The American Gentleman's Guide to Politeness and Fashion
by Margaret C. Conkling · English · Gutenberg #39005 · 728,630 chars · public domain (US)
The Project Gutenberg eBook of The American Gentleman's Guide to Politeness and Fashion
This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms
of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online
at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States,
you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located
before using this eBook.
Title: The American Gentleman's Guide to Politeness and Fashion
Author: Margaret C. Conkling
Release date: February 28, 2012 [eBook #39005]
Language: English
Other information and formats: www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/39005
Credits: Produced by Julia Miller, Linda Hamilton, and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
file was produced from images generously made available
by The Internet Archive/Canadian Libraries)
*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE AMERICAN GENTLEMAN'S GUIDE TO POLITENESS AND FASHION ***
Produced by Julia Miller, Linda Hamilton, and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
file was produced from images generously made available
by The Internet Archive/Canadian Libraries)
THE
=AMERICAN= GENTLEMAN'S
GUIDE TO POLITENESS
AND
FASHION;
OR,
FAMILIAR LETTERS TO HIS NEPHEWS.
BY HENRY LUNETTES.
The good old name of GENTLEMAN.
TENNYSON.
People sometimes complain of writers who talk of "I, I." * * * * When
I speak to you of myself, I am speaking to you of yourself, also. Is it
possible that you do not feel that it is so? VICTOR HUGO.
NEW EDITION, CAREFULLY REVISED BY THE AUTHOR.
PHILADELPHIA:
J. B. LIPPINCOTT & CO.
1864.
Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1863, by
J. B. LIPPINCOTT & CO.,
in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States
for the Eastern District of Pennsylvania.
TO
HIS YOUNG COUNTRYMEN,
THIS UNPRETENDING VOLUME, IS, WITH AFFECTIONATE PRIDE,
INSCRIBED BY
THE AUTHOR.
INTRODUCTION.
"I lang ha'e thought, my youthful friends,
A something to have sent you,
Tho' it may serve no other end
Than just a kind memento:
But how the subject-theme may gang
Let time and chance determine;
Perhaps it may turn out a sang,
Perhaps turn out a sermon."
TABLE OF CONTENTS
LETTER I.
DRESS.
PROPRIETY of conforming to Fashion, with a due Regard for
individual Peculiarities of Appearance--Eccentricity of Taste
in Dress--Obedience to the Laws of Convention--The vagaries of
Genius, in this respect--Absurdity and Affectation originated
by the Example of Byron--All indifference and neglect to be
avoided, with regard to Dress--Anecdote of Dr. Johnson and the
Siddons--Porson, the Greek Scholar--Horace Greeley--Aphorism--
Habits of a distinguished Parisian _savant_--Example and opinion
of Washington with reference to Dress--Partiality of Americans
for Black, as the color of dress-clothes--Practice of Men in
other Countries, in the selection of Colors--Morning Costume of
an English Gentleman--Every English Gentleman usefully employed
during a Portion of each Day--Dr. Johnson's Test of good Taste
in Dress--The golden mean in Matters of Dress--Ceremonious
Costume of a Gentleman--Mode of wearing the Hair and Beard--
Necessity for artistic Taste in one's Barber--All extremes of
Fashion in bad Taste--Various Absurdities in this respect,
inconsistent with the "keeping" of modern Costume--Collars,
their size, shape, &c.--Sleeve-buttons--Bad taste of wearing
flash Stones--Use of Diamonds In Dress--Simplicity in the
Appendages of Dress, the characteristic of true refinement--
Signet-rings--Distinctive Points of difference between the
exterior of a Gentleman and of a Loafer--All staring
patterns in Gentlemen's clothes exceptionable--A white suit
throughout, for warm Weather--Thin Cravats--Body Linen--
Kotzebue's test of high-breeding--Strength and Comfort
the essential Characteristics of working Garments--Fitness
and propriety even in matters of Dress, indicative of a
well-regulated Mind--Every American should aim to be a true
Gentleman--Importance of Trifles, when viewed in the
aggregate--Influence of Dress, etc., upon Character and
Manner--Wearing Gloves in Dancing--White Gloves alone
unexceptionable for ceremonious Evening Occasions--Gloves
suitable for the Street and Morning Visits--Bright-colored
Gloves in bad _ton_--Illustrative Anecdote--Over-Garments--
Variety sanctioned by Fashion--Becomingness of different
Styles--Inconvenience and ill-appearance of Shawls--When
Suitable--South American Poncho--Anecdote--New reading of
Lord Nelson's celebrated Naval Orders--Difference between
Talking and Writing, the Author's Apology for numerous
Defects--The Mill-boy of the Slashes--The Author unacquainted
with the Elegancies of modern Fashionable Nomenclature--Terms
of agreement between the Author and his Correspondents, 25
LETTER II.
DRESS--(_Continued._)
STORIES AND ANECDOTES ILLUSTRATIVE OF DRESS.
THE HERO OF THE BALL-ROOM.--The Author's Liking for Mass
Meetings--A Fete--Louis Philippe and the Militia Officer--A
real Soldier conquered by the Fair!--The "Observed of all
Observers"--A Morning Visit--Dissection of the "Observed of
all Observers"--The Hero of the Ball-Room is consigned to the
"Tomb of the Capulets" in a bright, pea-green, thin Muslin
Shooting-Jacket! 43
Anecdote of Bulwer, the Novelist, 48
The Green Mountain Boy and his New Cloak, 49
Count Orloff at the "Peace Convention," 50
THE FASHIONABLE HAT.--A Young Clergyman resolves to Visit
"the City"--His Plans for Economy--A new Black Coat--A Secret
Design--Fashionable Ridicule--The Young Clergyman makes the
mortifying Discovery that he is wearing a "Shocking Bad
Hat"--Reluctantly determines to buy a New One--A Traveller in
an Old "Kossuth"--Test of what is Admissible in the Dress of
the Clergy--Reflections of a "Sadder and a Wiser" Man--The
Uncle and his Little Nephew--"Bradbrook's" and the "Pretty
Coat"--Another Secret "Design--The Tyrant of Social Life, 50
The Chief Justice--and the Travelling Gloves of an Exquisite, 54
GOV. MARCY AND THE PARISIANS.--The American Secretary of
Legation at St. Cloud, at a Court Dinner--Address of the
Turkish Ambassador--The Distinctive Mark of a Gentleman, 56
THE RED CORNELIAN PATE.--Sketch of an Elegant leaning upon a
Bass-viol--Poetry of the Female Voice--An Alpine Party--A
Lady's Avowal--Coxcombs--A Mysterious Stranger--My Lundy-Lane
Sword--A Figure of Speech appropriate to a Sportsman's
Daughter--The "Weed" and the Shawl--An Apple--The "Tug of
War"--The Pitiable Finger! and the Cranberry Pate--Design of
the "Mysterious Stranger"--Jack the Giant-Killer and his
Victim--A Revelation--The Dove and the Vulture, 58
Postscript to Letter II.--Letter to the Author from a
Distinguished Man of Fashion--Directions for the Details of
Gentlemen's Dress, on various Occasions--Wedding Costume--
Morning and Evening--Evening Dress--Dress for Morning
Visits--Costume for Bachelors' Dinner-Parties--General
Remarks upon Colors, etc.--Effect of Black Dress--Blue--
Brown--Anecdote of Beau Brummel--Opinion of a French
Critic--Importance of the "Cut" of Garments--Ease the First
Essential--An Artistic Air--Wadding, or Stuffing, to be
used in moderation--Sensible Observations of a Man of
Discriminating Taste, 63
LETTER III
MANNER.
APHORISM of a Celebrated Observer of Human Nature--Manner
indicative of Character--Benefits of Care and Attention in
Youth--The Fashionable Manner of the Day--Danger of
Affectation in Manner--Americans too often Caricature their
European Models--Good Sense and Manly Independence the best
Guides in the Formation of Manner--True Politeness--Elegant
definition of Politeness by a celebrated Author--Good
Breeding inseparable from the Character of a Gentleman--Sir
Philip Sidney, a Christian Gentleman--Manner the proper
expression of Mental Qualities--The Laws of Convention--Their
proper Use and Applicability--Conduct towards Superiors in
Age and Station one Test of Good Breeding--Example of
Washington in this respect--Polished Manners of the Men of
Revolutionary Days--Bad Taste of Slang Language and
Disrespectful Familiarity in speaking of Superiors or
Parents--Reverence rendered to Age by the Ancients--Rudeness
of "Young America" in this respect--The Law of Kindness a
sure Correction--Possibility of Benefit to be derived from
the consideration of those who have seen the World--
Disadvantages of early Neglect of Manner--Improvement
always possible, at any age--Benefit of the early Acquisition
of Habits of Self-Control and Self-Possession--Advantage of
proper Examples in this respect, 72
THE HANDSOME ENGINEER.--A Railroad Depot and a Dilemma--The
Field-Book and Soiled Boots--The Blessings of Civilization--
An Honest Saxon Word--The Charge--The Arrival--A Recognition
--A Metamorphosis--The Economy of driving in Dress-Boots--
A Whisper--The Secret of the Charm of Manner, 79
AN AFTER-DINNER COTERIE.--The St. Nicholas Hotel and Santa
Claus--A Pleasant Meeting--A Social Re-Union--The _Dramatis
Personae_ of the Occasion--A Sketch--"Willard's," at
Washington--The weary Child--The Courteous Strangers--A
Grateful Tribute--Charge against American Ladies--Southern
Manner--The Stupid Porter and the _contre-temps_--An
Inference--A Scene in a Country Tavern--A French-Woman and a
Yankee-Woman--Jonathan and the Snuff-box--A Tooth-ache and a
Rocking-chair--Sympathy and Vivacity--The Climax of
Impatience! 82
A POLITE YOUNG IRELANDER,--A Fight--An Exclamation--A Fair
Vision, 91
LETTER IV.
MANNER--(_Continued._)
PRACTICAL DIRECTIONS.--Senator Sumner's appropriate
Sentence--Primary importance of Manner at Home--A reiterated
Charge--Manner to Parents--Unvarying confidence and reverence
due to a Father--Tenderness of Manner to a Mother--Example of
Washington--A Revolutionary Ball--Nature the best Teacher of
Duty--Too great familiarity, even with Relations, objectionable
--Manner to Brothers and Sisters--No assumption of superiority
justified by Birthright, or Circumstances--Every Man the
Guardian of his Sisters--A Sister's Love--Manner to a Wife--
The preservation of her Affection--The "Spectator," and a
Sketch of an Old-School Husband--Impressive Teaching--A Plea
for Old-Fashioned Authors--Reverence for the _Lares_ should
be inviolate--The Graces of Manner always discerned by the
Gentler Sex--The Sensibility of Woman--Domestic Politeness--
Cheerful Manner in conferring Favors--Importance of Trifles,
in this respect--The true nobleness of Manhood--Aphorism of
the Latinists--Manner to Children--Their Innocence and
Susceptibility--The Influence of Example in this regard--
Children judges of Character--Power of the Law of Love over
the Young--Supremacy of Moral Obligation--Manner not to be
regarded as insignificant by the Christian Gentleman--Manner
to the Unfortunate--Towards Servants and Inferiors--Arrogance
to be avoided--Mode of addressing Domestics--Queen Elizabeth
and her Courtiers--Effect of a pleasant Word and a pleasant
Tone--Peculiar sensitiveness of the Uneducated In this respect
--The professional figure of an old Soldier!--Manifestations
of Sympathy for Inferiors in Station--Readily instructed by
a kind Manner, 98
ANECDOTES AND TALES, ILLUSTRATIVE OF MANNER.
EMPERORS NOT ALWAYS WELL-BRED.--Manner of Napoleon le Grand
to Women--A Family Levee--Reply of the Mother of Bonaparte to
her Son--Napoleon's stringent enforcement of Court Rules--The
First Consul and the Lady's Train--Josephine's timidity and
her Husband's brutality--Maria Louise's Bridal-Scene--An
almost sacrilegious Misnomer, 104
A FATHER'S REBUKE.--A Steamer on the Ohio--The two Friends--
Cabin-Chit-chat--Youthful mirth reproved--The effect of a
Scene--The fortunate Guest--A Family Mansion and Family
Group--A "Study," 105
The Moral Sublime: An Anecdote, 110
The Sailor and his Mother, 111
THE BROTHERS.--Early Separation--Home Meetings--The pomposity
of the Alderman--A Family Quarrel--The respectful Son--The
Recording Angel--Charley visits the City--A Morning Call--Its
Result, 111
Washington Irving's Sketch of an old English Gentleman, 113
The Poet Rogers and his Man Friday, 114
THE FAMILY GREEN-ROOM, OR LIFE BEHIND THE SCENES.--An old
Soldier Weather-bound--A Morning Sortie--An Invitation--
Youthful Hospitality--A Nursery Fixture--The "Eldest Son and
Hope of the House"--A playful Salutation--The "Land of
Promise"--An Armful--Lunch--An unexpected Interposition--An
Overland Journey--A Catastrophe--Rubicon Crossing--The
Dolphin--The baked Apple--A "Poor Man"--The "Cup of Cold
Water"--A Stick for each--Spectacled Reconnoitering--Cheerful
Words--Devotional Scene--Scientific Inquiry--A Capture--Escape
by Stratagem--Almost a Martyr--The old Soldier re-visits the
"Mess" of his Camp-ground--A dangerous Invader--Green-room
Asides--A Rehearsal--College Comforts--A Sketch by one of
'em--A Stage-Trick--Anecdote of John Kemble, the Actor--A
Disclaimer and a Commentary--Exit of a "Star"--Table-Talk, 115
LETTER V.
MANNER IN DETAIL.
MANNER IN THE STREET--Upon Meeting a Friend or Acquaintance--
Proper Mode of Salutation--"Drawing" Gloves--Stopping to
Talk--Tact and Ease--Leaving a Companion in the Street--
Manner to Inferiors in the Street--Rule, when meeting a
Gentleman-Acquaintance walking with Ladies whom you do not
know--When you are acquainted with both Ladies and Gentlemen
whom you may meet--Shaking Hands with Ladies in the Street at
Meeting or at Parting--Courteous Phrases--Parting Ceremonies
--Precedence in the Street--Taking the Arm of another Man--
Walking with Ladies--Proper relative Position--Opening Doors,
etc.--When meeting Ladies--Upon being stopped by a Lady--
Manner to a Stranger Lady--When you wish to Speak with
a Lady in the Street--When wishing to join a Lady in her
Promenade--Proper Caution in this respect--Rule respecting
the Recognition of a Lady--An Awkward Third--Considerations
due to Ladies in case of Street-Accidents--Courtesy to
Ladies who are alighting from a Carriage--Custom of offering
the Arm to Ladies in the Street, when ascending Steps, etc.
--On entering Church, etc., with Ladies--As one of a
Travelling-Party, etc.--Gait in walking with elderly Persons
or Ladies generally--Staring at Ladies in Public Places--
Manner to Ladies entering an Opera House, at a Pump-Room,
etc.--Audible Comments upon Strangers, 128
SKETCHES ILLUSTRATIVE OF MANNERS.
THE "CUT" PORTUGUESE.--Newspapers and Coffee--West Point and
a Discussion--A Foreigner's Revenge, 135
The Broken Fan: a Lady's Lament, 136
The "Iron Duke," and Youthful Reminiscences, 137
Unexpected Rencontre--A Stroll and a Compliment--A Gentleman
of the Old School in the Street--A Tribute--A Daughter's
Boast--A Wedding--The Bridal Tour--The Rail-Car--An
Intruder--True Politeness--The Glass of Medical-water--The
Denouement, 137
THE LETTER-BOX.--An Exciting Exclamation--A Group for a
Painter--A Query--Entreaties--An Explanatory Prelude--The
Fruitless Search--The Appeal--A Dialogue--An Admission--
Musical Sounds--A Prosy Inquiry--The Summing up--The Damper
--The Wish of a True Woman--An Insinuation--A Description
drawn from Life--A Valuable Portrait--A Tribute to American
Gentlemen--An Illustration--Stage Politeness to a Lady--
Acted Poetry: the Poetry of Real Life! 141
THE PRISONER OF THE COLLISEUM.--A Moonlight Walk--A Secret
Appeal--The Fair Epicurean--The Recitation--An Apparition
--The Lasso--A Witty Reply--The Guerdon--The Clarion-note--
A Brilliant--Horseback on the Campagnia of Rome--The Pope's
Cortege--A Recognition--A Denouement--A Confession and the
Retort Courteous--A Sudden Transformation--The Beautiful
Arm--Powers' Studio--The Artist's Discovery--An Intimation, 149
LETTER VI.
MANNER--(_Continued._)
RULES TO BE OBSERVED IN MAKING MORNING VISITS, AND IN SOCIETY
GENERALLY.
Aversion to Ceremonious Morning Visits--Proper Hours--Suitable
Brevity--Character of Conversation--Card of Announcement--
Visits made at Hotels--Precautionary Rules--Mode of entering
a Drawing-Room--Drawing-Room Rules--When Meeting other
Visitors--When interrupted--When wishing to leave a Message
or make an Appointment, etc.--Proper Courtesy when Visitors
are taking Leave--Short Visits of mere Ceremony--Attendance
upon Ladies making Morning Visits--Attentions Suitable--
Introducing--Ladies to take precedence in rising to go away
--Gentlemen calling together--Dress, etc.,--When awaiting
Ladies in a Public Parlor--Standing when Ladies are Standing
--Offering the Arm--Suitable Gait--Minutia of Politeness--
Morning Wedding-Receptions--Whom you should Congratulate--
General Directions--Tact and Good Taste--Leaving Cards--Visits
on New-Year's Day--Ceremonious Intercourse with Superiors--
Manner at Church--Mrs. Chapone's Rule--Self-possession one of
the Distinctive Characteristics of Good-Breeding--Whispering,
Laughing, Staring, etc., to be avoided--Retaining the Hat not
admissible--Salutations at Church--Attending Ladies at
Concerts, Lectures, Opera, etc. etc.--Propriety of Retaining
the Seat you take on Entering--Incommoding Others--Courtesy
due to Those near you--Manner of well-bred Persons in a
Picture Gallery, etc.,--Reverence due to the Beautiful and
the Good--Partaking of Refreshments in Public Places--
Discourtesy of any Semblance of Intrusiveness--Etiquette in
Joining a Party--Politeness not to be laid aside in
Business-intercourse--Elaborate ceremony unsuitable, at
times--The Secret of Popularity--Manner at a Public Table--
Courtesy to Others--Self-importance a Proof of Vulgarity--
"Fast" Feeding--Pardonable Luxuriousness--Staring--Listening
to Private Conversations--Rudeness of Loud Talking and
Laughing, Shrugs, Glances, or Whispers--Courtesy due to a
Lady entering a Dining-Room--To Older Persons--Meeting or
passing Ladies in Public Houses--Influence of Trifles in the
Formation of Character--Frequent Discourtesy in ignoring the
Presence of Ladies in Public Parlors, etc. etc.--Politeness
due to Women, in Practical Emergencies--Nocturnal
Peccadilloes--Travelling--True Rules--Courtesy to Ladies, to
Age, to the Suffering--Indecorum of using Tobacco, etc. etc.,
in Public Conveyances--Ceremony a Shield, but not an
Excuse--A Challenge Extraordinary--Anecdote of P----, the
Poet--Practice and Tact essential to secure Polish of
Manner--Life-long Stumbling--Practical Rules, the result of
Annoying Experience--Carriage Hire--Driving with Ladies,
etc.,--Manner in Social Intercourse--As Host--Etiquette of
Dinners at Home--Precedence--Distinguished Guests--A Lady--A
Gentleman--Reception and Introduction of Guests--True
Hospitality as Host, better than mere Ceremony--Manner
towards those unacquainted with Conventional Rules--Manner at
Routs, at Home--Attention to Guests compatible with good
_ton_--Anecdote--Respect to be rendered to all one's
Acquaintances in General Society--To Married Ladies--To
Strangers--The Distinction thus Exhibited between the
Under-bred and the genuine Man of the World--No one
entitled to Self-Excuses in this Regard, 157
ANECDOTES, SKETCHES, ETC.
A PROPHESY.--Table-Talk--A Rescue and a Lady's Gratitude
--Jealousy Disarmed--Backwoodsmen--Cordiality--Costume and
Courtesy--Retort Courteous--An Interpolation and a Protest
--Mr. Clay's Popularity with the Fair--Secret of his Success
in Society--Mr. Clay and the _Belle Esprit_--A Definition
of Politeness--A Comical Illustration--A Pun--A well-turned
Compliment--Unconsciousness of Self--A Stranger's Impressions
--A Poetic Tribute, 179
THE DEVOTEE OF THE BEAUTIFUL.--A Morning Drive--Anticipation
--Spiritual Enjoyment--Discord--A Disappointment, 184
THE SOLDIER'S WIFE AND THE GHOUL.--A Journey--The truly Brave
--The Arrival--A Chapter of Accidents--Self-Reproach--The
Ghoul--The Calmness of Despair--The Versatility of Woman--
But a Step from the Sublime to the Ridiculous--The Ghoul
again--A Defiant Spirit--Punctilious Ceremony, 186
A FAIR CHAMPION.--A Query and its Solution--A Sketch--Raillery
--A Tete-a-Tete--An Interruption--"Fashionable" Hospitality--
Genuine Hospitality--A Mother's Advice--An indignant Spirit--
Rebellion, 193
THE MAN OF ONE IDEA.--An Object for Worship--A Soiree--A
Polite Colloquy--The Host at Ease--A pleasing Hostess--The
Climax, 198
Young America--an Anecdote, 200
THE PRACTICAL PHILOSOPHER.--A handsome Aristocrat--An
Accusation--A Courteous Neighbor--Fall of a "Fixed Star"
--Favorite Aphorism of Mrs. Combe--The Daughter of the
Siddons, 201
LETTER VII.
HEALTH.
THE TOILET, AS CONNECTED WITH HEALTH.
The True Basis of Health--Temperance an inclusive Term
--Foundation of the Eminence of J. Q. Adams--His Life a
Model for the Young--His early Habits--Vigorous Old Age--
Example of Franklin in regard to Temperance--Illustrations
afforded by our National History--The Bath--Varying Opinions
and Constitutions--Imprudent use of the Bath--Bishop Heber--
General Directions--The Art of Swimming--Sponging--
Deficiencies of the Toilet in England--Collateral Benefits
arising from habitual Sponge-bathing--The Hair--All Fantastic
Dressing of the Hair in bad taste--Use of Pomades--Vulgarity
of using Strong Perfumes--The Teeth--Use of Tobacco--Smoke
Dispellers--The Nails--The Feet--A complete Wardrobe essential
to Health--Early Rising--Its manifold Advantages--Example of
Washington, Franklin, etc., in this respect--Daniel Webster's
Eulogy upon Morning--Retiring early--Truth of a Medical Dogma
--Opposition of Fashion and Health--Early Hours essential to
the Student--Importance of the early Acquisition of Correct
Habits in this Regard--Illustration--A combination of Right
Habits essential to Health--Exercise--Walking--Pure Air--The
Lungs of a City--Superiority of Morning Air--An Erect Carriage
of the Body in Walking--Periodical Exercise--Necessary Caution
--The Unwise Student--A Warning--A Knowledge of Dietetics and
Physiology requisite to the Preservation of Health--Suitable
Works on these Subjects--Riding and Driving the Accomplishments
of a Gentleman--A Horse a desirable Possession--Testimony of
Dr. Johnson--The Pride of Skill--Needful Caution--Judicious
Selection of _Locale_ for these Modes of Exercise--Dr. Beatie's
Tribute to Nature--Importance of Temperance in Eating and
Drinking, as regards Health--The Cultivation of Simple Tastes
in Eating--Proper Preparation of Food Important to Health--
Re-action of the Human Constitution--Effect of Bodily Health
upon the Mind--The pernicious Use of Condiments, etc., etc.
--YOUNG AMBITION'S LADDER.--Hours for Meals--Dining Late--
Injurious Effects of Prolonged Abstinence--The Stimulus of
Distension--Repletion--Necessity of deliberate and thorough
Mastication--Judicious Use of Time in Eating--The Use of Wine,
Tobacco, etc.--The truly Free!--Dr. Johnson's Opinion--Novel
Argument against the Habits of Smoking and Drinking--Advice
of Sir Walter Raleigh to the Young--Then and Now--Council of
a "Looker-on" in this Utilitarian Age--Erroneous Impressions
--Authority of a celebrated Writer--Social Duties--The unbent
Bow--Rational Enjoyment the wisest Obedience to the Natural
Laws--A determined Pursuit in Life essential to Happiness and
Health--Too entire Devotion to a Single Object of Pursuit,
unwise--Arcadian Dreams--Attainable Realities--Truisms--Decay
of the Social and Domestic Virtues--Human Sacrifices--
Relaxations and Amusements requisite to Health--Superiority
of Amusements in the Open Air for Students and Sedentary
Persons generally--Benefits of Cheerful Companionship--
Objection to Games, etc., that require Mental Exertion--
Converse Rule--Fashionable Watering-places ill adapted to
Health--Avocations of the Farmer, Tastes as a Naturalist,
Travel, Sporting, etc., recommended--Depraved Public Taste
--Slavery to Fashion--Habits of Europeans, in this respect,
superior to our own--Modern Degeneracy--Folly thralled by
Pride, 203
ILLUSTRATIVE SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.
TO GIVE ETERNITY TO TIME.--The Senate-Chamber and the Dying
Statesman--The Moral Sublime, 225
JONATHAN'S SINS AND A FOREIGNER'S PECCADILLO.--Celebrities
--Dinner-table Sallies--Grave Charges--Yankee Rejection of
Cold Meats--Self-Preservation the First Law of Nature!--
A Mystery Solved--National Impartiality--Anecdote--Storming
a Fort--Successful Defence, by a Lady, of herself!--A
Stratagem--The Daughter of a Gun--An Explanation--The
Tortures of Outraged Modesty, 226
Dr. Abernethy and his Yankee Patient, 232
COSMOPOLITAN CHIT-CHAT.--A Heterogeneous Party--The Golden
Horn--Contemplations in a Turkish Caique--A Discussion--
"Christian Dogs" and the Dogs of Constantinople--An
unpleasant Discovery--A Magical Touch--The Song of the
Caidjis--A National Example, 232
THE IMPERTURBABLE GUEST.--A Dinner-Table Scene, 238
The Youth and the Philosopher: Lines by Whitehead, 239
LETTER VIII.
LETTER-WRITING.
Importance of this Branch of Education--Its Frequent Neglect
--Usual Faults of the Epistolary Style--Applicability of
the rule of the Lightning-Tamer--Variety of Styles appropriate
to varying Subjects and Occasions--Impossibility of laying
down all-inclusive General Rules--Requisites of Letters of
Business--Legibility in Caligraphy--Affectation in this
respect--Avoidance of Servile Imitation--Advantage of
possessing a good Business-hand--Time-saving Importance of
Rapidity--Letters of Introduction--Form Suitable for Ordinary
Purposes--Specimen of Letters Introducing a Person in Search
of a Business Situation, Place of Residence, etc., etc.--
Introduction of Artists, Professional Men, etc.--Presenting a
Celebrity by Letter--Proper Attention to Titles, Modes of
abbreviating Titles, etc., etc.--Letters of Introduction to
be unsealed--Manner of Delivering Letters of Introduction--
Cards, Envelopes, Written Messages, etc., proper on such
Occasions--Appointments and due Courtesy, etc.--Form of
Letter to a Lady of Fashion--Etiquette in regard to Addresses
--Letters Presenting Foreigners--Personal Introductions--
Common Neglect of Etiquette in this respect--Proper Mode of
Introducing Young Persons, or those of inferior social
position--Of Introducing Men to Women, very Young Ladies,
etc.--Voice and Manner on such Occasions--Explanations due to
Strangers--Common Social Improprieties--American Peculiarity
--Hotel Registers, etc.--Courtesy due to Relations as well as
to Strangers--Impropriety of indiscriminate Introductions--
Preliminary Ceremonies among Men--In the Street--At Dinners
--Evening-Parties--Receptions--Conventional Rules subject to
Changes, dictated by good-sense--Supremacy of the Law of
Kindness--Visiting Cards--European Fashion of Cards--Style
usual in America--Place of Residence--Phrases for Cards
--Business Cards: Ornaments, Devices, Color, Size,
Legibility, etc.--Letters of Recommendation--Moral
Characteristic--Proper Style of Letters of Condolence--
Form of Letters of Congratulation--Admissibility of Brevity
--Letters to Superiors--Ceremonious Form for such
Communications--Proper Mode of Addressing Entire Strangers
--Common Error in this respect--Punch's Sarcasm--Diplomats
and Public Functionaries should be Models in Letter-writing
--An Enigma--Diplomatic Letters--Letters of Friendship and
Affection--General Requisites of Epistolary Composition--
Letters a Means of conferring and Receiving Pleasure--
Distinctive Characteristic of the Epistolary Style--
Peccadilloes--Aids facilitating the Practice in this
Accomplishment--Notes of Invitation, Acceptance, Regret
--Observance of Usage--Simplicity the best _ton_ and taste
--Etiquette with regard to Invitations to Dinner--Courtesy
in Matters of Social Life--Error of an American Author--
Ceremony properly preceding taking an uninvited Friend to
a Party--Abstract good-breeding the best Test of Propriety
--Proper form of Ceremonious Notes of Invitation--Use of
the Third Person in writing Notes--Mailed Letters--Local
Addresses, Form of Signature, etc., etc.--Requisites of
Letter-Superscription--Writing-Materials--Small Sheets,
Margins, etc.--Colored Paper, Fanciful Ornaments, Initials,
&c.--Envelopes and Superscription--Wax, Seals, etc.--European
Letters--Rule--Promptitude in Letter-writing--Study of
Published Models beneficial to the Young--Scott, Byron,
Moore, Horace Walpole, Washington--Sir W. W. Pepys, etc.
--Curiosities of the Epistolary Style--Anticipated Pleasure, 241
ILLUSTRATIONS.
THE WARNING--A SKETCH OF NILE-TRAVEL.--A Group and a Dialogue
amid the Ruins of Thebes--Mustapha Aga and the Temple of
Karnac--The Arrival--The Distribution--Delights,
Disappointments, and Despair, 268
Anecdote of the Mighty Wizard of the North, 273
A DRAWING-ROOM COTERIE OF CRITICISM.--The Library and the
Intruder--Paternal Authority--Condemnation--Comments and
Criticisms--A Compliment--A fair Bevy--Wit and Wisdom--
Sport and Seriousness--A Model Note and a Fair Eulogist--
Paternal Approbation--What American Merchants should be
--An Anecdote--Discoveries and Accessions--_Apropos_--Fair
Play and a _Ruse_--A Group of Critics--An Invitation--A
Rival--An Explanation and an Admission--A Rescue and Retreat
--An Old Man's Privilege--Seventeen and Eighty-two--May and
December, 273
The First Billet-Doux, 284
LETTER IX.
ACCOMPLISHMENTS.
Comparative Importance of Accomplishments--Difference between
Europeans and Americans in this regard--Self-Education the
most Useful--Peculiar Incentives to Self-Culture possessed by
Americans--Cultivation of a Taste for the Ideal Arts--
Desirableness of a Knowledge of Drawing--Incidental Benefit
resulting from the Practice of this Art--A Taste for Music--
Mistaken Conceptions of the Importance of this Accomplishment
--Advantage of learning Dancing--Desirableness of Riding and
Driving--Various Athletic Exercises--A ready and graceful
Elocution of great Importance--A Source of Social Enjoyment
--The Art of Conversation--Use of Slang Phrases--Disadvantages
of Occasional Lenity towards the Corruptions of Language--
The only Safe Rule--Common want of Conversational Power--
The Superiority of the French over all other People in this
Respect--The Salons of Paris--Pleasures of the _Canaille_--
French Children--Practice essential to Success--The
Embellishments of Conversation--Habits of a Celebrated Talker
--Anecdote of Sheridan--Some Preparation not Unsuitable before
going into Society--Qualities most essential to secure
Popularity in General Society--The "Guilt of giving
Pain"--Avoidance of Personalities--The Language of
Compliment--Two Good Rules--Reprehensibleness of the Habit of
indulging in Gossip, Scandal, or Puerile Conversation--The
Records of "Heaven's High Chancery"--Importance of Exact
Truthfulness in Conversation--The Capacity of adapting
Language to Occasions of Importance--Use of Foreign Phrases
or Words--Tact and Good-Breeding the Safest Guides in such
Matters--Advantage of the Companionship of Cultivated
Persons, in Promoting Conversational Skill--Misuse of Strong
Language--Conversational Courtesies--Aphorism by Mr.
Madison--Modesty Proper to the Young in this Respect--Bad
taste of talking of one's self in Society--The World an
Unsuitable Confidant--Quotation from Carlyle--Sympathy with
Others--The softer graces of Social Intercourse--Cheerfulness
universally Agreeable--A Glee in which Everybody can join
--Anecdote--Human Sunbeams--Judicious selection of
Conversational Topics--Avoidance of Assumption and
Dictatorialness--Proper Regard for the Right of Opinion
--Courtesy due to Ladies and Clergymen--Folly of
Promulgating Peculiarities of Religious Opinion--Rudeness
of manifesting Undue Curiosity respecting the Affairs of
Others--Boasting of Friends--Anecdote--Quickness at Repartee,
one of the Colloquial Graces--Dean Swift and his "fellow"--
Anecdote of the Elder Adams--A Ready and Graceful Reply
to a Compliment not to be Disregarded among the Elegancies
of Conversation--The Retort Courteous--Lady Hamilton and
Lord Nelson--Specimens of Polite Phraseology--General
Conversation with Ladies--Essential Characteristics of
Light Conversation--Improprieties and Familiarities--
Disagreeable Peculiarities--A Dismal Character--Anecdote
of Cuvier--Tact in Avoiding Personal Allusions--Peculiarity
of American Society--Ages of the Loves and Graces--A Young
Jonathan and an English Girl--Violation of Confidence--
Sacredness of Private Conversations--Politeness of a Ready
Compliance with the Wishes of Others in Society, 286
ILLUSTRATIVE ANECDOTES AND SKETCHES.
SANG FROID AND SANDWICHES.--A Ride with a Duke--The eager
young Sportsman--A Rencontre--A Query and a Response--A
substantial _Bonne Bouche_, 312
A Frenchman's Relaxation, 314
Polemics and Politeness--Watering-place Society--Omnibus
Orations--Sulphur-water and Sacrifices--Religionists, Ladies
and License, Reaction and Remorse, 315
An unexpected Declaration--Parisian _furore_--The unknown
Patient--Practice and Pathos, 317
The Three Graces--Honor to whom Honor was Due--A Group for a
Sculptor--Woman's Wit, 318
Scene in a Drawing-room, 320
Musical Mania--Guitar playing and the play of Intellect, 321
A Fair Discussion, 323
National Dialect--A Bagatelle, 324
A Murillo and a Living Study--A Morning in the Louvre with a
congenial Friend--A Painter's Advice--True Epicureanism, 326
Ready Elocution and Ready Wit--A Congressional Sketch, 327
LETTER X.
HABIT.
HABIT always Indicative of Character--Its Importance not
properly estimated by the Young--Rudeness and Republicanism
too often Synonymous--Fashion not always Good-breeding--
Social American Peculiarities--Manners of Americans abroad
--Rowdyism at the Tuileries--The Propriety of Learning from
Older Nations the lighter Elegancies of Life--Madame Soule
and the Queen of Spain--The tie of a Cravat and the Affairs
of "Change"--George Peabody a Model American--The distinctive
name of Gentleman--Great Importance of Suitable Associates--
Spanish Proverb--The true Social Standard--Safeguard against
Eccentricity--Habits of Walking, Standing, Sitting--
Directions--Aaron Burr and De Witt Clinton--Bachelor
Privileges--Decorum in the presence of Ladies--Carrying the
Hat, ease of Attitude, etc.--Benefits of habitual
Self-Restraint--Habits at Table--Eating with a Knife--Soiling
the Lips, Picking the Teeth, etc., etc.--Nicety In Matters of
Detail--Courtesy due to others--Manner to Servants in
Attendance at Table--Avoidance of Sensuousness of Manner--
French Mode of Serving Dinners--The Art of Carving--Helping
Ladies at Table--Rule in Carving Joints of Meat--Changing the
Plate--Proper Mode of Taking Fish--Game--Butter at Dinner--
English Custom--Details of Habit at Table--Rights of Freemen--
A Just Distinction--Unhealthfulness of drinking too much at
Dinner--Fast Eating of Fast Americans--Sitting upon two Legs
of a Chair--Anecdote--Habits of using the Handkerchief--Toying
with the Moustache, etc., etc.--Ladies careful Observers of
Minutiae--Belief of the Ancient Gauls respecting Women--Habits
of Swaggering in Public Places--General Suggestions--Ladies
and Invalids in Terror of a Human War-Horse--Courtesy due
while playing Chess and other Games--Self-control in Sickness
--Premature adoption of Eye-Glasses--Affectation in this
respect--Proper Attitude while Reading or Studying--Habits
of Early Rising--A Poetic Superstition unwarranted by Health
and Truth--Variance between Health and Fashion in regard to
Early Hours--Aphorism by Gibbon--Habit of taking Nostrums--
Avoidance of Quacks--Habit of acting as the Protectors of
the Dependent Sex--Effect of Trifling Habits upon the
Opinions formed of us by Women--Habits of handling Prints,
Bijouterie, and Boquets, of Smoking, Whispering and Ogling,
to be shunned--Importance of Methodical Habits of Reading
and Studying--Value of the Gold Dust of Time--Anecdote--
True Rule for Reading to Advantage--Habit of Reading aloud
--Great Importance of a Habit of Industry--The Superiors of
mere Genius--Habits of Cheerfulness and Contentment not to
be overlooked by the Young--Cultivation of Habitual
Self-Respect--Pride and Poverty not Necessarily Antagonistic
--Self-Respect a Shield against the Shafts of Calumny--True
Honor not affected by Occupation or Position--Benefits of
a Habit of Self-Examination--The habitual Study of the
Scriptures recommended--CHRIST, the Great Model of Humanity
--Ungentlemanly Habit of being late at Church, etc.--
Pernicious Effects of prevalent Materialism--Personal
Enjoyment resulting from habitually idealizing all Mental
Associations with Women--Defencelessness an Impassable
Barrier to Oppression from true Manhood--Impropriety of
speaking loudly to Ladies in public Places, of attracting
Attention to them, their Names and Prerogatives--Safe Rule in
this regard--The Habit of Sympathy with Human Suffering a
Christian duty--Mistaken Opinion of Young Men in this
respect--The Examples presented by the Lives of the Greatly
Good--Mighty Achievements in the Cause of Humanity in the
Power of a Few--Habits of Good-Humor, Neatness, Order and
Regularity due to others--Fastidious Nicety in Matters of the
Toilet, demanded by proper respect for our daily Associates
--The Importance of Habits of Exercise, Temperance and
Relaxation--Economy to be Cultivated as a Habit--Economy
not Degrading--Habit of Punctuality--Slavery to mere System
condemned--Remark of Sir Joshua Reynolds--Habit of
Perseverance--Value of the Habit of putting Ideas into
Words--Of Habits of Reflection and Observation--Of rendering
Respect to Age, etc.--Culture of Esthetical Perceptions--
American Peculiarity--Curiosity not tolerated among the
well-bred--The inestimable value of Self-Possession--Its
Natural Manifestations--Concluding Advice, 329
ILLUSTRATIONS.
JONATHAN AND QUEEN VICTORIA.--A Stroll through the World's
Palace--A Royal Party--The Yankee Enthroned--A Confession, 362
DAMON AND PYTHIAS MODERNIZED.--A Family Council--A Celebrity
and a Hotel Dinner--A Discovery--A Sketch--Telegraphing and
Triumph--Beer and a Break-down--Drawing-room Chit-chat--A
Young Lady's Eulogy--Retort Courteous--A New Acquaintance--
An Explanation--Dinner the Second--Sense and Sensibility--A
Ruse--A Request and Appointment--A Contrast--Catastrophy--A
Note and a Disappointment--Fair Frankness--An Unexpected
Rencontre--The Re-union--Pictures and Pleasantries--The
Protector of the Helpless, 363
A VISIT TO ABBOTSFORD.--Sir Walter Scott as Colonel of
Dragoons, Sheriff of the County, Host, Friend, and Author
--Mrs. Hemans and Little "Charley"--Courteous Hospitality
--At Driburg with Mr. Lockhart--Solution of a Mystery--
Sir Walter's favorite "Lieutenant," 382
Confession of a Celebrated Orator, 385
THE LEMON AND THE CARNATION.--A Stage-Coach Adventure--A
fair Passenger--Churlishness and Cheerfulness--A Comic
Duet--Stage-Sickness--An impromptu Physician--Offerings
--Acknowledgments--A Docile Patient--Welcome Home--Arrival
--A Family Group--A Discovery--Recognition--An Invitation
--Hospitality--Sunday Evening at the Rectory--The Honorable
Occupation of Teaching Young Ladies--A Prophesy--Family Jars
--A Compliment, 386
A Notability and his Newfoundland Dog, 400
EXTREMES MEET.--European Travelling-Companion--A cool
Place and a "cool" Character--A Foreigner's Criticism--
Fair Commentators--Dinner-table Sketch--Three Parties in
a Rail-Car--Sunshine and Showers--An Earth-Angel--Anecdote
of Thorwalsden, the Danish Sculptor--A Scene--Gentlemanly
Inquiries--Paddy's Explanation, 401
HAVE YOU BEEN IMPATIENT?--A Broken Engagement--About a Horse
--Charley's Orphan Cousin--Ideas of Luxury--Novel Experiences
--The freed Bird--Bless God for Flowers and Friends!--A
Recoil--A Tirade--The Bird Re-caged--Self-Examination--
Retrospection and Resolution--A Note and a Boquet--A Blush
Transfixed, 412
LETTER XI.
MENTAL AND MORAL EDUCATION.
The Author's Conscious Incapacity--Education within the Power
of All--Americans not Socially Trammelled--The Two Attributes
of Mind essential to Self-Culture--Prospective Discernment--
The most enlightened System of Education--Duty of Cultivating
the Moral as well as the Intellectual Nature--The Acquisition
of Wealth not to be regarded as the highest Human Attainment
--Definition of Self-Culture--Reading for Amusement only,
Unwise--"Aids and Appliances" of Judicious Reading--Example
of a Great Man--Fictitious Literature--Pernicious Effects
often resulting from a Taste for Light Reading--Condemnation
of Licentious Novels--Advantages of Noting Choice Passages
in Reading--Carlyle's Criticism of Public Men--The Study of
History of Great Importance--Benefits resulting from the
Perusal of well-selected Biographies--Enumeration of
celebrated Works of this Character--Newspaper and Magazine
Reading--A Cultivated Taste in Literature and Art the result
of thorough Mental Training--Affectation and Pretention in
this regard to be avoided--Critical Assumption condemned--
Impressions produced upon observing Judges by a Pretentious
Manner--"The World's Dread Laugh"--Advantages of Foreign
Travel--Misuse of this Advantage--Knowledge of Modern
Languages essential to a complete Education--False Impression
prevalent on this point--Philosophic Wisdom--Wise Covetousness
--Tact the Result of General Self-Culture--An Individual Moral
Code of advantage--Example of Washington--Education not
completed by a Knowledge of Books--Definition of True
Education--The Development of the Moral Perceptions promotive
of Intellectual Advancement--Undue Exaltation of Talent over
Virtue--Religious Faith the legitimate Result of
rightly-directed Education--Needful Enlightenment of
Conscience--The Life of Jesus Christ the best Moral
Guide-Book--Charity to the Faults of others the Result of
Self-Knowledge--The Golden Rule of the Great Teacher--The
highest Aim of Humanity--Reverence for the Spiritual Nature
of Man the Result of Self-Culture--Danger of Self-Indulgence
in regard to trifling Errors--Caution against the Infidel
Philosophy of the Times--The establishment of Fixed
Principles of Action--The True Mode of computing Life, 438
The Attainment of Knowledge under Difficulties--Necessity the
Nurse of True Greatness--The Learned Blacksmith--The Wagoner
--The Mill-Boy of the Slashes--Franklin and Webster, 439
A Peep at Passers-by, from the "Loopholes of Retreat," 440
The Force of Genius--A Man about Town--Anecdote--Manly
Indignation, 441
Old-Fashioned Honor, 442
Webster on Biblical Studies, 443
The Young Frenchman and the Pyramids, 443
PECCADILLOES AND PUNCTILIOUSNESS.--Extract--Sir Humphrey
Davy--Tribute to Religion, 446
LETTER XII.
CHOICE OF COMPANIONS AND FRIENDS.--SELECTION OF A PURSUIT IN
LIFE.--COURTSHIP.--MARRIAGE.--HOUSEKEEPING.--PECUNIARY MATTERS.
RULE to be observed in the Selection of Associates--Advantage
of the Companionship of Persons of more Experience than
Ourselves--False Sentiments entertained by Lord Byron
regarding Friendship--Self-Consciousness affords the best
Contradiction to these Erroneous Opinions--Value of
Friendship--Importance of the Judicious Selection of
Confidants--Folly of demanding Perfection in one's Friends
--Selection of Employment--The first Consideration in this
Relation--Thorough Education should not be confined to
Candidates for the Learned Professions--The Merchant Princes
of America--Avenues for Effort--All Honest Occupations
dignified by Right Conduct--The Pursuit of Wealth as an
End--Freedom the Prerogative of the Worker--A Professional
Manner Condemned--Individual Insignificance--Advantages of
Early Marriage--Cause of prevalent Domestic Unhappiness--Each
Individual the best Judge of his own Conjugal Requisites--
Health, Good-Temper, and Education essential in a Wife--
Accomplishments not essential to Domestic Happiness--
Disadvantages resulting from a previous Fashionable Career
--A True Wife--Respect due to the proper Guardians of a Lady
by her Suitor--Advantages of a Friendship with a Married Lady
--Reserve and Respect of Manner due to Female Friends--Manly
Frankness as a Suitor the only Honorable Course--Attachment
to one Woman no Excuse for Rudeness to others--The Art of
Pleasing--Presents, Complimentary Attentions, etc.--Nicety
of Perception usual in Women--Power of the Law of Kindness
in Home-Life--The Slightest Approach to Family Dissension to
be carefully avoided--The Duty of a Husband to exert a Right
Influence over his Wife--Union of Spirit the only Satisfying
Bond--More than Roman Sternness assumed by some--Sacredness
of all the Better Emotions of the Human Heart--Expressive
Synonymes--Pecuniary Matters--The Pernicious Effects of
Boarding--An Old Man's Advice--Household Gods--Propriety of
Providing for Future Contingencies--Slavery Imposed by Pride
and Poverty--Comfort and Refinement compatible with Moderate
Resources--Books and Works of Art to be preferred to Fine
Furniture--Importance of Cherishing the Esthetical Tastes of
Children--"Keeping" a great Desideratum in Social and
Domestic Life, 447
ILLUSTRATIVE SKETCHES, ETC.
THE MOOTED POINT.--A Morning Visit and Morning Occupations--
Macaulay and the Blanket Coat--Curate's Daughters and the
Daughters of New-England--A Sybarite--A Disclaimer and a
Witticism--Not a Gentleman--"Trifles make the sum of Human
Things"--The Slough of Despond--A Gift--Reading Poetry--
A Soldier's Tactics--The "Unpardonable Sin"--A Fair Champion
and a Noble Sentiment, 463
Anecdotes of a British Minister, an Ex-Governor, and an
American Statesman, 470
Chief-Justice Marshall and the Young Man of Fashion, 472
Habits of Early Friends, 478
THE PROPHECY FULFILLED.--A Denouement--Cupid turned Carrier--
Wedding-Cards and Welcome News--A True Woman's Letter, 478
Uncle Hal's Farewell, 480
THE
AMERICAN GENTLEMAN'S GUIDE.
LETTER I.
DRESS.
MY DEAR YOUNG FRIENDS:--
As you are already, to some extent, acquainted with the design and scope
of the Letters I propose to address to you, there is no necessity for an
elaborate prelude at the commencement of the series.
We will, with your permission, devote our attention first to _Dress_--to
the external man--and advance, in accordance with the true rules of Art,
gradually, towards more important subjects.
Whatever may be the abstract opinions individually entertained
respecting the taste and regard for comfort evinced in the costume now,
with trifling variations, almost universally adopted by men in all
civilized lands, few will dispute the practical utility of conforming to
the general requisitions of Fashion.
Happily for the gratification of fancy, however, the all-potent goddess,
arbitrary and imperative as are her laws, permits, at least to some
extent, such variations from her general standard as personal
convenience, physical peculiarities, or varying circumstances may
require.
But a due regard for these and similar considerations by no means
involves the exhibition of _eccentricity_, which I hold to be
inconsistent with good taste, whether displayed in dress or manner.
A violation of the established rules of Convention cannot easily be
defended, except when required by our obligations to the more strenuous
requirements of duty. Usually, however, departures from conventional
propriety evince simply an ill-regulated character. The Laws of
Convention, like all wise laws, are instituted to promote "the greatest
good of the greatest number." They constitute a _Code of Politeness and
Propriety_, adapted to the promotion of social convenience, varying
somewhat with local circumstances, it may be, but everywhere
substantially the same. It is common to talk of the eccentricities of
genius, as though they are essential concomitants of genius itself.
Nothing can be more unfounded and pernicious than this impression. The
eccentricities that sometimes characterize the intellectually gifted,
are but so many humiliating proofs of the imperfection of human nature,
even when exhibiting its highest attributes. Hence the affectation of
such peculiarities simply subjects one to ridicule, and, in many
instances, to the contempt of sensible people.
Some years since, when Byron was the "bright, particular star"
worshipped by young Sophs, it was quite a habit among our juvenile
collegians to drink gin, wear their collars _a la mode de Byron_,
cultivate misanthropy upon system, and manifest the most concentrated
horror of seeing women eat! In too many instances, the sublimity of
genius was meagerly illustrated by these aspirants for notoriety. In
place of catching an inspiration, they only caught cold; their gloomy
indifference to the hopes, the enjoyments, and pursuits of ordinary
life, distressed no one, save, perhaps, their _ci-devant_ nurses, or the
"most tender of mothers;" their "killing" peculiarities of costume were
scarcely daguerreotyped even upon the impressible hearts of the
school-girls whose smiling observance they might chance passingly to
arrest; women of sense and education pertinaciously adhered to a liking
for roast beef, with variations, and manifested an equally decided
partiality for the society and attention of men who were not indebted
for the activity of their intellects to the agency of the juniper berry!
Falling into such absurdities as these, a man cannot hope to escape the
obnoxious imputation of being _very young_!
But while care is taken to avoid the display of undue attention to the
adornment of the outer man, everything approaching to indifference or
neglect, in that regard, should be considered equally reprehensible. No
one entertains a more profound respect for the prodigious learning of
Dr. Johnson, from knowing that he often refused to dine out rather than
change his linen; nor are we more impressed by the gallant tribute to
kindred genius that induced his attending Mrs. Siddons to her carriage,
when she visited him in the third-floor rooms he continued to occupy
even in his old age, because his trunk-hose were dangling about his
heels, as he descended the stairs with his fair guest. One does not envy
Porson, the greatest of modern Greek scholars, his habitually dirty and
shabby dress, because it is forever associated with his learned
celebrity! Neither is Greeley a better, or more influential editor, that
he is believed to be invisible to mortal eyes except when encased in a
long drab-colored overcoat. He, however, seems to have adopted an axiom
laid down in a now almost-forgotten novel much admired in my
youth--"Thaddeus of Warsaw," I think--"Acquire the character of an
oddity, and you seat yourself in an easy-chair for life." The
supposition of monomania most charitably explains the indulgence in
habits so disgusting as those well-known to have characterized the
distinguished _savant_ ----, who died recently at Paris. Had he slept in
a clean bed, and observed the decencies of life, generally, the race
would have been equally benefited by his additions to scientific lore,
and his country the more honored that he left a name in no degree in
_bad odor_ with the world!
But to return:--No better uninspired model for young Americans exists
than that afforded, in the most minute details, of the life and
character of Washington; and even upon a point comparatively so
insignificant as that we are at present discussing, he has left us his
recorded opinion: "Always," he writes to his nephew, "have your clothes
made of the best materials, by the most accomplished persons in their
business, whose services you can command, and in the prevailing
fashion."
With such illustrious authority for the advice, then, I unhesitatingly
counsel you to dress _in the fashion_.
To descend to particulars designed to include all the minutiae of a
gentleman's wardrobe, were as futile as useless; but a few hints upon
this point, may, nevertheless, not be wholly out of place in epistles so
frank, practical and familiar as these are intended to be.
The universal partiality of our countrymen for _black_, as the color of
dress clothes, at least, is frequently remarked upon by foreigners.
Among the best dressed men on the continent, as well as in England,
black, though not confined to the clergy, is in much less general use
than here. They adopt the darker shades of blue, brown and green, and
for undress almost as great diversity of colors as of fabrics. An
English gentleman, for instance, is never seen in the morning (which
means abroad all that portion of the twenty-four hours devoted to
business, out-door amusements and pursuits, &c.;--it is always _morning_
until the late dinner hour has passed) in the half-worn coat of fine
black cloth, that so inevitably gives a man a sort of shabby-genteel
look; but in some strong-looking, rough, knock-about "fixin,"
frequently of nondescript form and fashion, but admirably adapted both
in shape and material for use--for work. Of this, by the way, every man,
worthy of the name, has a daily portion to perform, in some shape or
other--from the Duke of Devonshire, with a fortune that would purchase
half-a-dozen consort-king-growing German principalities, and leave a
princely inheritance for his successors, to the youngest son of a
youngest son, who, though proud of the "gentle blood" in his veins,
earns, as an _employe_ in the service of the government,--in some one of
its ten thousand forms of patronage and power--the limited salary that
barely suffices, when eked out by the most ingenious economy, to supply
the hereditary necessities of a gentleman. But this is a digression. As
I was saying in the morning, during work-hours, whatever be a man's
employment, and wherever, his outside garb should be suited to ease and
convenience, its only distinctive marks being the most scrupulous
cleanliness, and the invariable accompaniment of fresh linen.
Coming to the discussion of matters appertaining to a toilette elaborate
enough for occasions of ceremony, I think of no better general rule than
that laid down by Dr. Johnson (in his character of a shrewd observer of
men and manners, rather than as himself affording an illustration of the
axiom, perhaps)--"_the best dressed persons are those in whose attire
nothing in particular attracts attention_."
There is an indescribable air of refinement, a _je ne sais quoi_, as
the French have it, at an equal remove from the over-washed look of your
thorough Englishman (their close-cropped hair always reminds me of the
incipient stage of preparation for assuming a strait-jacket!) and the
walking tailor's advertisement that perambulates Fifth Avenue,
Chestnut-street, the Boston Mall, and other fashionable promenades in
our cis-Atlantic cities, in attendance upon the locomotive milliner's
show-cases, yclept "belles"--God save the mark!
The essentials of a gentleman's dress, for occasions of ceremony are--a
stylish, well-fitting cloth coat, of some dark color, and of
unexceptionable quality; nether garments to correspond, or in warm
weather, or under other suitable circumstances, white pants of a
fashionable material and make; the finest and purest linen, embroidered
in white, if at all; a cravat and vest, of some dark or neutral tint,
according to the physiognomical peculiarities of the wearer, and the
_prevailing mode_; a fresh-looking, fashionable black hat and
carefully-fitted, modish boots, light-colored gloves, and a soft, thin,
white handkerchief.
Perhaps, the most arbitrary of earthly divinities permits her subjects
more license in regard to the arrangement of the hair and beard, than
with respect to any other matter of the outer man. A real artist, and
such every man should be, who meddles with the "human face divine" or
its adjuncts, will discern at a glance the capabilities of each head
submitted to his manipulation. Defects will thus be lessened, or wholly
concealed, and good points brought out.
If you wear your beard, wear it in moderation--extremes are always
vulgar! Avoid all fantastic arrangements of the hair--turning it under
in a huge roll, smooth as the cylinder of a steam-engine, and as little
suggestive of good taste and comfort as would be the coil of a boa
constrictor similarly located, parting it in Miss Nancy style, and
twisting it into love [soap?] locks with a curling-tongs, or allowing it
to straggle in long and often, seemingly, "uncombed and unkempt" masses
over the coat-collar. This last outrage of good-taste is so gross a
violation of what is technically called "keeping," as to excite in me
extreme disgust. Ill, indeed, does it accord with the trim, compact,
easily-portable costume of our day, and a miserable imitation, it is of
the flowing hair that, in days of yore, fell naturally and gracefully
upon the broad lace collar turned down over the velvet or satin
short-cloak of the cavaliers and appropriately adorning shoulders upon
which, with equal fitness, drooped a long, waving plume, from the
wide-brimmed, steeple-crowned, picturesque hat that completed the
costume.
While on this subject of _collars_, etc., let us stop to discuss for a
moment the nice matter of their size and shape. Just now, like the
"life" of a "poor old man," they have "dwindled to the shortest span,"
under the pruning shears of the operatives of the mode. Whether this is
the result of a necessity growing with the lengthening beards that
threaten wholly to ignore their existence, you must determine for
yourselves, but I must enter my protest against the total extinction of
this relieving line of white, so long, at least, as the broad wristband,
now so appropriately accompanying the wide coat-sleeve, shall remain in
vogue.
The mention of this last tasteful appendage naturally brings to mind the
highly ornate style of sleeve-buttons now so generally adopted. Eschew,
I pray you, all _flash stones_ for these or any other personal ornament.
Nothing is more unexceptionable for sleeve-buttons and the fastenings of
the front of a shirt, than _fine gold_, fashioned in some simple form,
sufficiently massive to indicate use and durability, and skillfully and
handsomely wrought, if ornamented at all. Few young men can consistently
wear diamonds, and they are, if not positively exceptionable, in no
degree requisite to the completion of the most elaborate toilette. But
those who do sport them, should confine themselves to genuine stones of
unmistakable water, and never let their number induce in the minds of
beholders the recollection that a travelling Jew--whether from
hereditary distrust of the stability of circumstances, or from some
other consideration of personal convenience, usually carries his entire
fortune about his person! Better the simplest fastenings of
mother-of-pearl than such staring vulgarity of display. And so of a
watch and its appendages. A _gentleman_ carries a watch for convenience,
and secures it safely upon his person, wearing with it no useless
ornament, paraded to the eye. It is, like his pencil and purse, good of
its kind, and if he can afford it, handsome, but it is never _flashy_!
The fashion of sporting _signet-rings_ is not so general, perhaps, as it
was a little while since, but it still retains a place among the minutiae
of our present theme. Here, again, the same general rules of good taste
apply as to other ornaments. When worn at all, everything of this sort
should be most unexceptionably and unmistakably tasteful and genuine.
Any deviation from good _ton_, in this regard, will as inevitably give a
man the air of a loafer as an ill-fitting boot will, or the slightest
declension from the perpendicular in his hat!
In connection with my earnest advice in regard to all flash ornaments,
to whatever purpose applied, I must not omit to record my protest
against staring patterns in pants, cravats, vests, etc. Carefully avoid
all the large, many-colored plaids and stripes, of which (as _Punch_ has
demonstrated) it takes more than one ordinary-sized man to show the
pattern; and all glaring colors as well. I have no partiality, as I
believe I have intimated, for the eternal dead black which, abroad at
least, belongs, by usage, primarily to the clergy; but this is a better
extreme than that which has for its original type the sign-board
getting-up of a horse-jockey.
A fashion has of late years obtained extensively, which has always,
within my remembrance, had its admirers--that of a _white suit
throughout_, for very warm weather. This has the great merit of comfort,
and some occupations permit its adoption without inconvenience. But
even the use of thin summer cravats (which should always be of some
unconspicuous color) wonderfully mitigates the sufferings incident to
the dog-days, and these are admissible for dress occasions, when
corresponding with the general effect of the vest and nether
investments.
To recur once more to the important item of body linen;--never wear a
_colored_[1] shirt--have no such article in your wardrobe. Figures and
stripes do not conceal impurity, nor should this be a desideratum with
any decent man. The now almost obsolete German author, Kotzebue--whose
plays were very much admired when I was young, and whom your modern
students of German should read in the original--I remember, makes one of
his female characters, a sensible, observing woman, say that she
detected a _gentleman_ in the disguise of a menial by observing the
_fineness of his linen_! If your occupation be such as to require
strong, rough-and-tumble garments, wear them, unhesitatingly, when you
are at work, but have them good of their kind, and keep them clean.
While your dress handkerchief should not look, either for size or
quality, as if you had, for the nonce, perverted the proper use of
bed-linen--in the woods, for pioneer travelling, rough riding, etc., a
bandanna is more sensible, as is a cut-away coat, or something of that
sort, with ample pockets, loose, strong, and warm, and a "soft"
broad-brimmed, durable hat, or cap, as the case may be--not an old, fine
black cloth dress-coat, surmounted by a narrow-rimmed "segment of a
stove-pipe," with a satin cravat, though it be half-worn! In short, my
dear boys, study fitness and propriety in all things. This is the
legitimate result of a well regulated mind, the characteristic of a true
Gentleman--which every American should aim to be--not a thing made up of
dress, perfumery, and "boos," as Sir Archy McSycophant styled them; but
a right-minded, self-respecting man, with Excelsior for his motto, and
our broad, free, glorious land "all before him, where to choose" the
theatre of a useful, honorable life. Matters like those I have dwelt on
in this letter, are trifles, comparatively; but trifles, in the
aggregate, make life, and, thus viewed, are not unworthy the subordinate
attention of a man of sense. They are collateral, I admit, but they go
to make up the perfect whole--to assist in the attainment of the true
standard which every young man should keep steadily in view. And,
insignificant as the effect of attention to such matters may appear to
you, depend upon it, that habits of propriety and refinement in regard
to such personal details, have more than a negative influence upon
character in general. The man who preserves inviolable his self-respect,
in regard to all personal habits and surroundings, is, _ceteris
paribus_, far less likely to acquire a relish for low company and
profligate indulgences, and to cultivate correspondent mental and moral
attributes. It occurs to me that, going into detail, as I have, your
attention should, in the proper connection, have been called to a little
matter of dress etiquette, of which you moderns are strangely
neglectful, as it appears to an old stickler for propriety like me. To
have offered an ungloved hand to a lady, in the dance, would, in days
when I courted the graces, have been esteemed a peccadillo, and
over-punctilious as you may think me, it seems very unhandsome to me. A
dress costume is no more complete without gloves than without boots, and
to touch the pure glove of a lady with uncovered fingers
is--impertinent!
[1] It will be understood, of course, that the necessities and the
regulations of military life are here excepted.
Here, again, let me condemn all fancy display. A fresh white, or, what
amounts at night to the same thing, pale yellow glove, is the only
admissible thing for balls, other large evening parties, ceremonious
dinners, and wedding receptions; but for making ordinary morning visits,
or for the street, some dark, unnoticeable color is in quite as good
taste and _ton_. Bright-colored gloves bring the hands into too much
conspicuousness for good effect, and, to my mind, give the whole man a
plebeian air. I remember once being, for a long time, unable to divine
what a finely-dressed young fellow, in whom I thought I recognised the
son of an old college chum, could be carrying in each hand, as he walked
towards me across the Albany Park; of similar size and color, he seemed,
John Gilpin like, to have
----"hung a bottle on each side
To keep the balance sure!"
When I could, in sailor phrase, "make him out," behold a pair of great
fat hands, incased in tight-fitting gloves, closely resembling in hue
the brightest orange-colored wrapping-paper!
You will expect me not entirely to overlook the important topic of
_over-garments_.
As in all similar matters, it is the best taste not to deviate so much
from the prevailing modes as to make one's self remarkable. Fortunately,
however, for the infinite diversity presented by the human form, a
sufficient variety in this respect is offered by fashion to gratify the
greatest fastidiousness. And no point of dress, perhaps, more
imperatively demands discrimination, with regard to its selection. Thus,
a tall, slender figure, with narrow shoulders and ill-developed arms, is
displayed to little advantage in the close-fitting, long-skirted
overcoat that would give desirable compactness to the rotund person of
our short, portly friend, Alderman D., while the defects of the same
form would be almost wholly concealed by one of the graceful and
convenient Talmas that so successfully combine beauty and comfort, and
afford, to an artistically-cultivated eye, the nearest approach to an
abstract standard of taste, presented by masculine attire, since the
flowing short cloak of the so-called Spanish costume was in vogue.
Here, again, one is reminded of the propriety of regarding _fitness_ in
the selection of garments especially designed to promote comfort.
Nothing can well be more ungainly than the appearance of a man in one of
the large woollen shawls that have of late obtained such general favor,
at least as they are frequently worn, slouching loosely from the
shoulders, and almost necessarily accompanied by a stoop, the more
readily to retain them in place. They are well adapted to night travel,
to exposed riding and driving (when properly secured about the chest),
and are useful as wrappers when a man is dressed for the opera or a
ball. But that any sensible person should encumber himself with such an
appendage in _walking_--for daily street wear--is matter for surprise.
They have by no means the merit for this purpose of the South American
_poncho_, which is simply a large square shawl of thick woollen cloth,
with an opening in the centre for passing it over the head, thus
securing it in place, and giving the wearer the free use of his arms and
hands, a desideratum quite overlooked in the usual arrangement, or
rather _non_-arrangement of these dangling "M'cGregors." But the way, I
well remember, that one of the young T----s of Albany, not very many
years ago, was literally mobbed in the streets of that ancient asylum of
Dutch predilections, upon his appearance there in a _poncho_ brought
with him on his return from Brazil! So much for the mutations of fashion
and opinion!
To sum up all, let me slightly paraphrase the laconic and invariable
advice of the immortal Nelson to the young middies under his command.
"Always obey your superior officer," said the English hero, "and hate a
Frenchman as you would the devil!" Now then, for my "new reading:"--In
DRESS, _always obey the dictates of Fashion, regulated by good sense,
and hate shabby gentility as you would the devil_!
Well, you young dogs, here ends the substance of my first old-fashioned
letter of advice to you. I will confess that upon being convinced, as I
was at the very outset, how much easier it is to think and talk than to
write, I was more than half inclined to recall my promise to you all.
The pen of your veteran uncle, my boys, has little of "fuss and
feathers," though it may be "rough and ready." The "Mill-Boy of the
Slashes" used often to say, when we were both young men, and constantly
associated in business matters as well as in friendship, "Let Lunettes
do that, he holds the readier pen;" but times are changed since then,
and you must not expect fine rhetorical flourishes, or the elegances of
modern phraseology in these straight-forward effusions. I learned my
English when "Johnson's Dictionary" was the only standard of our
language, and the "Spectator" regarded as affording an unexceptionable
model of style. With this proviso, I dare say, we shall get on bravely,
now that we are once fairly afloat; and, perhaps, some day we'll get an
enterprising publisher in our Quaker City to shape these effusions into
a "_prent book_" for _private circulation_--a capital idea! at least for
redeeming my crabbed hieroglyphics from being "damned with faint praise"
by my "numerous readers," a thought by no means palatable to the
sensitive mind of your old relative.
I believe it was "nominated in the bond," that the subjects treated of
in each of my promised letters shall be illustrated by stories, or
anecdotes, drawn from what you were pleased to style "the ample stores
furnished by a life of large observation and varied experience." It
occurs to me, however, that as this, my first awkward essay to gratify
your united wishes, has already grown to an inconceivable length, it
were well to reserve for another occasion the fulfillment of the latter
clause of your request, as more ample space and a less lagging pen may
then second the efforts of
Your affectionate
UNCLE HAL.
P. S.--In my next, I will include some practical directions respecting
the details of costume suitable for various ceremonious occasions--the
opera, dinners, weddings, etc., etc.
"Whew!" methinks I hear you all exclaim, "our old uncle setting himself
up as
"'The glass of fashion and the mould of form!'
He may indeed be able to
----"'hold the mirror up to Nature;'
but to attempt to reflect the changeful hues of mere
fashion"----
Not too fast, my young friends! Do not suppose me capable of such folly.
But, for the benefit of such of you as are so far removed from the
centre of _ton_ as to require such assistance, I have invoked the aid
of a good-humored friend, thoroughly _au fait_ in such matters, the
"observed of all observers" in our American Belgravia, a luminary in
whose rays men do gladly sun themselves.
H. L.
LETTER II.
SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.
MY DEAR NEPHEWS:
In accordance with the promise with which I concluded my last letter, I
will give you, in this, narrated in my homely way, some anecdotes,
illustrative of the opinions I have expressed upon the subject of DRESS.
* * * * *
Liking, sometimes, to amuse myself by a study of the masses, in holyday
attire and holyday humor,--to see the bone and sinew of our great
country, the people who make our laws, and for whose good they are
administered by their servants, enjoying a jubilee, and wishing also to
meet some old friends who were to be there (among others, Gen. Wool,
who, though politicians accused him of going to lay pipe for the
presidency, is a right good fellow, and the very soul of old-fashioned
hospitality), I went on one occasion to a little city in western New
York, to attend a State Fair.
On the night of the _fete_ that concluded the affair, your cousins,
Grace and Gerte, to whom you all say I can refuse nothing, however
unreasonable, insisted that I should be their escort, and protested
warmly against my remonstrances upon the absurdity of an old fellow like
me being kept up until after midnight to watch, like a griffin guarding
his treasures, while two silly girls danced with some "whiskered
Pandoor," or some "fierce huzzar," who would be as much puzzled to tell
where he won his epaulettes as was our (militia) Gen. ----, of whom,
when he was presented to that sovereign, on the occasion of a court
levee, Louis Philippe asked, "where he had served!"
It would not become me to repeat half the flattering things by which
their elegant _chaperon_, Mrs. B. seconded the coaxing declarations of
your cousins, that they would be "enough more proud to go with Uncle Hal
than with all the half-dozen beaux together," whose services had been
formally tendered and accepted for the occasion.
"Yes, indeed," cried Gerte, "for Uncle Hal is a _real_ soldier!" And I
believe the wheedling rogue actually pressed her velvety lips to the
ugly sabre scar that helps to mar my time-worn visage.
"Col. Lunettes is too gallant not to lay down his arms when ladies are
his assailants!" said Mrs. B. with one of her conquering smiles. "Well,
ladies," said I, "I cry you mercy--
"'Was ever colonel by such sirens wooed,
Was ever colonel by such sirens won!'"
I have no intention to inflict upon you a long description of the
festivities of the evening. Suffice it to say upon that point, that the
"beauty and fashion," as the newspapers phrase it, not only of the
Empire State, but of the Old Dominion, and others of the fair sisterhood
of our Union, were brilliantly represented.
When our little party entered the dancing-room, which we did at rather a
late hour, for we had been listening to some good speaking in another
apartment--the ladies declared that they preferred to do so, as they
could dance at any time, but rarely had an opportunity of hearing
distinguished men speak in public,--the "observed of all observers,"
among the fairer part of the assembly, and the envy, of course, of all
the male candidates for admiration, was young "General ----," one of the
_aids-de-camp_ of the Governor of the State. In attendance upon his
superior officer, who was present with the rest of his staff, our
juvenile Mars was in full military dress, and made up, as the ladies
say, in the most elaborate and accepted style of love-locks (I have no
idea what their modern name may be), whiskers and moustaches. The glow
that mantled the cheeks of the triumphant Boanerges could not have been
deeper dyed had his "_modesty_," like that of Washington, when
overpowered by the first public tribute rendered to him by Congress,
"been equalled only by his bravery!"
"He above the rest in shape and gesture,
Proudly eminent."
but apparently, wholly unconscious of the attention of which he was the
subject, was smilingly engrossed by his devotion to the changes of the
dance, and to his fair partner; and the last object that attracted my
eye, as we retired from the field of his glory, were the well-padded
military coat, the curling moustaches and sparkling eyes of
"Adjutant-Gen. ----!"
True to my old-fashioned notions of propriety, I went the next morning
to pay my respects to Mrs. B., and to look after your cousins,--especially
that witch Gerte, whom her father had requested me to "keep an eye upon,"
when placing her under my care for the journey to the Fair.
I found the whole fair bevy assembled in the drawing-room, and in high
spirits.
After the usual inquiries put and answered, Grace cried out, "Oh! Uncle
Hal, I must tell you! Gen. ---- has been here this morning! He was
wearing such a beautiful coat!--his dress last night was nothing to
it!--it fairly took all our hearts by storm!"
At these words, a merry twinkle, as bright and harmless as sheet
lightning, darted round the circle.
The master of the house entered at that moment, and before the
conversation he had interrupted was fairly renewed, invited me into the
adjoining dining-room to "take a mouthful of lunch."
While my host and I sat at a side-table, sipping a little excellent old
Cognac, with just a dash of ice water in it (a bad practice, a very bad
practice, by the by, my boys, which I would strenuously counsel you not
to fall into; but an inveterate habit acquired by an old soldier when no
one thought of it being very wrong) the lively chit-chat in the
drawing-room occasionally reached my ears.
"It was tissue, I am quite sure!" said Miss ----.
"No matter about the material--the color would have redeemed anything!"
cried Grace.
"Sea-green!" chimed in the flute notes of another of the gay junto,
"what can equal the General's _verdancy_?"
"What?" (here I recognized the animated voice of the lady of the
mansion); "why, only his _mauvais ton_, in 'congratulating' me upon
having 'so many' at my reception for Governor and Mrs. ----, the other
evening, and his equally flattering assurance that he had not seen so
'brilliant a military turn-out in a long time'--meaning, of course, his
elegant self! You are mistaken, however, Laura, about his coat being of
_tissue_, it was _lawn_, and had just come home from his _lawn-dress_,
when he put it on. I distinctly saw the mark of the smoothing-iron on
the cuff, as well as that his wristband was soiled considerably."
"He had only had time to 'change' his coat since he went 'home with the
girls in the morning,'" chimed in some one, "and his hair, I noticed as
he rose to make what he called his '_farewell bow of exit_,' was filled
with the dust of that dirty ball-room."
"Which couldn't be brushed out without taking out the curl, too, I
suppose!" This last sally emanated I believe, from one of the most
amiable, usually, of the group.
"Well," said the hostess, with a half-sigh of relief, "he seldom
inflicts himself upon me! His grand _entree_ this morning, in the
character of a katy-did, gotten up _a la mode naturelle_," (here there
was a general clapping of hands, accompanied by _bravos_ that would have
rejoiced the heart of a prima donna), "was, no doubt, occasioned by his
having heard some one say that, what vulgar people style a '_party
call_,' was incumbent upon him after my reception. What a pity his
informant had not also enlightened him on another point of _ettiquetty_,
as old Mr. Smith calls it, and so spared me the mortification, my dears,
of presenting to you, as a specimen of the beaux of ----, and one of the
aids-de-camp of Governor ----, a man making a visit of ceremony in a
_bright, pea-green, thin muslin shooting-jacket_!"
* * * * *
Bulwer, the novelist, when I was last in London, some two or three years
ago--and for aught I know he still continues the practice--used to
appear in his seat in the English House of Commons one day in
light-colored hair, eye-brows and whiskers, with an entire suit to
correspond; and the next, perhaps, in black hair, etc., accompanied by a
black coat, neckcloth, and so on throughout the catalogue. A proof of
the admitted _eccentricities of genius_, I suppose.
* * * * *
D----, who is now a very respectable veteran lawyer, and well known in
the courts of the Empire State, was originally a Green Mountain
Boy--tall, a trifle ungainly, with a laugh that might have shaken his
native hills, rather unmanageable hair, each individual member of the
fraternity, instead of regarding the true democratic principle, often
choosing to keep "Independence" on its own account, and a walk that
required the whole breadth of an ordinary side-walk to bring out all its
claims to admiration. Though D---- did not sacrifice to the graces, he
really wrote very clever "Lines;" but his shrewd native sense taught him
that a reputation as a magazine poet would not have a direct tendency to
increase the number of his clients. So the sometime devotee of the Muse
of Poetry, bravely eschewing the open use of a talent that, together
with his ever-ready good-humor and quiet Yankee drollery, had brought
him somewhat into favor in society, despite his natural disadvantages,
entered into partnership with an old practitioner in A----, and bent
himself to his career with sturdy energy of purpose.
"New Year" coming round again in the good old Dutch city where D---- had
pitched his tent, some of his friends offered to take him with them in
their round of calls, and introduce him to such of their fair friends as
it was desirable to know; hinting, at the same time, that this would
afford a suitable occasion for donning a suit of new and fashionable
garments.
On the first of January, therefore, agreeable to appointment, his broad,
pock-marked face--luminous as a colored lantern outside an
oyster-saloon--and his gait more than usually _diffusive_, D---- was
seen coming along from his lodgings, to meet his companions for the
day's expedition, and evidently with sails full set. It soon became
apparent to all beholders, not only that the grub had been transformed
into a full-fledged butterfly of fashion, but--that he wore his long,
wide, ample-caped, new cloak _wrong side out_!
* * * * *
At the recent Peace Convention in Paris, even those strenuous adherents
to _things as they were_, the Turks, wore the usual dress of Europeans
and Americans throughout, with the single exception of the _fez_, which,
I believe, no adherent of Mahomet will renounce, except with his
religion. Young Charles P---- told me that Count Orloff's sable-lined
_talma_ was of the most unexceptionable Parisian cut.
* * * * *
An agreeable young friend of mine, the Rev. Mr. H., contrives to support
a family (Heaven only knows how!) upon the few hundred dollars a year
that make the usual salary of a country clergyman. He indulges himself,
at rare intervals, in a visit to his fashionable city relatives, by way
of necessary relaxation, and to brush up a little in matters of taste,
literature, etc. Perhaps, too, he thinks it well, occasionally, to
return, with his wife and children, the long visits made every summer by
a pretty fair representation of his numerous family circle at the
pleasant little rectory, where refinement, industry, and the ingenuity
of a practical housekeeper, create a charm often lacking in more
pretentious establishments.
On one of these important occasions, it was decided that the handsome
young rector should avail himself of his city jaunt to purchase a new
suit of clothes, his best clerical coat, notwithstanding the most
careful use and the neatest repairing, being no longer presentable for
ceremonious purposes. (I make no doubt that the compatibility of the
contemplated journey and the new clothes, both in the same year, was
anxiously discussed in family council.)
As soon as possible after his arrival in town, my clerical friend
broached the all-important subject of the tailor, to one of his
brothers, a youth of unquestionable authority in such matters, and
invoked his assistance.
"With all my heart, Will, we'll drop in at my own place, as we go down
this morning; they get everything up there artistically." "And at
artistic prices, I fear," soliloquized the new candidate for the honors
of the cloth, with a slight quaking at heart, as a long-cherished plan
for adding, without her previous knowledge, a shawl to the waning bridal
outfit of his self-sacrificing wife, rose before his mental vision.
"But, I say, Will," inquired his modish brother, of our young clergyman,
in a tone of good-humored banter, as they sauntered down Broadway
together, after breakfast, "where did you buy your new _chapeau_?"
"At A----, before leaving home"----
"Excuse me, my dear fellow, but it's a nondescript! It will never do
with your new suit, allow me to say, frankly."
"But the person of whom I bought it had just returned from New York, and
he assured me it was the latest fashion! I gave him eight dollars for
it, at any rate."
"Preposterous!" ejaculated the man of fashion, in a tone portentous as
that which ushered in the "prodigious" of Dominie Sampson, when
astounded by _his_ discoveries in the mysteries of the toilet. "It first
saw the light in the 'rural districts,' depend on't!"
The quizzical glances with which his companion ever and anon scrutinized
the crowning glory of his neat morning attire, as he had previously
thought it, gradually overpowered the philosophy of my friend,--clergyman
though he was--the admitted Adonis of his class in college, and the
favorite of ladies, old and young. The church's
----"favorites are _but men_.
And who e'er felt the stoic when
First conscious of"----
wearing a "shocking bad hat!" The result was, that the condemned article
was exchanged at a fashionable establishment for one fully meeting the
approbation of the modish critic.
"What! another new hat?" cried the young wife, whose quick woman's eye
at once caught the _je ne sais quoi_--the air of the thing, as her
husband rejoined her later in the day.
The gentleman explained;--"And you thought the other so becoming too,
Belle," he added, in a half-deprecatory tone; "but Chauncey was so
strenuous about it, and I knew he would appeal to you, and that you
would not be satisfied without"----
"But they allowed you really nothing for the other, though it was quite
new, and certainly a nice hat. What a pity, now, that you did not travel
in your old one, though it was a little worse for wear, or even in the
cap you bought to fish in. There was Mr. ---- in the same car with us,
looking anything but _elegant_, I am sure, with the queerest-looking old
'Kossuth,' I believe they are called, on, and the roughest overcoat!"
"But, you know, Belle, dear, such a dress is not considered admissible
for the clergy."
"No! well, whatever is sensible and convenient _should_ be, I am
convinced now, if I was not before."
Our young clergyman, as he turned the still-cherished plan of the new
shawl anxiously in his mind, a "sadder and a wiser" man than before,
determined never again to buy a new dress hat expressly to perform a
journey in, especially when going directly from the "rural districts" to
a large city; besides laying up for future use some other collateral
resolutions and reflections of an equally wise and practical character.
"Why, Belle," said the "superb" Chauncey to his fair sister-in-law,
drawing her little son nearer to him, as he leaned on his mother's lap
after dinner, "this is really a magnificent boy, 'pon-my-word!--you
should take him to 'Bradbrook's' and fit him up! Would you like a velvet
jacket, eh, my fine fellow?"
The curly-headed child pointed his dimpled forefinger towards the pretty
garment he was wearing, and said, timidly, "Pretty new coata, mamma made
for him."
"I believe," responded the young mother, quietly, bending her beaming
eyes upon the little face lovingly upturned to hers, "that Willie will
have to do without a velvet jacket for the present; mamma intended to
get one for him in New York, but"----the sentence was finished mentally
with "papa's second new hat has taken the money." This will reveal the
secretly-cherished plan of the young rector's wife, with which a faint
sketch of a pretty cap to crown the shining curls of her darling, had
dimly mingled, almost unconsciously to herself, until brought out by the
power of that "tide in the affairs of men"--necessity!
* * * * *
Sitting in the same seat in a railroad car with ex-Chief-Justice ----,
than whom there is no more eminent jurist nor finished gentleman in the
land, discoursing earnestly of old times and new, our conversation was
suddenly interrupted, as we stopped to feed our iron steed, by the loud
salutation of a youth who seemed to take more pains than the _law_
requires under such circumstances, to enunciate the name of my
companion. "Pleasant morning, Judge!--if I don't intrude" (a glance at
me, and no introduction by the chief-justice), "is this seat
unoccupied?" And down he sat _vis-a-vis_ to us.
He had the talk pretty much to himself, for a while. By-and-by, our
uninvited guest apologized for his gloves, half-worn fine black kid.
They were "really too bad; must have taken them up by mistake, in the
hurry of getting off," etc.
"I always keep an old pair expressly for these abominably dirty cars,
but, I believe, I have forgotten to put them on this morning," said the
venerable lawyer, in a peculiarly quiet tone, unfolding, as he spoke,
the ample, old-fashioned, travel-worn camlet cloak, beneath which his
arms had hitherto been crossed, and thus revealing his neat, simple
dress, and the warm, clean lining of his outer garment. Taking a
well-worn pair of soft beaver gloves from an inside pocket, the judge,
with an air of peculiar deliberation, drew them upon hands, "small to a
fault," as the novels say, and as white as those myths are supposed to
be, and re-adjusted his arms and cloak with the same deliberation. A
nice observer might note a slight gleam of the well-known smile, whose
expressive sarcasm had so often withstood professional insolence and
ignorance, as the chief justice turned his head, and cursorily surveyed
his fellow-passengers.
"Who is that young man, sir?" I inquired, when we were, soon after,
upon again stopping, relieved of the presence of this jackanapes.
"His name is ----," replied the judge. "A scion of the law, I think
now--a son of the ----, who made a fortune, you may remember, by the
sudden rise of West India molasses, some few years ago (a pause). I
never rate a man by his antecedents, Colonel, but a little modesty is
always suitable and becoming, in _very young persons_," added the
chief-justice, somewhat sententiously.
* * * * *
You will, perhaps, remember the commotion created by the promulgation of
Marcy's edict respecting the dress to be worn on state occasions, by our
representatives abroad.
Our accomplished young countryman, Mr. H. S----, though nominally
Secretary of Legation, was virtually our minister, at St. Cloud, when
this order was published. In simple compliance with his instructions,
the American secretary appeared at a court dinner in the suit of plain
black, prescribed by his government. The premonitions of a revolution
could scarcely have created more consternation among the officials of
the Tuileries, and even the diplomatic dignitaries assembled,
experienced a sensation. The Turkish ambassador was surprised out of the
usually imperturbable stoicism of a devout follower of the mighty
prophet of Moslemdom.
"What are you doing here," he growled, as the young republican arrested
his attention, in language more remarkable for Oriental figurativeness
than for Parisian elegance, "a raven among so many birds of gay
plumage?"
The newspaper writers of the day, commenting upon this, said that the
minister from Venezuela--the most insignificant government represented,
was most bedizened with gold lace, stars, and trumpery of every sort.
These letters, prepared for home perusal, were re-published in the Paris
papers, and of course, met the eyes of all the parties alluded to!
S---- told one of my friends that among the annoyances to which the
whole affair subjected him, was that of being subsequently constantly
thrown in contact with the various personages with whose names his own
had been, without his previous knowledge, unceremoniously, associated.
No doubt, however, his skillful diplomacy carried him as triumphantly
through this difficulty as through others of vital importance.
Dining with this polished young diplomate, at the Tremont in Boston,
where we met soon after his return home, the conversation turned upon
the personal appearance of Louis Napoleon, and from his wire-drawn
moustaches diverged to the subject of beards in general.
"The truth is, Col. Lunettes," said Mr. S----, in French,--which by the
way, he both speaks and writes, _as he does his native tongue_, with
great purity and propriety, and this to our shame be it said, is far
enough from being generally the case with our various officials abroad,
"the truth is, Col. Lunettes, (I detected a just perceptible glance at
my furrowed cheek, which was, however, smooth-shaven as his own) that _a
clean face is getting to be the distinctive mark of a gentleman_!"
* * * * *
"My dear Miss ----," said I to a charming woman, whose cordial smile of
recognition drew me within the magic circle of her influence, at a ball,
where I had been for some little time a 'quiet looker-on,' "will you
pardon the temerity of an old friend in inquiring what induced your
chilling reception of the handsome stranger whom I saw presented to you
with such _empressement_ by our host a little while ago? If you could
have seen the admiration with which he long regarded you at a distance,
'his eye in a fine frenzy rolling,'--as he leaned against the--the
corner of the big fiddle, there, while the music was at supper!--could
you have seen this, as others saw it, and then the look of deep
desperation with which he swallowed a bottle of champagne at a standing,
when he fled from your frowns to the supper-room!--Really, Miss ----, I
have seldom had my sympathies so excited for a stranger"--
By this time her ringing laugh stirred the blood into quicker pulsations
through my time-steeled heart; "Oh, Colonel, Colonel!" cried she, in
tones, mirth-engendering as the silvery call of Dian, goddess of the
dewy morn, (is that poetry, I wonder?) "I see you are just as
delightfully quizzical as during our Alpine journey together. I have
never quite forgiven the Fates for robbing our party of so inimitable a
_compagnon de voyage_, and me of"--"so devout an admirer!" I chimed in:
"and me of so devout an admirer," proceeded the lady, with a quick
spirit-flash in her deep violet eyes, "and when we were just becoming so
well acquainted, too! It was too provoking! Do you remember the
amusement we had from recalling the various characteristic exclamations
of the different members of our party, when the Italian plains burst
upon our view, out-spread before us in the morning sunlight, after that
horrid night in the shepherd's hut?"
"If I recollect, it was your avowed slave, 'gentleman John' as you
called him, who shouted, 'O, ye Gods and little fishes!--nothing bad
about that, by thunder?' That fellow carried the ladies, as he did
everything else, by storm"--
"No, no, Colonel, not _all_ the ladies; but I was going to tell you
about this 'mysterious stranger,' or 'romantic stranger'--what
_sobriquet_ did you give him? Suppose we go nearer the door, it is so
warm here," and she twined an arm that threw Powers into a rapture,[2]
confidingly around the support proffered her by an old soldier, and we
gradually escaped from the crowd (any one of the men would willingly
have stillettoed me, I dare say!) into a cool corner of the hall.
[2] Remind me to tell you about that some other time.
"I am sorry you thought me rude, colonel," she began, a tint, soft as
the shadow of a crimson rose flitting over her expressive face.
I entered a protest.
"I dare say my manner was peculiar," resumed my fair companion, "but I
fear 'no rule of courtly grace to measured mood' will ever 'train' my
_face_; and--the truth is, Colonel, that, though I love and honor my own
countrymen beyond the men of all other lands, I _do_ wish they would
imitate well-bred foreigners in some respects. I hate coxcombs! I
believe every woman does at heart. Now, here is this person, Colonel
C----, I think, if I heard the name?"
"Wherefore _Colonel_, and of what?" thought I, but I only
answered--"Really, I am not able to say."
"Well, at any rate, I identified the man, beyond a peradventure, as the
same individual who sufficed for my entertainment during a little
journey from home to G----, the other day. As papa, in his stately way,
you know, committed me to the care of the conductor, saying that 'Miss
----'s friends would receive her at G----,' I observed (luckily, my
fastidious father _did not_) the broad stare with which a great bearded
creature, at a little distance from us, turned round in his seat and
surveyed us. When I withdrew from the window, from which I had looked to
receive--to say good-bye, again, to papa"--
I would have given--I think I would have given--my Lundy-Lane sword, to
have occasioned the momentary quiver in that musical voice, and the
love-light in that half-averted eye! After a scarce perceptible pause,
the lovely narrator proceeded:
"There was that huge moon-struck face--["_sun-struck_, perhaps?" I
queried, receiving a slight fan-pass for my pains]--such a contrast to
papa's! staring straight at me, still. I busied myself with a book
behind my veil, and presently knew, without looking, that the
_gentleman_ had gradually returned to his former position. Now came my
turn to scrutinize, though the 'game was scarcely worth the powder.'"
"Spoken like the true daughter of a gentleman-sportsman!" I exclaimed,
and this time was rewarded with an irradiating smile.
"Well, such a rolling about of that alderman-like figure, such a
buttoning and unbuttoning! But this was all nothing to his steam-engine
industry in the use of the 'weed.' I turned sick as I observed part of
the shawl of a lady sitting before the creature hanging over near him.
After a while, he sallied forth, at one of the stopping-places, and soon
returned with--(expressive hue!)--_an immense green apple_! It seemed
for a time likely to prove the apple of discord, judging from the hungry
glances cast at it by a long, lank, thinly-clad old man across the car.
But now came the 'tug of war.' It scarce required my woman's wit to
divine the motive that had prompted the tasteful selection of the
alderman's lunch. A glove was pompously drawn off, and--behold! a great
_pate_ of a ring on the smallest, I cannot truthfully say
_little_-finger, set with a huge red cornelian, that looked for all the
world like a cranberry-jam in a setting of puff-paste! As the big apple
slowly diminished under the greedy eyes of the venerable spectator of
this rich Tantalus-feast, my heart melted with pity."
A well-affected look of surprise on the part of her auditor, here
claimed the attention of the fair speaker.
"Don't alarm yourself, Colonel! 'Pity 'tis, 'tis true,' my compassion
was excited _only_ towards the poor finger that, stout as it looked,
must soon be worn to the bone, if often compelled to do duty at the
speed with which it was worked that day. Imagine the poor thing stuck
straight out with that heavy stone _pate_ upon it, while the proprietor
plied his hand from his mouth to the car-window _behind_ him, with the
industrious regularity of a steam ferry-boat, professedly laden with
little bits of apple-skin, but really intended--oh, most flattering
tribute to my discriminating powers!--_to captivate my fancy, through my
eye_!"
When my amusement had somewhat subsided, I said to my fair friend:
"I suppose the doughty alderman finished his repast, like Jack the
Giant-killer, by eating up the famishing old man who had the insolence
to watch him while breakfasting?"
"I am happy to be able to say," replied she, "that the long, lean, lanky
representative of our fallen race, not only escaped being thoroughly
masticated and thrown by little handfuls out of the car-window, but when
Jack the Giant-killer, and almost every one else had gone out of the
car, was presented by a lady with two nice large sandwiches that she
happened not to need."
"And that benevolent lady was"----
A movement among the dancers here crowded several acquaintances into
such close contact with us that we could not avoid overhearing their
conversation.
"Do you know that large man, wearing so much beard, Mr. Jerome?"
"Know him? certainly I do, Miss Blakeman. That's C----, Col. C----, the
rich New York grocer. He is one of the city aldermen--they talk of him
for the legislature--quite a character, I assure you."
"He evidently thinks so himself," rejoined one of the group; "just
notice him in that polka! I heard him telling a lady, a moment ago, that
he had not missed a single set, and wouldn't for anything."
"They say," pursued a lady, "that he is paying his addresses to that
pretty little Miss S----, who was so much admired here, last winter; she
is an orphan, I think, and quite an heiress."
A perceptible shiver ran through the clinging arm that still graced my
own, and as I moved away with my sweet charge, she murmured, in the
musical tongue of the Beautiful Land, as she ever calls Italy, "the
gentle dove for the vulture's mate!"
* * * * *
Will that do for this time, boys? Or do you require that, in imitation
of the little Grecian Hunch-back, a _moral_ shall be appended to each of
his narratives, by your
UNCLE HAL.
P. S.--In accordance with my promise, there follow the admirable
directions and remarks of the elegant and obliging friend referred to
in my previous letter. He will, I trust, permit me thus to tender him,
renewedly, my very grateful acknowledgment of his flattering politeness,
and to express my sense of the important addition made by his kindness
to my unpretending epistles.
* * * * *
"MY DEAR COL. LUNETTES:
"I regard myself as highly complimented that so distinguished a
representative of the _ancien regime_, as yourself, one so entirely
_comme il faut_, as all admit, in matters of taste, should esteem my
opinion, even in regard to minor points of etiquette, as worth his
attention.
"I need scarcely add, dear sir, an assurance of my conviction of the
honor you do me by affording me a place in your remembrance, and that I
make no doubt your profound knowledge of the world, united with your
unusual opportunities for extensive observation--long _un habitue de
belle societe_, in various countries, as you have been--will afford a
rich treat, as well as much instruction, to those who may be favored
with the perusal of your proposed _Letters_. That he may have the honor
to be thus fortunate, is the hope of, dear sir,
"Your very respectful
"And obedient servant,
"---- ----
"BELGRAVIA, _Tuesday Morn.,
"May 6th, '56_."
GENTLEMEN'S DRESS.--The subject now to be treated of, may be divided
into several classes:--_morning, promenade_ or _visiting_, and _evening_
or _ball_ dress; which again may be subdivided into others, such as
_riding-dress_, dress suitable for _bachelors' dinner-parties_, or
_opera_ (when unaccompanied by ladies). Besides these again, we have
dresses suitable for _fishing_, _shooting_, and _yachting_ purposes,
which, however, scarcely call for, or admit of, the display of much
taste, inasmuch as the occupations for which such costumes are designed
partake rather of the nature of healthy exercise than of that quiet and
gentlemanly repose necessary to give full effect to the graces of the
more elaborate "_toilette_." Military, Naval, and Court dresses may also
be considered out of the scope of the remarks in this letter, because
their being made scrupulously in accordance with rigid _Regulation
Rules_, leaves no room for taste, but substitutes the _dicta_ of
official routine.
To commence our exemplifications with a _Wedding-Suit_, which, from the
wearer's approximate connection with the ladies deserves the "_pas_"--it
may be remarked that the time of day in which the ceremony is solemnized
should determine the character of the costume, that is to say, whether
it should be morning or evening. In either case, however, general usage
allows (not to say demands), a more marked style than is generally worn
in morning or evening usual wear. Should the wedding take place in the
_evening_, a very elegant costume is, a dark claret dress-coat, white
ribbed-silk, or _moire antique_, waistcoat, white silk neckcloth, black
trowsers, silk stockings, and shoes. The lining of the sleeves, also, of
white silk, coming to the extreme edge of the cuff, imparts a singularly
light and elegant appearance to the hand and glove. An equally elegant
_Morning Wedding-Dress_ might consist of a rich, deep-brown frock-coat;
waistcoat of black cashmere, with a small violet-colored palm-leaf
figure; neck-tie of silk, combining colors of black and cherry, or brown
and deep blue; trowsers of delicate drab, or stone-color; gloves
primrose, or slate-colored kid.
The usual _Evening-Dress_ is so imperiously insisted on, that it might
be almost classed in the category of _uniforms_, being almost invariably
composed of _black_ coat, vest, and trowsers. Two items, however, in
this costume, admit of disquisition amongst "men who dress," viz., the
_vest_ and the _tie_--both of which may be either white or black,
without any infraction of the laws of _bienseance_. This, therefore,
must be settled by the taste of the wearer, who should remember that
black, having the effect of apparently diminishing a man's size, and
white that of increasing it, it would, therefore, be judicious for a
person of unusual size to tone down his extra bulk by favoring black in
both these garments, while he who is below the average standard could,
if not actually increase his height or size, at least create the
impression of more generous proportions. I, however, must confess a
decided partiality for a _white neck-tie_, at least; because, although
subject to the disadvantage of being _de rigueur_ amongst waiters and
other members of the Yellow Plush Family, it is, nevertheless, always
considered unexceptionable, at any season, or hour, in any rank,
profession, or capacity.
A _Morning Call_ should be made in a _frock-coat_, or at least one in
which this style predominates. It must, however, be constantly borne in
mind that it is quite impossible to furnish even general rules on any
one of these points that shall prove immutable, since not only each
successive year, but every varying season produces decided changes in
the standard established by Taste and Fashion.
_Bachelors' Dinner-parties_ are pleasant, social _reunions_, at which
gentlemen enjoy themselves with more _abandon_ than would, perhaps, be
considered consistent with the quiet and more retired respect due to the
presence of the "_beau sexe_;" and, as a natural consequence, admit of a
more _neglige_ style of costume. Still, however, a certain regard must
be had to the requirements of good society; and as many of these
parties, when they break up, adjourn to the opera, or theatre, where
they are pretty sure to meet ladies of their acquaintance, a costume
half-way between morning and evening is, by tacit agreement, prescribed;
for instance:--a coat of some dark color (generally termed
"_medley-colored_"), cut rounded over the hips; black cap; inner vest,
buttoning rather high in the breast; dark-grey trowsers, and black silk
neckerchief, or ribbed silk scarf.
Instead of giving sketches of particular costumes, it would, perhaps, be
better and tend more to develop the importance of dress, if a few
remarks were made on the general rules which should guide one in
selections for his own wear.
The _four staple colors for men's wear, are black, blue, brown, and
olive_. Other colors, such as drab, grey, mixed, etc., being so far as
the principal garments go, what are termed "fancy colors," should be
very cautiously used.
As was remarked above, _black has the effect of diminishing size_, but
it has another more important effect, which is to test, in the severest
way, the wearer's claims to a _distinguished appearance_. It is a very
high compliment to any man to tell him that black becomes him, and it is
probably owing to this property that black is chosen, _par excellence_,
for _evening_ or _ball dress_. Men, therefore, of average or ordinary
pretensions to stylish contour, should bear this in mind, and, when such
color is not indispensable, should be careful how far they depend on
their own intrinsic dignity.
_Blue_, of almost any shade, becomes a light complexion, besides being
an admirable set-off to black velvet, which can, in almost all cases, be
judiciously used in the collar, in which case, a _lighter shade of
blue_ (also becoming such a complexion) can be worn without _killing_
(as it is technically termed), the darker shade of the coat--the velvet
harmonizing both.
_Brown_ being what is termed a _warm_ color, is eminently adapted for
fall and winter wear--_olive_ and _dark green_, for summer.
When Beau Brummel was asked what constituted a well-dressed man, he
replied, "_Good linen--plenty of it, and country washing_." This,
perhaps, is rather _too_ primitive. The almost equally short opinion of
the French critic is decidedly more comprehensive--"_un homme bien
coiffe, et bien chausse, peut se presenter partout_." Under any
circumstances, however, it may be laid down as immutable, that the
_extremities_ are most important parts, when considered as objects for
dress, and that _a well appointed hat, faultlessly-fitting gloves, and
immaculate boots_, are three essentials to a well-dressed man, without
which the otherwise best constituted dress will appear unfinished.
Besides the necessity for the greatest care required in the selection of
colors, with regard to their harmonizing with each other, and their
general adaptation to the complexion or contour of the wearer, there is
another matter of the first importance, and this is, the _cut_. Of
course, everything should be sacrificed to _perfect ease_, as any
garment which pinches, or incommodes the wearer, will strongly militate
against the easy deportment of even the most graceful, and tend to give
a contracted and constrained appearance. _Every garment, therefore,
should leave the wearer perfectly free and uncontrolled in every
motion_; and, having set out with this proviso, the _artiste_ may
proceed to invest his work with all the minute and seemingly immaterial
graces and touches, which, although scarcely to be remarked, still
impart _an air_ or _character_, which is unmistakable, and is expressed
in the French word _chique_.
_Wadding_, or _stuffing_, should be avoided as much as possible. A
little may be judiciously used to round off the more salient points of
an angular figure, but when it is used for the purpose of creating an
egregiously false impression of superior form, it is simply _snobbish_.
Some one has called hypocrisy "the homage which vice pays to virtue."
_Wadding is the homage which snobbishness pays to symmetry!_
A well-dressed man will never be the first to set a new fashion; he will
allow others to hazard the innovation, and decline the questionable
honor of being the first to advertise a _novelty_. Two lines of Pope (I
believe), admirably illustrate the middle course:--
_"Be not the first by whom the new is tried,
Nor yet the last by whom 'tis set aside."_
Besides which he will find it far easier to become a _critic_ than an
_author_; and as there is sure to be a vast number of men who "greatly
daring" dress, he will merely be at the trouble of discriminating which
is worthy of selection or rejection; he will thus verify the old saw,
that "fools make feasts and wise men eat thereof," and avoid, by means
of his own knowledge of _the becoming_, the solecisms which are pretty
certain to occur in a number of experiments.
TRINCULO.
LETTER III.
MANNER.
MY DEAR NEPHEWS:
In the order of sequence adopted at the commencement of our
correspondence, the subject of _manner_ comes next in succession.
It was the shrewd aphorism of one of the most profound observers of
human nature that "_Manner is something to all, and everything to
some_."
As indicative of character, which it undoubtedly is, to a certain
extent, it is well worthy the attention of all youthful aspirants to the
honors of the world. And though, like every other attribute, it should
bear indubitable murks of individuality, care and attention, before
habit has rendered change and improvement difficult, will enable every
man to acquire that propriety and polish, in this respect, the
advantages of which through life can scarcely be overrated.
It has been somewhat paradoxically said, that the fashionable manner of
the present day is _no manner at all_! which means simply--that the
manners of the best bred people are those that are least obtruded upon
the notice of others,--those most _quiet, natural, and unassuming_.
There is, however, a possibility of carrying this modish manner to such
an extreme as to make it the very height of affectation. If Talleyrand's
favorite axiom admits of some qualification, and _language_ is not
_always_ used to "conceal our ideas," then should _manner_, which is the
natural adjunct that lends additional expressiveness to words, be in a
degree modified by circumstances--be _individualized_.
Every approach to a rude, noisy, boisterous, manner, is reprehensible,
for the obvious reason that it interferes with the comfort, and,
consequently, with the rights of others; but this is at a wide remove
from the ultra-modishness that requires the total suppression of every
manifestation of natural emotion, and apparently, aims to convert beings
influenced by the motives, feelings, and principles that constitute
humanity, into mere moving automata!
In this, as in too many similar matters, Americans are prone to excess.
Because _scenes_ are considered bad _ton_, in good society abroad, and
because the warm-hearted hospitality of olden time sometimes took shape
a little more impressingly and noisily than kindness required, some of
our fashionable imitators of European models move through the world like
resuscitated ghosts, and violate every law of good feeling in an
endeavor to sustain at home a character for modish _nonchalance_! Now,
take it as a rule through life, my young friends, that _all servile
imitation degenerates into caricature_, and let your adoption and
illustration of every part of your system of life be modified by
circumstances, and regulated by good sense and manly independence.
I need scarcely tell you that true politeness is not so much a thing of
forms and ceremonies, as of right feelings and nicety of perception. The
Golden Rule habitually illustrated in word and action, would produce the
most unexceptionable good breeding--politeness so cosmopolitan that it
would be a passport to "good society" everywhere.
One of the most polished and celebrated of American authors has given us
as fine and laconic a definition of politeness as I remember to have met
with--"Self-respect, and a delicate regard for the rights and feelings
of others."
The good breeding of a true gentleman is not an appendage put off and on
at the dictate of caprice, or interest, it is essentially _a part of
himself_--a constituent of his being, as much as his sense of honesty or
honor, and its requirements are no more forgotten or violated than those
of any other essential attribute of manhood. You will all remember Sir
Philip Sidney's immortal action in presenting the cup of water to the
dying soldier. This was a spontaneous result of the habitual
self-possession and self-restraint that form the basis of all true good
breeding. It is one of the most perfect exhibitions on record of the
_moral sublime_; but it was, also, only a legitimate result of the
_instinctive politeness of a Christian gentleman_!
Manner, then, may be regarded as the expression of inherent qualities,
and though it must, necessarily, and should properly, to some extent,
at least, vary with the variations of character, it may readily be
rendered a more correct and effective exponent of existing
characteristics of mind and heart, by judicious and attentive training.
While true good breeding must, from its very nature be, as I have said,
in all persons and under every modification of circumstance
substantially the same, the proper mode of exemplifying it, must, with
equal propriety, be modified by the exercise of practical good sense and
discrimination. Thus, the laws of convention,--which, as I have before
remarked, is but another name for the rules of politeness, established
and adhered to by well-bred people, for mutual convenience--though in
some respects as immutable as those of the Medes and Persians, will
always be adapted, by persons of good sense, to the mutations of
circumstance and the inviolable requisitions of that "higher law," whose
vital principle is "_kindness kindly expressed_!" Having now established
general principles, let us turn to the consideration of practical
details.
There is, perhaps, no better test of good manners afforded by the
intercourse of ordinary life, than that of conduct towards superiors in
age or station, ("Young America" seems loth to admit that he has any
superiors, but we will venture to assume these premises). The
general-in-chief of the Revolutionary Army of America is well known to
have always observed the most punctilious respect towards his _mother_,
in his personal intercourse with her, as well as in every other
relation of life. My word for it, he never spoke of her as the "old
woman;" nor could one of the youthful members of his military family
have alluded, in his hearing, to a parent as the "governor," or the "old
governor," without exciting the disapproving surprise of Washington and
his co-patriots. And yet our young republic has known no more high-bred
and polished men than those of that day,--the stately and elegant
Hancock, even when broken by time and disease, a graceful and
punctilious observer of all the ceremonious courtesies of life; the
courtly Carroll, whose benignant urbanity was the very impersonation of
a long line of old English gentlemen; and the imposing stateliness of
the commander-in-chief, ever observant of the most minute details of
propriety, whether in the familiar intercourse of daily life, or while
conducting the most momentous affairs of his country. But to return from
this unpremeditated digression. Never let youthful levity, or the
example of others, betray you into forgetfulness of the claims of your
parents or elders, to a certain deference. Depend upon it, the
preservation of a just self-respect demands this.
Your historical studies will have furnished you with evidence of the
respect habitually rendered to superiors by those nations of antiquity
most celebrated for advancement in civilization; and you will not have
failed, also, to remark that nothing more surely heralded the decay of
ancient empires than degeneracy in this regard.
Next to the reverence ever due to parents, may be ranked that which
should be rendered to virtuous age, irrespective of station or other
outward attributes. I should deem this instinctive with all right-minded
young persons, did I not so often, in the street, at church, in social
life, in public places generally, observe the manner in which elderly
persons are, apparently, wholly overlooked.
Here, the universally-applicable _law of kindness_ claims regard. Those
of the pilgrims of earth, whose feet are descending the narrowing vale
that leads to the dim obscure unpenetrated by mortal eyes, are easily
pained by even the semblance of indifference or neglect. They are
sensitively alive to every intimation that their places in the busy
arena of active life are already better filled by others; that they are
rather tolerated than essential. Those who are most worthy of regard are
least likely to be insensible to such influences. Remember, then, that
you should never run the race of life so "fast" as to encroach upon the
established claims of your predecessors in the course. Nor would the
most prematurely sage young man be entirely unbenefited, it may be, by
availing himself occasionally of the accumulated experience, erudition,
and knowledge of the world, possessed by many a quiet "old fogy," whose
unassuming manners, modest self-respect, and pure integrity present a
just model to "Young America," albeit, perchance, too old-fashioned to
be deemed worthy of attention!
While the general proposition--that manner is, to a considerable extent
_character in action_, is undoubtedly correct, we occasionally see the
exact converse painfully exemplified. It sometimes occurs that the most
amiable persons labor through life under the disadvantage of a diffident
or awkward manner, which does great injustice to their intrinsic
excellences. And this is but another evidence of the necessity of the
earliest attention to this subject.
Though no one should be discouraged in an endeavor to remedy the defects
arising from neglect, in this respect (and, indeed, it may properly be
considered as affording room for ceaseless advancement, like every other
portion of the earthly education of immortal beings), few persons,
perhaps, ever completely overcome the difficulties arising from
inattention to this important branch of education, while youthful
pliancy renders the formation of habits comparatively easy.
The early acquisition of habits of self-possession and self-control,
will furnish the surest basis for the formation of correct manners. With
this should be united, as far as is practicable, constant association
with well-educated and well-bred persons, there is no friction like this
to produce external polish, nor can the most elaborate rules furnish an
effectual substitute for the ease that practice alone secures.
Lose no opportunity, therefore, for studiously observing the best
_living models_, not for the purpose of attempting an undiscriminating
imitation of even the most perfect, but, as an original and gifted
artist derives advantage from studying works of genius, by the great
masters of art, to avail yourself of the matured knowledge resulting
from experience.
* * * * *
But now for an exemplary anecdote or two:--
"Colonel Lunettes, do you know some gentleman going to U---- in this
train?" inquired my friend ex-Governor T----, extending his hand to me
in the car-house of one of our western cities. "I wish to place a very
pretty young lady under the care of some suitable person for a short
time, until she joins a party of friends."
"Really, my dear sir, I regret that I have just arrived," returned I;
"you tempt me to turn about and go over the ground again."
"Uncle T----, there is H---- B---- just getting out of that car," cried
a young lady, approaching us, with two or three fair companions,
"perhaps he is going on."
At this moment a young man, in a dress that might have been that of the
roughest back-woodsman, approached the group.
He wore a very broad-brimmed, coarse straw hat, capable of serving the
double purpose of umbrella and _chapeau_, his hands were incased in
strong gauntlet-gloves, and he carried a large engineer's field-book
under one arm.
Removing his hat, as he somewhat hesitatingly advanced, and passing his
hand over a beard of several days' growth, glancing downward, at the
same time, upon heavy-soled boots, thickly encrusted with dry mud--
"Ladies," said he, "I am too dirty to come near you; I have been
surveying in the swamps in this neighborhood for several days past,
camping out, and jumped upon the cars a few miles back, bound for my
stationary quarters and--the _blessings of civilization_!" And, with the
color deepening in his sun-burnt face, he bowed to us all, with a grace
that Count d'Orsay could scarcely have exceeded.
The youth was very cordially welcomed by his friends; little Kitty, who
is privileged to say anything, declared she "never saw him look so
handsome;" and, I confess, that even my flinty old heart was favorably
moved towards the young engineer. I admired the good taste that dictated
an explanation of the soiled condition of his clothes (his thick linen
shirt, however, was _clean_); not an absurd apology for not being
_well-dressed_, and I liked his use of the good, significant Saxon word
that most truthfully described his condition.
After an exchange of civilities, turning respectfully to the governor,
he said: "Governor T----, can I be of any service? You seemed to be
looking for some one."
An explanation of the circumstances resulted in the resignation of his
fair charge to the temporary care of this same toil-worn, "dirty" young
engineer, by my friend, who is himself one of the most fastidious and
world-polished of men!
A few days after this trifling adventure, I went, by invitation, to
pass a day with my friend the ex-governor, at his beautiful residence a
little out of the city.
Standing near one of the drawing-room windows, just before dinner, I
observed a gentleman alighting from a carriage, at the entrance of the
mansion. I was struck with his elegant air, as he kissed his hand to
some one who was, like myself, an observer on the occasion.
"There is H---- B----!" exclaimed the joyous voice of pretty Kitty, the
niece of my host, and a little scrutiny, while he was paying his
compliments to the several members of the family, enabled me to
recognize in this graceful stranger the rough-looking youth I had
previously seen at the depot. But what a metamorphosis! He now wore an
entirely modish dinner-dress, exquisitely tasteful in all its
appointments; his coat of the most faultless fit, and boots that
displayed a very small and handsome foot to admirable advantage. I
afterwards noticed, too, that "camping out" in the "swamps" had not,
apparently, impaired the smoothness of the slender fingers and
carefully-cut nails that came under my observation while listening, in
the course of the evening, to the rich voice and guitar accompaniment of
Mr. B----.
"Did Mr. B---- come out in a carriage?" inquired one of the ladies of
the family, in a low tone, of my host, near whom I was standing, when
arrangements were to be made for the return of the guests to town.
"Certainly he did," answered the governor, "Mr. B---- is too much of a
sybarite to heat himself by walking out here to dinner, on such a day as
this."
"And too economical, I have no doubt, judging from his good sense in
other respects," I added, "to spoil a pair of costly dress boots in such
service."
"Mrs. M----, one moment, if you please," said a voice behind us, and
Mrs. M---- (who is the acting mistress of the mansion) took the arm
politely proffered her, and stepped out upon the portico. Presently she
returned--
"Uncle T----," whispered she ("excuse me, Col. Lunettes), John need not
get up our carriage; Mr. B---- has been so polite as to insist upon our
sending the girls home in his, saying that he really prefers to sit
outside, and that the carriage in which he drove out is to be here in a
few minutes."
"He happened to know that John has to be up with the lark, about another
matter," remarked the host, "and"----
"How kind!" returned the lady; "but Mr. B---- does everything so
agreeably that one does not know which to admire most--the charm of his
_manner_, or"----
"The _good breeding_, from which it springs!" exclaimed the governor,
finishing the eulogy.
* * * * *
Attending a lady from the dinner-table at the St. Nicholas, in New York,
she begged me to wait with her for a few minutes, near the passage
conducting to the drawing-rooms, saying, playfully, that she wished to
way-lay a gentleman. "I have been all the morning," she then explained,
"trying to meet a Russian friend of ours, who is certainly staying
here, though we cannot succeed in seeing him. My husband charged me,
before we parted this morning, as he was obliged to go out of town for
the day, with a message for our friend, which he said _must_ be
delivered by me in person. Ah, there he is now!" and she advanced a step
towards an elderly gentleman accompanying a lady.
I released her arm from mine, of course, and retired a little; the other
lady also simultaneously withdrawing. I bowed respectfully to her.
"Have you ever chanced to remark this picture?" inquired the fair
stranger of me, as we stood thus near each other, turning towards the
painting of the patron saint of the Knickerbockers, which graced the
main staircase of the hotel; "it is very appropriately selected."
Nothing could be more unmistakably refined and high-bred than the
bearing of the interlocutor, while we chatted a moment or two longer.
"I beg your pardon, madam, for depriving you of your cavalier; nothing
but necessity could excuse it"--began the lady, who had been talking
earnestly in the meanwhile with the Russian, approaching us. She was at
once relieved from making further explanation.
"Pray don't name it--and allow me to renew my slight acquaintance with
you," offering her hand.
"With pleasure," returned my fair friend, instantly; but she looked a
little puzzled, despite her courtesy.
"I see you do not recollect the weary traveller who was so much obliged
to your politeness in the hotel in Washington, the other night. The only
stranger-lady (turning to her attendant) I have met in this country, who
has rendered me the slightest civility."
All this was, of course, quite unintelligible to me, but later in the
evening I had the honor of being introduced to these strangers, and,
incidentally, received a solution of the mystery.
While a pleasant party with which I had the good fortune to be
associated, was cozily gathered in one of the quiet little drawing-rooms
of the St. Nicholas, the conversation turned upon the difference of
manners in different nations. Let me premise a brief explanation, that
you may the better understand what follows. The Russian gentleman, whom
I had seen in the passage, is Dr. de H----, a distinguished _savant_,
travelling in the service of his imperial master, and the lady whom he
was attending from dinner a Frenchwoman of high birth and breeding. My
fair charge is the wife of an officer of our army, who nearly lost his
life in the late Mexican war, returning home covered alike with wounds
and honors, and with still I don't know how many bullets in his body, as
life-long tokens of his bravery. His heroic young wife, when she learned
that he had landed at New Orleans, as soon after the conclusion of peace
as his condition enabled him to be conveyed to the sea-board and make
the voyage, set out to join him at the South, with an infant of only a
few weeks old, and herself in enfeebled health.--They had been married
but a short time, when Col. V---- was ordered to the seat of war, and
the lady was a belle and a beauty, of scarce nineteen--the cherished
idol of wealth and affection. These persons, and one or two others were,
with myself, seated, as I have said, cozily together for a little talk,
after dinner.
Taking advantage of the temporary absence of Mrs. V----, the
Frenchwoman, turning to Dr. de H----, said: "What a charming person! I
must tell you about my first meeting with her. You know we are just
returned from a little tour at the south of this country. Well, at
Washington, the other evening we have arrived, my husband and I, with my
little daughter, Lorrette, very tired and covered with dust, at the
hotel. A friend had engaged apartments for us, two or three days before,
but we were not conducted to them. They led us into a sort of corridor,
where gentlemen and ladies were walking, in dinner dress, and left us to
stand against the wall for some time. At last Victor told me to be
patient, and he would go and see. I have thought I should fall down with
fatigue and vexation, and poor little Lorrette leaned against me and was
almost quite asleep. At this moment, a lady and gentleman who were
sitting in a little alcove, which was in the corridor, observed us, as I
saw, though I tried to turn myself from all. They came immediately to
us. The gentleman brought a light chair in his hand. 'Madam,' said the
gentleman, 'allow me to offer you a seat; I am surprised that Mr.
Willard has no reception room for travellers.' Before I could thank
them, properly, the lady said, seeing how Lorrette had begun to cry, 'Do
come and sit over there in the little recess; there is a larger chair in
which the little girl can lie down until you can get your rooms. Pray
come'--and all this with such a sweet manner. Seeing that the gentleman
was already looking for another chair to bring to us, I went away with
the lady; saying, however, that I was so sad to come with her in this
dress, and to trouble her. When we were in the little alcove, almost by
ourselves, she placed Lorrette on a little couch, and forced me to sit
on the only good chair, saying that she preferred to stand a little, and
so many other polite, kind words! Then, while the gentleman talked a
little with me, she began to tell Lorrette that her papa would soon take
her to a nice supper, and made her look, when she was no longer so
tired, at some nice drawings of colored birds that her friend was
showing her when they came to carry us to them."
You must picture to yourselves the animated gestures, the expressive
tones, and the slight Gallic accent that gave double significance to
this little sketch, to form a correct idea of the pleasing effect
produced upon us all by the narration. Observing Mrs. V---- re-entering
the room, the charming Frenchwoman only added, enthusiastically: "Really
these were persons so agreeable, that I could not forget them; as I have
told you to-day, Dr. de H----, it is the only stranger American lady who
has ever been polite in our journey."
"Are the ladies of our country, then, so remiss in politeness?" said a
young American lady present, in a deprecatory tone.
"I beg your pardon, madam," returned the foreigner, "the Americans are
the most kind-hearted people in the world, but _they do not say it_! it
is the--_manner_!"
"I shall really begin to think," said Mrs. V----, "that there is some
other cause than my being a brunette for my being so often taken for a
foreigner. I am often asked whether I am from New Orleans, or of French
extraction."
"I am not surprised," exclaimed Dr. de H----, "my friend Sir C----
G----, who saw you this morning, asked me afterwards what country was
you of?"
"Why, how was that?"
"He told me he had just given a servant, that stupid old man in the
hall, the house-porter, I believe you call him, a card, to take to some
room, when you met him, and directed him to go to the office with a
message; but, observing the card in his hand, and that a gentleman stood
there, you immediately told him to go first with the card and you would
wait for him."
Here the silvery laugh of Mrs. V---- interrupted the Russian. "Excuse
me," said she, "I remember it!--that old porter, who always makes a
mistake, if it is possible, has so often annoyed me, that this time I
was determined, as it was a person I much wished to see, not to lose my
visitor through him, so, after waiting some time in one of these rooms,
I went to him to inquire, and sent him to the office, when I found that
my poor friend was waiting _there_, while I waited _here_. Observing a
gentleman who seemed already to have required his services, I bade him
go first for him, of course. '_Apres vous, madame, je vous prie_,'[3]
said he, with the most courtly air;--so that was Sir C---- G----?"
[3] After you are served, madam, I beg.
"Yes, madam," answered the _savant_, "but it was _your_ air that was
remarkable! Sir C---- told me that while you both were waiting there you
addressed some polite remark to him, _pour passer le temps_, and that he
thought you were not an American lady, _because you spoke to him_!"
"Speaking of _not speaking_," said I, when the general amusement had
abated, "reminds me of an amusing little scene that I once witnessed in
the public parlor of a New England tavern, where I was compelled to wait
several hours for a stage-coach. Presently there entered a bustling,
sprightly-looking little personage, who, after frisking about the room,
apparently upon a tour of inspection, finally settled herself very
comfortably in the large cushioned rocking-chair--the only one in the
room--and was soon, as I had no reason to doubt, sound asleep. It was
not long, however, before a noise of some one entering aroused her, and
a tall, gaunt old Yankee woman, hung round with countless bags,
bonnet-boxes, and nondescript appendages of various sizes and kinds,
presented herself to our vision. After slowly relieving herself of the
numberless incumbrances that impeded her progress in life, she turned to
a young man who accompanied her, and said, in a tone so peculiarly
shrill, that it might have been mistaken, at this day, for a railroad
whistle:
"'Now, Jonathan, don't let no grass grow under your feet while you go
for them tooth-ache drops; I am a'mos' crazy with pain!' laying a hand
upon the affected spot as she spoke; 'and here,' she called out, as the
door was closing upon her messenger, 'just get my box filled at the same
time!' diving, with her disengaged hand, into the unknown depths of,
seemingly, the most capacious of pockets, and bringing to light a
shining black box, of sufficient size to hold all the jewels of a modern
belle, 'I thought I brought along my snuff-bladder, but I don't know
where I put it, my head is so stirred up.'
"By this time the little woman in the rocking-chair was fairly aroused,
and rising, she courteously offered her seat to the stranger, her accent
at once betraying her claim to be ranked with the politest of nations (a
bow, on my part, to the fair foreigner in the group). With a prolonged
stare, the old woman coolly ensconced herself in the vacated seat,
making not the slightest acknowledgment of the civility she had
received. Presently, she began to groan, rocking herself furiously at
the same time. The former occupant of the stuffed chair, who had retired
to a window, and perched herself in one of a long row of high wooden
seats, hurried to the sufferer. 'I fear, madame,' said she, 'that you
suffare ver' much:--vat can I do for you?' The representative of
Yankeedom might have been a wooden clock-case for all the response she
made to this amiable inquiry, unless her rocking more furiously than
ever might be construed into a reply.
"The little Frenchwoman, apparently wholly unable to class so anomalous
a specimen of humanity, cautiously retreated.
"Before I was summoned away, the tooth-ache drops and the snuff together
(both administered in large doses!) seemed to have gradually produced
the effect of oil poured upon troubled waters.
"The sprightly Frenchwoman again ventured upon the theatre of action.
"'You find yourself now much improved, madame?' she asked, with
considerable vivacity. A very slight nod was the only answer.
"'And you feel dis _fauteuil_, really ver' _com-for-ta-ble_?' pursued
the little woman, with augmented energy of voice. Another nod was just
discernable.
"No intonation of mine can do justice to the very ecstasy of impatience
with which the pertinacious questioner now actually _screamed_ out:
"'_Bien_, madame, _vil you say so_, if you please!'"
* * * * *
I meant to repeat an impressive little story told us by my lovely
friend, Mrs. V----, before our merry little party separated that night;
but, even were this letter not already too "long drawn out," I find my
head in very much the condition of that of the old Yankee woman, whom, I
trust, I have immortalized, and will, therefore, reserve it for another
time, hoping that you will pay me the compliment to recollect my
description of my _dramatis personae_ until then.
* * * * *
Meanwhile, here is one other anecdote for you:
During my usual morning ride, one day lately, I stopped to breathe my
horse on the top of a little hill, in the suburbs of one of the villages
upon the banks of the Hudson. While enjoying the beauty of the fine
landscape before me, my horse, all on a sudden, started violently. I
presently discovered the cause of his fright. Some little rascals were
at play in the unenclosed yard of an old building near, and one of them
was throwing lumps of earth, pieces of broken crockery, rusty
sheet-iron, etc., upon the plank-walk in front. As I turned my head
towards them, a little urchin who was perched upon a knob of the root of
a tree, with his hands upon his knees, cried out, energetically: "There
now, look-a there! Ain't you a pretty fellow? dirtying up the walk so,
when people are going by." His little freckled face expressed real
concern, as he looked fixedly up the walk. Glancing in the same
direction, I saw an elegantly-dressed lady carefully gathering up her
dress, preparatory to encountering the sharp obstacles in her path, and
at once understood the cause of the reproof I had overheard, and which I
assure you, I have transcribed _verbatim_, though the phrase "pretty
fellow" may seem incongruous in the mouth of a dirty little Irish boy. I
only hope the lady--whose gentle smile indicated that she too understood
the scene--was compensated for being so incommoded, by discerning the
_inbred politeness_ of her little champion.
* * * * *
As it is your desire that I should deal rather with practical realities
than with generalities or theories, let us come in my next, without
preliminaries, to plain suggestions, presented somewhat in detail, with
the usual simplicity and frankness of that "plain, blunt man,"
Your affectionate uncle
HAL.
LETTER IV.
MANNER CONTINUED:--PRACTICAL DIRECTIONS.
MY DEAR NEPHEWS:
If I rightly remember, I concluded my last letter to my young
correspondents with a promise of attempting in my next, some _practical
directions_ in regard to Manner. I will, then, commence, at once
premising only in the impressive words of the immortal senator, who just
at present holds so large a space in the world's eye: "In now opening
this great matter, I am not insensible to the austere demands of the
occasion."
Important as Manner undoubtedly is, in every relation of life, the
cultivation of an unexceptionable deportment _at home_, may, perhaps, be
regarded as of primary consequence, in securing the happiness at which
all aim, though by means,
----"variable as the shade,
By the light, quivering aspen made."
I think I have already incidentally alluded to the bad taste, to give it
no severer name, so commonly exhibited by young persons in this
country, in their conduct towards _parents_. Let nothing tempt _you_, I
pray you, into habits so discreditable. Manhood is never depreciated by
any true estimate, when yielding tribute to the claims of age.--Towards
your _father_ preserve always a deferential manner, mingled with a
certain frankness, indicating that thorough confidence, that entire
understanding of each other, which is the best guarantee of good sense
in both, and of inestimable value to every young man, blessed with a
right-minded parent. Accept the advice dictated by experience with
respect, receive even reproof without impatience of manner, and hasten
to prove afterwards, that you cherish no resentful remembrance of what
may even have seemed to you too great severity, or too manifest an
assumption of authority. Heed the counsel of an old man, who "through
the loop-holes of retreat" looks calmly on the busy tide of life rolling
forever onward, and let the sod that closes over the heart that throbs
no more even with affection and anxiety for you, leave for you only the
pain of parting--not the haunting demon of _remorse_. Allow no false
pride, no constitutional obstinacy, to interfere with the better
impulses of your nature, in your intercourse with your father, or to
interrupt for an hour the manly trust that should be between you. And in
the inner temple of _home_, as well as when the world looks on, render
him reverence due.
There should be mingled with the habitual deference and attention that
marks your manner to your _mother_, the indescribable tenderness and
rendering back of care and watchfulness that betokens remembrance of
her love in earlier days. No other woman should ever induce you to
forget this truest, most disinterested friend, nor should your manner
ever indicate even momentary indifference to her wishes or her
affection. Permit me again to refer you to the example of _our country's
pride_ in this regard. You will all remember his marked attention,
through life, to his only parent, and the fact that his first appearance
in public, on a festive occasion, after the triumph of Yorkstown, was in
attendance upon his mother at the ball given at Fredericksburgh, in
celebration of that event. A fair friend of mine, who has written the
most enthusiastically-appreciative description of this memorable scene
that I remember to have read, characterizes the manner of Washington as
illustrating the _moral sublime_, to a degree that filled all beholders
with admiration. But no one needs the examples of history, or the
promptings of friendship, to convince him of a duty to which the
impulses of nature unmistakably direct him: all that I, for a moment,
suppose you require, is to be reminded that no thoughtlessness should
permit your _manner_ to do injustice to your feelings, in this sacred
relation of life.
The familiarity of domestic intercourse should never degenerate into a
rude disregard for the restraints imposed by refinement, nor an
unfeeling indifference to the feelings of others. With brothers and
sisters even, the sense of equality should be tempered by habitual
self-restraint and courtesy. "No man is great to his _valet de
chambre_"--no man grows, by the superior gifts of nature, or by the
power of circumstance, beyond the genial familiarity of domestic
intercourse. You may be older and wiser than your _brothers_, but no
prerogatives of birthright, of education, or of intellect can excuse
assumption, or make amends for the rupture of the natural tie that is
best strengthened by affectionate consideration and respect.
To his _sisters_, every man owes a peculiar obligation arising from the
claim nature gives them to his protection, as well as to his love and
sympathy. Nor is this relative claim wholly abrogated even by their
being older than he. The attributes and the admitted rights of our sex
give even younger brothers the privilege,--and such every well
constituted man will consider it,--of assuming towards such relations
the position of a friend, confidant and guardian. And the manner of _a
gentleman_ will always indicate, unmistakably, the delicacy, the
consideration and the respect he considers due to them. I will not
assume the possibility of your being indifferent to their love and
interest; suffice it to say, that both will be best deserved and
preserved by a careful admingling of the observances of politeness
practised towards other women, with the playful freedom sanctioned by
consanguinity. The world will give you no substitutes for the friends
nature provides--they are bound to you by all ties unitedly. Be ever
mindful that no rude touch of yours, sunders or even weakens the
tenderest chords of the heart.
Since
----"modest the manners by Nature bestowed
On Nature's most exquisite child,"
a man's conduct towards his _wife_ should always indicate respect as
well as politeness. No rude familiarity should outrage the delicacy that
veils femininity, no outward indifference or neglect betoken disregard
of the sacred claims of the woman, whom, next to his mother, every man
is bound in honor, to distinguish beyond all others, by courteous
observance. If you consider the affection you doubtless took some pains,
originally, to win, worth preserving, if you think it of any moment to
retain the attributes ascribed to you by the object of that affection,
while you made the endeavor to do full justice to yourself in the eyes
of your _mistress_,[4] would it be wise to prefer no further claims to
such characteristics by your manner to your _wife_? I have never
forgotten the impression made upon me in youth by an exquisite letter in
one of Addison's Spectators, purporting to be written by an old woman,
in regard, if I remember, to the very point we are now discussing. It
contains, as inclosed to the Solon of polite laws in that day, a note
represented to have been written to her, by the husband of the lady,
from a London coffee-house, upon some emergency, which is the very
embodiment of gentle courtesy, and concluding with a respectful apology
for the coarse paper, and other unseemly appliances of the
communication. "Could you see the withered hand that indites this, dear
Mr. Spectator," says the correspondent of Addison, "you would be still
more impressed by the gallantry that remains thus unimpaired by time,"
or words to that effect. I have not the original to transcribe from, and
the copy in my _mental tablets_ is a little dimmed by the wear of years.
But though the exact phraseology of the number I allude to is
indistinct, I repeat that I have a thousand times recalled the substance
with the same pure pleasure and admiration. I have not half done justice
to it, and, indeed, I am almost ashamed to have so poorly sketched a
picture whose beauty you may best appreciate by personal inspection. No
tyro should attempt a copy of the production of an _old
master_--especially when the mental magician fails to place the original
before his mind's eye,
"Pictured fair, in memory's mystic glass."
But if you do not despise such old-fashioned literature as the writings
of the English classic authors--and certainly, without undue prejudice
in their favor, I may venture, I think, to say, that a knowledge of the
writings of such men as Johnson, Goldsmith, Burke, and Addison, should
make part of the education of every gentleman--if you will look up this
elegant essay, and read it for yourselves, I can safely promise you
ample remuneration for your trouble.
[4] I shall take the liberty to use the word "_mistress_," throughout
these letters, in the sense appropriated to it by Addison, Johnson, and
other English classic authors. _Sweetheart_ is too old-fashioned.
"_Lady-love_" suits the style of my fashionable nieces, better than
mine. _Mistress_ is an authorized Saxon word, of well-defined meaning,
though, like some others, perverted to a bad use, at times.
Do not degrade your own ideal by a too minute scrutiny, nor forget that
the shrine of the _Lares_, though it may be approached with the simplest
offerings, is desecrated by even a momentary forgetfulness that its
votaries should be
"_Content to dwell in decencies, forever!_"
The chosen friend of your life, the presiding genius of your home, the
mother of your children, then, not only claims the high place of trust
and confidence, but _the proof afforded by manner_ of the existence and
dominance of these sentiments.
Many men, with the kindest feelings and the clearest perceptions of
duty, are, from mere inadvertency, unobservant of the fact that they
habitually give pain to those dependent on them for consideration, by
neglecting those _graces of manner_ that lend a charm to the most
trifling actions. Remember, while you are forming habits, in this
respect, how sensitively constituted are the gentler sex, how easily
pained, how easily pleased. The more discriminating and affectionate is
woman, the more readily is she wounded. Like a harp of a thousand
strings, her nature, if rudely approached, is jarred responsively, while
the gentlest touch elicits an harmonious thrill. The delightful
_abandon_ that constitutes one of the most exquisite enjoyments of home,
is not augmented, for a man of true refinement, by a total disregard of
ceremony and self-restraint. Selfishness, ill-humor, and a spirit of
petty tyranny, rest assured, though their manifestation be confined to
home intercourse, and borne in silence there, will gradually undermine
character and essentially diminish domestic happiness.
Earnestly, therefore, do I admonish my youthful relatives to cultivate a
careful observance of the requisitions of what has been well designated
as "_domestic politeness_." Confer favors with ready cheerfulness, or,
if necessary, refuse them with an expression of regret, or a polite
explanation. Never repel solicitations, much less caresses, with
impatience, nor allow your bearing to indicate the reluctant discharge
of a duty that should also be a pleasure. A smile, an intonation of
affection, a glance of appreciation or acknowledgment--small artillery
all, I grant, my boys, but they will suffice to make a _feu-de-joie_ in
a loving heart, that will, each and every one of them, cause you to be
followed in the thorny path of daily life by a blessing that will not
harm you; they will secure you a welcome, when, world-worn, you shall
'homeward plod your weary way,' worth all the gold you have gathered,
and well rewarding all the toil you have encountered.
I will only add, in this connection, that manhood is ennobled by the
habitual exercise of delicate forbearance towards _helplessness_ and
_dependence_, and that a high test of character is the right _use of
power_. Those, then, whom nature teaches to look to you for affection,
as well as for care and protection--your mother, wife, sisters--should
invariably derive from your _manner_ evidence of the steadfastness of
your interest and regard for them.
Like most of the aphorisms of the ancients for subtle wisdom, is the
saying, "We should reverence the presence of children." Fresh from the
creating hand of Deity, they are committed to us. While yet unstained by
the pollutions of the world, should we not render a certain homage to
their pristine purity and innocence? Should we not hesitate by
exhibitions of such qualities of our nature as are happily still dormant
in them, to force them into precocious development? The silent _teaching
of example_ tells most effectively upon the young for the reason that
they are insensibly forming in imitation of the models before them,
without the disadvantages of previous habit, or of diminished
impressibility. It is no light sin, then, either in our manner towards
them, or towards others in their presence, to obtrude a false standard
of propriety upon their notice. If manner be, as we have assumed, active
manifestation of character, the ductile minds of these nice observers
and ceaseless imitators must be indeed seriously under its influences.
That careful study of individual peculiarities which paternal duty
imperatively demands, will readily suggest the proper modification of
manner demanded by each different child in a household. It is said that
children are never mistaken judges of character. Certain it is, at
least, that they instinctively discern their true friends, and that of
the "Kingdom of Heaven," as by divine assertion they are--the _Law of
Love_, attempered in its administration by practical good sense, is the
most effective influence that can be brought to bear upon them. Permit
me to recall to your remembrance the _tenderness_ that distinguished the
manner of Christ towards little children.
Pre-supposing as I have done, thus far in this letter, and as I shall
continue to do, throughout our correspondence, that you regard moral
obligation as the grand incentive to the correct discipline even of the
outer man, arrogating to myself only the office of the lapidary,--that
of endeavoring to polish, not create, the priceless jewel of
_principle_, I shall make no apology for the suggestion, that manner
should not be regarded as beneath the attention of a Christian
gentleman, in his intercourse with such inmates of his household as may
from any circumstance be peculiarly sensitive to indications of
negligent observance. The _aged_, the _infirm_, the _insignificant_, the
_dependent_; all, in short, who are particularly afflicted "in mind,
body, or estate," are suitable recipients of the most expressive
courtesies of manner.
Perhaps no single phase of _manner at home_ more correctly illustrates
nice mental and moral perceptions than the treatment of _servants_ and
_inferiors_ generally. One may be just to the primary obligations
evolved by this relation to others, and yet always receive the service
of fear rather than of affection. All needless assumption of authority
or superiority, in connection with this position, is indicative of
inherent vulgarity, and is at as great a remove from a true standard as
is undue familiarity. Never to manifest pleasure even by a smile, never
to make an acknowledgment in words, of the kindly offices that money
cannot adequately reward, may be very grand and stately, but such
sublime elevation above one's fellow-creatures raises the heart to
rather an Alpine attitude--to a height at which the _milk of human
kindness_ even, may congeal!
Always accept voluntary service with the slight acknowledgment that
suffices to indicate your consciousness of it, nor deem it unworthy of
one pilgrim upon the great highway of life to cheer another upon whom
the toil and burden falls heaviest, by a smile or a word of
encouragement. The language of request is, as a rule, in better taste
than that of command, and, in most instances, elicits more ready, as
well as cheerful obedience. Scott makes Queen Elizabeth say, on a
momentous occasion, "Sussex, I entreat; Leicester, I command!" "But,"
adds the author, "the entreaty sounded like a command, and the command
was uttered in a tone of entreaty." Can you make only a lesson in
elocution out of this; or will it also illustrate our present theme?
Few persons who have not had their attention called to this subject,
have any just conception of the real benefits that may be conferred upon
those beneath us in station by a _pleasant word uttered in a pleasant
tone_. Like animals and young children, uneducated persons are
peculiarly susceptible to all external influences. They are easily
amused, easily gratified--shall I add, easily _satisfied_, mentally?
The comparatively vacant mind readily admits an impression from without;
hence, he who "whistles for want of thought," will whistle more cheerily
for the introduction of an agreeable remembrance, into the unfurnished
"chambers of imagery," and the humble plodder who relieves us of a
portion of the dead weight that oppresses humanity, will go on his way
rejoicing; ofttimes for many a weary mile, impelled by a single word of
encouragement from his superior officer in the "Grand Army" of life. But
I hear you say, "Uncle Hal grows military--'the ruling passion strong'
even in letter-writing. Like the dying Napoleon, his last words will be
'_Tete d'Armee!_'"--Well, well, boys! pardon an old man's
diffuseness!--his twilight dullness!
There are occasions when to _talk_ to servants and other employes, make
part of a humane bearing towards them. To converse with them in relation
to _their_ affairs rather than our own, is the wiser course, and to
mingle a little appropriate instruction withal, may not be amiss.
Remember, too, how easily undisciplined persons are frightened by an
imperious, or otherwise injudicious, manner on the part of their
superiors, out of the self-possession essential to their comprehension
of our wants and language.
* * * * *
I believe even the American author who has long concentrated his mental
energies in elaborating the literary apotheosis of _Napoleon le Grand_,
has not ascribed to his idol excessive _refinement of manner_. His
attempts at playfulness always degenerated into buffoonery, and his
habitual bearing towards women, in whatever relation they stood to him,
was unmistakable evidence of his utter want of nicety of perception on
this point.
Holding a reception, on one occasion, in a gallery of the Tuileries for
his relatives, his mother was present, with others of his family. The
emperor proffered his hand to each in turn to kiss. Last of all, his
venerable parent approached him. As before, he proffered his hand. With
an air worthy of the severe dignity of a matron of early Grecian days,
"Madame Mere" waved it aside, and, extending her own, said, "You are the
king, the emperor, of all the rest, but you are _my son_!" Would a man
imbued with
"The fair humanities of old religion"
have needed such a rebuke, from such a source, think you?
Bonaparte was quite as stringent in his enforcement of court rules,
in regard to dress and all matters of detail, as Louis XIV.
himself, and often quite as absurd as the "_Grand Monarque_" in
his requisitions.--Abruptly approaching a high-born lady of the old
_regime_, one of the members of Josephine's household, who from illness
(and, perhaps, disgust commingled) had disobeyed an edict commanding
_full dress_ at an early hour on a particular morning, as she leaned
against a window in this same gallery of the Tuileries, the First Consul
contemptuously kicked aside her train, at the same time addressing the
wearer in an outburst of coarse vituperation.
Madame Junot records a characteristic illustration of Napoleon's unmanly
disregard of the constitutional timidity of his first wife, as well as
of his manner towards her in general.
As they were about to cross a turbulent stream upon an insecure-looking
bridge, in a carriage, the Empress expressed a wish to alight. Napoleon
forcibly interfered, but permitted the fair narrator of the incident,
who was in the carriage with them, to do so, upon her informing him with
the _naivete_ of a true French-woman, that there was a special reason
for her avoiding a fright! Josephine wept in helpless terror, even when
the ordeal was safely passed. By-and-by, the whole _cortege_ stopped,
and every one alighted; the imperial tyrant rudely seizing the empress
by the arm, dragged her towards the destination of the party, in a
neighboring wood, saying, as he urged her forward: "You look ugly when
you cry!"
One of Napoleon's biographers has said of him that many passages in his
letters to Josephine were such as no decent Englishman would address to
his 'lady light o' love,' and it is well known that his earliest
intercourse with the proud daughter of the House of Hapsburg--the
shrinking representative of the hereditary refinement of a long line of
high-bred women--was marked by the merest brutality. It was left to a
citizen of our Republic to discover, in the year of our Lord one
thousand, eight hundred and fifty-five, that this man was the
"_Washington of France!_" and to communicate the marvellous fact to the
present occupant of the imperial throne of the Great Captain--who is, by
the way, _the grandson of the repudiated Josephine_!
* * * * *
Steaming along the Ohio, some years ago, I had the good-fortune to fall
in with the most agreeable companions, a father and son, Kentuckians, of
education and good-breeding. The father had won high public honors in
his native State, and the son was just entering upon a career demanding
the full exercise of his fine natural gifts. I was particularly
attracted by the cordial confidence and affection these gentlemen
manifested towards each other, and by the manly deference rendered by
the youth to his venerable sire.
A storm drove us all into the cabin, in the evening, and, while the
elder of my two new friends and I pursued a quiet conversation in one
part of the room, his son joined a group of young men at some distance
from us. Gradually the mirth of those youngsters became so roisterous as
to disturb our talk. Hot and hotter waged their sport, loud and louder
grew their laughter, until our voices were fairly drowned, at intervals.
More than once, I saw the punctilious gentleman of the old school glance
towards the merry party, of which, by the way, his son was one of the
least boisterous. At length he spoke, and his clear, calm voice rang
like a trumpet-note through the apartment:
"Frederick!"--there was an instant lull in the storm, and the faces of
each of the group turned to us--"make a little less noise, if you
please."
The youth rose immediately and advanced towards us: "Gentlemen," said
he, with a heightened color and a respectful bow, "I beg your pardon! I
really was not aware of being so rude."
I said something about the very natural buoyancy of youthful spirits;
but I did _not_ say that this little scene had the effect upon me that
might be produced by unexpectedly meeting, in the log-hut of a
back-woodsman, with a painting by an old master, representing some fine
incident of classical or chivalrous history--as, for instance, the
youthful Roman restoring the beautiful virgin prisoner to her friends
with the words, "far be it from Scipio to purchase pleasure at the
expense of virtue!"
My pleasure in observing the intercourse of these amiable relatives in
some degree prepared me for the enjoyment in store for the favored
guest, who, at the earnest instance of both father and son, a few days
afterwards, turned aside in his journey to seek them, _at home_. It was
a scene worthy the taste and the pen of Washington Irving himself, that
quaint-looking old family mansion,--in the internal arrangements of
which there was just enough of modern comfort and adornment to typify
the softened conservatism of the host,--and the family group that
welcomed the stranger, with almost patriarchal simplicity and
hospitality. Really it was a strange episode in busy American life. My
venerable friend sat, indeed, "under the shadow of his own vine and
fig-tree, with none to make him afraid," reaping the legitimate reward
of an honorable, well-spent life, and beside him the friend who had kept
her place through the heat and burden of the day, and now shared the
serene repose of the evening of his life. What placid beauty still
lingered in that matron face, what "dignity and love" marked every
action! And the fair daughters of the house, who, like Desdemona, "ever
and anon would come again and gather up our discourse," in the intervals
of household duty, or social obligation--they seemed to vie with each
other and with their brother in every thoughtful and graceful observance
towards their parents and towards me, and the noble boy--for he really
was scarcely more, even reckoned by the estimate of this "fast"
age--unspoiled by the dangerous prerogatives of an only son, manifestly
regarded the bright young band of which he still made one, with the
mingled tenderness and pride that would ever shield them from
"The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune."
These all surrounded my venerable host and hostess, as they gently and
calmly turned their feet towards the downward path of life, with
intertwining hearts and hands--like a garland of roses enwreathing
time-worn twin-trees--ever on the watch to lighten each burden they
would fain have wholly assumed, and with loving care striving to put far
off for them the evil day when the "grasshopper shall be a burden."
But I essay a vain task when I would picture such a scene for you, my
friends. If I may hope that I have made _a study_, from which you will
catch a passing suggestion for future use, in the limning of your own
life-portraits, it is well.
* * * * *
Chancellor K----, who was my life-long friend, retained, even in the
latest years of his lengthened life, an almost youthful sprightliness of
feeling and manner. His son, himself a learned and distinguished son of
the law, thought no duty more imperative, even in the prime of his
manhood and in mid career in his honorable profession, than that of
devotion to his father, in his declining years. He fixed his residence
near, or with, his venerable parent, and, like the son of ancient Priam,
long sustained the failing steps of age. Few things have impressed me
more favorably, in my intercourse with the world, than this noble
self-sacrifice.
No one unacquainted with my vivacious friend can appreciate the full
expressiveness of his characteristic remark to me, on an occasion when
his son happened to be the theme of conversation between us. "_I like
that young man amazingly!_" said the chancellor.
* * * * *
I still remember the impression made on me, when a boy, by meeting, in
the streets of my native city, a stalwart young sailor, arrayed in
holiday dress, and walking with his mother, a little, withered old
woman, in a decent black dress, hanging upon his arm. How often that
powerful form, the impersonation of youth, health, and physical
activity, has risen up before my mind's eye, in contrast with the
little, tremulous figure he supported with such watchful care, and upon
which such protecting tenderness breathed from every feature of his
honest, weather-embrowned face.
* * * * *
Bob and Charley grew side by side, like two fine young saplings in a
wood, for some years. After awhile, however, the brothers were
separated. Bob went to a large city, became a merchant, grew rich, lived
in a fine house, was a Bank Director, and an Alderman. His younger
brother, pursuing a more modest, but equally manly and elevated career,
seldom met Bob during some years, and then only briefly at their
father's house, when there was a family gathering at Thanksgiving, or on
some other similar occasion.
Once, when I chanced to see these young men together, thus, I remarked
that, while the sisters of each clung round the neck of the unassuming,
but true-hearted, right-minded Charley, at his coming, and lost no
opportunity of being with him, the repellant manner of the elder brother
held all more or less aloof, though none failed in polite observance
towards him. Egotistical and pompous, he seemed to regard those about
him as belonging to an inferior race. As his brother and I sat talking
together near a table upon which were refreshments, he actually had the
rudeness to reach between us for a glass, without the slightest word or
token of apology, with his arm so near to his brother's face as almost
to touch it! There was more of shame than indignation expressed in that
fine, ingenuous countenance when it again met my unobstructed gaze, and
I thought I detected a slight tremor in the sentence he uttered next in
the order of our conversation.
Before my visit that day was at an end, I found myself exceedingly
embarrassed as an unwilling auditor of a political discussion between
Bob and his father, which grew, at length, into an angry dispute, little
creditable to, at least, the younger of the two word-combatants.
As I stood in the hall that night, awaiting my carriage, I saw Charley
advance to the door of the library, opening near, and knock lightly. The
voice of his aged father bade him enter. Opening the door, the young
man, taking his hat quite off, and bowing almost reverentially, said
only, "I bid you good night, sir," and quietly closed it again. When
they turned towards me, there was almost a woman's softness in eyes that
would have looked undimmed upon the fiercest foe or the deadliest
peril.--Think you the Recording Angel flew up to Heaven's high Chancery
with a testimony of that day's deeds and words?
Once, after this, Charley had occasion to visit the city where Bob
resided. Breakfast over, at his hotel, he sallied forth to call on Bob,
at his own house, and attend, subsequently, to other matters.
He was shown into an elegant drawing-room, where the master of the
mansion sat reading a newspaper. Without rising, he offered his hand,
coldly, and before inviting his visitor to sit, took occasion to say
that his wife's having an engagement to spend the day out of town would
prevent his inviting his brother to dine!
As Charley descended the steps of his brother's stately mansion, at the
termination of his brief call that day, he silently registered a vow
never again to cross his threshold, unless impelled by imperative duty.
And yet Bob is not only a rich merchant, an Alderman, and a Bank
Director, but a _man of fashion_!
* * * * *
One of the most discriminating and truthful delineators of life and
manners whom we boast among our native authors, prominent among the
characteristic traits he ascribes to an old English gentleman, of whom
he gives us an exquisite portraiture, is that of such considerate
kindness towards an old servant as to make him endure his peevishness
and obstinacy with good humor, and affect to consult and agree with
him, until he gains an important practical point with "time-honored
age."
* * * * *
Illustrative of our subject is one of the anecdotes recorded of the poet
Rogers, in his recently published life:
"Mr. Rogers," said the body-servant, who had long attended him in his
helpless years, "_we_ are invited to dine with Miss Coutts." The
italicizing is mine. Is it not suggestive?
You remember the rest of the anecdote; Rogers had the habit, during the
latter years of his life, of writing, when able to use his pen, notes to
be dated and directed as occasion required, in this established form
"Pity me, I am engaged." So, on this occasion, the careful attendant
added: "The _pity-me's_ are all gone!"
* * * * *
Weather-bound during the long, cold winter of 18--, by a protracted
snow-storm and a severe cold, in the house of an old friend, I left my
comfortable private quarters one morning for a little walk up and down
the corridor into which my own apartment and those of the family opened.
By and by the active step of my hostess crossed my sauntering way.
"Perhaps it may amuse you to come into the nursery, a little while,
colonel," said she, "it will be a novelty, at least, to you, to see
behind the scenes."
"I feel myself honored by the permission, I assure you; the _green-room_
always has an interest for me!" returned I; and I was soon ensconced in
a large, cushioned-chair, in a cozy corner, near the open, old-fashioned
"franklin" in which blazed a cheerful wood-fire. The rosy-cheeked
juveniles among whom I found myself vied with each other in efforts to
promote my comfort. One brought her own little chair, and placed it to
support my feet; another climbed up and stuffed a soft cushion greatly
larger than his own rotund, dumpling of a figure, between me and the
chair-back, assuring me with a grave shake of the head, in which I saw
the future Esculapius, "it is so nice ven your head do ache--mamma say
so, ven I put him on her always!" and bright-eyed little Bessie, between
whom and me a very good understanding already existed, crowned the
varied hospitalities of my initiatory visit by offering me the use of
her tiny muff!
My hostess, though she kept an observant eye upon us, from her seat by
her work-table over against my arm-chair, had too much tact to interfere
with the proceedings of my ministering cherubs; except to prevent the
possibility of my being annoyed.
When I had leisure to reconnoitre a little, I discovered, among the
other fixtures in the large, well-lighted, cheerful-looking apartment,
an old woman with a good-humored face and portly person, seated near a
window, sewing, with a large, well-stored basket of unmended linen and
hosiery before her.
Presently, the eldest son, a fine manly boy of some sixteen years
entered, hat and cane in hand. Used, I suppose, to a jumble of faces and
forms, in this human kaleidoscope, he evidently did not observe the
quiet figure in the high-backed chair. "Mother," he exclaimed in a tone
in which boyish animation and the utmost affection were singularly
united, striding across the room, like the Colossus of Rhodes, suddenly
endued with powers of locomotion: "Mother, you are the most beautiful
and irresistible of your beautiful and irresistible sex!" and stooping,
he pressed his full, cherry lips gently upon her rounded cheek.
A flash of amusement, mingled with the love-light in the soft eyes that
met those of the boy. He turned quickly. A scarcely-discernible
embarrassment of manner, and a quick flush in the bright young face,
were all that I had time to note, before he was at my side with a
cordial greeting and a playful welcome to "Mother's Land of Promise."
"Land of Nod, say rather," replied the presiding genius of the scene,
pointing to the quiescent form of little Bessie, who--her curly head
pillowed on her chubby arm--was just losing all consciousness of the
world, upon the rug at her mother's feet.
"George, what an armful!" said the youth, in a sort of half undertone,
as he tenderly lifted the little lay figure, and bore it to a crib.
"Don't get up, mother, I can cover her nicely. I say, mammy [an arch
glance over his shoulder towards the ancient matron of the
sewing-basket], how heavy bread and milk is, though, eh!"
"Speaking of bread and milk, here comes lunch," continued my hero for
the nonce, rubbing his hands energetically, and only desisting to give a
table the dextrous twirl that would bring it near his mother, and assist
the labors of the servant who had entered with a tray.
"Will, you immense fellow, take yourself out of the way! Colonel, permit
me to give your sedan-chair just the slightest impulse forward, and so
save you the trouble of moving. My adorable mother, allow me the honor
of being your Ganymede. Here we are, all right! Now, let's see what
there is--ham, baked apples, cold roast beef, hot cocoa--not so bad,
'pon my word. Colonel, I hope this crispy morning has given you some
appetite, after your hard cold--allow me"--
"Mammy fust," here interposed little Will, authoritatively, "'cause she
older dan us!" and, carefully holding the heaped-up plate his mother
placed in both hands, he deliberately adventured an overland journey to
the distant object of his affectionate solicitude.
At this juncture, it was discovered that the servant-man who brought up
the tray, had forgotten the sugar, and a young nursery-maid was
dispatched for it. Upon her return she contrived, by some awkwardness in
closing the door, to spill the whole result of her mission to the
pantry upon the floor. Her arms dropped by her sides, as if suddenly
paralyzed, and I noticed a remarkable variety in the shade of her broad
Irish physiognomy.
"There is no great harm done, Biddy," said my hostess, immediately, in a
peculiarly quiet, gentle voice, "just step down to John for another
bowlful. While poor Biddy is collecting her scattered senses on the
stairs, my son, will you kindly assist Willie in picking up the most
noticeable lumps?--put them in this saucer, my dear. She is just
learning, you know and--she would not cross that Rubicon as bravely as
the classic hero you were reading of last night."
"While we are so literary, mother--what is it about the dolphin? If I
remember rightly Bid was a pretty good exemplification"----
"Hush!--I am glad you thought to bring up more apples, Biddy. Colonel,
here is the most tempting spitzenberg--so good for a cold, too. Take
this to mammy will you, Biddy? The one I sent you before, was not so
nice as these, mammy--your favorite kind, you know."
Amused with the new scene in which I found myself, I accepted the
assurance of the fair _home mother_, as the Germans have it, that I was
not in the way, and lingered a little longer.
By and by, John came up to tell his mistress that there was an old man
at the door with a basket of little things to sell, and that he had sent
a box of sealing-wax for her to look at.
"Poo' man! poo' man?" said little Will, running up to my knee, with such
a sorrowful look in his innocent face--"an' it so-o-o col'," he added,
catching his mother's words, as if by instinct.
"Take him down the money, John," I overheard, in the intervals between
the discourse of my juvenile instructor, "and this cup of chocolate--it
will warm him. Ask him to sit by the hall stove, while he drinks it."
Nothing was said about the exceedingly portly brace of sandwiches that
were manufactured by the busiest of fingers, and which, through the
golden veil of Willie's light curls, I saw snugly tucked in, on either
side of the saucer.
"Now, young ladies," continued my amiable friend, addressing a bevy of
her rosy-cheeked young nieces, who had just before entered the room,
"here is a stick of fancy-colored wax, for each of us--make your own
choice. Luckily there is a red stick for Col. Lunettes" (a half
deprecatory glance at me), "the only color gentlemen use. And," as she
received the box again--"there is some for mammy and me--we are in
partnership, you know, mammy!"
A pleased look from the centre of the wide cap-frills by the window, was
the only response to this appeal; but I had repeatedly observed that,
despite her industry, mammy's huge spectacles took careful cognizance of
the various proceedings around her.
As I was about, for very shame, to beat a retreat, a cheery--"good
morning, Colonel, I tapped at your door, as I came up, and thought you
were napping it," arrested my intended departure. "So wifie has coaxed
you in here! Just like her! She thinks she can take the best care of you
with"--
"With the rest of the children!" I interrupted.
"My _loving spou_," as Bessie says, when she recites John Gilpin, "may I
trouble you to tie my cravat?" And with that important article of attire
in his hand, my friend knelt upon a low foot-stool, before his household
divinity.
"Thompson," said I, "I always knew you were one of the luckiest fellows
in the whole world; but may I ask--just as a point of scientific
inquiry--whether that office is always performed for you,
'One fair spirit for your minister?'"
"Not a bit of it! No indeed, 'pon my word! only when I go to a dinner,
as to-day--or to church, or--I say, Will, you unmitigated rogue, how
dare you! you'll spoil my cravat--don't you see mamma is just tying it!"
The little fellow thus objurgated, his eyes scintillating with mirth,
now fairly astride of his father's shoulders, clung tenaciously to his
prize, and petitioned for a ride in his familiar seat.
Resorting to stratagem, where force would ill apply, the father, rising
with a "thank you, dear wifie," retired backward towards a wide bed,
and, by a dextrous movement, suddenly landed his youthful captor in a
heap in the middle.
To lose no time, the brave boy, "conquered, but not subdued," made the
best use of his lungs, while reducing his arms and legs to order, and
Bessie, opening her beaming eyes, at this outcry, stretched out her arms
to aid her pathetic appeal to papa to "p'ay one little hos" with her,
"_only but one_!"
Evidently fearful of being out-generalled, the invader beat a rapid
retreat from the enemy's camp, with the words "thank you, love, I
believe the little rascal didn't tumble it, though I came within an ace,
like a real alderman, of _dying of a dinner_--before it was eaten!"
After this initiatory visit to the nursery of my fair friend, Mrs.
Thompson, I was allowed to come and go at my own pleasure, during the
remainder of my visit beneath her hospitable roof, and I found myself so
interested and amused by what I witnessed there, as often to leave the
solitude of my own apartment, though surrounded there by every possible
"aid and appliance" of comfort and enjoyment that refinement and
courtesy could supply, to learn the most beautiful lessons of practical
wisdom and goodness from the most unpretending of teachers.
One morning when the _habitue_ had sought his accustomed post of
observation, a young lady presented herself at the door, and seeing me,
was about to retreat with something about its being very early for a
visit, when Mrs. Thompson recalled her with a "Come in, my dear, and let
me have the pleasure of presenting you to Colonel Lunettes, the friend
of whom you have heard us all speak so often."
After the usual courtesies, this lovely earth-angel, with some
hesitation, and drawing her chair nearer her friend, explained her
errand.
Making a little screen of a cherub-head, as was my wont, I regaled
myself unobserved, with the music of sweet voices and the study of
pretty faces. I caught--"my old drawing-teacher"--"her husband was a
brute in their best days"--"this long, hard winter"--"not even a
carpet"--"the poor child on a wooden-bottomed chair, with a little dirty
pillow behind her head, and so emaciated!"--here there was a very
perceptible quiver in the low tones, followed by a little choking sort
of pause.
"I am really grateful to you for coming--I have been unusually occupied
lately by the baby's illness and other duties--the weather has given me
more than one twinge of conscience"--this accompanied by a quiet
transfer from one purse to another, and then I heard, as the two ladies
bent over the crib of the sleeping infant--"is there a stout boy among
the children? There are the barrels of pork and beef, always ready in
the cellar--each good and wholesome of their kind--husband always has
them brought from the farm on purpose to give away; and we have
abundance of fine potatoes--John could not readily find the place, and
really, just now, he is pretty busy; still, perhaps, they have the
natural pride of better days--if you think it well, I will try to
send"--the gentle ministers of mercy left the room together, and I heard
no more.
Presently, the youth of whom I have before spoken, still at home
enjoying his holiday's college vacation, joined me, and, between the
exercises of an entertaining gymnastic exhibition, in which he and
Willie were the chief performers, regaled me with humorous sketches of
college adventures, anecdotes of the professors, etc., in the details of
some of which I think he had his quiet old nurse in his mind's eye, as
well as his father's guest.
When Mrs. Thompson resumed her accustomed seat at her business-table, as
it might well be called, my agreeable young entertainer slid away from
the group about the fire, and was soon snugged down, in his own favorite
fashion, with his legs comfortably crossed over the top of the chair
sustaining mammy's implements, cheek-by-jowl with the venerable genius
of the sewing-basket, dipping into a newspaper, and chatting, at
intervals, with his humble friend. Once in a while I caught a sentence
like this:
"I say, mammy, you can't begin to think how glad I am you are getting
down to my shirts! Such work as they make washing for a fellow at
college! My black washerwoman (and such a beauty as she is--such a
little rosebud of a mouth!) pretends to fasten the loose buttons--now,
there is a specimen of her performances--just look! The real truth is,
Mrs. Welch, that mother and you are the only women I know of who can sew
on a button worth a pin--just the only two, by George! Now, there's
Pierre de Carradeaux, one of our young fellows down there--his friends
all live in Hayti, or some other unknown and uninhabitable region, you
know, over the sea--I wish you could see his clothes! The way they mend
at the tailors! But the darns in his stockings are the funniest. He
rooms with me, and so I hear him talking to himself, in French. I am
afraid he swears, sometimes--but the way he fares is enough to make a
saint swear!" And then followed a detail that caused mammy to wipe her
eyes in sympathy with this strange phase of human woe, in alternation
with an occasional exclamation of amusement--like, "You'll surely be the
death of me, Master Sidney!" apparently forced spasmodically from her
lips, despite the self-imposed taciturnity which, I shrewdly suspected,
my presence created.
"Mother, my revered maternal primitive, may I read you this anecdote?
Colonel, will you allow me?"--a respectful glance at the book in my
hand. And squeezing himself in from behind, by some utterly
inconceivable india-rubber pliancy, between the fire and his
much-enduring parent, the tall form of the stripling slowly subsided
until I could discern nothing but a mass of wavy black hair reposing
amid the soft folds of his mother's morning-gown, and a bit of his
newspaper. Thus disposed, apparently to the entire satisfaction of all
concerned, he read:
"Once, while the celebrated John Kemble, the renowned actor and acute
critic, was still seated at the dinner-table of an English nobleman,
with whom he had been dining, a servant announced that Mrs. Kemble
awaited her husband in a carriage at the door. Some time elapsed, and
the impersonator of Shakspeare's mighty creations remained immovable.
At length the servant, re-entering, said: 'Mrs. Kemble bids me say, sir,
that she is afraid of getting the _rheumatiz_.' 'Add _ism_,' replied the
imperturbable critic of language, and quietly continued his discourse
with his host."
"If I should ever be compelled to marry--which, of course, I never shall
unless you disinherit me, mother, or mammy insists upon leaving us to
keep house for that handsome widower, in the long snuff
overcoat--[though the respectable female thus alluded to did not even
glance up from her stitching, I plainly marked a little nod of virtuous
defiance, and a fluttering in the crimpings of the ample cap-border,
that plainly expressed desperation to the hopes of the widower
aforesaid]--but if fate _should_ decree my 'attaining knowledge under
difficulties,' upon this subject, I hope I'll be a little too decent to
keep my wife sitting out doors in a London fog (I shall make a bridal
tour to Europe, of course), while I am imbibing, even with a 'nobleman.'
Speaking of the tyranny of fate, I am, most reluctantly, compelled to
deprive you of my refreshing conversation, my dear and excellent mother.
If my dilapidated linen is restored to its virgin integrity: in other
words, if my shirt is done, I propose retiring to the deepest shades of
private life, and getting myself up, without the slightest consideration
for the financial affairs of my honored masculine progenitor, for a
morning call upon ----, the fortunate youthful beauty I, at present,
honor with my particular adoration." So saying, Sir Hopeful slowly
emerged from his 'loop-hole of retreat,' and making a profound obeisance
to his guardian spirit, and another to me, a shade less lowly, he took
himself off, with his linen over his arm, and a grand parting flourish
at the door, with his hat upon his walking-stick, for the especial
benefit of his little brother, which elicited a shout of unmingled
admiration from the juvenile spectators that need not have been despised
by Herr Alexander himself.
During dinner that day, as the varied and most bountiful course of
pastry, etc., was about to be removed, young Sidney said:
"Mother, allow me to relieve you of the largest half of that
solitary-looking piece of mince-pie. I am sorry I cannot afford to take
the whole of it under my protecting care."
"My dear son," replied my hostess, pleasantly, "let me suggest the
attractions of variety. You have already done your _devoir_ to this pie.
Your father pronounces the cocoanut excellent"--and then, as if in reply
to the look of surprise that met her good-humored sally, she added, in a
tone meant only for the ears of the youth, "this happens to be the last,
and mammy eats no other, you remember."
"No great matter, either; to-morrow will be baking-day. Now I know why
you took none yourself, mother," answered Sidney, cheerfully, in the
same "aside" manner; and the placid smile on the hospitable face of the
'home-mother' alone acknowledged her recognition of the ascription of
self-denial to her; for it is not occasionally, but always, that
"In the clear heaven of her delightful eye,
An angel guard of loves and graces lie."
Adieu!
UNCLE HAL.
LETTER V.
MANNER--PRACTICAL DIRECTIONS.
MY DEAR NEPHEWS:
Though good breeding is always and everywhere essentially the same,
there are phases of daily life, especially demanding its exhibition.
_Manner in the street_ is one of these.
Even in hours most exclusively devoted to business, do not allow
yourself to hurry along with a clouded, absent face and bent head, as if
you forever felt the foot of the earth-god on your neck! Carry an erect
and open brow into the very midst of the heat and burden of the day.
Take time to see your friends, as they cross you in the busy
thoroughfares of life and, at least by a passing smile or a gesture of
recognition, give token that you are not resolved into a mere
money-making machine, and both will be better for this fleeting
manifestation of the inner being.
During business hours and in crowded business-streets no man should ever
stop another, whom he knows to be necessarily constantly occupied at
such times, except upon a matter of urgent need, and then if he alone
is to be benefited by the detention, he should briefly apologize and
state his errand in as few words as possible.
But the habit of a cheerful tone of voice, a cordial smile, and friendly
grasp of the hand, when meeting those with whom one is associated in
social life, is not to be regarded as unimportant.
If you do not intend to stop, when meeting a gentleman friend, recognize
him as you approach, by a smile, and touching your hat salute him
audibly with--"Good morning, sir," or "I hope you are well, sir," or
(more familiarly), "Ah, Charley!--good morning to you." But don't say,
"How d' ye do, sir," when you cannot expect to learn, nor call back as
you pass, something that will cause him to linger, uncertain what you
say.
If you wish to stop a moment, especially in a thoroughfare, retain the
hand you take, while you retire a little out of the human current; and
never fall into the absurdity of attempting to draw a tight or moistened
glove while another waits the slow process. It is better to offer the
gloved hand as a rule, without apology, in the street.
If you are compelled to detain a friend, when he is walking with a
stranger, briefly but politely apologize to the stranger, and keep no
one "in durance vile" longer than absolute necessity requires. When thus
circumstanced yourself, respond cheerfully and courteously to the
apologetic phrase offered, and, drawing a little aside, occupy yourself
with anything beside the private conversation that interrupts your
walk. Sometimes circumstances render it decorous to pass on with some
courteous phrase, to step into some neighboring bookseller's, etc., or
to make a rapid appointment for a re-union. Cultivate the quick
discernment, the ready tact, that will engender _ease of manner_ under
those and similar circumstances requiring prompt action.
Never leave a friend suddenly in the street, either to join another, or
for any other reason, without an apology; the briefest phrase, expressed
in a _cordial tone_, will suffice, in an emergency.
Upon passing servants, or other inferiors in station, whom you wish to
recognize, in the street, it is a good practice, without bowing or
touching the hat, to salute them in a kindly voice.
When you meet a gentleman whom you know, walking with one or more
ladies, with whom you are not acquainted, bow with grave respect to them
also.
Politeness requires that upon meeting ladies and gentlemen together,
with both of whom one is acquainted, that one should lift the hat as he
approaches them, and bowing first to the ladies, include the gentleman
in a sweeping motion, or a succeeding bow, as the case permits. Should
you stop, speak first to the lady, but do not offer to shake hands with
a lady in full morning costume, should your glove be dark-colored or
your hand uncovered. Again lift your hat to each, in succession of age
or rank, as a substitute for this dubious civility, with some playful
expression, as "I am sorry my glove is not quite fresh, Mrs. ----, but
you need no assurance of my being always the most devoted of your
friends" or "admirers," or "Really, Miss ----, you are so beautifully
dressed, and looking so charmingly, that I dare not venture too near!"
And as you part, again take your hat quite off, letting the party _pass
you_, and on the wall side of the street, if that be practicable.
In the street with other men, carefully give that precedence to superior
age or station which is so becoming in the young, by taking the outer
side of the pavement, or that nearer the counter current, as
circumstances may
Showing first 200,000 characters. Full text: gutenberg.org/ebooks/39005