If, before this tacit invitation to retire, other visiters are announced, you should adroitly leave them without saying anything. In case the master of the house, in waiting upon you to the door, should ask you to remain longer, you should briefly reply to him, that an indispensable engagement calls you, and you must entreat him with earnestness not to detain you. You should terminate your visit by briskly shutting the door.
If, on entering the room, you find strangers engaged in conversation, content yourself with the few words which the master or mistress of the house shall address to you; stop only a few moments, make a general salutation, and conduct yourself as in the preceding case. When you have happened to meet the strangers elsewhere, they may unite sometimes with the person you are visiting, to prevent your taking leave; reply in a polite and flattering manner, but still persist in retiring. If while you are present, a letter is brought to the person you are visiting, and she should lay it down without opening it, you must entreat her to read it; she will not do it, and this circ.u.mstance will warn you to shorten your visit.
When you make a half ceremonious call, and the person you are visiting, insists upon your stopping, it is proper to do so, but after a few minutes you should rise to go: if you are urged still further, and are taken by the hands and made to sit down as it were by force, to leave immediately would be impolite, but nevertheless you must, after a short interval, get up a third time, and then certainly retire. If, during your call, a member of the family enters the room, you need not on this account take leave, but content yourself by rising, and saluting the person. If a lady, you must not seat yourself until she sits down; if a gentleman, you can yield to the invitation made you to take your seat, while the other remains standing. If you make a visit with others, there are some points to be observed in relation to your companions. In going up the staircase, it is rigorously the custom to give precedence to those to whom you owe respect, and to yield to such persons the most convenient part of the stairs, which is that next the wall. Above all, do not forget this last caution if you accompany a lady; and a well-bred gentleman, at such a time, should offer his arm. When there are many persons, he should bestow this mark of respect on the oldest. If you meet any one on the staircase, place yourself on the side opposite to the one he occupies. It would be vexatious and out of place to make an everlasting ceremony as to who should be announced first; the preference must be given to ladies; next to them, to age and rank. The time of taking leave should be also determined by ladies, or by aged persons, and those who are of consequence. It would be impolite to wish to retire before they gave the signal. We should add, that it is unsuitable for more than three or four to visit together. Persons of high ton are accompanied even to the ante-room by one or two servants, who receive them again when going out.
To carry children or dogs with one on a visit of ceremony, is altogether vulgar and provincial. Even in half-ceremonious visits, it is necessary to leave one"s dog in the ante-room, as well as the nurse who holds the infant, for this circ.u.mstance alone excuses such a suite. As to animals, it is a thousand times better not to have them at all.
We justly reproach inhabitants of the province for lavishing salutations in meeting people, or in taking leave of them. This custom, which may make us contract a reservedness or too much familiarity, is extremely ridiculous. Is it not difficult to keep one"s countenance, when we see a visiter salute every article of furniture, to turn and turn again twenty times as you conduct him, and pour forth at every pause a volley of salutations and adieus? Our readers will beware of this over politeness; they will salute the first time, at the moment they take leave, and again, when the person who conducts them back shall have stopped at the door. We have before said that when we do not find persons at home, or when we are afraid of disturbing them, we leave a card; but this is not what we call particularly _visits by card_ (_visites par cartes_). In these last visits, it is not our object to see the persons, since we do not ask for them, and we confine ourselves to giving our card to the porter or domestic. This custom, which has been introduced necessarily among persons of very general acquaintance, and especially at times when every one ought to be visited, as on the new-year"s day,--this custom so far is not ridiculous, but it becomes so by the great extent which has been given to it for some time past. This extent consists in making a visit without leaving our apartment; that is to say, merely by sending our card by a domestic, or indeed by means of an agency established for this purpose. The practice of visits by cards, seems to persons of good society the most impertinent and vulgar thing which can be imagined. Do not then permit it, except when the question is about returning visits made in this way; and do not use such retaliations, except to prevent these ill-advised visiters from thinking that you put yourself out to oblige them.
In works devoted to the instruction of the laws of propriety, we think only of fortune and affluence; we entirely forget people of a more modest condition, and when we find ourselves in connexion with them, we cry out against their impoliteness. It is an injustice, and in my opinion, a false calculation. An injustice, because true politeness pertains less to rank, than to uprightness and goodness of heart; a false calculation, for to refuse to initiate people into what renders the social relations easy and agreeable, is to prepare for ourselves collision and vexation, and to r.e.t.a.r.d as much as is in our power, the practice of the forms of civilization.
Despising then this foolish disdain, we shall applaud the great care of persons not in affluence, who, having neither porter nor domestic, place at their door a slate furnished with a pencil, that in their absence visiters may write their names; for these visiters are seldom such as carry cards. We shall applaud the benevolent care of persons whose staircase is not lighted, or whose apartment is in the upper stories, and who leave with the porter a candle which every one who arrives, takes, in order to ascend, and returns it again on descending. If any of our rich readers should be tempted to smile at the announcement of these precautions of the more humble citizens, we would remind them that they are entirely strangers to the spirit of politeness, of which these precautions are a striking example.
This digression naturally leads us to the second part of our task relative to visits, concerning the duties which politeness imposes as to receiving them, for it is not less important to receive people well, than to present ourselves well to them.
Before pa.s.sing to this important subject, it would seem my duty to finish what remains for me to say concerning visits, by the mention of visits of audience, of congratulation, of condolence, and of repast; but except the first, to which I am going to devote a few words, details of all the others will be found in the chapters devoted to conversation, to formalities of repasts, of mourning, &c.
We should not merely call upon ministers, heads of the public administration, and very distinguished persons; we must beforehand request of them by writing a place of meeting and must specify the object of our visit. We must call upon them at the appointed hour; we must abstain from inquiring after their health, and observe strictly the obligations of decorum. These visits, which are the acme of ceremony, ought necessarily to be very short.
We shall see, in the chapter on _Epistolary Propriety_, what t.i.tles are proper to be given to these important personages. It is well to be furnished with a letter of admission, that in case of necessity we may show it to the servant.
CHAPTER III.
_Of the Manner of Receiving Visitors._
To receive visitors with ease and elegance, and in such a manner that everything in you, and about you, shall partake of propriety and grace, to endeavor that people may always be satisfied when they leave you, and desirous to come again,--such are the obligations of the master, and especially of the mistress of a house.
Everything in the house, ought, as far as possible, to offer English _comfort_, and French grace. Perfect order, exquisite neatness and elegance which easily dispenses with being sumptuous, ought to mark the entrance of the house, the furniture and the dress of the lady.
In a house where affluence abounds, it is indispensable to have a drawing-room, for it is troublesome and in bad _ton_ to receive visits in a lodging-room, at one"s own dwelling. This may indeed do for a mere call; but it becomes almost ridiculous when, after dinner, it is necessary to pa.s.s into this room to take coffee, if you are receiving a small company, &c. This custom is not any longer adopted, except in the provincial towns and among persons who do not pride themselves on their good _ton_.
To receive company in a dining-room, is not allowed except among those persons who cannot bear the expense of furnishing a parlor or drawing-room. Simplicity, admitted into an apartment of this kind, suited to the smallness of their means, we cannot but approve, while we regret nevertheless, the disagreeable things to which such a residence subjects them. But we have, in this respect, an express warning to make to people who give themselves up to it unnecessarily, for it is altogether opposed to the received usages of good society to put yourselves in a situation which you cannot adorn, where you cannot place arm-chairs, a chimney-piece, a gla.s.s, a clock, and all things useful to persons who come to see you; where you are exposed to receiving twenty visits during dinner; of seeing as many interruptions during the setting of your table, since it is impossible to spread the cloth while strangers remain; finally, of making them witnesses of your domestic cares while removing the remains of a repast, the table-cloth, dishes, &c.
Young mothers of families who wish to have with them their children, (troublesome guests, in a drawing-room, as every one knows,) think that they may remain in the dining-room, and have strangers conducted into an adjacent apartment. That this may not be inconvenient, it is necessary to observe three things; first, that strangers be admitted into this apartment before seeing the mistress of the house, because they would not fail to create difficulties, by saying that they did not wish to disturb her; second, that the apartment be constantly warmed in winter; third, that in summer it should be furnished precisely as an occupied chamber, for nothing is worse than to conduct people into a room which seems to be to let.
Unless from absolute inability, you ought to light your staircase. If the practices of good domestic economy regulated by the cares of civilization, were more generally extended, a staircase not lighted would not often be found.
After having thus cast a rapid glance into the interior of the house, let us see in what manner it is necessary to receive visitors.
When we see any one enter, whether announced or not, we rise immediately, advance toward them, request them to sit down, avoiding however the old form of, "_Take the trouble to be seated_." If it is a young man, we offer him an arm-chair, or a stuffed one; if an elderly man, we insist upon his accepting the arm-chair; if a lady, we beg her to be seated upon the ottoman. If the master of the house receives the visitors, he will take a chair and place himself at a little distance from them; if, on the contrary, it is the mistress of the house, and if she is intimate with the lady who visits her, she will place herself near her. If several ladies come at a time, we give this last place to the one most distinguished by rank. In winter, the most honorable places are those at the corner of the fire-place; in proportion as they place you in front of the fire, your seat is considered inferior in rank.
Moreover, when it happens to be a respectable married lady, and one to whom we wish to do honor, we take her by the hand and conduct her to the corner of the fire-place. If this place is occupied by a young lady, she ought to rise and offer her seat to the other lady, taking for herself a chair in the middle of the circle.
A mistress of a house ought to watch anxiously that they experience no restraint before her; consequently, she will take care to present screens to the ladies seated in front of the fire; she will move under their feet tabourets, or what is better, pads, (coussins) but never foot-stoves. If she is alone with an intimate acquaintance, she will request her to take hers, but she will never extend this politeness to a gentleman.
If a door or window happens to be open in the room in summer time, we should ask of visitors, if it incommodes them.
If a lady who receives a half ceremonious visit is sewing, she ought to leave off immediately, and not resume it except at the request of the visitor. If they are on quite intimate terms, she ought herself to request permission to continue. If a person visits in an entirely ceremonious way, it would be very impolite to work even an instant.
Moreover, even with friends, we should hardly be occupied with our work, but should seem to forget it on their account.
In proportion as the visitor is a stranger, the master or mistress of the house rises, and any persons who may be already there are obliged to do the same. Some of them then withdraw; in this case, if the master and the mistress of the house have with them any persons of their family, after having conducted as far as the door those who are going, they request one of their relations to take their place. If the case be otherwise, it is necessary to choose between the persons who remain and those who retire. If the latter are superior in rank, age or consideration, we must give them the preference, and _vice versa_. But however respectable the person be who departs, we may dispense with conducting them farther than the door of the room.
The manner in which we should usually re-conduct visitors is regulated in an invariable manner. If it is a lady who is to be accompanied, the master of the house takes her hand, pa.s.ses it under his arm, and thus leads her as far as the bottom of the staircase, unless the steps be so narrow that two cannot go abreast. It is no longer the custom to give the hand to ladies, but to offer them the arm. This new custom does not at all change the ancient rule of propriety which requires that in descending a staircase, we should give the side next the wall to the lady whom we accompany; we commonly present to her the right arm, provided however, that necessity does not oblige us, in order to avoid placing her next the bal.u.s.trade, to offer the left. If she is to return in a carriage, we should politely hand her into it.
In the provincial towns, they conduct all or almost all visitors, as far as the street door, unless they are gentlemen and have visited a lady.
She ought then to accompany them, as is always done in Paris, that is to say, as far as the door of the room, or the head of the stairs.
Parisians add to this custom an agreeable civility; they hold the door open, and standing upon the threshold or edge of the staircase, follow with their eyes the visitor until he turns round to make the last salutation or adieu, or to request the host to return.
We no longer practice that frank and open hospitality of the provinces, by virtue of which, in the middle of winter, we request people to _refresh_ themselves with some solid eatables. Such a proposal would now excite a smile. We do not make any such offer to visitors, but under these circ.u.mstances. First, during very hot weather, we invite them to take a gla.s.s of syrup, or of iced water. Second, if any one is reading, we offer him _eau sucree_, that is, the little household article to which we have given that name. Third, we offer orange flower water to a lady who happens to be suddenly indisposed. Excepting these cases, we make no offer of this kind. If any one wishes to refresh himself, he requests the mistress of the house to allow him to ring the bell. After a.s.sent is given, he asks of the domestic who comes, whatever he desires.
CHAPTER IV.
_Of the Carriage of the Body._
The carriage of the body seems so simple, so common, and so easy a thing, that undoubtedly on seeing this t.i.tle, many readers will think I design to send them back to _puerile_ and _plain civility_. But if they will take the pains to reflect upon the numberless violations of propriety in the carriage of the body, of which they are daily witnesses; if they will call to the mind the many strange motions, ridiculous gestures, pretending att.i.tudes, affected looks, and clownish movements; if they will recollect that the carriage of the body ought to be in perfect harmony with the situation, age, mind and s.e.x, and a distinguishing trait of the physiognomy; if they will consider the unfavorable prejudices to which a disdainful, immodest, or vulgar deportment give rise, they will understand my anxiety in this respect.
It is without doubt impossible to notice all faults in the carriage of the body. This volume would not be sufficient for it; we must be satisfied therefore with designating the princ.i.p.al ones.
To look steadily at any one, especially if you are a lady and are speaking to a gentleman; to turn the head frequently on one side and the other during conversation; to balance yourself upon your chair; to bend forward; to strike your hands upon your knees; to hold one of your knees between your hands locked together; to cross your legs; to extend your feet on the andirons; to admire yourself with complacency in a gla.s.s; to adjust in an affected manner your cravat, hair, dress, handkerchief; to remain without gloves; to fold carefully your shawl, instead of throwing it with graceful negligence upon a table, &c.; to fret about a hat which you have just left off; to laugh immoderately; to place your hand upon the person with whom you are conversing; to take him by the b.u.t.tons, the collar of his coat, the cuffs, the waist, &c.; to seize ladies by the waist, or to touch their person; to roll the eyes, or to raise them with affectation; to take snuff from the box of your neighbor, or to offer it to strangers, especially to ladies; to play continually with the seals of your watch, a chain, or a fan; to beat time with the feet and hands; to whirl round a chair on one leg; to shake with your feet the chair of your neighbor; to stroke your face; rub your hands continually; wink your eyes; shrug up your shoulders; stamp with your feet, &c.;--all these bad habits, of which we ought never to speak to people, among those who are witnesses of them, and are in the highest degree displeasing.
The carriage of the body is as expressive as the tone of voice, and perhaps more so, because it is more constant; it betrays to the observer all the shades of character, and we ought to be very careful of thus making a general confession, by affected manners, a pretending deportment, sneering ways, rough movements, a hard countenance, impertinent signs and looks, simpering smiles, clownish gestures, a nonchalant and effeminate posture, or a carriage of the body distinguished by prudery and stiffness.
Young ladies, and very young men little habituated to the world, ought to be on their guard against excessive timidity, for it not only paralyzes their powers, renders them awkward, and gives them an almost silly air, but it may even cause them to be accused of pride, among people who do not know that embarra.s.sment frequently takes the form of superciliousness. How often does it happen that timid persons do not salute you at all, answer in a low voice, or very ill, omit a thousand little duties of society, and fail in a numberless agreeable attentions, for want of courage? These attentions, and these duties, they discharge in _petto_, but who will thank them for it? A proper degree of confidence, but not degenerating into a.s.surance, still less into boldness or familiarity, is then one of the most desirable qualities in the world. To obtain which, we most observe the _ton_, and the manners of polite and benevolent people, take them for our guides, and, under their direction, make continual efforts to conquer our timidity.
Propriety in the carriage of the body is especially indispensable to ladies. It is by this that, in a walk, a ball, or any a.s.sembly, people who cannot converse with them, judge of their merit and their good education. How many dancers move off, and how many persons sigh with pity, at the sight of a beautiful woman who has a mincing way, affects grace, inclines her head affectedly, and who seems to admire herself incessantly, and to invite others to admire her also. Who ever makes up his mind to enter into conversation with an immovable lady, and one who is formal and precise, lengthening out the body, pressing the lips, and carrying back the elbows as if they were fastened to her side?
The gait of a lady ought neither to be too quick nor too slow; the most easy and most convenient step is that which fatigues the least and pleases most. The body and the head should be erect without affectation and without haughtiness; the movements, especially those of the arms, easy and natural. The countenance should be pleasant and modest.
It is not in good _ton_ for a lady to speak too quick or too loud. When seated, she ought neither to cross her legs, nor take a vulgar att.i.tude.
She should occupy her chair entirely, and appear neither too restless, nor too immovable. It is altogether out of place for her to throw her drapery around her in sitting down, or to spread out her dress for display, as upstarts do in order to avoid the least rumple.
But what is especially insupportable in this s.e.x is, an inquiet, bold, and imperious air; for it is unnatural, and not allowable in any case.
If a lady has cares, let her conceal them from the world, or not go into it. Whatever be her merit, let her not forget that she may be a man by the superiority of her mind and decision of character, but that externally she ought to be a woman! She ought to present herself as a being made to please, to love, and to seek a support; a being inferior to man, and near to angels. An affectionate, complying, and almost timid aspect, a tender solicitude for those who are about her, should be shown in her whole person. Her face should breathe hope, gentleness and satisfaction; dejection, anxiety, and ill-humor should be constantly banished.
Before leaving a subject so fruitful, I shall point out to my readers two examples of a bad position. The one is a _fashionable_ with his head stiff, a borrowed air, his leg strained out, trembling lest he should disarrange the symmetry of his cravat, and lest he should pucker his pantaloons, his sleeve or the collar of his coat.
The other is an awkward person, with his feet drawn together and placed upon the round of the chair, his hands spread out upon his knees, his shoulders sunk, and his mouth half open. Between these two caricatures there are many degrees which are ridiculous, but which we leave to the sagacity of our readers to appreciate. We come now to our instructions in respect to conversation. They are so important, that we think it our duty to divide them into two parts, namely; physical proprieties, and moral proprieties.