The Mentor

There is no one thing, perhaps, in which the difference between the well-bred man and the ill-bred man more appears than in the manner in which, the place where, and the time when they smoke. The well-bred man does not smoke, nor does he seem to smoke, to show off, whereas the ill-bred man very often smokes in a self-conscious manner that seems to say: “Look at me! see how skilfully my lips hold this cigar; how I can shift it from one side of my mouth to the other without touching it with my fingers, and how well I can articulate with it in my mouth; in short, look you what perfect control I have over my labial muscles, and, having seen, admire!” In short, there are many low-bred young men – very many – that appear to smoke only to display their – imagined – grace and skill, when, in fact, in smoking as they do, where they do, and when they do, they but publish their vulgarity. Such men are certainly not of the sort that Shakespeare accuses of having a “vaulting ambition.” As they smoke chiefly for show, a poor cigar answers their purpose as well as a good one; consequently, they usually buy of the kind that are sold at the rate of two for a cent.

The well-bred man, on the contrary, the gentleman, the man that smokes only for the love of it, puts but as much of his cigar in his mouth as is necessary in order to draw it, keeps it in his mouth no longer than is necessary, and never fails to remove it when he talks, or passes any one toward whom he would be respectful, especially a lady. Further, our best-bred men never smoke in any street at an hour when it is much frequented, nor in any public place where smoking is likely to be offensive to others.

Fortunately, neither “young America” nor “old” is much given to smoking a pipe outside of his own domicile. When we see a pipe in our streets or in public places it is generally in the mouth of either an Englishman, a Canadian, or an Irish hodcarrier.

“Give up to ‘cads’ and ‘snobs’ the practice of smoking in the streets or in a theatre,” says the author of “The Glass of Fashion.”

“Gentlemen never smoke in the streets, except at night,” says another.

“A well-bred man will never pass a lady with a cigar in his mouth, whether he knows her or not, not even in a desert,” says yet another.

From another writer we have: “In the eyes of persons of the best culture, a cigar or a cigarette in a man’s mouth, in public places, vulgarizes his appearance; hence men of the best fashion never smoke in the street, except at night.”

“In England,” says Mrs. Duffey, “a well-bred man never smokes in the street. Are we obliged to say that this rule does not hold in this country, or shall we repeat it with an emphasis on the well bred? At all events, no gentleman will ever insult a lady by smoking in the streets in her company; and in meeting and saluting a lady he will always remove his cigar from his mouth.”

Spitting is one of those things that no man should do, if he can avoid it. If in the street, common decency, it would seem, should prompt a man to go to the gutter if he finds it necessary to spit; and if anywhere else, it should prompt him not to spit on the floor, be the floor carpeted or not. We often see men spit on a carpet, especially in our theatres, but we never see any man spit on a carpet of his own.

Another disagreeable habit is that of going about singing, humming, or whistling. The man that habitually does any one of these things, either in the street – no matter what the hour – in the halls of hotels, as he goes up and down stairs, or in his own apartments, when there is any one within hearing, has the manners of a boor, and deserves the calaboose for disorderly conduct.

Pointing, too, as a habit should be avoided, especially pointing with the thumb over the shoulder, which is a very inelegant action.

Another vulgar habit to be avoided is that of going about with a toothpick in the mouth.

“The ball is the paradise of love,” says an English writer. “In the happy spring-time of life, when the brain is fertile in pleasant fancies, and the heart throbs with unexpressed hopes – when every day brings with it a new pleasure, and every night a new reason for looking forward with joyous anticipation to the morrow – when our energies are as exhaustless as our spirits, and no sense of fatigue or weariness can oppress us, the ball-room becomes an enchanted world of light and music and perfume, into which that ubiquitous ‘black care’ of the Roman poet durst not intrude, where sorrow is never seen, and past and future are forgotten in the innocent intoxications of the present.

“To the young ear, what so delightful as merry music? To the youthful eye, what so attractive as the spectacle of fair forms gracefully revolving in the soft, sweet mazes of the mystic dance? And if we know that ‘at the ball’ we shall meet that ‘other half’ of one’s self – Romeo or Juliet, as the case may be, but Romeo without his melancholy, and Juliet without her tragedy – can it be wondered at that it draws us thither with an irresistible attraction?

“Ah, when the noontide comes, and already the shadows of evening gather over our downward path, how will remembrance bring back to us the days when it was bliss to touch one beloved hand, to take one trusting form in our reverent embrace – when it was joy untold for Romeo and Juliet to tread the painted floor together, and, side by side, to circle round and round to the strains of Strauss or Gung’l! And then, in the pauses of the dance, the brief whisper on the cool balcony or beneath the broad palms of the conservatory! And last of all, the privilege of draping those graceful shoulders with the protecting shawl, and the last sweet pressure of clinging fingers as Juliet passed into the carriage that was to bear her from our wistful gaze!”

If a young man would go into society – and every young man should go into society – and if he learn to dance, as most young men do, he should learn to dance properly. To compass this end, it is of the first importance that he select a good teacher. There are not a few of the dancing-masters nowadays – some of the more fashionable ones, too – that are quite ignorant of the art they pretend to teach. As a natural consequence, their pupils dance badly, if they can be really said to dance at all. They are ungraceful, and do not mark the time, nor make any perceptible distinction between the different round dances, whereas each round dance properly has a distinctive step and movement. In dancing the round dances, in order to dance gracefully, never bend forward, but carry yourself erect, and do not bend in the knees; never put your arm around your partner’s waist farther than is necessary to hold her securely; never extend your left arm à la pump-handle, but keep your left hand, firmly holding the lady’s right, opposite and a little below your left shoulder, and put it nowhere else; never pass around the hall more rapidly than the measure compels you to pass – rapidity is incompatible with grace – and always point with the toe to the floor when the foot is raised. Take short steps, and take them with as little evident muscular exertion as possible. Grace and ease, or seeming ease, are inseparable.

The most popular of the round dances nowadays is a dance that is called a waltz, though it is no more like what we called a waltz twenty-five years ago, nor any more like the only dance the Europeans call a waltz now, than a minuet is like a country break-down. Its popularity is largely, if not wholly, due to the comparative ease with which it is learned. The dancing-masters say that the “old-fashioned” waltz, as it is now called, is too hard to learn; that there are few that can learn to dance it well; that the dancers nowadays care little for grace of movement; that if they are amused they are content, and so on. If the waltz – the genuine waltz – is the most difficult of all the round dances to learn, it is also the most fascinating of them all for the accomplished dancer, and the most pleasing to the looker-on, because of all the round dances its movements are made with the most grace, dignity, precision, and bienséance.

If for no other reason, the waltz – so called – of to-day cannot be danced gracefully on account of the backward movement it demands. He that has never had any æsthetic training in the movements of the body, and especially he that has no innate sense of the graceful may think differently, but this is true nevertheless. Another reason, and a very important one too, that the movements of this dance cannot be made gracefully is because they compel the dancer to carry himself with his shoulders thrown somewhat forward and with the knees a good deal bent – two things that are incompatible with graceful physical action. But perhaps the most serious objection to the waltz of nowadays is the habit of “reversing” that is indulged in by those that dance it. Reversing is simply a barbarism, as those that indulge in it do not and cannot avoid bumping against the other dancers. A man that dances the round dances well, and does not reverse, never runs against anybody; he goes just where he wants to go, and goes nowhere else, and he always wants to go straight around the sides of the hall. The plea of the reverser is that if he turns one way all the time, he gets dizzy. Nonsense! In the days when there was no reversing done, nobody complained of dizziness. If, at first, there is a tendency that way, it soon wears off. There is surely no pleasure in dancing, if one is continually jostled, and as long as reversing is practised, dancers will continue to jostle one another.

No man, of course, can dance the round dances well and gracefully, unless he has a good partner. If he makes the attempt with a lady that does not know the steps, or that seems desirous to rest her head on his shoulder, he will be quite certain not to succeed. Dancers of the round dances should always keep as far apart as the length of the gentleman’s arm will permit, and both should stand erect, with the shoulders well back. To dance otherwise is vulgar in the extreme.

In the round dances, good usage demands that you make frequent pauses, and that you do not race round and round until the music ceases. If you would exhibit your powers of endurance, enter the field as a champion runner.

“I could rave,” says a high English authority, “through three pages about the innocent enjoyment of a good waltz, its grace and beauty, but I will be practical instead, and give you a few hints on the subject.

“The position is the most important point. The lady and gentleman before starting should stand exactly opposite each other, quite upright, and not, as is so common in England, painfully close to each other. If the man’s hand be placed where it should be, at the centre of the lady’s waist, and not all round it, he will have as firm a hold and not be obliged to stoop, or bend to his right. The lady’s head should then be turned a little toward her left shoulder, and her partner’s somewhat less toward his left, in order to preserve the balance. Nothing can be more atrocious than to see a lady lay her head on her partner’s shoulder; she should throw her head and shoulders a little back.

“Russian men undertake to perform in waltzing the same feat as the Austrians in riding, and will dance round the room with a glass of wine in the left hand without spilling a drop. This evenness in waltzing is certainly very graceful, but it can only be obtained by a sliding step that is little practised in England. The pace, again, should not be so rapid as to endanger other couples. The knees should be very little bent in dancing, and the body still less so. I do not know whether it is worse to see a man ‘sit down’ in a waltz, or to find him with his head poked forward over your young wife’s shoulder, hot, red, wild, and in far too close proximity to the partner of your bosom, whom he makes literally the partner of his own.

“The remarks as to the position in waltzing apply to all round dances. The calm ease that marks the man of good taste makes even the swiftest dances graceful and agreeable. Vehemence may be excused at an election but not in a ball-room.

“Dancing, if it is a mere trifle, is one to which great minds have not been ashamed to stoop. Locke, for instance, speaks of it as manly, Plato recommended it, and Socrates learned the Athenian polka of the day, when he was quite an old man, and liked it very much. Some one has even gone so far as to call it ‘the logic of the body;’ and Addison defends himself for making it the subject of a disquisition.”

“Nothing,” says Mr. Cecil B. Hartley, “will give ease of manner and a graceful carriage to a man more surely than the knowledge of dancing. He will, in its practice, acquire easy motion, a light step, and learn to use both hands and feet well. Some people being bashful and afraid of attracting attention in a ball-room or evening party, do not take lessons in dancing, overlooking the fact that it is those who do not take part in the amusement on such occasions, not those who do, that attract attention. To all such men I would say, Learn to dance! You will find dancing one of the very best means for correcting bashfulness.”

This is all very well and very sensible, but the most weighty reason why a man should learn to dance lies in the fact that every man that goes into society should be qualified to take part in society amusements – in short, to do what others do, and to do it well.

Here are some injunctions I find in “The Glass of Fashion:”

“Bear yourself with moderation in the liveliest measure. Some couples go through a waltz as if they were dancing dervishes, and indulge in an abandon that, to say the least, is indecorous.

“Lead your partner through a quadrille; do not haul her. A lady’s waist should be sacred, and there can be no excuse for clasping it as if you wanted to steady yourself by it.

“Dance quietly. Do not go through your steps as if you were a dancing-master; nor move your limbs wildly, as if you were executing an Indian war-dance.

“I am not sure that a man in a dress-coat and black trousers, going through a quadrille or cotillon, can be considered either a noble or a beautiful sight; but I am sure that it is better he should dance as if he knew something about it, than like a country clown who mistakes muscular activity for grace.

“Above all, do not be prone to quarrel in a ball-room; it disturbs the harmony of the company, and should be avoided, if possible. Recollect that a thousand little derelictions from strict propriety may occur through the ignorance or stupidity of the aggressor, and not from any intention to annoy; remember, also, that really well-bred women will not thank you for making them conspicuous by over-officiousness in their defence, unless, indeed, there is a serious violation of decorum. In small matters, ladies are both able and willing to take care of themselves, and would prefer being allowed to overwhelm the unlucky offender in their own way.

“You go to a ball to dance, and not to stand against the wall, or by the door, with the smirk of priggishness on your foolish face, as if the whole thing were a baw, and everybody in the room unworthy of your august notice. If Heaven only ‘gave you to see yourself as others see you,’ rest assured you would adopt no such idiotic conduct.”

“A man who can dance, and will not dance,” says Mrs. Ward, “ought to stay away from a ball. Who has not encountered that especial type of ill-bred man who lounges around doorways or strolls through a suite of rooms, looking as if there were not a creature present worth dancing with!”

“A gentleman of genuine politeness,” says Mrs. Duffey, “will not give all his time and attention to the belles of the evening, but will at least devote a little thought to the wall-flowers who sit forlorn and unattended, and who but for him might have no opportunity to dance.” The wall-flower is a plant found in every ball-room, yet no young lady, no matter how plain and uninteresting she may be, need ever be one. Let her learn to dance well and she will always have partners.

At balls, the right of introducing rests mainly with the ladies and gentlemen of the house, but a chaperone may introduce a gentleman to her charge, and if a man is intimate with a young lady he may ask her permission to introduce a friend.

An invitation to a private ball, like other invitations, should be answered immediately.

The ball demands the fullest of toilets: dress suit, white necktie, stand-up collar, and straw-colored gloves, which look white at night. The gloves should be worn the whole evening, except at supper, after which men that can afford it often put on a fresh pair.

If alone, go from the dressing-room to the ball-room and pay your respects to the host and hostess. If there are young ladies in the family, take the earliest opportunity to speak to them and to ask one of them to dance the first set with you. If she is engaged, you may ask her to dance with you later in the evening, and then you are at liberty to look for a partner among the guests.

In asking a lady to dance with you, if you know her but slightly, or if you have but just been introduced to her, it is sufficient to say: “Shall I, or may I, have the honor, or the pleasure, of dancing the next set with you?” or “Will you honor me with your hand for the next set?” “An applicant for this honor is always careful to recognize the office and authority of the chaperone when making his request. This is considered no more respect than is due to the lady who has kindly undertaken the care of the young lady at a ball.”

At the end of every dance, says an authority, a gentleman should offer his right arm to his partner, and at least take her once around the room before consigning her to her chaperone. Another authority says that a gentleman should return the lady directly to her chaperone as soon as the dance is finished. He may linger here to converse with her, but not elsewhere.

At a ball a gentleman is introduced to a lady only that he may ask her to dance with him – the acquaintance, therefore, rarely goes any farther. Whether it shall or not is entirely optional with the lady. Should they meet afterward, the gentleman will wait for a recognition before he speaks.

Nor should a gentleman that is introduced to a young lady at a ball ask her for more than two dances the same evening. Indeed, the showing of marked preferences in society is always in questionable taste. It is certain that it is in the best circles that we see least of it.

A gentleman taking a lady in to supper should reconduct her to the ball-room; the fact of friends joining her, in the supper-room, would not relieve him of the duty. “While the lady is supping you must stand by and talk to her,” says “The Man in the Club-Window,” “attending to every want, and the most you can take yourself is a glass of champagne when you help her. You then lead her up-stairs again, and if you are not wanted there any more, you may steal down and do a little quiet refreshment on your own account. As long, however, as there are many ladies at the table, you have no right to begin. Nothing marks a man here so much as gorging at supper. Balls are meant for dancing, not for eating.”

In an English work of high authority, entitled “Mixing in Good Society,” I find the following admonitions:

“Never enter a ball-room in other than full evening dress, and white or light kid gloves.

“A gentleman cannot be too careful not to injure a lady’s dress. This he is sure to do if he dances a round dance with her without gloves.”

“The young women of the country,” says Col. Donan, “send forth a huge, universal wail of indignant protest against the ungloved men who persist in leaving their finger-marks on the backs of delicately tinted dresses at fashionable germans, hops and balls. From Cape Cod to Corpus Christi, no dancing party ever takes place that is not followed by a day of lamentation and execration on the part of the unhappy girls who wake from dreams of waltz and galop and quadrille, to find their dainty costumes ruined by the bare-paw prints of men for whose ruthless crime against decency there is no excuse. The fashion of going without gloves originated in the vilest foreign flunkeyism. The Prince of Wales forgot his gloves one evening when he went to the opera, and consequently was compelled to appear with his hands uncovered. The next evening every asinine toady and swell in the theatre showed his hands in native nakedness, and the vulgar apery was promptly caught up on this side of the ocean. Let gentlemen remember that no ungloved man can pretend to be fully dressed.

“It is an affront to a lady to hold her hand behind you, or on your hip, when dancing a round dance.

“Never forget a ball-room engagement. It is the greatest neglect and slight that a gentleman can offer a lady.

“If a lady happens to forget a previous engagement, and stand up with another partner, the gentleman whom she has thus slighted is bound to believe that she has acted from inadvertence, and should by no means suffer his pride to master his good temper. To cause a disagreeable scene in a private ball-room is to affront your host and hostess, and to make yourself absurd. In a public room it is not less reprehensible.

“Always remember that good breeding and good temper – or the appearance of good temper – are inseparably connected.

“However much pleasure a man may take in a lady’s society, he must not ask her to dance too frequently. Engaged persons would do well to bear this in mind. A ball is too formal a place for any one to indulge in personal preferences of any kind.

“Lastly, a gentleman should not go to a ball unless he has previously made up his mind to be agreeable; that is, to dance with the plainest as well as with the most beautiful; to take down an elderly chaperone to supper, instead of her lovely charge, with a good grace; to enter into the spirit of the dance, instead of hanging about the doorway; to abstain from immoderate eating, drinking, or talking; to submit to trifling annoyances with cheerfulness; in fact, to forget himself, and contribute as much as possible to the amusement of others.”

If a gentleman that is invited to a house on the occasion of an entertainment is not acquainted with all the members of the family, his first duty, after speaking to the host and hostess, is to ask some common friend to introduce him to those members that he does not know.

“Though not customary for married persons to dance together in society, those men who wish to show their wives the compliment of such an unusual attention, if they possess any independence, will not be deterred,” says Mrs. Ward, “from doing so by their fear of any comments from Mrs. Grundy.”

“The sooner we recover from the effects of the Puritanical idea that clergymen ought never to be seen at balls, the better for all who attend them,” says Mrs. Ward. “Where it is wrong for a clergyman to go, it is wrong for any member of his church to be seen.”

The sons of a house where an entertainment is given must for that evening refrain from engaging in any flirtations, or from showing in any way their preferences. Nothing is more at variance with good breeding than for them to do otherwise. It is their imperative duty to see that no one is neglected.

A gentleman should not take a vacant seat next to a lady that is a stranger to him, nor next to an acquaintance without first asking her permission.

Always give your partner your undivided attention. To let your eyes wander about the room, or to betray an interest in others, is the reverse of flattering to her.

When you conduct your partner back to her seat, do not remain too long in conversation with her. We go into society to take part in a general interchange of civilities, and not to engage in prolonged tête-à-têtes.

There is a very old injunction that says that you should never wait till the music begins to engage your partner.

Though a gentleman would naturally give special attention to a lady he escorted to a ball, he should leave her every opportunity to accept the attentions of others. Any attempt to monopolize her society, though she were his betrothed, would be thoroughly plebeian. He should call for her punctually, taking a bouquet for her if he chooses, or, better, if the spirit moves him, sending one in the afternoon with his card. Arrived, he leaves her at the door of the ladies’ dressing-room, and himself goes to the gentlemen’s. Having arranged his dress and put on his white kid gloves, he goes and waits at the ladies’ room till his companion appears, when he escorts her to the ball-room. Having exchanged salutations with the hostess, he leads her to a seat. He will dance the first set with her and also another set in the course of the evening. On no account will he dance two sets with her in succession. During the rest of the evening, it is his duty to see that she is not neglected, that she is provided with partners, and with an escort to supper. Finally, he will be ready to conduct her home when she expresses a wish to go, and will personally inquire after her health the next day.