Manners and Social Usages - Mrs John M. E. W. Sherwood (mobile ebook reader TXT) 📗
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anything but “Mr. Grant,” which had, in her case, a sweetness
above all etiquette.
Introductions in the homely German fatherland are universal,
everybody pronouncing to everybody else the name of the lady to
whom he is talking; and among our German fellow-citizens we often
see a gentleman convoying a lady through a crowded assemblage,
introducing her to everybody. It is a simple, cordial, and
pleasant thing enough, as with them the acquaintance stops there;
and a bow and smile hurt nobody.
No one of heart or mind need feel afraid to talk and be agreeable,
whether introduced or not, at a friend’s house; even if she meets
with the rebuff of a deaf-and-dumb neighbor, she need not feel
heart-broken: she is right, and her stiff acquaintance is wrong.
If a gentleman asks to be presented to a lady, she should signify
her assent in a pleasant way, and pay her hostess, through whom
the request comes, the compliment of at least seeming to be
gratified at the introduction. Our American ladies are sometimes a
little lacking in cordiality of manner, often receiving a new
acquaintance with that part of their conformation which is known
as the “cold shoulder.” A brusque discourtesy is bad, a very
effusive courtesy and a too low bow are worse, and an overwhelming
and patronizing manner is atrocious. The proper salutation lies
just between the two extremes: the_ juste milieu_ is the proper
thing always. In seeking introductions for ourselves, while we
need not be shy of making a first visit or asking for an
introduction, we must still beware of “push.” There are instincts
in the humblest understanding which will tell us where to draw the
line. If a person is socially more prominent than ourselves, or
more distinguished in any way, we should not be violently anxious
to take the first step; we should wait until some happy chance
brought us together, for we must be as firm in our self-respect as
our neighbor is secure in her exalted position. Wealth has
heretofore had very little power to give a person an exclusively
fashionable position. Character, breeding, culture, good
connections—all must help. An aristocrat who is such by virtue of
an old and honored name which has never been tarnished is a power
in the newest society as in the oldest; but it is a shadowy power,
felt rather than described. Education is always a power.
To be sure, there is a tyranny in large cities of what is known as
the “fashionable set,” formed of people willing to spend money;
who make a sort of alliance, offensive and defensive; who can give
balls and parties and keep certain people out; who have the place
which many covet; who are too much feared and dreaded. If those
who desire an introduction to this set strive for it too much,
they will be sure to be snubbed; for this circle lives by
snubbing. If such an aspirant will wait patiently, either the
whole autocratic set of ladies will disband—for such sets
disentangle easily—or else they in their turn will come knocking
at the door and ask to be received. L’art de tenir salon is not
acquired in an hour. It takes many years for a new and an
uninstructed set to surmount all the little awkwardnesses, the
dubious points of etiquette, that come up in every new shuffle of
the social cards; but a modest and serene courtesy, a civility
which is not servile, will be a good introduction into any
society.
And it is well to have that philosophical spirit which puts the
best possible interpretation upon the conduct of others. Be not in
haste to consider yourself neglected. Self-respect does not easily
receive an insult. A lady who is fully aware of her own
respectability, who has always lived in the best society, is never
afraid to bow or call first, or to introduce the people whom she
may desire should know each other. She perhaps presumes on her
position, but it is very rare that such a person offends; for tact
is almost always the concomitant of social success.
There has been a movement lately towards the stately bows and
courtesies of the past in our recent importation of Old-World
fashions. A lady silently courtesies when introduced, a gentleman
makes a deep bow without speaking. We have had the custom of
hand-shaking—and a very good custom it is—but perhaps the latest
fashion in ceremonious introduction forbids it. If a gentleman
carries his crush hat, and a lady her fan and a bouquet,
hand-shaking may not be perfectly convenient. However, if a lady
or gentleman extends a hand, it should be taken cordially. Always
respond to the greeting in the key-note of the giver.
CHAPTER V.
VISITING.
No term admits of a wider interpretation than this; no subject is
capable of a greater number of subdivisions. The matter of formal
visiting has led to the writing of innumerable books. The decay of
social visiting is a cause of regret to all the old-fashioned
people who remember how agreeable it was; but our cities have
grown too large for it, and in our villages the population changes
too quickly. The constant effort to make the two systems shake
hands, to add cordiality to formality, and to provide for all the
forced conditions of a rapidly growing and constantly changing
society, these are but a few of the difficulties attending this
subject.
The original plan of an acquaintance in a formal city circle was
to call once or twice a year on all one’s friends personally, with
the hope and the remote expectation of finding two or three at
home. When society was smaller in New York, this was possible, but
it soon grew to be impossible, as in all large cities. This
finally led to the establishment of a reception day which held
good all winter. That became impossible and tiresome, and was
narrowed down to four Tuesdays, perhaps, in one month; that
resolved itself into one or two five-o’clock teas; and then again,
if a lady got lame or lazy or luxurious, even the last easy method
of receiving her friends became too onerous, and cards were left
or sent in an envelope.
Now, according to the strict rules of etiquette, one card a year
left at the door, or one sent in an envelope, continues the
acquaintance. We can never know what sudden pressure of calamity,
what stringent need of economy, what exigencies of work, may
prompt a lady to give up her visiting for a season. Even when
there is no apparent cause, society must ask no questions, but
must acquiesce in the most good-natured view of the subject.
Still, there must be uniformity. We are not pleased to receive
Mrs. Brown’s card by post, and then to meet her making a personal
visit to our next neighbor. We all wish to receive our personal
visits, and if a lady cannot call on all her formal acquaintances
once, she had better call on none.
If she gives one reception a year and invites all her “list,” she
is then at liberty to refrain from either calling or sending a
card, unless she is asked to a wedding or dinner, a ladies’ lunch
or a christening, or receives some very particular invitation
which she must return by an early personal call—the very formal
and the punctilious say within a week, but that is often
impossible.
And if a lady have a day, the call should be made on that day; it
is rude to ignore the intimation. One should try to call on a
reception day. But here in a crowded city another complication
comes in. If a lady have four Thursdays in January and several
other ladies have Thursdays, it may be impossible to reach all
those ladies on their reception day. There is nothing for it,
then, but to good-naturedly apologize, and to regret that calling
hours are now reduced to between four and six in large cities.
Some people have too many acquaintances. If they hope to do
anything in the world but drive about and leave cards, they must
exonerate themselves from blame by giving a reception, having a
day or an evening for receiving, and then trust to the good-nature
of society, or its forgetfulness, which is about the same thing,
to excuse them.
Happy those ladies who can give up an evening a week to their
friends; that rubs out the score on the social slate, besides
giving a number of people a chance to spend a very agreeable hour
in that society which gathers around a hospitable lamp.
The danger of this kind of hospitality is that it is abused by
bores, who are too apt to congregate in numbers, and to wear out
the lady of the house by using her parlor as a spot where they are
safe from the rain and cold and free to bestow their tediousness
on anybody, herself included. Then a lady after committing herself
to a reception evening often wishes to go out herself. It requires
unselfishness to give up an evening to that large circle, some of
whom forget it, some go elsewhere, some come too often, and
sometimes, alas! no on e calls. These are the drawbacks of an
“evening at home.” However, it is a laudable custom; one could
wish it were more common.
No one can forget the eloquent thanks of such men as Horace
Walpole, and other persons of distinction, to the Misses Berry, in
London, who kept up their evening receptions for sixty years. But,
from the trials of those who have too much visiting, we turn to
the people who have all the means and appliances of visiting and
no one to visit.
The young married woman who comes to New York, or any other large
city, often passes years of loneliness before she has made her
acquaintances. She is properly introduced, we will say by her
mother-in-law or some other friend, and then, after a round of
visits in which she has but, perhaps, imperfectly apprehended the
positions and names of her new acquaintances, she has a long
illness, or she is called into mourning, or the cares of the
nursery surround her, and she is shut out from society until it
has forgotten her; and when she is ready to emerge, it is
difficult for her to find her place again in the visiting-book. If
she is energetic and clever, she surmounts this difficulty by
giving a series of receptions, or engaging in charities, or
working on some committee, making herself of use to society in
some way; and thus picks up her dropped stitches. But some young
women are without the courage and tact to do this thing; they
wait, expecting that society will find them out, and, taking them
up, will do all the work and leave them to accept or refuse
civilities as they please. Society never does this; it has too
much on its hands; a few conspicuously beautiful and gifted people
may occasionally receive such an ovation, but it is not for the
rank and file.
Every young woman should try to make at least one personal visit
to those who are older than herself, and she should show charity
towards those who do not return this visit immediately. Of course,
she has a right to be piqued if her visit be persistently ignored;
and she should not press herself upon a cold or indifferent
acquaintance, but she should be slow to wrath; and if she is once
invited to the older lady’s house, it is worth a dozen calls so
far as the intention of civility is concerned.
It is proper to call in person, or to leave a card, after an
acquaintance has lost a relative, after an
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