The Mentor

The author of “Social Etiquette of New York” settles a question of some moment, quite to her satisfaction, and also, I am willing to believe, to the satisfaction of the ladies generally, in this wise: “Now, just at this point arises a question that has long been in dispute, and it may as well be settled at once: ‘Which side of the stairway, the rail or the wall, should be accorded to a lady?’

“It has been discussed by gentlemen, as if it were a matter for them to decide, which it is not, by any means. Such ladies as have been given their choice have invariably said: ‘Permit me to take your left arm with my right hand, and it does not matter whether it is wall or rail that I am nearest in going up or down stairs. I can better care for myself than you can care for me.’

“Sometimes the turning or curving of the staircase so narrows the steps on the rail side as to make them dangerous to heedless feet. In such a case a lady must cling to the arm of her escort, or else clasp the rail with her fresh and tightly-fitting gloves, which last she is never willing to do if she can avoid it.

“Of course a gentleman cannot always wait to examine the architectural peculiarities of a staircase before he decides which arm will best satisfy the lady whom he desires to benefit. He is safe in offering her his left. If she declines assistance, she will choose which part of the stairs she likes best to ascend, and the gentleman will precede her by two or three steps. On going down, he is always slightly in advance of her. This arrangement settles the question satisfactorily to the ladies, and gentlemen have really no right to a choice in this matter.”

“Oftener than otherwise,” says “Social Etiquette,” “the lady of to-day does not lean upon the arm of her escort, but advances into the salon unassisted. Indeed, the ancient custom is falling into disuse in our fashionable society.

“The lady precedes the gentleman by a step or two, when entering or passing out from an apartment, provided she does not retain his arm. In the highest circles of France, the lady enters several steps in advance of the gentleman at a formal reception. Our custom of precedence is not quite so pronounced as that.”

If you leave a ball, or party of any kind, before the music ceases, do it as quietly as possible, in order that your going may not be observed by others and so break up the party. If you meet the hostess on your way out take leave of her in such a manner that other guests may not observe you. As for looking for her it is quite unnecessary.

Party calls, as they are termed —i. e., calls to recognize the obligation for having been honored with an invitation – are made on the hostess on her first regular reception day after the entertainment, whether you were at it or not. If she has no regular reception day, then a call should be made, or cards left, within, at the farthest, ten days.

Though a man may take no great pleasure in card-playing, it is very desirable that he should be able to play those games that are most played in society – in this country, whist and euchre for example. A man should go into society as much to make himself useful as in search of amusement. If a fourth hand is wanted at a rubber, he should be able not only to take it, but to acquit himself fairly well.

In general society, the card-table is generally reserved for elderly people, who always take precedence over the young.

Husband and wife should not play in the same table, except where the company is so small that it cannot be avoided. The supposition is that they are so well acquainted with each other’s mode of playing that they would have an unfair advantage. Then again, married people go into society to exchange civilities with others and not with themselves.

Never, under any circumstances, cheat or wilfully violate the rules of the game. To do either is to be guilty of a species of buffoonery.

Never lose your temper at the card-table. You should not play unless you can bear ill-luck with composure, and can pass over any blunders your partner may make with serenity.

Unless you are playing with familiars, do not urge any one to play faster. The patient man is never uncivil.

Some ungallant monster has said that women have only two passions, love and avarice, and that, though the latter ill-becomes them, yet it is so strong that they can rarely conceal it at the card-table. For this reason, he adds, it is always painful to see them play when there is any stake.

As a rule in good society, in this country, no stake is played for, and when there is – here as elsewhere – it is understood that though one does play with money one does not play for money.

When the cards are being dealt by another, keep your hands out of the way, and do not touch your cards until all have been dealt.

In playing, throw your cards down quietly, and not violently, after the fashion of the card-players one sees in lager-beer saloons.

“The new etiquette regarding costume at places of amusement began only lately to shape itself into formality in New York. It is now considered quite proper for a gentleman to attend an opera in a matinée suit, provided seats have been taken elsewhere than in a box, but he is limited in his visits between the acts to such of his acquaintances as are also in demi-toilet, unless he goes to the foyer to chat with promenaders.

“If a gentleman is in full dress, he may visit everywhere in the house, but he will not seat himself in the orchestra or in the dress circle, because his toilet will appear out of harmony with the soberer garments about him.”

Thus wrote the author of “Social Etiquette of New York,” in 1878, and yet the fact is that there are many men in New York that are in the habit of wearing full dress at all our better theatres on all “first nights,” no matter where their seats may be, and always when they go to the theatre accompanied by ladies. Thus we see that opinions in this matter differ materially. To the writer it seems that a morning suit – black frock coat and dark trousers – is fully as appropriate as full dress on all occasions where the ladies are not expected to be in full dress, which they are not in any of our parquets or dress circles. There is something sorely incongruous in the picture presented by a lady in a sober, high-necked gown and an extensive hat seated beside a man in a swallow-tailed coat, a low-cut waistcoat and a white necktie. And then does it not look very much as though he had no demi-toilet suit with which to make his appearance correspond with that of the lady?

“Social Etiquette” says further: “He may properly wear gloves when he is not in full dress, as this slight formality of attire is in keeping with the style of his costume. If he wears a dress coat and an evening necktie, it is permissible for him to appear without gloves.”

For several years gloves were little worn by men, especially with full dress, even at dancing-parties and balls, but of late the wearing of gloves, particularly at parties and balls, is the rule rather than the exception. An ungloved man certainly never looks dressed. From present indications gloves will soon be as generally worn as they ever have been.

A gentleman inviting a lady to go with him to an entertainment, theatrical, musical, or whatever it may be, should take care to do so betimes, and also in case full dress will be necessary to let her know it. This is a consideration that often has great weight with a lady in deciding whether she shall accept or not.

Unless a lady is in full dress, or the weather is bad, it is not generally deemed necessary, in the cities at least, to provide a carriage. Women of the best sort do not like to see men put themselves to any expense that is not really demanded when they offer them a civility, no matter what their circumstances may be. It is economy and not lavishness that commands respect, among sensible people, the world over. The vulgar synonym for ostentation, remember, is splurge.

You should always try to be in your seat before an entertainment begins, and if, unavoidably, you are late, you should await a fitting time to go to it. There are many thoughtless, inconsiderate, stupid people that if they chance to arrive during the progress of the best scene in a play, or during the singing of the finest aria in an opera, will immediately go to their seats, though in doing so they disturb the whole house, artists and all. If you arrive late and there are any back seats unoccupied take them temporarily, and if there are none unoccupied remain standing until you can go to your seats without disturbing any one. You have no more right to disturb others at a place of amusement than you have to pick their pockets, for when you disturb them you rob them of a part of that for which they have paid their money.

In finding the way to seats, the gentleman should precede the lady, if there is no usher; if there is an usher, the lady should precede the gentleman. The lady always takes the inner seat.

If it is necessary to pass others to reach your seats, turn the face and not the back to those you pass.

If your seats are easy of access and your companion has gentlemen acquaintances in the audience, you need not fear that she will upbraid you for leaving her two or three times in the course of the evening, during the pauses, in order to give them an opportunity to visit her. Nothing delights the female heart more than to have a bevy of gentlemanly-looking men gather about her in public. If she has no acquaintances to visit her, she should not be left alone more than once during the evening, and then not for more than a few minutes.

At a place of amusement you should never relinquish your seat in favor of a lady, unless she is a friend of your companion, or is aged or infirm, and not then without first getting your companion’s consent.

Considerate persons never talk so loud at a place of amusement as to disturb others, and none but snobs ever make remarks about a performance in a tone that can be heard by those in their neighborhood. We sometimes encounter a kind of snobbishness in play-houses and concert-halls that is much given to talking to its companions and at those sitting near. It often belongs to persons that have “done” many lands, glancing at the outside of many houses and seeing the inside of a few.

If you would eat candy, oranges, apples, or nuts or anything else at the theatre, you would do well to go to the gallery. There the eating of fruit and sweetmeats is much less likely to attract attention than in other parts of the house, where you would generally find yourself surrounded by persons that are strongly opposed to munching at places of amusement.

There are many men in this country – but not in Europe – that seem to think it beneath their dignity to applaud at a place of amusement. It is never beneath any man’s dignity to recognize the obligation when another exerts himself to please him. Applause is the only way the auditor has of testifying his appreciation of a performer’s efforts and skill. Nor is this all. There is a selfish reason why the auditor should applaud: without this kind of encouragement no performer, no matter how great his experience, can do his best. Intelligent applause is no small part of the return an actor or singer gets for his exertions. Gratitude and recognition are two of the sweetest things in life, and the lack of them makes more misanthropes than everything else put together.

Finally, if you remain to the end of a performance, remain indeed to the end – remain in your seat and remain quiet until the last word has been spoken, or the last note has been sung. Be not one of those unbred persons that when the end approaches begin to make ready to go, or perhaps get up and push past others, disturbing everybody in the house, players as well as auditors, in their selfish haste to reach the door. I repeat: You have no more right to disturb others at a place of amusement than you have to pick their pockets, for when you disturb others you rob them of a part of that for which they have paid their money.

If you pass through a door that is closed, leave it closed.

If you pass through a door that has a spring on it, see that it does not slam.

If your feet are muddy, find some means of cleaning them before you pass through anybody’s door.

If you pretend to wash your hands, wash them; do not simply wet them, and then wipe the dirt off on the towel.

If you visit beer-saloons or oyster-saloons, do not copy the phraseology of the waiters; the men that do it are never men of refined instincts. Never cry out “eins,” after the fashion of the waiters in beer-saloons, nor “one,” or “a stew,” or “a fry,” as the waiters do in oyster-saloons.

If you would be worthy to live among well-bred, right-thinking people you will always consider the interest, respect the rights, and study the comfort of others. For example, if you visit a reading-room where the aim is so to keep the newspapers that any particular one can be easily found, you will always be careful to put those you read back in their proper places; you will never scratch a match on anybody’s wall or woodwork; you will never spit on anybody’s floor, whether carpeted or not; you will never walk over the upholstered seats of a place of amusement, and so on. The doing or the leaving undone of little things is a sure index of a man’s breeding or of his lack of it.

If you would preserve your health, never drink anything but water between meals.

If you would preserve your good name, keep away from bar-rooms.

If you would preserve your self-respect, keep away from bar-rooms.

If you would preserve your good manners, keep away from bar-rooms.

If you would preserve your good looks, keep away from bar-rooms.

If you would keep out of the clutches of the devil, keep away from bar-rooms.

CONVERSATION

The first rule of speaking well is to think well. – Mme. de Lambert.

Attention is a tacit and continual compliment. – Mme. Swetchine.

Gravity is a stratagem invented to conceal the poverty of the mind. – La Rochefoucauld.

To discuss an opinion with a fool is like carrying a lantern before a blind man. – De Gaston.

To use many circumstances ere you come to matter is wearisome; and to use none at all is blunt. – Bacon.

That is the happiest conversation where there is no competition, no vanity, but only a calm, quiet interchange of sentiment. – Johnson.

If you your lipsWould keep from slips,Five things observe with care:Of whom you speak,To whom you speak,And how, and when, and where.If you your earsWould save from jeers,These things keep meekly hid:Myself and I,And mine and my,And how I do or did.

Though there are not many persons that seem to think so, still it is true that the value of no other accomplishment can be compared with that of a thorough knowledge of one’s mother tongue, be that tongue what it may. The most of us do more or less talking in the course of every one of our waking hours, and we impress those that hear us, favorably or unfavorably – as far as our culture is concerned – according to the manner in which we express ourselves. The tones of the voice, the construction of our sentences, the choice of our words, and the manner in which we pronounce and articulate them – all have their influence in impressing, either favorably or unfavorably, even the most unlettered. How desirable then it is that we should cultivate the graces of speech, which are first among the rudiments of the Art of Conversation!

“There is a part of our education,” says a clever English writer, “so important and so neglected in our schools and colleges, that it cannot be too highly impressed on the young man that proposes to enter society. I mean the part that we learn first of all things, yet often have not learned well when death eases us of the necessity – the art of speaking our own language. In every-day life the value of Greek and Latin, French and German is small, when compared with that of English. We are often encouraged to raise a laugh at Doctor Syntax and the tyranny of grammar, but we may be certain that many misunderstandings arise from a want of grammatical precision.

“There is no society without interchange of thought, and since the best society is that in which the best thoughts are interchanged in the best and most comprehensible manner, it follows that A PROPER MODE OF EXPRESSING OURSELVES IS INDISPENSABLE IN GOOD SOCIETY.”

“The commonest thought well put,” says another English writer, “is more useful, in a social point of view, than the most brilliant idea jumbled out. What is well expressed is easily seized, and therefore readily responded to; the most poetic fancy may be lost to the hearer if the language that conveys it is obscure. Speech is the gift that distinguishes man from the lower animals and makes society possible. He has but a poor appreciation of his privilege as a human being who neglects to cultivate ‘God’s great gift of speech.’”

“The manner in which things are said,” says a French philosopher, “is almost as important as the things themselves. For one man that judges you by your thought there are twenty that judge you by the manner in which your thought is presented. Not only should your words be well chosen, but your bearing should be self-possessed and the tones of your voice agreeable.”

M. L. H., in Lippincott’s Magazine for February, 1883, writes very instructively on the art of conversation as follows: “How seldom it is that one enjoys the pleasure of a real conversation, taking the word to mean something more than the casual chat of calling acquaintances, and something different from the confidential intercourse of familiar friends!

“There is no pastime more delightful in its way than the leisurely talk of a company of congenial persons met for the simple enjoyment of one another’s society, the agreeable interchange of ideas and sentiments, and it would seem that this pleasure should be an easily attainable one. As a matter of fact, however, the entertainment is not so cheap and easy to be had as might be supposed.

“It is a privilege restricted mostly to the dwellers in our larger cities, where, although social life may have a tendency to form itself into separate circles, yet each of these has a circumference great enough to include a sufficient number of persons disposed to draw together by natural affinities. In our smaller provincial cities and towns there is, generally speaking, nothing that can be called society, and conversation is not a lost art, but an art unknown. In such places as these the hostess who should offer her guests no other entertainment than the conversation of their equals would, I fear, be thought to provide for them but badly. If this be true, it certainly is a reflection upon those who compose this provincial society so called: it seems to argue a lack of brains, culture, and social tact, when the result of their gathering together is only a common boredom.

“Yet, on second thoughts, this inability to make conversation a mutually agreeable thing has its partial explanation in the circumstances of the case. Each unit of the small provincial whole lives in a narrow round of his own; his occupations and interests are necessarily much the same as those of his neighbor, and it is not possible for either of them to bring anything very novel or amusing by way of contribution to the social repast. The daily life of the resident of a large city is, by comparison, infinitely varied and full of incident; he dines to-day with B. and meets C. and D., but to-day is not the simple repetition of yesterday, for then it was A. that entertained him, and the guests were E. and F.

“Doubtless there is an ideal of conversation that is not commonly realized. It implies the gathering together of a certain – not too large – number of men and women, each of whom is both able and willing to play his individual part. It does not need the possession of brilliant gifts in every member, nor even in any one member of the company; it needs only a fair amount of intelligence and culture, and of that ready perception of the drift and meaning of the words of others, which may be called a sort of intellectual tact. ‘The whole force of conversation,’ it has been said, ‘depends upon how much you can take for granted. Vulgar chess-players have to play the game out.’

“More than anything else, conversation implies individual self-abnegation, the putting out of sight of large egotisms and small vanities, and contentment with one’s due share of attention only. There need not be agreement of opinion, but there must be mutual tolerance.

“It also implies individual responsibility and the obligation of every one to give of his best. Intellectual sloth has no place at the feast of reason.

“One need not shine in the talk, but one must at least be able to listen intelligently.

“How much of the charm of words lies in the manner in which they are spoken! Our thoughts and sentiments have not one mode of expression, but a hundred; the tone of the voice interprets the meaning of the word, the glance and the smile soften or intensify it.

“Conversation is seldom so agreeable as around a dinner-table of the right size, where the talk is general and lively without confusion. At a large gathering, where the company inevitably breaks up into groups, conversation may flourish more or less brightly, but never quite so well as where the guests are few and congenial and form but a single circle.

“I often wonder why it is that there is such difficulty in getting people to unite in making the talk general. Some perverse instinct seems to drive them to split apart; the force of repulsion is stronger than that of attraction; six or eight persons are engaged in four duets, and, if the talk begins to flag between numbers one and two, nothing better occurs to them than to exchange partners with three and four and raise a distracting cross-fire. If I want to see a friend alone, it is usually easy to accomplish it; but if I try to hold a pleasant conversation with three or four other friends at the same time, they too often appear to conspire together to defeat my wish.”

If one would have an agreeable manner in conversation, there are certain things that must be attended to:

1. One must cultivate repose. The man that fidgets, tugs at his beard, runs his fingers through his hair, rubs his hands, cracks his finger-joints, grates his teeth, or indulges in much gesticulation, while very likely he sits cross-legged and swings one foot, is never an agreeable person to talk with. This restlessness is always an evidence of weakness. That kind of strength that brings with it a feeling that one is equal to the situation is always accompanied with that quiet self-possession that we call repose.

2. One must avoid interrupting. Always let your interlocutor finish what he has to say. Note the points that you would reply to, and wait patiently till it is your turn to speak. The world is full of ill-bred persons that have the habit of breaking in on the speaker as soon as he says anything they would reply to, or that suggests a thought. Wait, I repeat, and wait patiently and respectfully, as the American Indian always does, till your interlocutor has finished. Men that continually interrupt are always men whose early training was very faulty. With such men conversation is impossible.

3. One must learn to listen. It is not sufficient to keep silent. You should be attentive, seem to be interested and not wear the expression of a martyr. There are those whose mien when they listen seems to say: “Will he ever get through and let me give breath to the words of wisdom!” or, “Poor me, how long will this torture last!” or, “When you get through, I’ll show you in a word or two what nonsense you talk!” Such listeners are generally persons that think their utterances much more heavily freighted with wisdom than other people think them.

4. One must learn not to speak too long at a time. The social monologist is one of the most disagreeable characters one ever meets with. There are two species of them. To the one belong those egotistic, patronizing creatures that seem to take pity on you and do all the talking in order to put you at ease in their august presence. To the other belong those men that talk much and say little; that go over a deal of surface and never get below it; that go round and round, and up and down in search of some way to get at the pith of the matter, until they finally give up the chase in despair. Of the two species, the first is the least tiresome – and the least numerous – as there is always something ludicrous, and consequently amusing, in their coxcombry.