The Ladies' Guide to True Politeness and Perfect Manners

When you send a letter by a private opportunity, (a thing which is already almost obsolete since the days of cheap postage,) it will be sufficient to introduce very near the lower edge of the left-hand corner of the back, simply the name of the gentleman who carries it, written small. It is now considered old-fashioned to insert on the back of such a letter – "Politeness of Mr. Smith" – "Favoured by Mr. Jones" – "Honoured by Mr. Brown." If the letter is to cross the sea, by mail or otherwise, write the name of the vessel on the left-hand corner of the outside.

When a letter is to go to New York city, always put the words New York in full, (and not N. Y.), written large. Much confusion is caused by the name of this state and its metropolis being the same. It has been well-suggested that the name of the state of New York should be changed to Ontario – a beautiful change. In directing to any of the towns in the state of New York, then put N. Y. after the name of the town, as Hudson, N. Y., – Syracuse, N. Y., &c.

In sending a letter to the metropolis of the Union, direct for Washington, D. C.

In directing to a clergyman, put Rev. (Reverend) before his name. If a bishop, Right Reverend. To an officer, immediately after his name put U. S. A. for United States Army, or U. S. N. for United States Navy – having preceded his name with Gen., Col., Capt., Lieut., according to his rank.

The title Hon. (Honourable) is always used in directing to a member of congress, a member of the cabinet, a judge of the supreme court, an ambassador, or the governor of a state. For the Chief Magistrate of the Union, you may direct simply to the President of the United States. The term "Excellency" is now but little used.

For a gentleman holding a professorship in a university, preface his name with Prof. or Professor. The title of "Professor" does not really belong to all men who teach any thing, or to every man that exhibits a show – or to mesmerists, and spiritual knockers. Do not give it to them.

For sealing letters no light is so convenient as a wax taper in a low stand. A lamp, or candle, may smoke or blacken the wax. To seal well, your wax should be of the finest quality. Red wax of a bright scarlet colour is the best. Low-priced wax consumes very fast; and when melted, looks purplish or brownish. When going to melt sealing-wax, rest your elbow on the table to keep your hand steady. Take the stick of wax between your thumb and finger, and hold it a little above the light, so that it barely touches the point of the flame. Turn the stick round till it is equally softened on all sides. Then insert a little of the melted wax under the turn-over part of the letter, just where the seal is to come. This will render it more secure than if the sole dependence was on the outside seal. Or instead of this little touch of wax, you may slip beneath the turn-over a small wafer, either white or of the same colour as the wax. Then begin at the outer edge of the place you intend for the seal; and move the wax in a circle, which must gradually diminish till it terminates in the centre. Put the seal exactly to the middle of the soft wax, and press it down hard, but do not screw it round. Then withdraw it suddenly. Do not use motto seals unless writing to a member of your own family, or to an intimate friend. For common service, (and particularly for letters of business,) a plain seal, with simply your initials, is best.

For a note always use a very small seal. In addressing one of your own family, it is not necessary to follow scrupulously all these observances. In writing to persons decidedly your inferiors in station, avoid the probability of mortifying them by sending mean, ill-looking notes.

Remember also (what, strange to say, some people calling themselves ladies seem not to know) that a note commenced in the first person must continue in the first person all through. The same when it begins in the third person. We have heard of invitations to a party being worded thus: —

Mrs. Welford's compliments to Mrs. Marley, and requests the pleasure of her company on Thursday evening.

Yours sincerely,E. Welford.

Notes of invitation should always designate both the day of the week and that of the month. If that of the month only is specified, one figure may perhaps be mistaken for another; for instance, the 13th may look like the 18th, or the 25th like the 26th. We know instances where, from this cause, some of the guests did not come till the night after the party.

There are some very sensible people who, in their invitations, tell frankly what is to be expected, and if they really ask but a few friends, they at once give the names of those friends, so that you may know whom you are to see. If you are to meet no more than can sit round the tea-table, they signify the same. If they expect twenty, thirty, or forty persons, they say so – and do not leave you in doubt whether to dress for something very like a party, or for a mere family tea-drinking.

If it is a decided music-party, by all means specify the same, that those who have no enjoyment of what is considered fashionable music, may stay away.

Always reply to a note of invitation the day after you have received it. To a note on business send an answer the same day. After accepting an invitation, should any thing occur to prevent your going, send a second note in due time.

Do not take offence at a friend because she does not invite you every time she has company. Her regard for you may be as warm as ever, but it is probably inconvenient for her to have more than a certain number at a time. Believe that the omission is no evidence of neglect, or of a desire to offend you; but rest assured that you are to be invited on other occasions. If you are not, then indeed you may take it as a hint that she is no longer desirous of continuing the acquaintance. Be dignified enough not to call her to account; but cease visiting her, without taking her to task and bringing on a quarrel. But if you must quarrel, let it not be in writing. A paper war is always carried too far, and produces bitterness of feeling which is seldom entirely eradicated, even after apologies have been made and accepted. Still, when an offence has been given in writing, the atonement should be made in writing also.

Much time is wasted (particularly by young ladies) in writing and answering such epistles as are termed "letters of friendship," – meaning long documents (frequently with crossed lines) filled with regrets at absence, asseverations of eternal affection, modest deprecations of your humble self, and enthusiastic glorifyings of your exalted correspondent; or else wonderments at both of you being so much alike, and so very congenial; and anticipations of rapture at meeting again, and lamentations at the slow progress of time, till the extatic hour of re-union shall arrive – the postscript usually containing some confidential allusion to a lover, (either real or supposed,) and perhaps a kind enquiry about a real or supposed lover of your friend's.

Now such letters as these are of no manner of use but to foster a sickly, morbid feeling, (very often a fictitious one,) and to encourage nonsense, and destroy all relish for such true friendship as is good and wholesome.

A still worse species of voluminous female correspondence is that which turns entirely upon love, or rather on what are called "beaux;" or entirely on hate – for instance, hatred of step-mothers. This topic is considered the more piquant from its impropriety, and from its being carried on in secret.

Then there are young ladies born with the organ of letter-writing amazingly developed, and increased by perpetual practice, who can scarcely become acquainted with a gentleman possessing brains, without volunteering a correspondence with him. And then ensues a long epistolary dialogue about nothing, or at least nothing worth reading or remembering; trenching closely on gallantry, but still not quite that; affected flippancy on the part of the lady; and unaffected impertinence on that of the gentleman, "which serves her right" – alternating with pretended poutings on her side, and half or whole-laughing apologies on his. Sometimes there are attempts at moralizing, or criticising, or sentimentalizing – but nothing is ever elicited that, to a third person, can afford the least amusement or improvement, or excite the least interest. Yet, strange to say, gentlemen have been inveigled into this sort of correspondence, even by ladies who have made a business of afterward selling the letters for publication, and making money out of them. And such epistles have actually been printed. We do not suppose they have been read. The public is very stubborn in refusing to read what neither amuses, interests, or improves – even when a publisher is actually so weak as to print such things.

No young lady ever engages in a correspondence with a gentleman that is neither her relative or her betrothed, without eventually lessening herself in his eyes. Of this she may rest assured. With some men, it is even dangerous for a lady to write a note on the commonest subject. He may show the superscription, or the signature, or both, to his idle companions, and make insinuations much to her disadvantage, which his comrades will be sure to circulate and exaggerate.

Above all, let no lady correspond with a married man, unless she is obliged to consult him on business; and from that plain, straight path let her not diverge. Even if the wife sees and reads every letter, she will, in all probability, feel a touch of jealousy, (or more than a touch,) if she finds that they excite interest in her husband, or give him pleasure. This will inevitably be the case if the married lady is inferior in intellect to the single one, and has a lurking consciousness that she is so.

Having hinted what the correspondence of young ladies ought not to be, we will try to convey some idea of what it ought. Let us premise that there is no danger of any errors in grammar or spelling, and but few faults of punctuation, and that the fair writers are aware that a sentence should always conclude with a period or full stop, to be followed by a capital letter beginning the next sentence; and that a new paragraph should be allotted to every change of subject, provided that there is room on the sheet of paper. And still, it is well to have always at hand a dictionary and a grammar, in case of unaccountable lapses of memory. However, persons who have read much, and read to advantage, generally find themselves at no loss in orthography, grammar, and punctuation. To spell badly is disgraceful in a lady or gentleman, and it looks as if they had quitted reading as soon as they quitted school.

To write a legible and handsome hand is an accomplishment not sufficiently valued. And yet of what importance it is! We are always vexed when we hear people of talent making a sort of boast of the illegibility of their writing, and relating anecdotes of the difficulty with which it has been read, and the mistakes made by its decipherers. There are persons who affect bad writing, and boast of it, because the worst signatures extant are those of Shakspeare, Bonaparte, and Byron. These men were great in spite of their autographs, not because of them. The caliph Haroun Alraschid, who was well imbued with Arabic learning, sent an elegantly written letter to Charlemagne, with a splendid cover and seals; not being aware that the European emperor's signature was made by dipping his thumb into the ink and giving a smear – sealing with the hilt of his dagger.

The "wording" of your letter should be as much like conversation as possible, containing (in a condensed form) just what you would be most likely to talk about if you saw your friend. A letter is of no use unless it conveys some information, excites some interest, or affords some improvement. It may be handsomely written, correct in spelling, punctuation, and grammar, and yet stiff and formal in style – affectedly didactic, and therefore tiresome – or mawkishly sentimental, and therefore foolish. It may be refined, or high-flown in words, but flat and barren in ideas, containing nothing that a correspondent cares to know.

Read over each page of your letter, as you finish it, to see that there are no errors. If you find any, correct them carefully. In writing a familiar letter, a very common fault is tautology, or a too frequent repetition of the same word – for instance, "Yesterday I received a letter from sister Mary, which was the first letter I have received from sister since she left." The sentence should be, "Yesterday I received a letter from my sister Mary, the first since she left us."

Unless you are writing to one of your own family, put always the pronoun "my" before the word "sister." Say also – "my father," "my mother," and not "father," "mother," as if they were also the parents of your correspondent.

To end the sentence with the word "left," (for departed,) is awkward and unsatisfactory – for instance, "It is two days since he left." Left what? It is one of the absurd innovations that have crept in among us of late years, and are supposed to be fashionable. Another is the ridiculous way of omitting the possessive S in words ending with that letter; for instance, "Sims' Hotel" instead of "Sims's Hotel" – "Jenkins' Bakery" for "Jenkins's Bakery." Would any one, in talking, say they had stayed at Sims' Hotel, or that they bought their bread at Jenkins' Bakery. This is ungrammatical, as it obliterates the possessive case, and is therefore indefinite; and moreover, it looks and sounds awkwardly.

Many persons who think themselves good grammarians put on their cards "The Misses Brown," – "The Misses Smith." Those who really are so, write "The Miss Browns" – "The Miss Smiths" – the plural being always on the substantive, and never on the adjective. Would we say "the whites glove" instead of "the white gloves" – or the "blues ribbon" for the "blue ribbons." Does any lady in talking say, "The two Misses Brown called to see me?"

It is also wrong to say "two spoonsful," instead of two spoonfuls. Thus, "two spoonsful of milk" seems to imply two separate spoons with milk in each; while "two spoonfuls of milk" gives the true idea – one spoon twice filled.

Avoid in writing, as in talking, all words that do not express the true meaning. We are sorry to say that sometimes even among educated people, when attempting smartness or wit, we find a sort of conventional slang that has, in truth, a strong tinge of vulgarity, being the wilful substitution of bad words or bad phrases for good ones. When we find them issuing from the lips or the pen of a lady, we fear she is unfortunate in a reprobate husband, or brother, from whom she must have learnt them. Yet even reprobates dislike to hear their wives and sisters talking coarsely.

Unless you know that your correspondent is well versed in French, refrain from interlarding your letters with Gallic words or phrases.

Do not introduce long quotations from poetry. Three or four lines of verse are sufficient. One line, or two, are better still. Write them rather smaller than your usual hand, and leave a space at the beginning and end; marking their commencement and termination with inverted commas, thus “ ”.

One of our young relatives when seven or eight years old, tried her hand at story-writing. In finishing the history of a naughty girl, much addicted to falsehood, the terminating sentence ran thus: —

"Arabella did not cure herself of this fault; but when she grew up, and became an authoress, she never marked her quotations."

If your letter is longer than can be comprised in one sheet, number the pages, placing the number near the upper corner. If engaged in a regular correspondence on business or other things, or in writing from a foreign country to your family at home, number not only the pages, but the letter itself, putting that figure in the centre at the top of the first page. Thus, if your friend, having received No. 10, finds the next letter that comes to hand is No. 12, she will know that No. 11 is missing, and will tell you so in her reply. Keep a memorandum of the letters you have sent, that you may know how to number the next. Before commencing a long letter, it is well to put down on a slip of paper, a list of the subjects you intend to write on.

Unless to persons living in the same house, do not enclose one letter in another. And even then, it is not always safe to do so. Let each letter be transmitted on its own account, by mail, with its own full direction, and its own post-office stamp. We know an instance where the peace of a family was entirely ruined by one of its members suppressing enclosed letters. Confide to no one the delivery of an important letter intended for another person. It is better to trust to the mail, and send a duplicate by the next post.

To break the seal of a letter directed to another person is punishable by law. To read secretly the letter of another is morally as felonious. A woman who would act thus meanly is worse than those who apply their eyes or ears to key-holes, or door-cracks, or who listen under windows, or look down from attics upon their neighbours; or who, in a dusky parlour, before the lamps are lighted, ensconce themselves in a corner, and give no note of their presence while listening to a conversation not intended for them to hear.

We do not conceive that, unless he authorizes her to do so, (which he had best not,) a wife is justifiable in opening her husband's letters, or he in reading hers. Neither wife nor husband has any right to entrust to the other the secrets of their friends; and letters may contain such secrets. Unless under extraordinary circumstances, parents should not consider themselves privileged to inspect the correspondence of grown-up children. Brothers and sisters always take care that their epistles shall not be unceremoniously opened by each other. In short, a letter is the property of the person to whom it is addressed, and nobody has a right to read it without permission.

If you are shown an autograph signature at the bottom of a letter, be satisfied to look at that only; and do not open out, and read the whole – unless desired.

Some years ago, in one of our most popular magazines, were several pages containing fac-simile signatures of a number of distinguished literary women – chiefly English. We saw an original letter, from a lady, who complained that some mischievous person had taken her magazine out of the post-office before it reached her, and shamefully scribbled women's names in it, disfiguring it so as to render it unfit for binding; therefore she desired the publisher to send her a clean copy in place of it.

In putting up packets to send away, either tie them round and across, with red tape, (sealing them also where the tape crosses,) or seal them without any tape. If the paper is strong, the wax good, and the contents of the parcel not too heavy, sealing will in most cases be sufficient. Twine or cord may cut the paper, and therefore is best omitted. Never put up a parcel in newspaper. It looks mean and disrespectful, and will soil the articles inside.

Keep yourself provided with different sorts and sizes of wrapping-paper.

A large packet requires more than one seal; the seals rather larger than for a letter.

Put up newspapers, for transmission, in thin whitish or brownish paper, pasting the cover, and leaving one end open. Newspaper-stamps cost but one cent, and are indispensable to the transmission of the paper.

Avoid giving letters of introduction to people whose acquaintance cannot possibly afford any pleasure or advantage to those whose civilities are desired for them, or who have not leisure to attend to strangers. Artists, authors, and all other persons to whom "time is money," and whose income stops whenever their hands and eyes are unemployed, are peculiarly annoyed by the frequency of introductory letters, brought by people with whom they can feel no congeniality, and whom they never would have sought for. Among the children of genius, but few are in a situation to entertain strangers handsomely, as it is called, which means, expensively. Many are kept always in straitened circumstances, from the incessant demands on their time and attention. And in numerous instances, letters are asked and given with no better motive than the gratification of idle curiosity.

We advise all persons obtaining an introductory letter to a painter, to ascertain, before presenting it, what branch of the art he professes. We have been asked whether a certain artist (one of the most distinguished in London) painted "figures, flowers, or landscapes." Also, no one should presume to request an introduction to an authoress, if they are ignorant whether she writes prose or verse. Not that they are expected to talk to her, immediately, on literary subjects. Far from it; but if they know nothing of her works, they deserve no letter. In America, books, or at least newspapers, are accessible to all who can read.

Bores are peculiarly addicted to asking letters of introduction, in accordance with their system of "bestowing their tediousness" upon as many people as possible. We pity the kind friends from whom these missives are required, and who have not courage to refuse, or address enough to excuse themselves plausibly from complying.

We have known instances of stupid, vulgar persons, on preparing to visit another city, obtaining letters to families of the really highest class, and receiving from them the usual civilities, which they knew not how to appreciate.

On the other hand, how pleasant it is, by means of an introductory letter, to bring together two kindred spirits, whose personal intercourse must inevitably produce mutual satisfaction, who are glad to know each other, glad to meet frequently, and grateful to the friend who has made them acquainted.

Letters of introduction should not be sealed. To do so is rude, and mean. If you wish to write on the same day to the same person, take another sheet, write as long an epistle as you please, seal it, and send it by mail.

It is best to deliver an introductory letter in person, as the lady or gentleman whose civilities have been requested in your behalf, may thus be spared the trouble of calling at your lodgings, with the risk of not finding you at home. This is very likely to happen, if you send instead of taking it yourself. If you do send it, enclose a card with your residence. Also, it is more respectful to go yourself, than to expect them to come to you.

As soon as you are shown into the parlour, send up the letter, and wait till the receiver comes to you.

When a letter is brought to you by a private hand, the usual ceremony is to defer reading it till the bringer has departed, unless he desires you to read it at once, which he will, if it is evidently a short letter. If a long one, request him to excuse you a moment while you look at the beginning, to see if your correspondent is well.

On farewell cards, it is usual to write with a pencil the letters "t. t. l.," "to take leave" – or "p. p. c.," "pour prendre congé." A lady complained to us that an acquaintance of hers, about to leave town, had left a card for her with "p. d. a." upon it. Not understanding the meaning of these letters, she had applied to a friend for explanation, who told her they meant "poor dear adieu." "Now," continued she – "I cannot understand why a mere acquaintance should be so familiar as to call me 'poor dear;' why am I a poor dear to her?" We relieved her by explaining that "pour dire adieu" was French for "to bid adieu."

To conclude – let nothing induce you to give a letter of introduction to any person whose moral character is disreputable.

CHAPTER XIV.

PRESENTS

Having accepted a present, it is your duty, and ought to be your pleasure, to let the giver see that you make use of it as intended, and that it is not thrown away upon you. If it is an article of dress, or of personal decoration, take occasion, on the first suitable opportunity, to wear it in presence of the giver. If an ornament for the centre-table, or the mantel-piece, place it there. If a book, do not delay reading it. Afterward, speak of it to her as favourably as you can. If of fruit or flowers, refer to them the next time you see her.