Transcriber’s Note

The cover image has been fabricated and is placed in the public domain.

[p i]
THE
GENTLEMAN AND LADY’S
BOOK OF POLITENESS
AND
PROPRIETY OF DEPORTMENT,
DEDICATED TO THE
YOUTH OF BOTH SEXES.

BY M^me. CELNART.

TRANSLATED FROM THE SIXTH PARIS EDITION,
ENLARGED AND IMPROVED.

BOSTON.
ALLEN AND TICKNOR,
AND
CARTER, HENDEE & CO
1833.

[p ii]
Entered according to Act of Congress, the year 1833, by Allen and Ticknor, in the Clerk’s office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts.

BOSTON:
Kane and Co......127 Washington Street.

[p iii]
PREFACE

.

The present work has had an extensive circulation in France, the country which we are accustomed to consider as the genial soil of politeness; and the publishers have thought it would be rendering a useful service on this side of the Atlantic to issue a translation of it.

Some foreign visitors in our country, whose own manners have not always given them a right to be censors of others, have very freely told us what we ought not to do; and it will be useful to know from respectable authority, what is done in polished society in Europe, and, of course, what we ought to do, in order to avoid all just censure. This object, we are [p iv] confident, will be more effectually accomplished by the study of the principles and rules contained in the present volume, than by any other of the kind.

By persons who are deemed competent judges in such a case, this little work has been pronounced to be one of the most useful and practical works extant upon the numerous and delicate topics which are discussed in it. We are aware, that a man can no more acquire the ease and elegance of a finished gentleman, by any manual of this kind, than in the fine arts he could become a skilful painter or sculptor by studying books alone, without practice. It is, however, equally true, that the principles of Politeness may be studied, as well as the principles of the arts. At the same time, intercourse with polite society, in other words, practice, as in the case of the arts, must do the rest.

The reader will find in this volume some [p v] rules founded on customs and usages peculiar to France and other countries, where the Roman Catholic religion is established. But it was thought better to retain them in the work, than to mutilate it, by making such material alterations as would have been occasioned by expunging every thing of that description. In our liberal and tolerant country, these peculiarities will give offence to none; while to many, their novelty, at least, will be interesting.

The Translator.

Boston, May 6, 1833.

[p vii]
CONTENTS.

PART I.

PART II.
OF PROPRIETY OF DEPORTMENT IN REGARD TO OUR SOCIAL RELATIONS.

PART III.
OF PROPRIETY IN RELATION TO PLEASURES.

PART IV.
OF PROPRIETY AS REGARDS OTHER CIRCUMSTANCES.

[p xiii]
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 [p xiv] 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, [p xv] 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 [p xvi] 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 [p xvii] 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.

[p1]
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 [p2] 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 [p3] 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]

[p4]
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 [p5] 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 [p6] for ladies to cover themselves with a veil half drawn; it is a mark of reverence as well as modesty.

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 [p7] 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 [p8] 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?

[p9]
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; [p10] 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 [p11] 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.

[p12]
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 [p13] 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 [p14] 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.

[p15]
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 [p16] 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 overshoes, 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 [p17] 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 [p18] 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.’

[p19]
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, [p20] (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.

[p21]
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 [p22] 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 [p23] 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 [p24] 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.

[p25]
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; [p26] 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.

[p27]
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.

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.

[p28]
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 [p29] 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 [p30] 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 [p31] 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.

[p32]
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 [p33] 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 [p34] 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 [p35] 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 [p36] 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 [p37] 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 [p38] 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 [p39] 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 [p40] 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 [p41] 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 [p42] 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 [p43] 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 [p44] 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 [p45] 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 [p46] 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 [p47] 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.

[p48]
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 [p49] 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.

[p50]
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 [p51] 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 [p52] 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 [p53] 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 [p54] 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 [p55] 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 [p56] 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 [p57] 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, [p58] 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.

[p59]
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 [p60] 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.

[p61]
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 [p62] 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.

[p63]
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 [p64] 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 [p65] 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 [p66] (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, [p67] 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 [p68] 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 [p69] not do it, and this circumstance will warn you to shorten your visit.

When you make a half ceremonious call, and the person you are visiting, insists upon your stopping, it is proper to do so, but after a few minutes you should rise to go: if you are urged still further, and are taken by the hands and made to sit down as it were by force, to leave immediately would be impolite, but nevertheless you must, after a short interval, get up a third time, and then certainly retire. If, during your call, a member of the family enters the room, you need not on this account take leave, but content yourself by rising, and saluting the person. If a lady, you must not seat yourself until she sits down; if a gentleman, you can yield to the invitation made you to take your seat, while the other remains standing. If you make a visit with others, there are some points to be observed in relation to your companions. In going up the staircase, it is rigorously the custom to give precedence to those to whom you owe respect, and to yield to such persons the most convenient part of the stairs, which is that next the wall.

Above all, do not forget this last caution if you accompany a lady; and a well-bred gentleman, at such a time, should offer his arm. When there are many persons, he should bestow this mark of respect on the oldest. If you meet any one on [p70] the staircase, place yourself on the side opposite to the one he occupies. It would be vexatious and out of place to make an everlasting ceremony as to who should be announced first; the preference must be given to ladies; next to them, to age and rank. The time of taking leave should be also determined by ladies, or by aged persons, and those who are of consequence. It would be impolite to wish to retire before they gave the signal. We should add, that it is unsuitable for more than three or four to visit together. Persons of high ton

are accompanied even to the ante-room by one or two servants, who receive them again when going out.

To carry children or dogs with one on a visit of ceremony, is altogether vulgar and provincial. Even in half-ceremonious visits, it is necessary to leave one’s dog in the ante-room, as well as the nurse who holds the infant, for this circumstance alone excuses such a suite. As to animals, it is a thousand times better not to have them at all.

We justly reproach inhabitants of the province for lavishing salutations in meeting people, or in taking leave of them. This custom, which may make us contract a reservedness or too much familiarity, is extremely ridiculous. Is it not difficult to keep one’s countenance, when we see a visiter salute every article of furniture, to turn and turn again [p71] twenty times as you conduct him, and pour forth at every pause a volley of salutations and adieus? Our readers will beware of this over politeness; they will salute the first time, at the moment they take leave, and again, when the person who conducts them back shall have stopped at the door. We have before said that when we do not find persons at home, or when we are afraid of disturbing them, we leave a card; but this is not what we call particularly visits by card (visites par cartes). In these last visits, it is not our object to see the persons, since we do not ask for them, and we confine ourselves to giving our card to the porter or domestic. This custom, which has been introduced necessarily among persons of very general acquaintance, and especially at times when every one ought to be visited, as on the new-year’s day,—this custom so far is not ridiculous, but it becomes so by the great extent which has been given to it for some time past. This extent consists in making a visit without leaving our apartment; that is to say, merely by sending our card by a domestic, or indeed by means of an agency established for this purpose. The practice of visits by cards, seems to persons of good society the most impertinent and vulgar thing which can be imagined. Do not then permit it, except when the question is about returning visits made in this way; and do not use [p72] such retaliations, except to prevent these ill-advised visiters from thinking that you put yourself out to oblige them.

In works devoted to the instruction of the laws of propriety, we think only of fortune and affluence; we entirely forget people of a more modest condition, and when we find ourselves in connexion with them, we cry out against their impoliteness. It is an injustice, and in my opinion, a false calculation. An injustice, because true politeness pertains less to rank, than to uprightness and goodness of heart; a false calculation, for to refuse to initiate people into what renders the social relations easy and agreeable, is to prepare for ourselves collision and vexation, and to retard as much as is in our power, the practice of the forms of civilization.

Despising then this foolish disdain, we shall applaud the great care of persons not in affluence, who, having neither porter nor domestic, place at their door a slate furnished with a pencil, that in their absence visiters may write their names; for these visiters are seldom such as carry cards. We shall applaud the benevolent care of persons whose staircase is not lighted, or whose apartment is in the upper stories, and who leave with the porter a candle which every one who arrives, takes, in order to ascend, and returns it again on descending. If any of [p73] our rich readers should be tempted to smile at the announcement of these precautions of the more humble citizens, we would remind them that they are entirely strangers to the spirit of politeness, of which these precautions are a striking example.

This digression naturally leads us to the second part of our task relative to visits, concerning the duties which politeness imposes as to receiving them, for it is not less important to receive people well, than to present ourselves well to them.

Before passing to this important subject, it would seem my duty to finish what remains for me to say concerning visits, by the mention of visits of audience, of congratulation, of condolence, and of repast; but except the first, to which I am going to devote a few words, details of all the others will be found in the chapters devoted to conversation, to formalities of repasts, of mourning, &c.

We should not merely call upon ministers, heads of the public administration, and very distinguished persons; we must beforehand request of them by writing a place of meeting and must specify the object of our visit. We must call upon them at the appointed hour; we must abstain from inquiring after their health, and observe strictly the obligations of decorum. These visits, which are the acme of ceremony, ought necessarily to be very short.

[p74]
We shall see, in the chapter on Epistolary Propriety, what titles are proper to be given to these important personages. It is well to be furnished with a letter of admission, that in case of necessity we may show it to the servant.

[p75]
CHAPTER III.
Of the Manner of Receiving Visitors.

To receive visitors with ease and elegance, and in such a manner that everything in you, and about you, shall partake of propriety and grace, to endeavor that people may always be satisfied when they leave you, and desirous to come again,—such are the obligations of the master, and especially of the mistress of a house.

Everything in the house, ought, as far as possible, to offer English comfort, and French grace. Perfect order, exquisite neatness and elegance which easily dispenses with being sumptuous, ought to mark the entrance of the house, the furniture and the dress of the lady.

In a house where affluence abounds, it is indispensable to have a drawing-room, for it is troublesome and in bad ton to receive visits in a lodging-room, at one’s own dwelling. This may indeed do for a mere call; but it becomes almost ridiculous when, after dinner, it is necessary to pass into this room to take coffee, if you are receiving a small company, &c. This custom is not any longer [p76] adopted, except in the provincial towns and among persons who do not pride themselves on their good ton.

To receive company in a dining-room, is not allowed except among those persons who cannot bear the expense of furnishing a parlor or drawing-room. Simplicity, admitted into an apartment of this kind, suited to the smallness of their means, we cannot but approve, while we regret nevertheless, the disagreeable things to which such a residence subjects them. But we have, in this respect, an express warning to make to people who give themselves up to it unnecessarily, for it is altogether opposed to the received usages of good society to put yourselves in a situation which you cannot adorn, where you cannot place arm-chairs, a chimney-piece, a glass, a clock, and all things useful to persons who come to see you; where you are exposed to receiving twenty visits during dinner; of seeing as many interruptions during the setting of your table, since it is impossible to spread the cloth while strangers remain; finally, of making them witnesses of your domestic cares while removing the remains of a repast, the table-cloth, dishes, &c.

Young mothers of families who wish to have with them their children, (troublesome guests, in a drawing-room, as every one knows,) think that they may [p77] remain in the dining-room, and have strangers conducted into an adjacent apartment. That this may not be inconvenient, it is necessary to observe three things; first, that strangers be admitted into this apartment before seeing the mistress of the house, because they would not fail to create difficulties, by saying that they did not wish to disturb her; second, that the apartment be constantly warmed in winter; third, that in summer it should be furnished precisely as an occupied chamber, for nothing is worse than to conduct people into a room which seems to be to let.

Unless from absolute inability, you ought to light your staircase. If the practices of good domestic economy regulated by the cares of civilization, were more generally extended, a staircase not lighted would not often be found.

After having thus cast a rapid glance into the interior of the house, let us see in what manner it is necessary to receive visitors.

When we see any one enter, whether announced or not, we rise immediately, advance toward them, request them to sit down, avoiding however the old form of, ‘Take the trouble to be seated.’ If it is a young man, we offer him an arm-chair, or a stuffed one; if an elderly man, we insist upon his accepting the arm-chair; if a lady, we beg her to be seated [p78] upon the ottoman. If the master of the house receives the visitors, he will take a chair and place himself at a little distance from them; if, on the contrary, it is the mistress of the house, and if she is intimate with the lady who visits her, she will place herself near her. If several ladies come at a time, we give this last place to the one most distinguished by rank. In winter, the most honorable places are those at the corner of the fire-place; in proportion as they place you in front of the fire, your seat is considered inferior in rank. Moreover, when it happens to be a respectable married lady, and one to whom we wish to do honor, we take her by the hand and conduct her to the corner of the fire-place. If this place is occupied by a young lady, she ought to rise and offer her seat to the other lady, taking for herself a chair in the middle of the circle.

A mistress of a house ought to watch anxiously that they experience no restraint before her; consequently, she will take care to present screens to the ladies seated in front of the fire; she will move under their feet tabourets, or what is better, pads, (coussins) but never foot-stoves. If she is alone with an intimate acquaintance, she will request her to take hers

, but she will never extend this politeness to a gentleman.

If a door or window happens to be open in the [p79] room in summer time, we should ask of visitors, if it incommodes them.

If a lady who receives a half ceremonious visit is sewing, she ought to leave off immediately, and not resume it except at the request of the visitor. If they are on quite intimate terms, she ought herself to request permission to continue. If a person visits in an entirely ceremonious way, it would be very impolite to work even an instant. Moreover, even with friends, we should hardly be occupied with our work, but should seem to forget it on their account.

In proportion as the visitor is a stranger, the master or mistress of the house rises, and any persons who may be already there are obliged to do the same. Some of them then withdraw; in this case, if the master and the mistress of the house have with them any persons of their family, after having conducted as far as the door those who are going, they request one of their relations to take their place. If the case be otherwise, it is necessary to choose between the persons who remain and those who retire. If the latter are superior in rank, age or consideration, we must give them the preference, and vice versa. But however respectable the person be who departs, we may dispense with conducting them farther than the door of the room.

The manner in which we should usually re-conduct [p80] visitors is regulated in an invariable manner. If it is a lady who is to be accompanied, the master of the house takes her hand, passes it under his arm, and thus leads her as far as the bottom of the staircase, unless the steps be so narrow that two cannot go abreast. It is no longer the custom to give the hand to ladies, but to offer them the arm. This new custom does not at all change the ancient rule of propriety which requires that in descending a staircase, we should give the side next the wall to the lady whom we accompany; we commonly present to her the right arm, provided however, that necessity does not oblige us, in order to avoid placing her next the balustrade, to offer the left. If she is to return in a carriage, we should politely hand her into it.

In the provincial towns, they conduct all or almost all visitors, as far as the street door, unless they are gentlemen and have visited a lady. She ought then to accompany them, as is always done in Paris, that is to say, as far as the door of the room, or the head of the stairs. Parisians add to this custom an agreeable civility; they hold the door open, and standing upon the threshold or edge of the staircase, follow with their eyes the visitor until he turns round to make the last salutation or adieu, or to request the host to return.

[p81]
We no longer practice that frank and open hospitality of the provinces, by virtue of which, in the middle of winter, we request people to refresh themselves with some solid eatables. Such a proposal would now excite a smile. We do not make any such offer to visitors, but under these circumstances. First, during very hot weather, we invite them to take a glass of syrup, or of iced water. Second, if any one is reading, we offer him eau sucrée, that is, the little household article to which we have given that name. Third, we offer orange flower water to a lady who happens to be suddenly indisposed. Excepting these cases, we make no offer of this kind. If any one wishes to refresh himself, he requests the mistress of the house to allow him to ring the bell. After assent is given, he asks of the domestic who comes, whatever he desires.

[p82]
CHAPTER IV.
Of the Carriage of the Body.

The carriage of the body seems so simple, so common, and so easy a thing, that undoubtedly on seeing this title, many readers will think I design to send them back to puerile and plain civility. But if they will take the pains to reflect upon the numberless violations of propriety in the carriage of the body, of which they are daily witnesses; if they will call to the mind the many strange motions, ridiculous gestures, pretending attitudes, affected looks, and clownish movements; if they will recollect that the carriage of the body ought to be in perfect harmony with the situation, age, mind and sex, and a distinguishing trait of the physiognomy; if they will consider the unfavorable prejudices to which a disdainful, immodest, or vulgar deportment give rise, they will understand my anxiety in this respect.

It is without doubt impossible to notice all faults in the carriage of the body. This volume would not be sufficient for it; we must be satisfied therefore with designating the principal ones.

[p83]
To look steadily at any one, especially if you are a lady and are speaking to a gentleman; to turn the head frequently on one side and the other during conversation; to balance yourself upon your chair; to bend forward; to strike your hands upon your knees; to hold one of your knees between your hands locked together; to cross your legs; to extend your feet on the andirons; to admire yourself with complacency in a glass; to adjust in an affected manner your cravat, hair, dress, handkerchief; to remain without gloves; to fold carefully your shawl, instead of throwing it with graceful negligence upon a table, &c.; to fret about a hat which you have just left off; to laugh immoderately; to place your hand upon the person with whom you are conversing; to take him by the buttons, the collar of his coat, the cuffs, the waist, &c.; to seize ladies by the waist, or to touch their person; to roll the eyes, or to raise them with affectation; to take snuff from the box of your neighbor, or to offer it to strangers, especially to ladies; to play continually with the seals of your watch, a chain, or a fan; to beat time with the feet and hands; to whirl round a chair on one leg; to shake with your feet the chair of your neighbor; to stroke your face; rub your hands continually; wink your eyes; shrug up your shoulders; stamp with your feet, &c.

;—all these bad habits, of which we [p84] ought never to speak to people, among those who are witnesses of them, and are in the highest degree displeasing.

The carriage of the body is as expressive as the tone of voice, and perhaps more so, because it is more constant; it betrays to the observer all the shades of character, and we ought to be very careful of thus making a general confession, by affected manners, a pretending deportment, sneering ways, rough movements, a hard countenance, impertinent signs and looks, simpering smiles, clownish gestures, a nonchalant and effeminate posture, or a carriage of the body distinguished by prudery and stiffness.

Young ladies, and very young men little habituated to the world, ought to be on their guard against excessive timidity, for it not only paralyzes their powers, renders them awkward, and gives them an almost silly air, but it may even cause them to be accused of pride, among people who do not know that embarrassment frequently takes the form of superciliousness. How often does it happen that timid persons do not salute you at all, answer in a low voice, or very ill, omit a thousand little duties of society, and fail in a numberless agreeable attentions, for want of courage? These attentions, and these duties, they discharge in petto, but who will thank them for it? A proper degree of confidence, [p85] but not degenerating into assurance, still less into boldness or familiarity, is then one of the most desirable qualities in the world. To obtain which, we most observe the ton, and the manners of polite and benevolent people, take them for our guides, and, under their direction, make continual efforts to conquer our timidity.

Propriety in the carriage of the body is especially indispensable to ladies. It is by this that, in a walk, a ball, or any assembly, people who cannot converse with them, judge of their merit and their good education. How many dancers move off, and how many persons sigh with pity, at the sight of a beautiful woman who has a mincing way, affects grace, inclines her head affectedly, and who seems to admire herself incessantly, and to invite others to admire her also. Who ever makes up his mind to enter into conversation with an immovable lady, and one who is formal and precise, lengthening out the body, pressing the lips, and carrying back the elbows as if they were fastened to her side?

The gait of a lady ought neither to be too quick nor too slow; the most easy and most convenient step is that which fatigues the least and pleases most. The body and the head should be erect without affectation and without haughtiness; the movements, [p86] especially those of the arms, easy and natural. The countenance should be pleasant and modest.

It is not in good ton for a lady to speak too quick or too loud. When seated, she ought neither to cross her legs, nor take a vulgar attitude. She should occupy her chair entirely, and appear neither too restless, nor too immovable. It is altogether out of place for her to throw her drapery around her in sitting down, or to spread out her dress for display, as upstarts do in order to avoid the least rumple.

But what is especially insupportable in this sex is, an inquiet, bold, and imperious air; for it is unnatural, and not allowable in any case. If a lady has cares, let her conceal them from the world, or not go into it. Whatever be her merit, let her not forget that she may be a man by the superiority of her mind and decision of character, but that externally she ought to be a woman! She ought to present herself as a being made to please, to love, and to seek a support; a being inferior to man, and near to angels. An affectionate, complying, and almost timid aspect, a tender solicitude for those who are about her, should be shown in her whole person. Her face should breathe hope, gentleness and satisfaction; dejection, anxiety, and ill-humor should be constantly banished.

[p87]
Before leaving a subject so fruitful, I shall point out to my readers two examples of a bad position. The one is a fashionable with his head stiff, a borrowed air, his leg strained out, trembling lest he should disarrange the symmetry of his cravat, and lest he should pucker his pantaloons, his sleeve or the collar of his coat.

The other is an awkward person, with his feet drawn together and placed upon the round of the chair, his hands spread out upon his knees, his shoulders sunk, and his mouth half open. Between these two caricatures there are many degrees which are ridiculous, but which we leave to the sagacity of our readers to appreciate. We come now to our instructions in respect to conversation. They are so important, that we think it our duty to divide them into two parts, namely; physical proprieties, and moral proprieties.

[p88]
CHAPTER V.
Of Physical Proprieties in Conversation.

This first division will comprehend the physical care of the organs we use in conversation, our movements, the manner of listening, pronunciation, and purity of speech in a grammatical view.

SECTION I.
Physical Observances in Conversation.

Conversation is the principal, not to say the only means of pleasing, and making our way in the world. How does it happen then, that so many persons converse, without being troubled at the ridicule thrown upon themselves, and the ennui they occasion their hearers; without going into the inquiry, whether they have not some physical qualities which present more or less obstacles to the art of conversing well, or without thinking of the means of correcting them!

We shall point out some faults and the means of remedying them. It is essential in speaking, to be [p89] well on our guard not to protrude the tongue too near the edge of the lips. This bad habit has many great inconveniences: it occasions a kind of disagreeable hissing, produced by the immediate contact of this organ as it passes the teeth; and exposes us to throw out saliva.^[13] When an unfortunate habit or too great a development of the tongue produces these accidents, we should take care to keep this unlucky organ out of the way on one side of the gums or the other. As to the fault which is opposite to this, that is, stammering, by reason of too small size of the tongue, we should practice when we are alone speaking distinctly. To declaim and to exercise ourselves upon the words which present the greatest difficulties, is a useful exercise.

There are some persons in whom the saliva is so abundant, that it makes their pronunciation thick; such persons should accustom themselves to swallow it before beginning to speak.

Politeness in accordance with health, requires that our teeth should be perfectly clean. A yellow and foul set of teeth, which emit an odor, will not suffer any one to be sensible to our grace or the eloquence of our language. Feelings of disgust are without appeal.

[p90]
Some persons who have fine teeth, have the lamentable fault of showing them in speaking; this ridiculous vanity excites laughter, and besides, injures the physiognomy: it is not necessary to conceal the teeth to the utmost, but always without affectation. To use a tooth-pick while speaking, to carry the fingers to the gums, to hold a flower between the teeth, are habits of bad ton.

To open the mouth widely when one speaks, especially when making an exclamation of wonder or surprise; to draw the mouth on one side to give ourselves the air of an original; to contract it, in order to make it small; to laugh violently in an unmeaning and boisterous manner; to impart to the lips, trembling and convulsive motions when any one relates or reads something sad or terrible; to force our breath into the face of the person we are conversing with—all these are shocking faults, and insupportable grimaces.

SECTION II.
Of Gestures.

To act a pantomine with every word, cannot be tolerated; extended or numerous gestures, which do not accord with the conversation; mysterious signs accompanying the announcement of the most simple [p91] thing; abrupt gestures, in friendly conversation; mincing gestures, in serious conversation; rapid movements of the person, sitting or standing, and who seems to be performing a sort of a dance—all these are equally great faults against propriety and good taste.

We should not absolutely condemn gestures, which, according to the Abbé Delille, give physiognomy to our conversation. Moderate action corresponding to our words, and by turns a little comic, lively, and graceful, are allowable, and even indispensable. The left hand must not move, but a significant and exact co-operation of the right hand, should never be wanting in conversation: but I must censure dialogists, who put their hand into their pockets or work-bags, who always rest them joined or crossed, without making any gesture. Such persons give themselves the air of automatons, while, on the other hand, excessive gesticulators, have the appearance of madmen.

Those persons who in conversing, violently seize hold of the arm of their chair; play with little objects which come under their hands; who amuse themselves by scratching or defacing furniture, turning their hat backwards and forwards, twisting and untwisting the strings of their bag, or the ends of their cravat, are, without doubt, ignorant how much [p92] opposed to politeness, are these degrees of familiarity, childishness and embarrassment. I will briefly add, that those who are witnesses of all these ridiculous actions, ought never to notice them, unless they wish to be still more ridiculous themselves.

SECTION III.
Of the Talent of Listening to Others.

To converse, is not to talk continually, as prattlers suppose; it is to listen and speak in our turn; we must not acquit ourselves the less well in the one than in the other. To do this, we should attend half of the time to the person who is addressing us, (on this account it is impolite to do any work while talking;) if they hesitate or are embarrassed, you should appear not to notice it, and in case you are a little acquainted, after a few moments, you should, in a very modest manner, supply the word which seems to have escaped them. If they are interrupted by any incident, when the cause of the interruption shall have ceased, you will not wait until they resume the conversation, but with a smile of benevolence, and an engaging gesture, request them to proceed; please to continue; you were just saying?—If we are obliged in this manner, to palliate any such interruption, much more, ought we never to allow ourselves to be [p93] the cause of it. This is so rigorous a rule, that if, in the warmth of conversation, two persons commence speaking at once, both ought to stop immediately, when they perceive it, and each, while excusing themselves, to decline proceeding. It is proper for the one worthy of the most respect to resume the conversation.

If a person shall relate anything to you, who, without having any pleasantry, makes attempts at it; and without being affecting, endeavors to move you, however wearied you may be, appear pleased and assume an air of interest. If the narrator wanders into long digressions, have patience to let him extricate himself alone from the labyrinth of his story. If the history is interminable, be resigned, and do not appear less attentive. This condescension is especially to be observed, if you are listening to an elderly or respectable person. If the merciless story-teller is your equal or friend, you may say to him, in order to induce him to finish his narration, and finally—

Novices in the customs of the world, think they can abruptly interrupt a conversation which is begun, by asking to have some incidents, which they have not understood, explained, or by making the person who is telling the story repeat the names; this should not be done until after some consideration, [p94] and in the most polite manner. If the narrator pronounces badly; if you see that other hearers are in the same situation as yourself; if you foresee that for want of having followed him in his narration, you will not be able to reply with politeness, you can in this case, interrupt; but in some such manner as this; I ask your pardon, Sir, I fear I have lost some part of your interesting conversation, will you be kind enough to repeat it, &c. It is necessary also, to choose a favorable moment, as for instance, when the narrator pauses, hesitates for a word, or stops to take his handkerchief.

When a person relates to you a plain falsehood, the art of listening becomes embarrassing, for if you seem to believe it, you would pass for a fool, and if you appear to doubt it, you will pass for an uncivil person. An air of coldness, a slight attention, an expression like the following, That is astonishing, will extricate you honorably from your embarrassment; but when an event is narrated which is only extraordinary, or not improbable, your manner should be otherwise. Your countenance should express astonishment, and you should reply by a phrase of this kind; If I did not know your strict regard for the truth, or if any person but you had told me this, I should have hardly believed it. Under no circumstances should you interrupt him.

[p95]
It happens sometimes that you foresee some incident in an interesting story; and the pleasure that you find in this; the desire of showing that you have guessed correctly, and the intention of proving how much you are interested, induce you to interrupt suddenly in this manner, I see it, it is so, exactly. An interruption of this kind, although well meant and natural, will offend old persons, who like to tell a story at full length, and will confound formal narrators, who will be in despair that a phrase is taken from them which they had intended for effect; these interruptions are only allowable among our intimate friends, or inferiors, for otherwise you will have an ill-humored answer to your I see it, &c. as with a triumphant air, egad, but you can’t see it, &c. which is always embarrassing.

The worst kind of interruption of all others, is that which hauteur dictates. A clever person seizing hold of a story which another is telling, and with the intention of making it more lively, becomes, notwithstanding his eloquence, a model of impertinence and vulgarity.

It is, doubtless, hard to see a fool spoil a good anecdote, of which he might have made something interesting; but if we should not be restrained by politeness from expressing our feelings, we ought to be by interest. Now hearers of delicacy will remain [p96] silent to the conclusion of the recital, and will address themselves with good feelings to the poor narrator who is injured in his rights.

Interruption is pardonable if it is made to prove or clear up a fact in favor of a person who is absent. When they accuse you, you can, according to strict rules, interrupt by an exclamation, but it is better to do it by a gesture.

There is often much art and grace in listening, while you gesticulate gently; for example, by counting upon the fingers; by making a gesture of surprise; by a motion of assent, or an exclamation. This is a tacit manner of saying, ah, I recollect, you are right, and charms the narrator without interrupting him.

In a lively, animated and friendly dialogue, we can interrupt each other by turns, in order to finish a sentence which is begun, or to improve an epithet; this contributes to vivacity in discourse, but it ought not, however, to be too often repeated.

There are many shoals to be avoided in listening, and which always betray inexperience in society. To say from time to time to the narrator, Yes, yes, by nodding the head, making motions with the hand, a custom of old persons, and which is a good representation of a pendulum; to keep the eyes fixed and the mouth gaping open; to have an air of an absent [p97] person or of one in a reverie; to point the finger at persons designated by the narrator; to gape without concealing by the hand or the handkerchief, which is by no means flattering to the speaker; to cast your eye frequently towards the clock—all these habits are offences against good ton.

SECTION IV.
Of Pronunciation.

Pronunciation is still more indispensable in conversation than elocution; for indeed before selecting our expressions, we must make them understood, and one can do this but imperfectly if he pronounces badly. From this fault arise forced repetitions, the loss of what is appropriate, fatigue, disgust, the impatience of the two persons speaking, and in fine, all the sad results of deafness. Should we not use every effort to rid ourselves of this?

The first, the greatest impediment to pronouncing well, is volubility. By speaking too fast, we speak confusedly, and utter inarticulate and unintelligible sounds, and this, without dispute, is of all the faults in pronunciation, the most insupportable. We know very well, that to speak too slowly, and as they say, to listen to our own words, is a caprice which seems to denote pride or nonchalance; and [p98] that in certain cases it is necessary to speak quickly; but we ought never to speak precipitately, even on subjects which require us to be brief. Besides the physical inconvenience, indistinctness has other moral inconveniences: it supposes heedlessness, loquacity, or foolishness.

Next comes hesitancy, which is little less troublesome, for it fills the conversation with ridiculous and painful efforts. This defect which is sometimes owing to the organization, happens still more frequently from neglecting to think before we speak, from timidity, from some lively emotion which obliges us to stammer, or from a formal anxiety to make use of select terms. This last motive is almost an excess. With the intention of pleasing persons, you weary them by repetitions, by far-fetched mincing words, and in order to appear clever, you render yourself excessively annoying.

The habits acquired in childhood and in small towns, and a provincial accent, are frequently obstacles to good pronunciation; let us instance some examples of this. It is not uncommon to hear, even among those who are considered as correct speakers, in general, such a misuse of words as the following: Me for I, Miss for Mrs.,

set for sit, sat out for set out, expect, (of a passed event;) lay for lie, shew for showed, would for should, hadn’t ought for ought not, &c. [p99] As to accent, each province has its peculiarities. To discover it, to shun it, and to modify it by an opposite effort, are the means of avoiding these shoals; but however ridiculous we may appear in running upon them continually, we are a hundred times less so than those people who, like true pedagogues, stop you in the midst of an affecting recital, to repeat with a sardonic smile, a vulgar phrase, a word badly pronounced, or a wrong accent which happens to escape you.

Not only among persons of good society, should we condemn pedantry in pronunciation, but we ought, moreover, with Rousseau, to blame over-nicety of pronunciation or purism. He could not tolerate (and many others like him,) those people so particular in sounding every letter of a word.^[14]

Besides a general accent, there is also a particular accent, which gives a shade to the words, when we express a sentiment. We feel all its delicacy and its charm, but we feel also that it ought to be in perfect harmony with the language; that it ought to be free from all affectation, and all exaggeration. To utter hard things in a tone of mildness; to [p100] display in a humble voice proud pretensions; to open a political discussion in a caressing tone; to recount an affair of pleasantry with a melancholy accent,—is ridiculous in the highest degree. It is no less so, to force the accent, to pervert it into irony; or to introduce into discourse, a sort of declamation or tone.

We cannot judge by the accent of a person who speaks too high or too low, but we decide, in the first case, that he is vulgar, and in the second, that he is disdainful.

SECTION V.
Of Correctness in Speaking.

‘Surtout qu’en vos discours la langue révérée.’

In addressing this advice to readers, we shall beware of considering them as strangers to the rules of grammar; it is so shameful at the present day to be ignorant of one’s own language, that it would not be less so, to suspect others of not knowing it; but although we may not be deprived of this indispensable knowledge, it is still necessary carefully to beware of contracting bad habits in language; of using bad phrases, and even of using terms of which we know not the import; a little study and attention will afford a certain remedy to the embarrassment which we might experience.

[p101]
Young people cannot too much guard against these faults, which show an education that has been little attended to. They will arrive at it by studying a good grammarian, and by paying attention to the sense of their words.

If, in the silence of the study, we have much trouble in rendering correctly a long sentence, how must it be in the world, when the earnestness of conversation prevents us from reflecting? To make long phrases, is to be willing to make mistakes in language; and if we take time to present these interminable sentences in a correct form, we only appear the more clumsy, or the more pretending, for conversation ought never to seem labored, and the expression and the thoughts ought to be of a simultaneous casting.

Avoid the pronouns who, which, particularly when they are interrogatives; for although the grammar does not absolutely condemn their frequency, yet as it is useless and disagreeable to the ear, we should endeavor to avoid it. Thus, instead of who is it who did such a thing?—what is this thing that is here? say, who did such a thing?—what is this thing?

Persons who are careful of their conversation, avoid, as faults of language, expressions which certainly do not deserve this title, but which injure the clearness, elegance, and harmony of conversation. [p102] Thus they will abstain from uniting those words which, being in conflict as to their meaning and pronunciation, make an ambiguity, except when written. They carefully beware of accumulating synonymes and epithets profusely, or at least, of forgetting with regard to these last, the laws of gradation; of multiplying adverbs, which burden and weaken discourse; they pay great attention to the requirements of euphony, and, in order to this, avoid bringing near to each other, words of similar sound, and of repeating similar words even of the same meaning, such as at present we offer a present, it does a good deal of good.

These scrupulous and privileged talkers are particularly careful of the connecting particles, for they know how much their omission injures euphony; how it causes persons who are little charitable, to believe that it is a covering, under which are adroitly concealed doubt or ignorance, and this opinion is not always a prejudice.

I had forgotten to say that our skilful talkers endeavor not to furnish, by fortuitous coincidences of words, opportunities for puns; that in the mode of their conversation, they avoid rhymes so unfortunate and even ridiculous in prose; that they dread repetitions of phrases, and axioms, as the repetitions of words; that by short and judicious pauses, they [p103] mark the punctuation in the spoken as in the written language; finally, that they endeavor to render their conversation clear, correct and elegant; but these talking-models would be in less danger of defeating their object, if they had less of the precise air of a pedagogue. So far from this, if a grammatical error escapes them, they quickly correct it, but with ease and gaiety. If they hear a gross grammatical error, they do not allow themselves even a smile, or a look which could indicate their feeling, or trouble the one guilty of the error.

[p104]
CHAPTER VI.
Of the Moral Observances in Conversation.

Goodness, moderation and decorum—these are the motto and the soul of moral propriety in conversation.

A solicitude to be always agreeable and obliging; of observing a proper medium in everything; of respecting the rights of others, even in the most trifling things; susceptibility for every thing which is connected with delicacy, piety, and modesty—all these qualities which belong to politeness, are included in these expressive words; goodness, moderation, decorum.

SECTION I.
Of Formal and Vulgar Usages.

In the first rank of customary formalities, we place those concerning information about the health. We shall, necessarily, have little to say on this head; [p105] there are, however, some little rules which are not to be neglected.

It is proper to vary the phraseology of these formal questions, as much as possible; and we must abstain from them entirely, towards a superior, or a person with whom we are but little acquainted, for such inquiries presuppose some degree of intimacy. In the last case, there is a method of manifesting our interest, without violating etiquette; it consists in making these inquiries of the domestics, or of other persons of the house, and of saying afterwards when introduced; ‘I am happy Sir, to hear that you are in good health.’

Custom forbids a lady to make these inquiries of a gentleman, unless he is ill or very aged. To put a corrective upon this mark of regard, a lady who addresses a gentleman, should be earnest in her inquiries of the health of his family, however little intimacy she may have with them. Many persons ask this question mechanically, without waiting for the answer, or else hasten to reply, before they have received it. This is in bad ton. Inquiries about the health, it is true, are frequently unimportant, but they should appear to be dictated by attention and kindness. We must not however be deceived, but be careful not to mention a slight indisposition to [p106] persons who are strangers to us, because their interest can be only formal.

After we are informed of the health of the person we are visiting, it is proper to inquire of them in relation to the health of their families; but it would be wearisome to them, to make a long enumeration of the members who compose the family. We can put a general question, designating the most important members. In case of the absence of near relations, we ask the person we are visiting, if they have heard from them lately, if the news is favorable. They, on their part, ask the same of us.

When you are not on visits of great ceremony, at the time of taking leave, you are commonly desired to give the compliments and salutations of the persons you are visiting to those with whom you live, then you should reply briefly, but give them assurances of your regard, and thank them.