished visiters. At the beginning of a new year,
or when from some cause or other which multiplies visiters at your
house, (such as a funeral or a marriage,) you are obliged to return
these numerous calls, it is not amiss to preserve the cards in a
convenient place, and save yourself the trouble of writing a list; but
if, during the year, your glass is always seen bristling with
smoke-dried cards, it will be attributed without doubt, to an
ill-regulated self-esteem. But let us return to our visiters.
If the call is made in a carriage, the servant will ask if the lady you
wish to see is at home. If persons call in a hired carriage, or on foot,
they go themselves to ask the servants. Servants are considered as
soldiers on duty; if they reply that the person has gone out, we should
by no means urge the point, even if we were certain it was not the case;
and if by chance we should see the person, we should appear not to have
noticed it, but leave our card and retire. When the servant informs us
that the lady or gentleman is unwell, engaged in business, or dining, we
must act in a similar manner.
We should leave as many cards as there are persons we wish to see in the
house; for example, one for the husband, another for his wife, another
for the aunt, &c. When admitted, we should lay aside our over-shoes,
umbrella, cloak, &c. in the ante-chamber, even ladies should lay aside
their cloaks in the houses of distinguished persons. In the provincial
towns they commonly keep them on. We then are announced by the servant,
if it is the custom of the house, or at least we wait until (without
announcing us,) he opens the door of the apartment.
In case of the absence of the servants, you ought not to enter
immediately, but knock gently with the finger, and wait until some one
opens the door or bids you come in. If he does neither, you open the
door slowly and softly: should you find no one, do not go about and open
other doors, or pass into an inner room, but retrace your steps
immediately, return to the ante-room, and remain until some one comes to
give you an introduction. If you are obliged to stay very long, you can
leave your card on a piece of furniture or with the porter. This is a
case of rare occurrence; but it is well to provide for it, in order not
to be taken unawares. When admitted, a gentleman presents himself with
his hat in his hand, and advancing towards the lady, salutes her
gracefully and respectfully. As soon as he observes the lady is looking
for a seat to offer him, he must lose no time in providing one for
himself (commonly a chair) this he places towards the door by which he
entered, and at some distance from the lady, to whom he should leave the
upper part of the room. He ought by no means to sit, except she is
seated; and holding his hat upon his knee must not balance himself or
sink down in his chair, but preserve an easy, polite and becoming
attitude. It would be familiar and bad _ton_ to put down the hat or
cane, before the gentleman, and particularly the lady of the house, has
invited you to do it. Even then it is proper to refuse, and not to do it
until asked two or three times. In putting down the hat, we should not
do it carelessly, nor ought we to place it on a couch, for this is
impolite. The couch, which in ancient times was regarded as a sanctuary,
ought neither to be touched nor approached by a man. It is best to put
the hat on a bracket or chandelier stand, &c. The lady of a house does
not attempt to take the hats of gentlemen, except she wishes to treat
them with familiarity, and this is seldom done in calls of pure
ceremony.
These remarks will apply also to ladies. Within fifteen years past it
has been their custom to lay aside their hats and shawls; but that
supposes an intimacy, which would authorize their abstaining from it at
the houses of those with whom they are not much acquainted; and, if they
are invited to lay them aside, they should refuse. The short time
devoted to a ceremonious visit, the necessity of consulting a glass in
replacing the head-dress, and of being assisted in putting on the shawl,
prevent ladies from accepting the invitation to lay them aside. If they
are slightly familiar with the person they are visiting, and wish to be
more at ease, they should ask permission, which we should grant them, at
the same time rising to assist them in taking off their hat and shawl.
An arm-chair, or a piece of furniture at a distant part of the room
should receive these articles; they should not be placed upon the couch,
without the mistress of the house puts them there. At the house of a
person we visit habitually, we can lay them aside without saying a word,
and a lady can even adjust her hair and handkerchief, (ficher) before
the glass, provided she occupies only a few moments in doing it.
If the person you call upon is preparing to go out, or to sit down at
table, you ought, although he asks you to remain, to retire as soon as
possible. The person visited so unseasonably, should, on her part, be
careful to conceal her knowledge that the other wishes the visit ended
quickly. We should always appear delighted to receive a visiter, and
should he make a short visit, we must express to him our regret.
Ceremonious visits should be short; if the conversation ceases without
being again continued by the person you have come to see, if she gets up
from her seat under any pretext whatever, custom requires you to make
your salutation and withdraw.
If, before this tacit invitation to retire, other visiters are
announced, you should adroitly leave them without saying anything. In
case the master of the house, in waiting upon you to the door, should
ask you to remain longer, you should briefly reply to him, that an
indispensable engagement calls you, and you must entreat him with
earnestness not to detain you. You should terminate your visit by
briskly shutting the door.
If, on entering the room, you find strangers engaged in conversation,
content yourself with the few words which the master or mistress of the
house shall address to you; stop only a few moments, make a general
salutation, and conduct yourself as in the preceding case. When you have
happened to meet the strangers elsewhere, they may unite sometimes with
the person you are visiting, to prevent your taking leave; reply in a
polite and flattering manner, but still persist in retiring. If while
you are present, a letter is brought to the person you are visiting, and
she should lay it down without opening it, you must entreat her to read
it; she will not do it, and this circumstance will warn you to shorten
your visit.