The Ladies' Guide to True Politeness and Perfect Manners

In all cases, when a gift is sent to you, return a note of thanks; or at least a verbal message to that effect.

Never enquire of the giver what was the price of her gift, or where she bought it. To do so is considered exceedingly rude.

When an article is presented to you for a specified purpose, it is your duty to use it for that purpose, and for no other, according to the wish of the donor. It is mean and dishonourable to give away a present; at least without first obtaining permission from the original giver. You have no right to be liberal or generous at the expense of another, or to accept a gift with a secret determination to bestow it yourself on somebody else. If it is an article that you do not want, that you possess already, or that you cannot use for yourself, it is best to say so candidly, at once; expressing your thanks for the offer, and requesting your friend to keep it for some other person to whom it will be advantageous. It is fit that the purchaser of the gift should have the pleasure of doing a kindness with her own hand, and eliciting the gratitude of one whom she knows herself. It is paltry in you to deprive her of this pleasure, by first accepting a present, and then secretly giving it away as from yourself.

There are instances of women whose circumstances did not allow them to indulge often in delicacies, that on a present of early fruit, or some other nice thing being sent to them by a kind friend, have ostentatiously transferred the gift to a wealthy neighbour, with a view of having it supposed that they had bought it themselves, and that to them such things were no rarities. This is contemptible – but it is sometimes done.

Making a valuable present to a rich person is in most cases, a work of supererogation; unless the gift is of something rare or unique, which cannot be purchased, and which may be seen and used to more advantage at the house of your friend than while in your own possession. But to give an expensive article of dress, jewellery, or furniture to one whose means of buying such things are quite equal (if not superior) to your own, is an absurdity; though not a very uncommon one, as society is now constituted. Such gifts elicit no real gratitude, for in all probability, they may not suit the pampered taste of those to whom fine things are no novelties. Or they may be regarded (however unjustly) as baits or nets to catch, in return, something of still greater cost.

There are persons, who, believing that presents are generally made with some mercenary view, and being unwilling themselves to receive favours, or incur obligations, make a point of repaying them as soon as possible, by a gift of something equivalent. This at once implies that they suspect the motive. If sincere in her friendship, the donor of the first present will feel hurt at being directly paid for it, and consider that she has been treated rudely, and unjustly. On the other hand, if compensation was secretly desired, and really expected, she will be disappointed at receiving nothing in return. Therefore, we repeat, that among persons who can conveniently provide themselves with whatever they may desire, the bestowal of presents is generally a most unthankful business. If you are in opulent circumstances, it is best to limit your generosity to such friends only as do not abound in the gifts of fortune, and whose situation denies them the means of indulging their tastes. By them such acts of kindness will be duly appreciated, and gratefully remembered; and the article presented will have a double value, if it is to them a novelty.

Gratitude is a very pleasant sensation, both for those who feel and to those who excite it. No one who confers a favour can say with truth, that "they want no thanks." They always do.

We know not why, when a young lady of fortune is going to be married, her friends should all be expected to present her with bridal gifts. It is a custom that sometimes bears heavily on those whose condition allows them but little to spare. And from that little it may be very hard for them to squeeze out enough to purchase some superfluous ornament, or some bauble for a centre-table, when it is already glittering with the gifts of the opulent; – gifts lavished on one who is really in no need of such things; and whose marriage confers no benefit on any one but herself. Why should she be rewarded for gratifying her own inclination in marrying the man of her choice? Now that it is fashionable to display all the wedding-gifts arranged in due form on tables, and labelled with the names of the donors, the seeming necessity of giving something expensive, or at least elegant, has become more onerous than ever. For instance, poor Miss Cassin can barely afford a simple brooch that costs about five dollars; but she strains the utmost capacity of her slender purse to buy one at ten dollars, that it may not disgrace the brilliant assemblage of jewellery that glitters on the bridal table of her wealthy friend Miss Denham. And after all, she finds that her modest little trinket looks really contemptible beside the diamond pin given by Mrs. Farley the millionaire. After all, she sees no one notice it, and hears no one say that it is even neat and pretty. To be sure, the bride, when it was sent with a note on the preceding day, did vouchsafe a polite answer. But then, if poor Miss C. does not make a wedding present to rich Miss D., it might be supposed that Miss C. cannot afford it. Neither she can. And her making the effort elicits perhaps some satirical remarks, that would be very mortifying to Miss Cassin if she heard them.

We repeat, that we cannot exactly perceive why, when the union of a couple of lovers, in many cases, adds to the happiness, honour, and glory of the married pair alone, their friends should think it a duty to levy on themselves these contributions; so often inconvenient to the givers, and not much cared for by the receivers.

When the young couple are not abounding in what are called "the goods of this world," the case is altered; and it may then be an act of real kindness for the opulent friends of the bride to present her with any handsome article of dress, or of furniture, that they think will be acceptable. What we contend is, that on a marriage in a wealthy family, the making of presents should be confined to the immediate relatives of the lady, and only to such of them as can well afford it.

Much of the money wasted in making ostentatious gifts to brides whose fathers have already given them a splendid outfit, might be far better employed, in assisting to purchase the trousseaus and the furniture of deserving young women in humble life, on their marriage with respectable tradesmen or mechanics. How many ladies of fortune have it in their power to do this – yet how seldom it is done!

At christenings, it is fortunately the sponsors only that are expected to make gifts to the infant. Therefore, invite no persons as sponsors, who cannot well afford this expense; unless you are sufficiently intimate to request them, privately, not to comply with the custom; being unwilling that they should cause themselves inconvenience by doing so.

The presentation of Christmas and New-Year's gifts is often a severe tax on persons with whom money is not plenty. It would be well if it were the universal custom to expect and receive no presents from any but the rich.

In making gifts to children, choose for them only such things as will afford them somewhat of lasting amusement. For boys, kites, tops, balls, marbles, wheelbarrows, carts, gardening utensils, and carpenter's tools, &c. Showy toys, that are merely to look at, and from which they can derive no enjoyment but in breaking them to pieces, are not worth buying. Little girls delight in little tea-sets, and dinner-sets, in which they can "make feasts," miniature kitchen-utensils, to play at cooking, washing, &c.; and dolls so dressed that all the clothes can be taken off and put on at pleasure. They soon grow tired of a doll whose glittering habiliments are sewed fast upon her. A wax doll in elegant attire is too precarious and expensive a plaything to make them happy; as they are always afraid of injuring her. We knew a little girl for whom a magnificent wax doll, splendidly dressed, was brought from France; and for an hour she was highly delighted. But next morning she was found still more happy in carrying about her favourite baby, a sofa-pillow, with an old shawl pinned round it for a frock; feeling perfect freedom to toss it about as she pleased. Children like their doll-babies to be very substantial, and rather heavy than light. A large, well-made rag-doll is for a small child far better than any other – occasionally putting a clean new face upon it.

We have seen country children perfectly satisfied with a doll that was nothing but a hard ear of Indian corn, arrayed in a coarse towel pinned round it. A little farm-house boy, of three years old, made a pet of a large squash, which he dressed in a pocket-handkerchief, and called Phebe Ann. We heard him say, as he passed his hand over its lumpy neck, "Poor Phebe Ann! what hives she has!"

To an intelligent child, no gifts are so valuable as entertaining books – provided they really are entertaining. Children are generally wise enough to prefer an amusing book in a plain cover, to a dull one shining with gold. When children are able to read fluently, they lose much of their desire for mere picture-books. If the cuts are badly executed, and give ugly, disagreeable ideas of the characters in the stories, they only trouble and annoy the little readers, instead of pleasing them. Some of the most popular juvenile books have no pictures inside, and no gilding outside. Bad engravings, (beside uselessly enhancing the price,) spoil the taste of the children. We highly recommend to the publishers of juvenile books to omit the cuts entirely, if they cannot afford very good ones. Many children have better judgment in these things than their parents suppose; and some of them more than the parents themselves.

Children have less enjoyment than is supposed in being taken to shops to choose gifts for themselves, or even in laying out their own money. It is always a long time before they can decide on what to buy, and as soon as they have fixed upon one thing, they immediately see something they like better. And often, after getting home, they are dissatisfied with their choice, and sorry they bought it. Also, they frequently wear out the patience of the shopkeepers; being desirous of seeing every thing, and pondering so long before they can determine on buying any thing.

It is every way better to go to the shops without them, buy what you think proper, and then give them an agreeable surprise by the presentation.

Young ladies should be careful how they accept presents from gentlemen. No truly modest and dignified woman will incur such obligations. And no gentleman who really respects her will offer her any thing more than a bouquet, a book, one or two autographs of distinguished persons, or a few relics or mementos of memorable places – things that derive their chief value from associations. But to present a young lady with articles of jewellery, or of dress, or with a costly ornament for the centre-table, (unless she is his affianced wife,) ought to be regarded as an offence, rather than a compliment, excusable only in a man sadly ignorant of the refinements of society. And if he is so, she should set him right, and civilly, but firmly, refuse to be his debtor.

Yet, we are sorry to say, that there are ladies so rapacious, and so mean, that they are not ashamed to give broad hints to gentlemen, (particularly those gentlemen who are either very young or very old,) regarding certain beautiful card-cases, bracelets, essence-bottles, &c. which they have seen and admired, – even going so far as to fall in love with elegant shawls, scarfs, splendid fans, and embroidered handkerchiefs. And their admiration is so violent, and so reiterated, that the gentleman knows not how to resist; he therefore puts them in possession of a gift far too costly for any woman of delicacy to accept. In such cases, the father or mother of the young lady should oblige her to return the present. This has been done.

There are ladies who keep themselves supplied with certain articles of finery, (for instance, white kid gloves,) by laying ridiculous wagers with gentlemen, knowing that, whether winning or losing, the gentleman, out of gallantry, always pays. No lady should ever lay wagers, even with one of her own sex. It is foolish and unfeminine – and no man likes her any the better for indulging in the practice.

Some young ladies, who profess a sort of daughterly regard for certain wealthy old gentlemen, are so kind as to knit purses or work slippers for them, or some other nick-nacks, (provided always that the "dear old man" has a character for generosity,) for they know that he will reward them by a handsome present of some bijou of real value. And yet they may be assured that the kind old gentleman (whom "they mind no more than if he was their pa") sees through the whole plan, knows why the purse was knit, or the slippers worked, and esteems the kind young lady accordingly.

Another, and highly reprehensible way of extorting a gift, is to have what is called a philopena with a gentleman. This very silly joke is when a young lady, in cracking almonds, chances to find two kernels in one shell; she shares them with a beau; which ever first calls out "philopena," on their next meeting, is entitled to receive a present from the other; and she is to remind him of it till he remembers to comply. So much nonsense is often talked on the occasion, that it seems to expand into something of importance; and the gentleman thinks he can do no less, than purchase for the lady something very elegant, or valuable; particularly if he has heard her tell of the munificence of other beaux in their philopenas.

There is great want of delicacy and self-respect in philopenaism, and no lady who has a proper sense of her dignity as a lady will engage in any thing of the sort.

In presenting a dress to a friend whose circumstances are not so affluent as your own, and who you know will gladly receive it, select one of excellent quality, and of a colour that you think she will like. She will feel mortified, if you give her one that is low-priced, flimsy, and of an unbecoming tint. Get an ample quantity, so as to allow a piece to be cut off and laid by for a new body and sleeves, when necessary. And to make the gift complete, buy linen for the body-lining; stiff, glazed muslin for the facings; buttons, sewing-silk, and whatever else may be wanted. This will save her the cost of these things.

When you give a dress to a poor woman, it is far better to buy for her a substantial new one, than to bestow on her an old thin gown of your own. The poor have little leisure to sew for themselves; and second-hand fine clothes last them but a very short time before they are fit only for the rag-bag.

If you are going to have a party, and among your very intimate friends is one whose circumstances will not permit her to incur the expense of buying a handsome new dress for the occasion, and if she has no choice but to stay away, or to appear in a costume very inferior to that of the other ladies, you may (if you can well afford it) obviate this difficulty by presenting her with a proper dress-pattern, and other accessories. This may be managed anonymously, but it will be better to do it with her knowledge. It will be a very gratifying mark of your friendship; and she ought to consider it as such, and not refuse it from a feeling of false pride. Of course, it will be kept a secret from all but yourselves. In the overflow of gratitude she may speak of it to others, but for you to mention it would be ungenerous and indelicate in the extreme. We are glad to say that ladies of fortune often make gifts of party-dresses to their less-favoured friends.

In sending a present, always pay in advance the expense of transmitting it, so that it may cost nothing at all to the receiver. You may send by the Mail a package of any size, weighing not more than four pounds, paying the postage yourself at the office from whence it goes. It will then be delivered at the door of your friend, without further charge.

CHAPTER XV.

CONVERSATION

Conversation is the verbal interchange of thoughts and feelings. To form a perfect conversationist, many qualifications are requisite. There must be knowledge of the world, knowledge of books, and a facility of imparting that knowledge; together with originality, memory, an intuitive perception of what is best to say, and best to omit, good taste, good temper, and good manners. An agreeable and instructive talker has the faculty of going "from gay to grave, from lively to serene," without any apparent effort; neither skimming so slightly over a variety of topics as to leave no impression of any, or dwelling so long upon one subject as to weary the attention of the hearers. Persons labouring under a monomania, such as absorbs their whole mind into one prevailing idea, are never pleasant or impressive talkers. They defeat their own purpose by recurring to it perpetually, and rendering it a perpetual fatigue. A good talker should cultivate a temperance in talking; so as not to talk too much, to the exclusion of other good talkers. Conversation is dialogue, not monologue. It was said of Madame de Stael that she did not converse, but delivered orations.

To be a perfect conversationist, a good voice is indispensable – a voice that is clear, distinct, and silver-toned. If you find that you have a habit of speaking too low, "reform it altogether." It is a bad one; and will render your talk unintelligible.

Few things are more delightful than for one intelligent and well-stored mind to find itself in company with a kindred spirit – each understanding the other, catching every idea, and comprehending every allusion. Such persons will become as intimate in half an hour, as if they had been personally acquainted for years.

On the other hand, the pleasure of society is much lessened by the habit in which many persons indulge, of placing themselves always in the opposition, controverting every opinion, and doubting every fact. They talk to you as a lawyer examines a witness at the bar; trying to catch you in some discrepancy that will invalidate your testimony; fixing their scrutinizing eyes upon your face "as if they would look you through," and scarcely permitting you to say, "It is a fine day," without making you prove your words. Such people are never popular. Nobody likes perpetual contradiction, especially when the subject of argument is of little or no consequence. In young people this dogmatic practice is generally based upon vanity and impertinence. In the old it is prompted by pride and selfishness. We doubt if in the present day the talk and manners of Johnson would have been tolerated in really good society.

Unless he first refers to it himself, never talk to a gentleman concerning his profession; at least do not question him about it. For instance, you must not expect a physician to tell you how his patients are affected, or to confide to you any particulars of their maladies. These are subjects that he will discuss only with their relatives, or their nurses. It is also very improper to ask a lawyer about his clients, or the cases in which he is employed. A clergyman does not like always to be talking about the church. A merchant, when away from his counting-house, has no wish to engage in business-talk with ladies; and a mechanic is ever willing "to leave the shop behind him." Every American is to be supposed capable of conversing on miscellaneous subjects; and he considers it no compliment to be treated as if he knew nothing but what the Scotch call his "bread-winner." Still, there are some few individuals who like to talk of their bread-winner. If you perceive this disposition, indulge them, and listen attentively. You will learn something useful, and worth remembering.

Women who have begun the world in humble life, and have been necessitated to give most of their attention to household affairs, are generally very shy in talking of housewifery, after their husbands have become rich, and are living in style, as it is called. Therefore, do not annoy them by questions on domestic economy. But converse as if they had been ladies always.

Lord Erskine, having lived a bachelor to an advanced age, finally married his cook, by way of securing her services, as she had frequently threatened to leave him. After she became Lady Erskine she lost all knowledge of cookery, and it was a mortal affront to hint the possibility of her knowing how any sort of eatable should be prepared for the table.

Never remind any one of the time when their situation was less genteel, or less affluent than at present, or tell them that you remember their living in a small house, or in a remote street. If they have not moral courage to talk of such things themselves, it is rude in you to make any allusion to them.

On the other hand, if invited to a fashionable house, and to meet fashionable company, it is not the time or place for you to set forth the comparative obscurity of your own origin, by way of showing that you are not proud. If you are not proud, it is most likely that your entertainers may be, and they will not be pleased at your ultra-magnanimity in thus lowering yourself before their aristocratic guests. These communications should be reserved for tête-à-têtes with old or familiar friends, who have no more pride than yourself.

When listening to a circumstance that is stated to have actually occurred to the relater, even if it strikes you as being very extraordinary, and not in conformity to your own experience, it is rude to reply, "Such a thing never happened to me." It is rude because it seems to imply a doubt of the narrator's veracity; and it is foolish, because its not having happened to you is no proof that it could not have happened to any body else. Slowness in belief is sometimes an evidence of ignorance, rather than of knowledge. People who have read but little, travelled but little, and seen but little of the world out of their own immediate circle, and whose intellect is too obtuse to desire any new accession to their own small stock of ideas, are apt to think that nothing can be true unless it has fallen under their own limited experience. Also, they may be so circumstanced that nothing in the least out of the common way is likely to disturb the still water of their pond-like existence.

A certain English nobleman always listens incredulously when he hears any person descanting on the inconveniences of travelling on the continent, and relating instances of bad accommodations and bad fare; uncomfortable vehicles, and uncomfortable inns; the short beds and narrow sheets of Germany; the slow and lumbering diligence-riding of France; the garlicky stews of Spain with a feline foundation; the little vine-twig fires in the chilly winters of Northern Italy; and various other ills, which the flesh of travellers is heir to; – the duke always saying, "Now really I never experienced any of these discomforts, much as I have traversed the continent. None of these inconveniences ever come in my way." And how should they, when, being a man of enormous wealth, he always travels with a cavalcade of carriages; a retinue of servants; a wagon-load of bedding and other furniture; a cook, with cooking-utensils, and lots of luxurious eatables to be cooked at stopping-places – his body-coach (as it is called) being a horse-drawn palace. What inconveniences can possibly happen to him?

When you hear a gentleman speak in praise of a lady whom you do not think deserving of his commendations, you will gain nothing by attempting to undeceive him; particularly if she is handsome. Your dissenting from his opinion he will, in all probability, impute to envy, or ill-nature; and therefore the only impression you can make will be against yourself.

Even if you have reason to dislike the lady, recollect that few are without some good points both of person and character. And it will be much better for you to pass over her faults in silence, and agree with him in commending what is really commendable about her. What he would, perhaps, believe implicitly if told to him by a man, he would attribute entirely to jealousy, or to a love of detraction if related by a woman. Above all, if a gentleman descants on the beauty of a lady, and in your own mind you do not coincide with his opinion, refrain, on your part, from criticizing invidiously her face and figure, and do not say that "though her complexion may be fine, her features are not regular;" that "her nose is too small," or "her eyes too large," or "her mouth too wide." Still less disclose to him the secret of her wearing false hair, artificial teeth, or tinging her cheeks with rouge. If she is a bold, forward woman, he will find that out as soon as yourself, and sooner too, – and you may be sure that though he may amuse himself by talking and flirting with her, he in reality regards her as she deserves.