recommendation, ought never to be sealed, since the bearer ought
necessarily to know the contents. But to seal it without having first
allowed the bearer to read it, would be very impolite. You should prove
to the person recommended, that you have spared no pains to render him a
service.
It is only conscripts, and peasants, who fold a letter like an
apothecary's packet, who omit to press the wafer with a seal, or secure
it by pricking it in every part with the point of a pin.
We never seal petitions which are to be presented to the king, and to
the members of the royal family.
Some distinguished persons are flattered in writing to them, by our
omitting to designate precisely their address. It is an error; we should
indicate with exactness the town, and the province, state, &c. if there
is more than one town of the same name. In a large city, it is well to
write the name of the street and number, and the quarter of the city
where the street is. People of business, abbreviate this by putting N
and the number, or the number alone; this practice is more expeditious
than polite.
We generally address a letter to one person only; but in certain cases
we may address to two or more collectively.
It is well to add to the name, the title or profession, in order to
prevent mistake. However, if circumstances have obliged any one of your
acquaintance to act in an inferior situation, it would be a want of
delicacy to join to his name that of his business.
When we write to the king, we put simply in the address, _To the King_.
To foreign kings we say, _To his Catholic Majesty_, _his Britannic
Majesty_, &c.
To persons who have the title of highness, we say, _To his Highness_,
and then their quality or rank. To ministers and ambassadors, we say,
_To his Excellency, the Minister_, or _Ambassador_. If a person has many
titles, we select the highest, and omit the others.
In billets, we put the date at the top of the paper, and begin the
letter about two inches below. The word _Sir_ is put in the first line.
We conclude with one of these phrases, _I am, Sir, yours_; _I am
entirely yours_, &c. We do not write a billet to ladies, or to
superiors, as this was introduced only to avoid ceremony.
The most familiar billets are written in the third person, contrary to
the common practice. They contain very little, and begin thus, _Mr._ or
_Madam N present their respects_, or _compliments, to Mr. Such-a-one,
and request_, &c. After having made the request, we end with, _and he
will oblige his humble servant_.
In this kind of billets, it is best not to use the pronoun _he_ or
_she_, for independently of the incivility, it might result in
confusion. Sometimes it would be difficult to know whether the pronoun
referred to the person who received the letter, or to the one who wrote
it.
I shall conclude this chapter by an observation relative to friendly and
familiar letters; not that I have the folly to pretend to regulate by
any ceremonial, the sentiments of the heart; but there is in reality
nothing more cold and ridiculous, than accumulations of epithets like
these, _Your tender, sincere and constant friend_, &c.
[16] See page 137.
CHAPTER VIII.
_Additional Rules in respect to the Social Relations._
I include under this name, everything relating to friendly attentions,
such as services, loans, presents, advice, and also things in relation
to discretion, such as respect in conversation, letters, secrets,
confidential communications, &c.
SECTION I.
_Of an Obliging Deportment._
Polite persons are necessarily obliging. A smile is always on their
lips, an earnestness in their countenance, when we ask a favor of them.
They know that to render a service with a bad grace, is in reality not
to render it. If they are obliged to refuse a favor, they do this with
mildness and delicacy; they express such feeling regret, that they still
inspire us with gratitude; in short, their conduct appears so perfectly
natural, that it really seems that the opportunity which is offered them
of obliging us, is obliging themselves; they refuse all our thanks,
without affectation or effort.
This amiable character, a necessary attendant of perfect good breeding,
is not always found with all its charms, in the world. There are
besides, some obliging persons, who force us to extort their services,
who feel of great consequence, who like to be supplicated and thanked to
excess. Do not imitate them: they make us ungrateful in spite of
ourselves, they make gratitude a pain and a burden. When one asks of you
any favor, reply kindly, "I am at your service, and shall be very happy
to render you any assistance in my power;" or else, with a sad manner,
lament that there is such an obstacle, &c. Then examine the means of
overcoming the obstacle, even if you should be assured beforehand that
none exists.
Other persons, pretending to be polite, make protestations of their
services and zeal, without taking the trouble to abide by their offers
when an occasion is afforded them: so great is their trifling in this
respect that they can be justly compared to those false heroes who are
always talking of fighting, and who would be put to flight at the sight
of a drawn sword. These indications of zeal are suspicious, when they
are employed every moment and without any reason; a knowledge of the
world teaches us to discern them, and to give them that degree of
confidence which they merit. Sometimes we can congratulate persons,
wish them well, and have the appearance of taking an interest in the
recital which they are making of their affairs, without really feeling
the least interest for them. We cannot always command our indifference
in this respect, but we are obliged to spare them that constraint and
ennui, which would infallibly be shown if we should manifest to them the
coldness which they inspire. It belongs to those persons who know the
world, not to confound this politeness, with the pretended zeal of the
Don Quixottes of the drawing-room, of whom we have spoken above.
In order that a service may be completed, it is necessary that it should
be done quickly, nothing being more disobliging than tardiness, and the
alternative, which you place a person in, either of addressing to you
new solicitations, or of suffering by your delay. Your tardy assistance
may perhaps be prejudicial, for one would suffer a long time before
resolving to importune you anew.
Make use then of despatch. If any circumstances prevent you from acting,
inform the person, apologise, and promise to make reparation for your
neglect. On his part, the person who is under the obligation to you,
should be careful of using a single term of reproach and of accosting
you with an air of dissatisfaction.
When any one who is visiting you has need of a shawl, a handkerchief, a
hat, offer it with a complaisant zeal, resist the refusal which is made
(and which propriety does not require) select the best you have, in
short, urge the persons not to be in haste to return the articles. If it
is very bad weather, and the occasion a proper one, offer an umbrella or
your carriage. These things are returned the next day by a domestic, who
is charged to thank the person for them. If the articles are linen, they
should not be returned before they are washed.
When a lady has borrowed ornaments of another, as for instance, jewels,
the latter should always offer to lend her more than are asked for: she
ought also to keep a profound silence about the things which she has
lent, and even abstain from wearing them for some time afterwards, in
order that they may not be recognised. If any one, perceiving they were
borrowed, should speak to the person of it, he would pass for an
ill-bred man. If the borrower speaks to you of it, it is well to reply
that nobody had recognised them. All this advice is minute, but what
kind will you have? it concerns female self-esteem.
One species of borrowing which is of daily occurrence, and happens very
often to the loss of the owners, is the borrowing of books. Persons are
so wanting in delicacy on this subject, that those who have a passion
for books, and who are very obliging in other respects, are forced to
refuse making these troublesome loans. The case, however, is a very
perplexing one; we cannot say, _I am not willing to lend you this work_;
but if the borrower is a suspicious person, we can say we have occasion
to use it, that we regret it very much, but that we will lend it to him
in a few days. However, we do not lend it at all.
Well-bred persons do not make a bare request for a book; they wait until
it is offered, and then they accept the offer hesitatingly; they find
out the length of time they can keep it, and return it punctually at the
appointed day. In order to prevent every accident, they cover it with
cloth or paper, since the favor should render them more careful than the
value of the book; they also take care not to turn down the leaves, or
make marks, marginal notes, &c.
If any accident happens to a borrowed article, we must repair the loss
immediately. I shall not speak of more important loans, which are out of
the range of politeness.
SECTION II.
_Of Presents._
In the eyes of persons of delicacy, presents are not of worth, except
from the manner in which they are bestowed; in our advice, then, let us
strive to give them this value.
Presents are offered first to relations and to friends; and they occur
under different circumstances; on our arrival at a place from which we
have been absent for a long time; when our intimate friends leave the
town in which we reside; on our return from a journey, particularly to
the capital; in remarkable and remote countries; on birth days, or days
of baptism, or new year's day.
But this day is not the only occasion of exchanging presents in a
family, it is also an occasion for recollecting services and civilities;
of making our respects to ladies, to superiors whom we wish to honor. It
moreover offers us a delicate means of succoring the unfortunate.
Secondly, at harvest time, if one owns land, in the hunting season, if
one is a hunter, it is in good _ton_ to send to our intimate friends,
fine fruits, rare flowers, or some choice articles of game.
The most delicate presents are the productions of our own industry; a
drawing, a piece of needle work, ornamental hair-work, &c. But such
offerings, though invaluable among friends, are not used on occasions of
ceremony.
Next to fitness of time for presents, comes fitness in the selection of
them; generally, luxury and elegance ought to reign in the latter; but
this rule has numerous exceptions: and although it would be out of place
to offer things purely useful (to which certain incidents would give the
appearance of charity) still we should be in an error to suppose that a
present is suitable, which is brilliant alone. It must by all means be
adapted to the taste, age, and professions of persons, and their
connexions with us. Thus to superiors, you offer fruits, game, &c. to a
student, books;[17] to a friend of the arts, music, or engravings; to
young married ladies, delicate and graceful articles of the toilet, &c.
Presents should excite surprise and pleasure, therefore you ought to
involve them in a mystery, and present them with an air of joyful
kindness.
When you have made your offering, and thanks have been elicited, do not
bring back the conversation to the same subject; be careful,
particularly, of making your gift of consequence. On the contrary, when
its merit has been extolled, when the persons who have received the
present, have evinced a lively satisfaction, say that the gift receives
all its value from their opinion of it.
However slight charm a present may have, or if even insignificant, we
should be ill-bred not to manifest much pleasure in receiving it. It is
besides, necessary, when an opportunity offers, to speak of it, not to
fail of saying to the donor, how useful or agreeable his present is to
you. In proportion as a long space of time has elapsed, this attention
is the more amiable; it proves that you have preserved the object with
care. And this reminds me, that we should never give away a present
which we have received from another person, or at least that we should
so arrange it, that it may never be known.
It is well to mingle with our manifestations of gratitude, some
exceptions to the high value of the gift, but not to dwell a long time
on the subject, or to exclaim about it with earnestness. Under some
circumstances, these declamations may seem dictated by avarice and a
want of delicacy; they are besides in bad taste at all times.
We often make a present to some one through his children or wife,
especially on new year's day, when it is the custom to present at least
confectionary to the young families of one's acquaintance. At Paris, we
make such presents to married ladies; in the provincial towns, we do
not. Above all, when one has received a present of some value, he calls
upon the person who gave it, or, if the distance is great, addresses to
him a letter of thanks. Every one knows that custom requires us to make
a remuneration of a proportionate value, to the domestic who is the
bearer of the present.
[17] It is not polite, when the presents are pamphlets, to offer
those of which you have cut the leaves.
SECTION III.
_Of Advice._
Advice is a very good thing, it is true; it is however a thing which in
society is the most displeasing. A giver of advice, who is incessantly
repeating, _If I was in your place, I should do so and so_, repels every
one by his pride and indiscretion. Such an impertinent person should
know, that he ought not to give advice without he is asked, and that the
number of those who ask it is very limited: we are not, however,
speaking here of gratifications of vanity, but of that advice, the
kindness and affection of which, gives it a claim to our attention. It
is necessary to use much reserve and care, because otherwise you would
seem to have a tone of superiority which would array the self-esteem of
your friend against your wisest counsels. Of the forms of modesty, no
one in this place is superfluous: we may say, "It is possible that I
am mistaken, I should be far from having the courage to enquire of
you," &c.
If a person makes any objections, do not say, _You do not understand
me_, but, _I have not expressed myself properly_.
SECTION IV.
_Of Discretion._
The duties of discretion are so sensibly felt by persons of good
breeding, that they do not violate them except through forgetfulness. It
will be enough then to make an enumeration of them, without intending to
point out their necessity.
Discretion requires in the first place, respect with regard to
conversation. If, when we enter the house of any one, we hear persons
talking in an earnest manner, we step more heavily, in order to give
notice to those who are engaged in the conversation. If, in an assembly,
two persons retire by themselves to speak of business, we should be
careful not to approach them, nor speak to them until they have
separated.
People who have lived a little in the world, know how essential it is
not to mingle with curiosity in the business of persons whom we visit;
nor are they ignorant what conduct is to be observed in case we surprise
persons by an unexpected call; but young persons may not know, and I beg
them to give their attention to it.
When we see a person occupied, we retire, or at least make signs of it;
if they should detain us, we step aside, and appear to be examining a
picture, or looking out of the window, in order to prove that we take no
notice of what engages them. But the desire to find for ourselves some
such occupation, ought not to lead us to turn over the leaves of books
placed upon the chimney-piece or elsewhere; to run over a pamphlet; or
to handle visiting cards, or letters, even though it be only to read the
superscription. If the person visited should be opening a closet or
drawers, it would be rude curiosity to approach in order to see what was
contained there. If, among a number of valuable things, they take one to
show you, be satisfied with looking at that alone, without appearing to
think of the others.
If, before the person visited comes in, we should see another visitor,
who, to pass the time, should take a journal or a book from his pocket,
it would be extremely impolite to read over his shoulder, and equally
uncivil to read what a person is writing.
It is not allowable to take down the books from a library; but we may,
and we even ought to read the titles, in order to praise the good taste
which has been shown in the choice of the works.
If it happens that any one exhibits to a circle some rare and valuable
object, do not be in haste to ask for it, or to take it by reaching out
your hand; wait modestly until it comes to you; do not examine it too
long when you have it, and if by chance any ill-bred person requests it
before you have seen it, do not detain it; it is better to suffer this
small privation than to pass for a badly educated virtuoso.
However insignificant the boasted object may be, never criticise it; if
your opinion is asked, answer a few words of praise; if the thing is
really curious, abstain from exaggerated compliments.
To violate the secresy of letters, under any pretext whatever, is so
base and odious, that I dare not say a word about it; I think, I ought
to say, that it is also very reprehensible to endeavor to read any part
of a letter folded in such a manner as to be partly open at the ends;
and when a certain passage in a letter concerning yourself is handed you
to read, you should put your finger below it in order not to read
anything more; and if you are allowed to add anything in a letter, have
the discretion not to cast your eyes over the rest, and be expeditious
so as to avoid the suspicion that you take advantage of the
circumstance.
Politeness is also opposed, in certain cases, to a too great haste to
know anything relating to ourselves. For example, if a person brings you
a letter, you should not be in a hurry to open it, but see whether the
letter concerns the bearer at all, or only yourself. In the first case,
you should open it, and read it while he is present; in the other case,
you should lay it aside.
Politeness does not, however, impose such restraints upon curiosity in
small things, and leave us free in important ones. Thus, we shall not
say that we ought religiously to keep a secret, and that confidence
received is a sacred deposit; but we shall say to persons who have
curiosity to know any private circumstance, that they ought to be filled
with shame if they do not desist all importunity as soon as they hear
the word, _it is a secret_.
CHAPTER IX.
_Of Travelling._
This chapter, although only accessory, and but remotely connected with
the social relations, should be added here; as we do not wish to make
any voluntary omission, and, besides, if in travelling, the duties of
politeness are less numerous, they are not, therefore, less obligatory.
Persons about to travel, ought to make visits of taking leave among
their acquaintances, of whom they should ask if they have any commands
for them. It would be indiscreet, unless in case of perfect intimacy, to
accept this offer, or to ask them to take charge of such or such a
thing, especially if it is a packet; if persons are very intimate, we
may request them to let us hear of their arrival.
Before their departure, the names of passengers are entered in the order
of their numbers, at the public coach offices. After this, each one
takes the place assigned him. Politeness, however, requires that a man
should offer his seat to a lady who is less well accommodated; for it
would be improper that he should be seated upon the back seat, while
she should be seated upon the front one. Some persons cannot bear the
motion of a coach when they ride backwards; and this manner of riding
incommodes them extremely. Polite travellers will take pleasure in
relieving them from this trouble. Ladies, on their part, ought not to
require too much, nor put to too severe a test the complaisance of
gentlemen. The latter, however, should at every stopping place,
attentively help them alight, by offering the hand, and directing their
feet on the step of the coach. The same thing is necessary in assisting
them to get in again. It would appear badly, to take advantage of one's
superiority of rank, to consult his own convenience alone. It is
necessary on the contrary, for him to have great care not to incommode
any one, and to show every civility to his fellow travellers.
Politeness in travelling is not so rigorous as in society; it only
requires that we should not incommode our companions; that we should be
agreeable to them; that we should politely answer their questions; but
it leaves us free to read, sleep, look about, or observe silence, &c.
A traveller would be uncivil if he should open or shut the windows of
the coach without consulting the people who are with him; or, if he
should, without offering to them, take any light and delicate food, as
fruits, cakes, or confectionary, but which they do not generally accept;
and he would appear disagreeable, if, knowing the route, he should not
point out the beautiful sites, and satisfy any questions concerning
them; finally, he would deserve the name of an imprudent prater, if he
should converse with his fellow travellers as with intimate
acquaintances.
On our return, we should carry or send the commissions which we have
received. Partial acquaintances, to whom we have offered only by
writing, to take their commands, should not expect a visit on our
return; this right belongs only to relations, friends, or intimate
acquaintances.
Finally, all those for whom you have executed any commissions, owe you a
visit of thanks as soon as it can be done.
If you travel on horseback, in distinguished company, give them the
right, and keep a little behind, regulating yourself by the progress of
your companions. There is one exception to this rule; it is when one of
the two horses is skittish, so that it is absolutely necessary that the
other should pass on first, that this one may follow.
If you happen to be on the windward side, so that you throw dust upon
your companion, you should change your position. When we pass by trees,
the branches of which are about the height of the shoulders, the one
who goes first ought to take care that the branches, in going back to
their former situation, should not strike with violence against the
person who follows.
If you are passing a large stream, a small river, or a muddy pool, by
fording, it is polite to go first; but if we have not taken precautions,
and fall in the rear, we ought to keep at a distance, so that the
horse's feet may not spatter the water or mud upon the gentleman before
us. If your companion gallops his horse, you should never pass him, nor
make your horse caper, unless he signifies that it is agreeable to him.
PART III.
OF PROPRIETY IN RELATION TO PLEASURES.
CHAPTER I.
_Of Entertainments._
Politeness ought, as we have seen, to direct and embellish all the
circumstances of life; but it is, if possible, still more necessary in
relation to pleasures, which, without it, would have no attraction.
Without intending to adopt the epigrammatic style, I will say that
dining is almost an event, so many points of propriety have the master
of the house and his guests to observe.
When we intend giving an entertainment, we begin by selecting such
guests as may enjoy themselves together, or at least tolerate one
another. If it is to be composed of gentlemen, there should be no lady
present, except the lady of the house. The dinner being determined upon,
we give out two or three days beforehand, verbal or written invitations.
During the carnival or other season of gaiety, it is necessary to do it
at least five days in advance, on account of the numerous engagements.
When we receive a written invitation, we must answer immediately whether
we accept or not, although silence may be considered equivalent to an
acceptance. In the latter case, we should give a plausible reason of our
declining, and do it with politeness. When the invitation is verbal, we
must avoid being urged; for nothing is more foolish and disobliging; we
ought either to accept or refuse in a frank and friendly manner,
offering some reasonable motive for declining, to which we should not
again refer. It is not allowable to be urged, except when we are
requested to dine with someone whom we have seen only at the house of a
third person, or when we are invited on a visit or other similar
occasion. In the former case, if we accept, we should first leave a card
in order to open the acquaintance.
Having once accepted, we cannot break our engagement, unless for a most
urgent cause.
An invitation ought to specify exactly the hour of meeting, and you
should arrive precisely at that hour. The table should be ready, and the
mistress of the house in the drawing-room, to receive the guests. When
they are all assembled, a domestic announces that the dinner is served
up; at this signal we rise immediately, and wait until the master of
the house requests us to pass into the dining-room, whither he conducts
us, by going before.
It is quite common for the lady of the house to act as guide, while he
offers his hand to the lady of most distinction. The guests also give
their arms to ladies, whom they conduct as far as the table, and to the
place which they are to occupy. Take care, if you are not the principal
guest, not to offer your hand to the handsomest or most distinguished
lady; for it is a great impoliteness.
Having arrived at the table, each guest respectfully salutes the lady
whom he conducts, and who in turn bows also. It is one of the first and
most difficult things properly to arrange the guests, and to place them
in such a manner that the conversation may always be general during the
entertainment; we should as much as possible avoid putting next one
another, two persons of the same profession; for it would necessarily
result in an _aside_ conversation, which would injure the general
conversation, and consequently the gaiety of the occasion. The two most
distinguished gentlemen are placed next the mistress of the house; the
two most distinguished ladies next the master of the house; the right
hand is especially the place of honor. If the number of gentlemen is
nearly equal to that of the ladies, we should take care to intermingle
them; we should separate husbands from their wives, and remove near
relations as far from one another as possible, because being always
together, they ought not to converse among themselves in a general
party.
The younger guests, or those of less distinction, are placed at the
lower end of the table.
In order to be able to watch the course of the dinner, and to see that
nothing is wanting to their guests, the master and mistress of the house
usually seat themselves in the centre of the table, opposite each other.
As soon as the guests are seated, the lady of the house serves in
plates, from a pile at her left hand, the soup which she sends round,
beginning with her neighbors at the right and left, and continuing in
the order of their distinction. These first plates usually pass twice,
for every one endeavors to make his neighbor accept whatever is sent
him.
The master of the house carves or causes to be carved by some expert
guests, the large pieces, in order afterwards to do the honors himself.
If you have no skill in carving meats, you should not attempt it; and
never discharge this duty except when your good offices are solicited by
him; neither can we refuse from his hand anything sent us.
A master of a house ought never to pride himself upon what appears on
his table, nor confuse himself with apologies for the bad cheer which
he offers you; it is much better for him to observe silence in this
respect, and leave it to his guests to pronounce eulogiums on the
dinner; neither is it in good _ton_ to urge guests to eat nor to load
their plate against their will.
I will now give a few words of advice to guests; puerile it may be, but
which it is well to listen to, and observe. It is ridiculous to make a
display of your napkin; to attach it with pins upon your bosom, or to
pass it through your buttonhole; to use a fork in eating soup; to ask
for _meat_ instead of _beef_; for _poultry_ instead of saying chicken,
or turkey; to turn up your cuffs while carving; to take bread, even when
it is within your reach, instead of calling upon the servant; to cut
with a knife your bread, which should be broken by your hand; and to
pour your coffee into the saucer to cool.
Guests of the house of a distinguished personage are accompanied each by
his own servant, who takes his place behind his chair. They should not
address him during the entertainment, still less reprimand him. Before
placing themselves at the table, they ought to direct him to serve the
other guests also, and to retire as soon as the table is cleared,
because the domestics of the house ought to eat by themselves.
During the first course, each one helps himself at his pleasure to
whatever he drinks; but, in the second course, when the master of the
house passes round choice wine, it would be uncivil to refuse it. We are
not obliged, however, to accept a second glass.
When at the end of the second course, the cloth is removed, the guests
may assist in turning off that part of it which is before them, and
contribute to the arrangement of the dessert plates which happen to be
near, but without attempting to alter the disposition of them. From the
time that the dessert appears on the table, the duties of the master of
the house diminish, as do also his rights.
If a gentleman is seated by the side of a lady or elderly person,
politeness requires him to save them all trouble of pouring out for
themselves to drink, of procuring anything to eat, and of obtaining
whatever they are in want of at the table. He ought to be eager to offer
them what he thinks to be most to their taste.
It would be impolite to monopolize a conversation which ought to be
general. If the company is large, we should converse with our neighbors,
raising the voice only enough to make ourselves understood.
Custom allows ladies at the end of an entertainment to dip their fingers
into a glass of water, and to wipe them with their napkin; it allows
them also to rinse the mouth, using their plate for this purpose; but,
in my opinion, custom sanctions it in vain.
It is for the mistress of the house to give the signal to leave the
table; all the guests then rise, and, offering their arms to the ladies,
wait upon them to the drawing-room, where coffee and _liqueurs_ are
prepared. We do not take coffee at the table, except at unceremonious
dinners. In leaving the table, the master of the house ought to go last.
Politeness requires us to remain at least an hour in the drawing-room
after dinner; and, if we can dispose of an entire evening, it would be
well to devote it to the person who has entertained us.
We should not leave the table before the end of the entertainment,
unless from urgent necessity. If it is a married lady, she requests some
one to accompany her; if a young lady, she goes with her mother.
The question whether it is proper, or not, to sing at table, depends now
upon the _ton_ of the master of the house. We do not sing at the houses
of people of fashion and the high classes of society; but we may do it
at the social tables of citizens. In this case, we may repeat what has
been said and proved a thousand times how ridiculous it is to be urged
when we know how to sing, or to insist upon hearing a person sing who
has an invincible timidity.
After dinner, we converse, have music, or more frequently, prepare the
tables for games. In the course of the soirée, the mistress of the house
sends round upon a waiter _eau sucrée_ or refreshing syrups. During the
week which follows the entertainment, each guest owes a visit to the
person who has invited them. We usually converse at this time, of the
dinner, of the pleasure we have enjoyed, and of the persons whom we met
there. This visit has received the cant name of the _visite de
digestion_.
CHAPTER II.
_Of Promenades, Parties, and Amusements._
The paragraphs contained in this chapter concern the most common
relations of society. Complaisance and attentions ought therefore to
embellish and adorn these relations with all the delicate shades of
politeness.
SECTION I.
_Of Promenades._
A young man who walks with an elderly person, undoubtedly knows that his
companion has not the same strength and agility as himself; he ought
therefore to regulate his pace by that of the old person. The same
precaution should be observed when we accompany a person of distinction
to whom we owe respect. Decorum requires that a gentleman should offer
his arm to a lady who walks with him; and politeness requires him to ask
permission to carry anything which she may have in her hand, as a bag, a
book, or a parasol (if the sun does not shine;) in case of a refusal, he
ought to insist upon it.
If there are more ladies than gentlemen, we should offer our arm to the
oldest, and to a married lady rather than to an unmarried one. If we are
accompanied by two ladies, we cannot dispense with offering our arm to
each of them.
Place your company upon that side which seems to them most convenient,
and beware of opposing their tastes or desires. When occasion presents
itself, offer seats to your companions to rest themselves, and do not
urge them to rise until they manifest a wish to continue their walk. If
they accept your invitation to sit down, and it happens that there are
not a sufficient number of seats, then the ladies should sit, and the
gentlemen remain standing.
In a large public garden, chairs are seldom wanting; if it is necessary
to go for some to the place where they are kept, this is the business of
the gentlemen, who ought to take care not to place them before persons
already seated, for this would be an incivility. When payment for the
seats is called for, one gentleman of the company pays for the whole. It
would be impolite to offer to reimburse him.
There is also a rule of politeness to be observed with regard to those
whom we meet in walking. We ought to offend neither their eyes nor their
ears. We must take care not to attract their attention by immoderate
laughter, nor allow ourselves liberties which we cannot take in a
private garden. To sing and skip about in walking, would expose us to
the hootings of the multitude, and to unpleasant things for which we
could only accuse our own folly.
If you are in a public promenade, converse upon general topics, which
can offend no one, in order that your remarks may not be wrongly
interpreted by persons who happen to hear them. Beware on the other
hand, of listening to the conversation of those who are not of your
party.
If you give your arm to a lady in the street, she ought to be next the
wall. And if by chance, you are obliged to cross over, you should then
change the arm. This deference is likewise due to all who are entitled
to our respect. Two gentlemen do not take one another's arms in the
street, unless they are young persons and intimate friends.
We never go in advance of the lady whom we accompany, and if she stops,
we do so likewise, and remain with her in looking at whatever attracts
her attention. If a mendicant comes up to ask alms, we immediately draw
out our purse to satisfy his wants, so that the lady with whom we are
walking may not be importuned by him.
If we walk in a private garden, and the company is numerous, we may
separate, and form distinct groups. If the master of the house or any
person of consideration, invite you to walk up and down the alleys, take
care to give them the right, it being the most honorable side. At the
end of each alley, and when you must retrace your steps, turn inside
towards the other person, and not outward, as you would thus present
your back to him. If you happen to be with two persons who are your
superiors, do not place yourself in the middle, for that is the place of
honor; the right, is the second, and the left the third place.
Be careful also of the choice of places if you take an airing in a
coach, and yield the first seats to ladies and distinguished persons.
The one of most consequence gets in first, and places himself at the
right of the back seat; the left of the same seat is occupied next;
then, the third person seats himself on the front seat, facing the one
in the first place; the fourth person takes the remaining seat, facing
the one in the second place. If there is no servant, it is proper for
the gentlemen to open the door, arrange the packets, &c.
In a cabriolet or chaise, the right side is for the one who drives when
there are only two persons. If there are three, the driver sits in the
middle, even although he may be very inferior to his companions. I may
add, that it is not customary for a lady to go alone in a hired
cabriolet, since she would then be in the company of the driver only.
SECTION II.
_Of Parties and Amusements._
We shall have but few things to say upon the manner of conducting
one's-self in a party, for we should only repeat the advice we have
already given as respects propriety in the carriage of the person, in
visits, and in conversation.
If a gentleman enters a drawing-room where there are more than ten
persons, he should salute all generally, by a very respectful
inclination of the head, and present his respects first to the lady of
the house, but converse at first only with her husband; gentlemen
usually stand in groups, while the ladies sitting, answer the salutation
by a similar one; we should remark that the ladies do not rise, except
in saluting one of their own sex.
However distinguished a person may be, we do not allow conversation to
be disturbed by their coming. They listen for a few moments while
observing what persons are present, then mingle in the conversation,
without pretending at all to monopolize it. When conversation is not
general, nor the subject sufficiently interesting to occupy the whole
company, they break up into different groups. Each one converses with
one or more of his neighbors on his right and left. We should, if we
wish to speak to any one, avoid leaning upon the person who happens to
be between. A gentleman ought not to lean upon the arm of a lady's
chair, but he may, while standing, support himself by the back of it, in
order to converse with the lady half turned towards him.
It would be extremely impolite to converse in a loud voice with any one
upon private subjects, to make use of allegories and particular
allusions which are understood only by the person with whom you are
conversing and yourself. It would be equally out of place to converse in
a foreign language, with any one who might be able to speak it.
It is not proper to withdraw in the midst of any conversation, but to
wait until the subject in which you are engaged shall be finished; you
then salute only the person with whom you have been talking, and depart
without taking leave of any one, not even the gentleman and lady of the
house.
The mind has need of recreations; it cannot be always occupied. Hence
the custom of passing a few moments in those family and social parties,
where we take part in the various amusements and games which have been
invented to relax and divert the mind.
It is useless to observe here that we do not mean to speak of those
scandalous establishments in which are frequently swallowed up the
resources of families, and where a person, led by an unhappy passion,
may consume in one evening, enough to furnish an annual support for
fifty orphans; we design to speak only of those innocent games, in which
we are ambitious only of the glory of a triumph. To propose to play a
deep game would be to expose ourselves to contempt. For, those who
composed the assembly, would imagine that he who makes this request, has
no other object in view but to enrich himself at the expense of others,
and that he is accustomed to frequent those abominable houses of which
we have just spoken.
We should have a bad opinion of a player who, when he gained, should
show excessive joy, and if he lost, should betray the least chagrin; for
he ought to remember that it is only for amusement that he plays.
Conduct yourself without letting escape the least word of
dissatisfaction, and be pleasant even if you are unfortunate.
When you leave off playing, converse with your adversary, and not seem
to avoid him, but especially never speak to him of his good luck in
playing, unless it be with a frank gaiety, for otherwise you would seem
to be inspired with anger.
Play with fairness, and do not endeavor to see the hand of your
adversary in order to profit by it; pay attention to your game, and not
hold conversation with others. This inattention would render you
necessarily insupportable to those who play with you.
If any play is contested, we should not discuss it with warmth, but
refer to disinterested persons, explaining to them with calmness and
politeness the point in dispute.
In playing, we must always preserve an even temper; neither should we
devote too much time to it, for then this amusement would become
irksome, and would soon be changed to a fatiguing occupation.
When the mistress of the house has prepared the tables for playing, she
takes as many cards as each game requires players, and presents them to
the persons present, beginning with the one whom she wishes especially
to honor. To accept a card, is considered an engagement to play. The
distribution of the players requires all the attention of the mistress
of the house, for there are some persons not to be desired for partners.
There are, besides, bad players, persons who being little accustomed to
playing, stop a long time to think, bite their lips, strike their feet
together under the table, drum upon the table with their fingers;
pretend that such a person being near brings them bad luck, and request
out of their turn to shuffle the cards, in order to change the luck, &c.
The mistress of the house experiences, besides the embarrassment of
arranging these unlucky players, sufficient trouble in keeping from the
same table, those who have any antipathy to one another.
When we commence playing, we salute, by an inclination of the head, the
persons with whom we play, as we deal to them the first card. Gentlemen
should collect the cards at the end of each hand, shuffle, and present
them to the lady who is to deal.
We may, without impropriety, ask of any one if he plays such a game,
even if he plays well; and we may ask those invited to play, whom they
desire as partners. The most honorable set, namely, that in which the
mistress of the house plays, can never be refused, unless we are
unacquainted with playing.
SECTION III.
_Little Sports and Games of Society._
Those sports, called innocent, generally please young persons of both
sexes, because they excite an interest, while they require an exercise
of the memory and of the mind. It is necessary, however, in this, as in
everything else, to manifest attention, delicacy, and propriety. We
ought not to endeavor to be noticed for our too great vivacity or
freedom. We should be satisfied with showing our talent at playing in
our turn, and taking part in the common gaiety, without pretension or
too great zeal. We should especially avoid throwing out any vindictive
remarks, bestowing misplaced compliments, or imposing forfeits which
would cause mortification.
A young gentleman ought never to seize a young lady by the body, catch
hold of her ribband or bouquet, nor pay exclusive attention to the same
person. He should be agreeable and pleasant towards all.
The selection of different games belongs to the ladies. The person who
receives the company, should be careful to vary them; and when she
perceives that any game loses its interest, she should propose another.
There are almost always persons in society who wish to take the lead,
and give the _ton_; it is a caprice or fault which should be avoided. We
may modestly propose any amusement, and ask the opinion of others in
regard to it; but never pretend to dictate, nor even urge having our own
proposal accepted. If it does not please generally, we should be silent,
and resign ourselves with a good grace to the decisions of the majority.
In these little sports, the penalties which are imposed, too often
consist in embracing the ladies of the company; but as they cannot
refuse, since you follow the rule of the game, take care to do it with
such propriety, that modesty may not be offended.
Never prescribe any forfeiture which can wound the feelings of any one
of the company.
CHAPTER III.
_Of Balls, Concerts, and Public Shows._
These amusements presuppose a fortune, and good _ton_; the practice of
society, therefore, and consequently a forgetfulness of the precepts of
politeness in respect to them, would be truly preposterous.
SECTION I.
_Of Balls._
I was going to say, let us begin with private balls; but I recollect
that this denomination is no longer fashionable. We do not say, _a ball
at Madam such a one's_, but an evening party (_soirée_). Nevertheless,
when we wish to give a dance, we give the invitations a week beforehand,
that the ladies may have time to prepare articles for their toilet.
If it is to be a simple evening party, in which we may wear a summer
walking dress, the mistress of the house gives verbal invitations and
does not omit to apprise her friends of this circumstance, or they
might appear in unsuitable dresses. If, on the contrary, the soirée is
to be in reality a ball, the invitations are written, or what is better,
printed, and expressed in the third person.
A room appropriated for dresses, and furnished with cloak pins to hang
up the shawls and other garments of the ladies, is almost indispensable.
Domestics should be there also to aid them in taking off and putting on
their outside garments.
We are not obliged to go exactly at the appointed hour; it is even
fashionable to go an hour later. Married ladies are accompanied by their
husbands, unmarried ones, by their mother or by a _chaperon_. These last
ladies place themselves behind the dancers; the master of the house goes
before one and another, procures seats for them, and then mingles again
among the gentlemen who are standing, and who form groups or walk about
the room.
The toilet of all the assembly should be made with great care. A
gentleman who should appear in a riding-coat and boots, would pass for a
person of bad _ton_.
When you are sure of a place in the dance, you go up to a lady, and ask
her if she will _do you the honor_ to dance with you. If she answers
that she is engaged, invite her for the next dance, and take care not to
address yourself afterwards to any ladies next to her, for these not
being able to refuse you, would feel hurt at being invited after
another. Never wait until the signal is given to take a partner, for
nothing is more impolite than to invite a lady hastily, and when the
dancers are already in their places; it can be allowed only when the set
is incomplete.
A lady cannot refuse the invitation of a gentleman to dance, unless she
has already accepted that of another, for she would be guilty of an
incivility which might occasion trouble; she would besides seem to show
contempt for him whom she refused, and would expose herself to receive
an ill compliment from him.
Married or young ladies cannot leave a ball-room or any other party
alone. The former should be accompanied by one or two other married
ladies, and the latter by their mother, or by a lady to represent her.
We should avoid talking too much; it would occasion remarks and have a
bad appearance to whisper continually in the ear of our partner.
The master of the house should see that all the ladies dance; he should
take notice of those who seem to serve as _drapery_ to the walls of the
ball-room, or _wall-flowers_, as the familiar expression is, and should
see that they are invited to dance. He must do this wholly unperceived,
in order not to wound the self-esteem of the unfortunate ladies.
Gentlemen whom the master of the house requests to dance with these
ladies, should be ready to accede to his wish, and even appear pleased
at dancing with a person thus recommended to their notice.
Ladies who dance much, ought to be very careful not to boast before
those who dance but little or not at all, of the great number of dances
for which they are engaged in advance. They should also, without being
perceived, recommend to these less fortunate ladies, gentlemen of their
acquaintance.
In giving the hand for ladies' chain or any figures, those dancing
should wear a smile, and accompany it with a polite inclination of the
head, in the manner of a salutation. At the end of the dance, the
gentleman re-conducts the lady to her place, bows and thanks her for the
honor which she has conferred. She also curtsies in silence, smiling
with a gracious air.
In these assemblies, we ought to conduct ourselves with reserve and
politeness towards all present, although they may be unknown to us.
Persons who have no ear for music, that is to say, a false one, ought to
refrain from dancing.
Never hazard taking part in a quadrille unless you know how to dance
tolerably. If you are a novice or but little skilled, you would bring
disorder into the midst of pleasure. Being once engaged to take part in
the dance, if the figures are not familiar, be careful not to advance
first. You can in this way govern your steps by those who go before you.
Beware also of taking your place in a set of dancers more skilful than
yourself.
When an unpractised dancer makes a mistake, we may apprise him of his
error; but it would be very impolite to have the air of giving him a
lesson.
Dance with grace and modesty; neither affect to make a parade of your
knowledge; refrain from great leaps and ridiculous jumps which would
attract the attention of all towards you.
In a private ball or party, it is proper to show still more reserve, and
not to manifest more preference for one lady than another; we should
dance with all indiscriminately, but we may, moreover, invite the same
lady more than once.
In public balls, a gentleman offers his partner refreshments, which she
very seldom accepts, unless she is much acquainted with him. But in
private parties, the persons who receive the company, send round cake
and other refreshments, of which each one helps himself as he pleases.
Near the end of the evening, in a well regulated ball, it is customary
to have a supper, when the gentlemen stand behind the ladies who are
seated.
In a soirée without great preparation, we may dispense with a supper,
but refreshments are necessary; and not to have them would be the
greatest impoliteness.
The waltz is a dance of quite too loose a character, and unmarried
ladies should refrain from it in public and private; very young married
ladies, however, may be allowed to waltz in private balls, if it is very
seldom, and with persons of their acquaintance. It is indispensable for
them to acquit themselves with dignity and decency.
I have spoken of _public balls_, in contradistinction to private ones,
and I might also have mentioned _balls by subscription_, for, in regard
to the public balls of Paris and other large cities, we have nothing to
advise our readers but to shun them. As to masked balls, it is an
amusement altogether to be condemned, except those of the Opera. Neither
should we appear there except in a domino.
We should retire _incognito_, not to disturb the master and mistress of
the house; we should make them during the week, a visit of thanks, at
which we may converse of the pleasure of the ball and of the good
selection of the company.
SECTION II.
_Of Concerts._
The proprieties in deportment which concerts require, are little
different from those which are recognized in every other assembly or in
public exhibitions; for concerts partake of the one and the other,
according as they are public or private. In private concerts, the ladies
occupy the front seats, and the gentlemen are generally in groups
behind, or at the side of them. One should observe the most profound
silence, and refrain from beating time, humming the airs, applauding, or
making ridiculous gestures of admiration. Very often a dancing soirée
succeeds a concert, and billets of invitation distributed two or three
days beforehand should give notice of it to the persons invited.
When a lady is going to perform, it is good _ton_ for a gentleman to
stand behind the chair of the performer, and turn over the leaves
attentively, if he knows how to read music.
We ought also after an invitation to a concert, to return a visit of
thanks.
SECTION III.
_Of Public Shows or Spectacles._
One would be deceived if he imagined that there exist no rules of
propriety to be observed in public places, where persons assemble
together, and at theatrical exhibitions. There are some general
attentions which we should manifest to those persons whom we meet there.
It would be impolite to jostle continually, and in an importunate
manner, those near whom we are placed, to step upon the dress of a lady,
or run against those who are moving at a moderate pace.
If you go with a party to a theatrical entertainment, one of the
gentlemen should carry the tickets to the door-keeper, in older to avoid
any embarrassment to ladies on entering; and when the box is open, they
should place them in the front row, according to their age, or the
consideration they deserve. Young persons should occupy the seats
behind, and avoid leaning over too much, to the incommoding of those who
are seated in front of them.
Gentlemen should address themselves to the attendants at the boxes, make
them a compensation, and place under their care their hats, the cloaks
and other articles of dress of the ladies; but we must not hang them
over the boxes, whether it is a pocket-handkerchief, a tippet, or a
shawl, &c.[18] Nor ought a person to turn his back to the stage; for in
that case, he exposes himself to the derision of the pit, and to hear
disagreeable remarks. Then the eyes of all would be fixed upon you; your
imprudence would excite a disturbance, which would be troublesome to the
audience.
When a spectator of kind feelings is affected at the sight of the
misfortunes which the heroes of the play suffer, or has his sympathy
touched by the virtues which are displayed, nothing can be more annoying
to him, than to have constantly at his side, a morose critic, who,
without mercy, finds fault with the finest parts of the performance, who
sees nothing to his taste, and changes into a place of fatigue and
ennui, resorts consecrated to amusement and pleasure. It is, moreover,
almost as ridiculous to place no bounds to our applause.
When ladies enter a box where a gentleman is seated in front of them,
propriety requires that he should offer his seat, notwithstanding they
are strangers to him, and he should insist upon their taking it, even
after they have once refused.
If the heat incommodes you, do not open the door of the box, without the
consent of those who occupy it.
Be very reserved at the theatre, in order not to trouble those who are
near you, and maintain a profound silence when the actors are on the
stage, so as not to interrupt the attention of persons who take an
interest in the spectacle.
It is improper to pass too positive and severe a judgment on the
performance, or the playing of the actors, whether to make a eulogium,
or to find fault with them. One may meet persons of a contrary opinion,
and engage himself in a controversy which it is prudent to avoid.
Between the acts, gentlemen should ask the ladies if it is agreeable to
them to walk in the entries, the saloon, or to take refreshments. They
should also ask them if they wish for a journal of the theatre or play
bill, or an opera glass; and if bouquets are sold at the door of the
theatre, it would be proper and gallant to present them with one.
As soon as you have arrived at the outer door of the theatre, if in a
carriage, you must take care to have your party all ready at the very
moment the carriage drives up. It is necessary to do the same thing, if
you send a porter to get a hired coach.
[18] In some of the theatres in Paris, this is however allowed.--_T._
CHAPTER IV.
_Of the Duties of Hospitality._
Those of my readers who from habit, or instinct, fear the least
appearance of constraint, and perhaps even in this work have found
lessons of politeness too strict, and have thought that civilization has
augmented them beyond measure, will without doubt apply the same remark
to the present chapter. But what in reality are these slight duties of
modern hospitality, in comparison to the rigorous ones of ancient times?
When a billet of announcement has informed you, as is customary, that a
preceding invitation on your part will bring guests to your house, you
must begin and carefully arrange the apartment you intend for them. They
should have a good bed, a bureau, a fire in the winter, and everything
which can contribute to their comfort; a wash basin, water, glass
tumblers, a bottle of cologne, a sugar bowl filled, or rather a glass of
water prepared, several napkins, and everything which will contribute to
neatness, or elegance, ought to be placed in the apartment.
These preliminaries being arranged, a little before the appointed hour,
we must go and wait upon our guests; a domestic should go with you to
bring their baggage to the house. You should embrace your friends and
congratulate them; express the pleasure you enjoy in receiving them,
inquire kindly about the incidents of their journey, and conduct them in
an earnest manner, and introduce them, by requesting them to make your
house their home; this finishes the second series of the duties of
hospitality.
The third class of obligations, is assiduity to your guests; because
otherwise, it would seem to them, that their presence was troublesome.
To you belongs the care of kindly offering to their view everything in
your house, in the city or in the country, which is interesting; of
making parties in honor of them, as dinner parties of their friends, or
such as it is presumed will please them; these are obligations of
hospitality which you cannot omit. When visitors show any intention of
leaving you, you ought affectionately to endeavor to retain them;
nevertheless, if their resolution seems immovable, you send to engage
their seats at the coach office; you offer them delicate refreshment,
and accompany them thither; then, taking leave of them, renew your
invitations for another visit, and your regret at not having been able
to succeed better in retaining them.
To do the honors of one's own house, it is necessary to have tact,
address, knowledge of the world, and a great evenness of temper, and
much affability. It is necessary to forget one's-self, in order to be
occupied with others, but without hurry, or affectation; to encourage
timid persons, and put them at their ease; to enter into conversation,
directing it with address rather than sustaining it ourselves.
The mistress of a house ought to be obliging, of an equal temper, and
attentive in accommodating herself to the particular tastes of every
one, especially to appear delighted that they are with her, and make
themselves perfectly at home.
Guests, on their part, should show themselves contented and grateful for
the reception that is given them. They should, on departing, give a
generous remuneration to the domestics, and immediately after arriving
at home, write to the persons who have entertained them a letter of
cordial thanks.
The duties of hospitality are of frequent recurrence, fatiguing and
troublesome, but they are an indispensable obligation. To omit them, is
to be willing to pass for a person of no education, and no delicacy, and
in short it is to place people in a most embarrassing and painful
situation.
PART IV.
OF PROPRIETY AS REGARDS OTHER CIRCUMSTANCES.
CHAPTER I.
_Of Marriage and Baptism._
These two subjects have peculiar right to the precepts of politeness;
for the first is the closest of the social relations, and both furnish
occasions for the most brilliant fêtes.
SECTION I.
_Of Marriage.[19]_
We usually make a profound secret of the preliminaries of marriage,
because, in case of its being broken off, we are afraid of malicious
interpretations; but, after the first words are exchanged, it is
necessary to make it known in confidence to a few intimate friends, and
those to whom we are under obligations. Afterwards, we give intelligence
of it by letter to our relations.
A young man who solicits a lady in marriage, should be extremely devoted
and respectful; he should appear a stranger to all the details of
business which the two families discuss; he converses with his intended
particularly of their future arrangements, her tastes, the selection of
a residence, furniture, bridal presents, &c. Avoiding all misplaced
familiarity, he calls her _Miss_ until returning from church, on the day
of marriage; he accompanies her in all assemblies, and shows himself a
devoted suitor.
When the banns of matrimony have been published, it is customary at
Paris for a bouquet-maker to come to adorn the bride, presenting her
with a bouquet. This attention requires a remuneration.
The marriage is declared in two ways. We invite three or four days
beforehand persons of our acquaintance to assist in the nuptial
benediction, and we specify precisely the time and place where the
ceremony will be performed. As to the legal act, which is performed by
civil authority, we invite only witnesses and near relations.
If a person is invited to assist at the repast or fête which follows the
marriage, we make express mention of it at the bottom of the letters of
invitation.[20]
We simply communicate the fact of the marriage to those who have been
invited neither to the nuptial ceremony, nor to the entertainment.
Propriety requires that the person invited to the marriage ceremony
should come, or send an excuse if it is impossible to be present. A
simple letter of announcement to uninvited persons, requires only a
visit or two; the first of which is made by card.
Presents are usually the preliminaries of a marriage: those which the
gentleman makes his intended wife, are called _wedding presents_; they
consist of different articles of the toilet, a set of diamonds, &c. Some
persons content themselves with sending a purse containing a sum of
money in gold, for the purchase of these things: the young lady then
spends it as she thinks proper. The married gentleman is moreover to
make a present to each of the brothers and sisters of his intended.
The young lady, on her part, gives some present to her bridemaid: she
often presents her with a dress or some ornament, and she receives in
her turn from the other, a girdle, gloves, and a bouquet of orange
flowers. Since we have spoken of marriage presents, we will add that at
Paris the married lady must receive a gift from her sisters and cousins,
and that in the provincial towns, on the contrary, she must offer them
some token.
We will now pass to the ceremony: after the celebration of the legal
act, which may be some days previous, the married couple, followed by
their parents, commonly go to the church in the carriages which
conducted them to the office where the legal act was performed; for at
Paris, whatever situation in life the parties may be in, they never go
on foot. The married lady goes in one carriage with her relations and
the bridemaid; the gentleman in another carriage with his father and
mother, or his nearest relatives.
The acquaintances of the two married persons, repair to the church at
the appointed hour; the friends of the gentleman place themselves on the
right, those of the lady on the left hand, on seats prepared beforehand.
The marriage train then advances in the following order; the lady gives
her hand to her father, or to one who represents him; then comes the
gentleman with his mother, or the lady who represents her, and
afterwards the members of the two families follow in couples.
When the couple and their relations approach the altar, each of the
persons present bows to them in silence; the relations place themselves
in the same order as the acquaintances, and before the latter, in the
front row, which should be reserved for them. The couple to be married
are placed in the middle. Although it is polite always to present the
right hand to the lady whom we conduct, or to give her the right when we
are next her, yet the bridegroom takes the right of the bride, because,
in this act, which is at once religious and civil, man ought to preserve
the prerogative which the law both human and divine have conferred upon
him; besides, as the bridegroom is to place the nuptial ring on the
finger of the bride, it is more convenient for him to be upon the right
hand than the left.
When the clergyman puts the questions to them, each should consult their
relations by a respectful sign of the head, before answering the
decisive _yes_.
The veil is held over the head of the bride by two children whose
parents we wish to compliment. The business of the bridemaid who has
presided at the toilet of the bride, is to designate their places at
the religious ceremony in church; and afterwards, at the ball, is to
supply the place of the bride, who can take no active part; it is
usually one of her sisters or a most intimate friend who is chosen for
this purpose.
The groomsman, for there should be one or even more, looks well to the
list of those invited to the ceremony, to see what persons are absent,
because it is the custom of married persons not to make the marriage
visit to any one who has been guilty of this impoliteness.
The married gentleman must give presents to the attendants at the
church, the poor, &c.
After the nuptial benediction, the married couple again salute the
assembly, and then receive the compliments of each one. There are some
families in a more humble situation, where the married lady is embraced
by all at the marriage ceremony; in those in a higher station in life,
she embraces only her father, her mother, and her new relations.
The new husband gives his hand to his wife when returning from the
church; nevertheless at dinner he should be placed between his mother
and his mother-in-law, while his wife is to be seated between her father
and father-in-law.
In case there is a supper, the married couple sit next each other.
The married lady opens the ball with the most distinguished person in
the assembly; she retires privately, accompanied by her mother, and one
or more near relations whom they wish to compliment.
The newly married couple make marriage visits in the course of a
fortnight, in a carriage, and in full dress. They should make these
visits alone. They leave their cards for those with whom they do not
wish to be intimate.
Such are the received usages in the capital. In the provinces, many of
the old and common customs are preserved, as the gift of a laced shirt
bosom to the husband by his wife; wedding favors or ribbands for the
wife, ribbands of two colors with which they decorate the young persons
in the marriage suite, &c.
[19] The greater part of the marriage ceremonies here described, are
according to the usages of Catholic countries, but some of them
are applicable to our own; and it has been thought that it would
be interesting to American readers to retain the whole as in the
original.--_T._
[20] These letters are usually duplicates, for the invitation should
appear to be given by the parents of both the future couple.
SECTION II.
_Of Baptism.[21]_
We must invite several months beforehand the godfather and godmother of
the child that is to be baptized. If the ties of blood have given you a
right to this onerous duty, you cannot dispense with it. If not, you
can seek a specious excuse.
When one has consented to hold the infant at the baptismal font, he
should perform this duty in a becoming manner, and according to his own
condition and that of the parents of the child.
A present should be given to the mother, and this present usually
consists of confectionary. We must also give one to the godmother, a
pair of white gloves and comfits; if she is a young person, she commonly
receives a bouquet of white flowers in addition. If the godfather wishes
to show her any attention, he can add to the presents an elegant and
valuable object, such as a fan; but in that case it is good _ton_ for
the godmother to send in return some rich and tasteful present. She also
has the honor of giving to the child a cap, and often a baptismal robe.
To her also belongs the duty of putting the first dress on the child.
The attendant and the nurse have also a present.
The officers of the church, and the poor, should each receive a gratuity
proportionate to their condition. We simply put a piece of money into
the hands of the humbler persons; but we present the clergyman with a
box of presents in which is enclosed a piece of gold or silver.
Persons of a very high class in order to free their friends from these
expenses, send their domestics to present their children at the
baptismal font. This is a most unbecoming custom; it seems to consider
this holy consecration as a slavish ceremony, and destroys at its source
the sentiment of respect and affection, that a godson or daughter should
inspire in those who have adopted them before God.
At whatever hour the ceremony is appointed, we go to the church in a
carriage at the expense of the godfather. He and the godmother pass in
first; then comes the infant borne by its nurse or a matron; then the
father, who accompanies the other invited persons.
It is the custom in many houses to give, after returning from the
baptism, an elegant entertainment, of which the godfather and godmother
receive all the honor. Above all, they should give their godchild new
year's gifts while it is a child, and manifest their affection during
the whole of its life.
[21] Most of the observances which follow, as well as those in the
section on marriage, have more particular reference to the forms
of the Catholic and Episcopal churches.--_T._
CHAPTER II.
_Of Duties toward the Unfortunate._
Propriety, the guide of all our relations, cannot remain a stranger to
the unfortunate; that which takes possession of all our sentiments,
cannot forget to pity. It is in this light that it is peculiarly
touching, that it is almost religious, since it even contributes to bind
closer this first, this powerful tie of humanity.
SECTION I.
_Of Duties toward the Sick, Infirm, and Unfortunate._
When any one of your acquaintance is ill, you should regularly send a
domestic, to inquire after their health, every day, or every other day,
according to the virulence and nature of the disease. If there is
immediate danger, we should send to inquire even twice a day. From time
to time, you should send to know whether the sick person can see any
one, because in that case you must go and testify in person, all your
interest. You should continue to obtain information about their health
until their recovery or death.
Our visits to the sick should be very short, silent, and reserved. We
should address to them words of interest in a low voice, and speak
softly to the member of the family who takes charge of them. We ask him
who is his physician, what is the treatment; we urge every motive of
consolation and hope; we ought hardly to reply to the questions the
person in attendance asks, with regard to our own health, or business,
and we retire reiterating the proofs of our interest. If the person is
convalescent or only indisposed, you address a thousand questions
concerning their complaints; you sympathize with them, praise their
patience, and describe to them the pleasant image of returning health.
You must be on your guard not to say that you find their features much
changed, that their recovery may be slow, &c.
To speak these truths is very mal-apropos, and with reason; you would
pass for having an unfeeling heart, or, rather, a limited understanding.
When sufferings and troubles assume a virulent aspect, and resist all
the efforts of medical skill, they are infirmities indeed, and a silence
the most absolute and rigorous with respect to them, should be
observed.
Not only ought you never to speak to an infirm person of his misfortune,
but you should also carefully avoid mentioning any person who is
afflicted in the same way, and of thus alluding indirectly to his own
case.
The only occasion when this is allowed, is where you can make it appear
to him that the comforts of which he is deprived are not so permanent
but that you have experienced similar inconveniences from the same
cause. Thus to a lame person, you might say that you yourself are
fatigued with walking, that your own legs are not firm, &c. If the
infirmity is not too visible, and the poor subject speaks to you of it,
assure him earnestly that you should not have observed it. If he
complains to you, offer him motives of consolation, and take care that
you change the subject of conversation before he does, for you might
make him think that you are importuning him about his malady. Finally,
do all in your power to comfort him. If he is afflicted with imperfect
sight, place objects near him, but without affectation, and without
having the air of making him think that he requires your assistance,
neither permit him to thank you. If he is troubled with deafness, you
must not speak unreasonably loud; bring back the attention of the
unfortunate person to the subject of your conversation by skilful and
delicate transitions, and not abruptly say to him, _We were speaking of
such a thing_. This is much trouble, perhaps you will say. Trouble to
console people! Why, you take more to please them!
Persons who are reduced in circumstances, keep up in their misfortune
(at least in society) their habits of opulence; and to manage with such
persons requires not a little skill.
If they invite you to their frugal repasts, if they offer you any
presents, let not the fear of occasioning them expense, induce you to
refuse with warmth, and with obstinacy; you would wound them deeply.
Accept them, and seek an opportunity of repaying with interest, these
proofs of their politeness. Do not speak to them first of their sad
situation; but if they introduce the subject themselves, receive their
confidence with a respectful and affectionate attention. Show how much
you are affected with that which grieves them, and without forgetting
discretion, endeavor, in appearance at least, to render them confidence
for confidence.
SECTION II.
_Of Funerals and Mourning._
When we lose any one of our family, we should give intelligence of it to
all persons who have had relations of business or friendship with the
deceased. This letter of _announcement_ usually contains an invitation
to assist at the service and burial.
On receiving this invitation, we should go to the house of the deceased,
and follow the body as far as the church. We are excused from
accompanying it to the burying-ground, unless it be a relation, a
friend, or a superior. If we go as far as the burying-ground, we must
give the first carriages to the relations or most intimate friends of
the deceased. We should walk with the head uncovered, silently, and with
a sad and thoughtful mien. Relations ought not, from considerations of
propriety, to give themselves up too much to their grief. You will owe a
visit to persons who have invited you, if you have not been able to
accept their invitation. If you have attended the ceremony, then they
are the ones that owe the visit.
At an interment or funeral service, the members of the family are
entitled to the first places; they are nearest to the coffin, whether in
the procession, or in the church. The nearest relations go in a full
mourning dress. It is not customary at Paris for women to follow the
procession; and, nowhere do they go quite to the grave, unless they are
of a low class. A widower or a widow, a father or mother, are not
present at the interment, or funeral service of those whom they have
lost. The first are presumed not to be able to support the afflicting
ceremony; the second ought not to show this mark of deference.
There are two kinds of mourning, the full and the half mourning. The
full mourning is worn for a father, mother, grandfather, grandmother,
husband, wife, brother and sister. It is divided into three periods.[22]
For the first six weeks, we wear only woollen garments; in the six weeks
following, we wear silk, and the three last months, we mingle white with
the black.
Half mourning is worn for uncles, aunts, cousins, and second cousins.
The first fortnight we wear black silk, and the last week, white mixed
with black.
Custom requires that a woman should wear mourning for her husband a year
and six weeks, while that of a widower is only six months. This
difference, which may appear singular, is founded upon reasons of
convenience and social relations.
In the three first months of mourning for her husband, a woman wears
only woollen garments; the six first weeks, her head dress and
neck-kerchief are black crape or gauze; in the six following weeks,
they are white crape or linen. The next six months, she dresses in black
silk; in winter, gros de Naples; in summer, taffetas. Head dress, white
crape. The three last months, she wears black and white, and the six
last weeks, white only.
The mourning on the death of a wife, is a black cloth coat without
buttons,[23] dark shoes, woollen hose, black buckles, and a sword-knot
of crape, if the person carries one. At the end of six weeks, we may
wear a black coat with buttons, black silk hose, silver buckles, and a
black ribband upon the sword. The half mourning of the three last months
is a black coat, a sword and silver buckles, white silk stockings, and a
sword-knot of black and white.
It is altogether contrary to propriety to select for yourself at the
shops the articles of mourning, to have them made in your presence, or
to make them yourself; and, for a fortnight at least, and sometimes even
for the six first weeks, ladies ought not to sew, even while receiving
their relations and intimate friends, so much are they supposed to be
depressed by their affliction.
During forty days we do not leave the house, except to go to church; it
would be very improper to visit, dine out, or go to any assembly during
the first mourning. When this time has expired, we make visits of
mourning, and go out a little more, but we cannot yet appear in public
promenades, at spectacles or balls; we cannot sing, even at home. It is
only at the time of half mourning that we resume by degrees our former
habits of life.
For ten days at least, after the death of a very near relation, it would
be very reprehensible for people whose profession recalls ideas of
pleasure, as musicians, or dancing masters, to return to their
employment.
In full mourning, we should wear neither curls nor perfumes. To be
present at a funeral, or even to look at one passing, are forbidden at
this time. Attending a funeral service, other than that of a relation,
is equally prohibited. Excepting during this period, it is impolite not
to attend when invited to the funeral service of your acquaintances. You
should appear there in mourning. At the funeral service, as well as at
the interment, the male relatives go first, and then those invited; the
female relatives go next, and are followed by other ladies.
If we marry a person who is in mourning, we put on black the day after
our marriage; the time preceding is reckoned as if the mourning had been
worn. On the contrary, if we ourselves are married again at a time when
the death of a relation by our former marriage requires this sombre
dress, we leave it off immediately, since our new union annuls the
former alliance.
Visits which are paid to persons in mourning, are called visits of
condolence. In making them, we observe silence, and never inquire about
their health; this would be out of place. A gentleman offers them his
hand, a lady embraces them, even though they are but slightly
acquainted. We refrain from conversing on too gay or personal subjects.
If we are at a distance, we testify by letter our sympathy in the
misfortune which afflicts them. Their grief cannot excuse them from
answering us, but it is not immediately necessary.
With this subject, we shall conclude our treatise of politeness; hoping
that, having arrived at this point, our readers may say, 'Without any
doubt the work is full and methodical;' we shall not dare to flatter
ourselves with more, but this is enough, for it is being sure that our
labor has been useful.
We trust then that we have rendered an essential service to youth, in
making them acquainted with these rules, which have become so necessary;
in truth, politeness, on which at the present day we pride ourselves, is
a virtue which we ought never to renounce, since it gives to the
intercourse of life, that sweetness, pleasure, elegance and charm which
can be truly felt only by those who possess it. As the intellectual
Madam Lambert has said, 'Politeness is the desire of pleasing those with
whom we are obliged to live, and in a manner causing all around us to be
satisfied with us; superiors, with our respect; equals, with our esteem;
and inferiors, with our kindness.'
[22] Several of the particulars which follow, are not observed in
this country.--_T._
[23] It is not the custom among us to dispense with buttons.--_T._
Transcriber's Notes
Inconsistent hyphenation retained as originally printed
(à-propos/àpropos, fire-place/fireplace, re-conduct/reconduct)
Inconsistent and archaic spelling retained as originally printed
(visitor/visiter, every thing/everything, ancle, accessary,
bridemaid, inquiet, pantomine, secrecy, synonyme)