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This eBook was produced by Holly Ingraham
Transcriber's Note: Note the inconsistency of "Brummell" in
one place of the original, and "Brummel" all other places.
Also "Shakspeare," "Don Quixotte," "Sir Piercy," and "Esop"
are as in the original. There was no table of contents. The
original uses both all caps and italics. I have indicated the
last with bracketing blanks, _like this._
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THE
LAWS OF ETIQUETTE;
or,
Short Rules and Reflections
for
CONDUCT IN SOCIETY.
BY A GENTLEMAN.
PHILADELPHIA:
1836.
PREFACE
The author of the present volume has endeavoured to embody,
in as short a space as possible, some of the results of his
own experience and observation in society, and submits the
work to the public, with the hope that the remarks which are
contained in it, may prove available for the benefit of
others. It is, of course, scarcely possible that anything
original should be found in a volume like this: almost all
that it contains must have fallen under the notice of every
man of penetration who has been in the habit of frequenting
good society. Many of the precepts have probably been
contained in works of a similar character which have appeared
in England and France since the days of Lord Chesterfield.
Nothing however has been copied from them in the compilation
of this work, the author having in fact scarcely any
acquaintance with books of this description, and many years
having elapsed since he has opened even the pages of the
noble oracle. He has drawn entirely from his own resources,
with the exception of some hints for arrangement, and a few
brief reflections, which have been derived from the French.
The present volume is almost apart from criticism. It has no
pretensions to be judged as a literary work--its sole merit
depending upon its correctness and fitness of application.
Upon these grounds he ventures to hope for it a favourable
reception.
INTRODUCTION
The great error into which nearly all foreigners and most
Americans fall, who write or speak of society in this
country, arises from confounding the political with the
social system. In most other countries, in England, France,
and all those nations whose government is monarchical or
aristocratic, these systems are indeed similar. Society is
there intimately connected with the government, and the
distinctions in one are the origin of gradations in the
other. The chief part of the society of the kingdom is
assembled in the capital, and the same persons who legislate
for the country legislate also for it. But in America the two
systems are totally unconnected, and altogether different in
character. In remodelling the form of the administration,
society remained unrepublican. There is perfect freedom of
political privilege, all are the same upon the hustings, or
at a political meeting; but this equality does not extend to
the drawing-room or the parlour. None are excluded from the
highest councils of the nation, but it does not follow that
all can enter into the highest ranks, of society. In point of
fact, we think that there is more exclusiveness in the
society of this country, than there is in that even of
England--far more than there is in France. And the
explanation may perhaps be found in the fact which we hate
mentioned above. There being there less danger of permanent
disarrangement or confusion of ranks by the occasional
admission of the low-born aspirant, there does not exist the
same necessity for a jealous guarding of the barriers as
there does here. The distinction of classes, also, after the
first or second, is actually more clearly defined, and more
rigidly observed in America, than in any country of Europe.
Persons unaccustomed to look searchingly at these matters,
may be surprised to hear it; but we know from observation,
that there are among the respectable, in any city of the
United States, at least ten distinct ranks. We cannot, of
course, here point them out, because we could not do it
without mentioning names.
Every man is naturally desirous of finding entrance into the
best society of his country, and it becomes therefore a
matter of importance to ascertain what qualifications are
demanded for admittance.
A writer who is popularly unpopular, has remarked, that the
test of standing in Boston, is literary eminence; in New
York, wealth; and in Philadelphia, purity of blood.
To this remark, we can only oppose our opinion, that none of
these are indispensable, and none of them sufficient. The
society of this country, unlike that of England, does not
court literary talent. We have cases in our recollection,
which prove the remark, in relation to the highest ranks,
even of Boston. Wealth has no pretensions to be the standard
anywhere. In New York, the Liverpool of America, although the
rich may make greater display and _bruit,_ yet all of the
merely rich, will find that there does exist a small and
unchanging circle, whether above or below them, 'it is not
ours to say,' yet completely apart from them, into which they
would rejoice to find entrance, and from which they would be
glad to receive emigrants.
Whatever may be the accomplishments necessary to render one
capable of reaching the highest platform of social eminence,
and it is not easy to define clearly what they are, there is
one thing, and one alone, which will enable any man to
_retain_ his station there; and that is, GOOD BREEDING.
Without it, we believe that literature, wealth, and even
blood, will be unsuccessful. By it, if it co-exist with a
certain capacity of affording pleasure by conversation, any
one, we imagine, could frequent the very best society in
every city of America, and _perhaps the very best alone._ To
obtain, then, the manners of a gentleman is a matter of no
small importance.
We do not pretend that a man will be metamorphosed into a
gentleman by reading this book, or any other book. Refined
manners are like refined style which Cicero compares to the
colour of the cheeks, which is not acquired by sudden or
violent exposure to heat, but by continual walking in the
sun. Good manners can certainly only be acquired by much
usage in good company. But there are a number of little
forms, imperiously enacted by custom, which may be taught in
this manner, and the conscious ignorance of which often
prevents persons from going into company at all.
These forms may be abundantly absurd, but still they _must_
be attended to; for one half the world does and always will
observe them, and the other half is at a great disadvantage
if it does not. Intercourse is constantly taking place, and
an awkward man of letters, in the society of a polished man
of the world, is like a strong man contending with a skilful
fencer. Mr. Addison says, that he once saw the ablest
mathematician in the kingdom utterly embarrassed, from not
knowing whether he ought to stand or sit when my lord duke
drank his health.
Some of the many errors which are liable to be committed
through ignorance of usage, are pleasantly pointed out in the
following story, which is related by a French writer.
The Abb, Cosson, professor in the _College Mazarin,_
thoroughly accomplished in the art of teaching, saturated
with Greek, Latin, and literature, considered himself a
perfect well of science: he had no conception that a man who
knew all Persius and Horace by heart could possibly commit an
error--above all, an error at table. But it was not long
before he discovered his mistake. One day, after dining with
the Abb, de Radonvillers at Versailles, in company with
several courtiers and marshals of France, he was boasting of
the rare acquaintance with etiquette and custom which he had
exhibited at dinner. The Abb, Delille, who heard this eulogy
upon his own conduct, interrupted his harangue, by offering
to wager that he had committed at least a hundred
improprieties at the table. "How is it possible!" exclaimed
Cosson. "I did exactly like the rest of the company."
"What absurdity!" said the other. "You did a thousand things
which no one else did. First, when you sat down at the table,
what did you do with your napkin?" "My napkin? Why just what
every body else did with theirs. I unfolded it entire]y, and
fastened it to my buttonhole." "Well, my dear friend," said
Delille, "you were the only one that did _that,_ at all
events. No one hangs up his napkin in that style; they are
contented with placing it on their knees. And what did you,
do when you took your soup?" "Like the others, I believe. I
took my spoon in one hand, and my fork in the other--" "Your
fork! Who ever eat soup with a fork?--But to proceed; after
your soup, what did you eat?" "A fresh egg." "And what did
you do with the shell?" "Handed it to the servant who stood
behind my chair." "With out breaking it?" "Without breaking
it, of course." "Well, my dear Abb,, nobody ever eats an egg
without breaking the shell. And after your egg--?" "I asked
the Abb, Radonvillers to send me a piece of the hen near
him." "Bless my soul! a piece of the _hen_? You never speak
of hens excepting in the barn-yard. You should have asked for
fowl or chicken. But you say nothing of your mode of
drinking." "Like all the rest, I asked for _claret_ and
_champagne._" "Let me inform you, then, that persons always
ask for _claret wine_ and _champagne wine._ But, tell me, how
did you eat your bread?" "Surely I did that properly. I cut
it with my knife, in the most regular manner possible."
"Bread should always be broken, not cut. But the coffee, how
did you manage it?" "It was rather too hot, and I poured a
little of it into my saucer." "Well, you committed here the
greatest fault of all. You should never pour your coffee
into the saucer, but always drink it from the cup." The poor
Abb, was confounded. He felt that though one might be master
of the seven sciences, yet that there was another species of
knowledge which, if less dignified, was equally important.
This occurred many years ago, but there is not one of the
observances neglected by the Abb, Cosson, which is not
enforced with equal rigidness in the present day.
CHAPTER I. GOOD BREEDING.
The formalities of refined society were at first established
for the purpose of facilitating the intercourse of persons of
the same standing, and increasing the happiness of all to
whom they apply. They are now kept up, both to assist the
convenience of intercourse and to prevent too great
familiarity. If they are carried too far, and escape from the
control of good sense, they become impediments to enjoyment.
Among the Chinese they serve only the purpose of annoying to
an incalculable degree. "The government," says De Marcy, in
writing of China, "constantly applies itself to preserve, not
only in the court and among the great, but among the people
themselves, a constant habit of civility and courtesy. The
Chinese have an infinity of books upon such subjects; one of
these treatises contains more than three thousand articles.--
Everything is pointed out with the most minute detail; the
manner of saluting, of visiting, of making presents, of
writing letters, of eating, etc.: and these customs have the
force of laws--no one can dispense with them. There is a
special tribunal at Peking, of which it is one of the chief
duties, to ensure the observance of these civil ordinances?"
One would think that one was here reading an account of the
capital of France. It depends, then, upon the spirit in which
these forms are observed, whether their result shall be
beneficial or not. The French and the Chinese are the most
formal of all the nations. Yet the one is the stiffest and
most distant; the other, the easiest and most social.
"We may define politeness," says La Bruy,re, "though we
cannot tell where to fix it in practice. It observes received
usages and customs, is bound to times and places, and is not
the same thing in the two sexes or in different conditions.
Wit alone cannot obtain it: it is acquired and brought to
perfection by emulation. Some dispositions alone are
susceptible of politeness, as others are only capable of
great talents or solid virtues. It is true politeness puts
merit forward, and renders it agreeable, and a man must have
eminent qualifications to support himself without it."
Perhaps even the greatest merit cannot successfully straggle
against unfortunate and disagreeable manners. Lord
Chesterfield says that the Duke of Marlborough owed his first
promotions to the suavity of his manners, and that without it
he could not have risen.
La Bruy,re has elsewhere given this happy definition of
politeness, the other passage being rather a description of
it. "Politeness seems to be a certain care, by the manner of
our words and actions, to make others pleased with us and
themselves."
We must here stop to point out an error which is often
committed both in practice and opinion, and which consists in
confounding together the gentleman and the man of fashion. No
two characters can be more distinct than these. Good sense
and self-respect are the foundations of the one--notoriety
and influence the objects of the other. Men of fashion are to
be seen everywhere: a pure and mere gentleman is the rarest
thing alive. Brummel was a man of fashion; but it would be a
perversion of terms to apply to him "a very expressive word
in our language,--a word, denoting an assemblage of many real
virtues and of many qualities approaching to virtues, and an
union of manners at once pleasing and commanding respect,--
the word gentleman."* The requisites to compose this last
character are natural ease of manner, and an acquaintance
with the "outward habit of encounter"--dignity and self-
possession--a respect for all the decencies of life, and
perfect freedom from all affectation. Dr. Johnson's bearing
during his interview with the king showed him to be a
thorough gentleman, and demonstrates how rare and elevated
that character is. When his majesty expressed in the language
of compliment his high opinion of Johnson's merits, the
latter bowed in silence. If Chesterfield could have retained
sufficient presence of mind to have done the same on such an
occasion, he would have applauded himself to the end of his
days. So delicate is the nature of those qualities that
constitute a gentleman, that there is but one exhibition of
this description of persons in all the literary and dramatic
fictions from Shakespeare downward. Scott has not attempted
it. Bulwer, in "Pelham," has shot wide of the mark. It was
reserved for the author of two very singular productions,
"Sydenham" and its continuation "Alice Paulet"--works of
extraordinary merits and extraordinary faults--to portray
this character completely, in the person of Mr. Paulet
* Charles Butler's Reminiscences
CHAPTER II. DRESS.
First impressions are apt to be permanent; it is therefore of
importance that they should be favourable. The dress of an
individual is that circumstance from which you first form
your opinion of him. It is even more prominent than manner,
It is indeed the only thing which is remarked in a casual
encounter, or during the first interview. It, therefore,
should be the first care.
What style is to our thoughts, dress is to our persons. It
may supply the place of more solid qualities, and without it
the most solid are of little avail. Numbers have owed their
elevation to their attention to the toilet. Place, fortune,
marriage have all been lost by neglecting it. A man need not
mingle long with the world to find occasion to exclaim with
Sedaine, "Ah! mon habit, que je vous remercie!" In spite of
the proverb, the dress often _does_ make the monk.
Your dress should always be consistent with your age and your
natural exterior. That which looks outr, on one man, will be
agreeable on another. As success in this respect depends
almost entirely upon particular circumstances and personal
peculiarities, it is impossible to give general directions of
much importance. We can only point out the field for study
and research; it belongs to each one's own genius and
industry to deduce the results. However ugly you may be, rest
assured that there is some style of habiliment which will
make you passable.
If, for example, you have a stain upon your cheek which
rivals in brilliancy the best Chateau-Margout; or, are
afflicted with a nose whose lustre dims the ruby, you may
employ such hues of dress, that the eye, instead of being
shocked by the strangeness of the defect, will be charmed by
the graceful harmony of the colours. Every one cannot indeed
be an Adonis, but it is his own fault if he is an Esop.
If you have bad, squinting eyes, which have lost their lashes
and are bordered with red, you should wear spectacles. If the
defect be great, your glasses should be coloured. In such
cases emulate the sky rather than the sea: green spectacles
are an abomination, fitted only for students in divinity,--
blue ones are respectable and even _distingue._
Almost every defect of face may be concealed by a judicious
use and arrangement of hair. Take care, however, that your
hair be not of one colour and your whiskers of another; and
let your wig be large enough to cover the _whole_ of your red
or white hair.
It is evident, therefore, that though a man may be ugly,
there is no necessity for his being shocking. Would that all
men were convinced of this! I verily believe that if Mr. --
in his walking-dress, and Mr. -- in his evening costume were
to meet alone, in some solitary place, where there was
nothing to divert their attention from one another, they
would expire of mutual hideousness.
If you have any defect, so striking and so ridiculous as to
procure you a _nickname_ then indeed there is but one
remedy,--renounce society.
In the morning, before eleven o'clock even if you go out, you
should not be dressed. You would be stamped a _parvenu_ if
you were seen in anything better than a reputable old frock
coat. If you remain at home, and are a bachelor, it is
permitted to receive visitors in a morning gown. In summer,
calico; in winter, figured cloth, faced with fur. At dinner,
a coat, of course, is indispensable.
The effect of a frock coat is to conceal the height. If,
therefore, you are beneath the ordinary statue, or much above
it, you should affect frock coats on all occasions that
etiquette permits.
Before going to a ball or party it is not sufficient that you
consult your mirror twenty times. You must be personally
inspected by your servant or a friend. Through defect of
this, I once saw a gentleman enter a ball-room, attired with
scrupulous elegance, but with one of his suspenders curling
in graceful festoons about his feet. His glass could not show
what was behind.
If you are about to present yourself in a company composed
only of men, you may wear boots. If there be but one lady
present, pumps and silk-stockings are indispensable.
There is a common proverb which says, that if a man be well
dressed as to head and feet, he may present himself
everywhere. The assertion is as false as Mr. Kemble's voice.
Happy indeed if it were necessary to perfect only the
extremities. The coat, the waistcoat, the gloves, and, above
all, the cravat, must be alike ignorant of blemish.
Upon the subject of the cravat--(for heaven's sake and
Brummel's, never appear in a stock after twelve o'clock)--We
cannot at present say anything. If we were to say anything,
we could not be content without saying all, and to say all
would require a folio. A book has been published upon the
subject, entitled "The Cravat considered in its moral,
literary, political, military, and religious attributes."
This and a clever, though less profound, treatise on "The art
of tying the Cravat," are as indispensable to a gentleman as
an ice at twelve o'clock.
When we speak of excellence in dress we do not mean richness
of clothing, nor manifested elaboration. Faultless propriety,
perfect harmony, and a refined simplicity,--these are the
charms which fascinate here.
It is as great a sin to be finical in dress as to be
negligent.
Upon this subject the ladies are the only infallible oracles.
Apart from the perfection to which they must of necessity
arrive, from devoting their entire existence to such
considerations, they seem to be endued with an inexpressible
tact, a sort of sixth sense, which reveals intuitively the
proper distinctions. That your dress is approved by a man is
nothing;--you cannot enjoy the high satisfaction of being
perfectly comme il faut, until your performance has received
the seal of a woman's approbation.
If the benefits to be derived from cultivating your exterior
do not appear sufficiently powerful to induce attention, the
inconveniences arising from too great disregard may perhaps
prevail. Sir Matthew Hale, in the earlier part of his life,
dressed so badly that he was once seized by the press-gang.
Not long since, as I entered the hall of a public hotel, I
saw a person so villainously habited, that supposing him to
be one of the servants, I desired him to take my luggage
upstairs, and was on the point of offering him a shilling,
when I discovered that I was addressing the Honorable Mr. * *
*, one of the most eminent American statesmen.
CHAPTER III. SALUTATIONS.
The salutation, says a French writer, is the touchstone of
good breeding. According to circumstances, it should be
respectful, cordial, civil, affectionate or familiar:--an
inclination of the head, a gesture with the hand, the
touching or doffing of the hat.
If you remove your hat you need not at the same time bend the
dorsal vertebr' of your body, unless you wish to be very
reverential, as in saluting a bishop.
It is a mark of high breeding not to speak to a lady in the
street, until you perceive that she has noticed you by an
inclination of the head.
Some ladies _courtesy_ in the street, a movement not
gracefully consistent with locomotion. They should always
_bow._
If an individual of the lowest rank, or without any rank at
all, takes off his hat to you, you should do the same in
return. A bow, says La Fontaine, is a note drawn at sight. If
you acknowledge it, you must pay the full amount. The two
best-bred men in England, Charles the Second and George the
Fourth, never failed to take off their hats to the meanest of
their subjects.
Avoid condescending bows to your friends and equals. If you
meet a rich parvenu, whose consequence you wish to reprove,
you may salute him in a very patronizing manner: or else, in
acknowledging his bow, look somewhat surprised and say,
"Mister--eh--eh?"
If you have remarkably fine teeth, you may smile
affectionately upon the bowee, without speaking.
In passing ladies of rank, whom you meet in society, bow, but
do not speak.
If you have anything to say to any one in the street,
especially a lady, however intimate you may be, do not stop
the person, but turn round and walk in company; you can take
leave at the end of the street.
If there is any one of your acquaintance, with whom you have
a difference, do not avoid looking at him, unless from the
nature of things the quarrel is necessarily for life. It is
almost always better to bow with cold civility, though
without speaking.
As a general rule never _cut_ any one in the street. Even
political and steamboat acquaintances should be noticed by
the slightest movement in the world. If they presume to
converse with you, or stop you to introduce their companion,
it is then time to use your eye-glass, and say, "I never knew
you."
If you address a lady in the open air, you remain uncovered
until she has desired you _twice_ to put on your hat. In
general, if you are in any place where _etiquette_ requires
you to remain uncovered or standing, and a lady, or one much
your superior, requests you to be covered or to sit, you may
how off the command. If it is repeated, you should comply.
You thereby pay the person a marked, but delicate,
compliment, by allowing their will to be superior to the
general obligations of etiquette.
When two Americans, who "have not been introduced," meet in
some public place, as in a theatre, a stagecoach, or a
steamboat, they will sit for an hour staring in one another's
faces, but without a word of conversation. This form of
unpoliteness has been adopted from the English, and it is as
little worthy of imitation as the form of their government.
Good sense and convenience are the foundations of good
breeding; and it is assuredly vastly more reasonable and more
agreeable to enjoy a passing gratification, when no sequent
evil is to be apprehended, than to be rendered uncomfortable
by an ill-founded pride. It is therefore better to carry on
an easy and civil conversation. A snuff-box, or some polite
accommodation rendered, may serve for an opening. Talk only
about generalities,--the play, the roads, the weather. Avoid
speaking of persons or politics, for, if the individual is of
the opposite party to yourself, you will be engaged in a
controversy: if he holds the same opinions, you will be
overwhelmed with a flood of vulgar intelligence, which may
soil your mind. Be reservedly civil while the colloquy lasts,
and let the acquaintance cease with the occasion.