Chapter 3

It may be said that it is unnecessary to give explicit directions about invitations, inasmuch as the engraver is the one ultimately responsible for the accuracy of these things. But on occasions when small numbers are invited--but undiminished formality is observed--the formal invitation is requisite, yet the engraved card is a needless expense. In such cases one may have cards _written_ in due form. But, for written invitations of this formal character, it is imperative that the paper shall be of superior quality, and the penmanship neat, and _thoroughly stylish_ in effect.

CARDS OF INVITATION TO A WEDDING are issued in the name of the bride's parents, or, if she is an orphan, by her guardian, or some relative or friend who gives her the wedding. All expenses are paid by the bride's family.

It is not etiquette for the groom to bear any of the expense, except the fee to the clergy man; nor to furnish anything for his own wedding, except the ring and the bouquet for the bride, presents for the brides-maids and best man, and some little token for the ushers.

The hostess (who invites) requests the groom to furnish her with two lists of names--one list of those of his friends whom he wishes to be present to witness the ceremony, and another list of those whom he would like to see at the reception also. These, with similar lists of the bride's friends, make up the number of guests to be invited. Wedding invitations are usually sent out two weeks before the day fixed for the ceremony. The invitation is engraved and printed upon a note sheet, in handsome plain script, the lines broken to give distinction to the several ideas, and the wording made as terse as possible. The formula is nearly unvarying:

MR. AND MRS. GEORGE LATHROP request the pleasure of your company (or the honor of your presence) at the marriage of their daughter, MARY ADELAIDE, to MR. WILLIAM HENRY BISHOP, at St. Philip's Church, On Wednesday evening, October twelfth, at seven o'clock.

If the marriage is to be solemnized at home the date follows the names in succession, and the place of residence is given last. The invitation may vary, "the wedding reception of their daughter," etc. Or, accompanying the church wedding invitation may be a square card bearing the lines: "Reception from half-past seven until nine o'clock," with place of residence on the line below.

Also, to avoid a crowd at the church, a smaller card is sometimes sent with the invitations bearing, for example, the words: "Please present this card at St. Philip's Church, Wednesday evening, October twelfth, at seven o'clock." This card of admission is also given to dependents--the domestics of the family or such persons as may be entitled to the kind notice, but who are not, strictly speaking, invited guests. The number of such cards should never be greater than the comfortable capacity of the church, lest their original purpose be defeated.

In case the ceremony is private the immediate family and chosen friends are invited verbally. It is then optional whether or not a formal announcement shall be made to a wider circle of friends by sending out engraved cards the day after the ceremony. These are, like the invitations, printed on note sheets, and are phrased briefly, as

MR. AND MRS. GEORGE LATHROP announce the marriage of their daughter, MARY ADELAIDE, to MR. WILLIAM HENRY BISHOP, Wednesday evening, October twelfth, St. Philip's Church.

"At Home" cards sometimes accompany this announcement, or they may be sent out later by the young couple themselves, if a long wedding trip intervenes.

The private wedding and after announcement is often the most suitable--in fact, the only appropriate method to adopt when a bride is comparatively alone in the world, or has no near relatives to take charge of wedding formalities. In such a case the announcement is worded: "Mr. William Henry Bishop and Miss Mary Adelaide Lathrop, married, Wednesday, October twelfth, 149 Willow St." If no other place is given this is understood to be the place where to address cards of congratulation. If the young couple are to receive later, in a new home, that address, with date of the "at home," is also given, thus, "At home, after November fifteenth, 1129 Lake St." If the change of residence is to another town, the name of the town is also given.

For the proper style of "displaying" the phrases of an invitation or announcement one may apply to a first-class stationer. Plain script and the finest white paper are always correct. Any show of ornamentation is out of taste.

When the circle of acquaintances is very large and invitations must be limited to a certain number, the announcement cards may be sent to others.

A wedding invitation, unless it includes a wedding breakfast, limited in number, requires no reply. Cards sent afterward are all that is necessary. These cards, and whatever congratulations are sent, are addressed to the ones in whose name the invitation or announcement was sent out--usually the parents of the bride. A congratulatory note to the bride is always in order among intimate friends, _but this bears no relation to a response to the invitation_.

WEDDING ANNIVERSARY INVITATIONS are simply, "Mr. and Mrs. George Lathrop, at home," etc., with date and residence. They are printed on cards or note sheets, preferably the latter, and the character of the occasion is indicated by a monogram at the top of the page, in the centre, flanked by the two annual dates, as "1837 [monogram] 1887." If for a golden wedding this heading is lettered in gold; if for a silver wedding, in silver, the invitation being, as usual, printed in black ink. It is good form to engrave "No presents" in the lower left corner, if such is the wish of "the bride and groom."

DINNER CARDS OF INVITATION may have this form:

MR. AND MRS. GEORGE LATHROP request the pleasure Of .................................... company at dinner on Thursday, ................ at seven o'clock. 95 Willow Street.

The above form may be engraved for perennial use by a host or hostess who frequently give dinners, and always on the same day of the week. Blanks are left to be filled in with the name of the invited guest and the exact date. Or for a single occasion the form may be without any blank spaces, and the phrasing read, "Request the pleasure of your company."

A dinner given in honor of some distinguished guest requires an invitation card specially engraved. This form is most deferential:

To meet GENERAL LA FAYETTE, MR. AND MRS. GEORGE LATHROP request the honor of ........................ company at dinner on Wednesday, May tenth, at eight o'clock. 95 Willow Street.

If the honored guest is esteemed on the score of personal friendship rather than public distinction his name will be given last, instead of first, on the card, the phrasing of the invitation remaining the same.

Invitations to dinner should be answered at once, and no one should accept if there is the least doubt about being able to be present. Only the most serious detentions suddenly arising will excuse a failure to keep a dinner engagement once made. If such contingency does occur at the eleventh hour an explanation and apology should be sent to the host or hostess without delay in order to give opportunity for securing "the fourteenth man."

FOR A FORMAL LUNCHEON OR BREAKFAST the invitation cards are similar in form to dinner cards. But since the manner of serving, the numbers invited, etc., are not so definitely fixed it is proper to add R.S.V.P. on cards that especially call for a reply in the judgment of the hostess. Otherwise many people with vague ideas of the "informality" of these occasions might omit to send replies.

THE CONDUCT OF A CHURCH WEDDING

The sexton should be duly informed what preparations to make at the church; the awning at the entrance, the ribbon barrier across the aisle, the floral decorations, etc., by whomever arranged and executed are under the supervision of this functionary, who is responsible for having everything in order.

It is no longer good form for a bride to be late at her own wedding. Now, when the invitation says "seven o'clock" it is expected that the ceremony will begin at that hour precisely, accidents aside.

The organist is engaged by some one interested in making the arrangements, and is supposed to be in his place for a half-hour or so before the hour of the ceremony; and while the guests are assembling he discourses music appropriate to the occasion--a rambling, meditative _pot-pourri_ of sweet and pathetic sentimental songs being a popular and effective choice. In churches having a vested choir it is possible to secure very beautiful effects in the musical adjuncts, the processional adding greatly to the grace and dignity of the ceremonial.

The sexton, or his deputy, stands at the door, salver in hand, to receive the admission cards as people enter the church. The invited guests are met at the foot of the centre aisle by the ushers. An usher offers his arm to a lady and conducts her to a seat, the friends of the bride being seated at the left and the friends of the groom at the right of the middle aisle. When, as often happens, the groom is "from a distance," and few of his far-away acquaintances can be present, this separation of guests is not observed.

At the appointed hour, the clergyman appears at the altar rail; the groom, accompanied by his best man, emerges from the vestry, and takes his place at the right, awaiting the arrival of the bride. At this instant, the organist stops dreaming, wakes up, and starts boldly into the wedding march, as the bridal party move up the aisle, in the following order: First, the ushers, in pairs, then the bridesmaids, also in pairs. Sometimes a little "maid of honor," carrying flowers, precedes the bride. The bride, leaning on the arm of her father, comes last. The ushers and the bridesmaids separate as they reach the altar, and go to the right and to the left. At the altar the groom receives the bride from her father's hand. The latter steps back a few paces, but remains near enough to "give away the bride." When this point in the ceremony has been passed, the father quietly joins the mother in the front pew.

If the processional has been the "Lohengrin" march, it is thought by many to be very effective for the organist, all through the ceremony, to continue on the swell organ a dreamy _sotto voce_ improvisation, in the course of which a varied reiteration of "Faithful and true" serves as an affecting expression of the sentiment of the hour. The most enjoyable tears are shed by the emotional under this inspiration. But other people prefer the solemn stillness, broken only by the voice of the priest and the responses of the high contracting parties. It is a matter of taste and feeling; and those interested are at liberty to indulge either fancy.

The bride stands at the left of the groom during the ceremony; and also takes his left arm at the close. When the ceremony is concluded, the officiating clergyman congratulates the couple, but does not kiss the bride as formerly. In the Episcopal Church, and any other churches where it is the duty of the contracting parties to sign the parish register, the clergyman, the newly wedded pair, and their witnesses, now retire to the sacristry for this purpose. On their return to the chancel, the organ peals forth the Wedding March; the bride and groom lead the bridal party in returning down the aisle, the bridesmaids and ushers following in due order, and after them the nearest relatives; and all, entering their carriages, are driven at once to the home of the bride's parents.

After a morning, or "high noon" wedding, a "breakfast" is usually served. If the ceremony has been a nuptial mass, in the Catholic or High Church ritual, the bridal party have--presumably--observed the fast, before the mass; therefore, the "breakfast" is really a breakfast. However, the term is popularly used by non-ritualists, when the ceremony bears no relation to the mass; and regardless of the fact that the real breakfast has been taken at the usual hour.

A bride may wear full dress at any hour, day or evening; but _decollete_ dress is not good form at a church wedding, nor is it allowed in the Catholic church. White is the preferred color for a young bride. A widow-bride, on the contrary, should choose some other color; and she wears neither veil nor orange-blossoms.

Details of fashion vary so constantly that specific directions cannot be given with any assumption of final authority. A fashionable modiste should be consulted in the emergency.

The dress worn by a guest at a wedding may be as rich as desired, but should not have a bridal appearance. Sometimes a recent bride wears her own wedding gown at a friend's wedding; but it is in better taste not to do so, nor in any other way to invite comparisons. The bride should be permitted to be the conspicuous figure at her own wedding, and while her friends may pay her the compliment of wearing handsome toilettes on that occasion, still, other women should dress just a little less elaborately, rather than commit the solecism of "out-dressing the bride." Fortunately, one may show all delicate consideration in this matter, and yet be beautifully and becomingly dressed.

THE ETHICS OF HOSPITALITY

Hospitality shares what it has. It does not attempt to _give_ what it _has not_. The finest hospitality is that which welcomes you to the fireside and permits you to look upon the picture of a home-life so little disturbed by your coming that you are at once made to feel yourself a part of the little symphony--the rare bit of color just needed to complete the harmonic combination. With this flattering fact impressed upon your glowing memory you will hardly be able to recall the material adjuncts of the occasion. It is a sign of a gross nature to measure hospitality by the loaves and fishes, forgetting the miracle that goes with them. And it is equally a mistake for a host to be afraid to offer humble entertainment when richer offers are beyond his means. To a refined perception "the life is more than the meat," and the personality of the host, not the condition of his larder, decides whether or not it is an honor to be his guest. Delightful though it be to be able to afford one's guest a rare and beautiful entertainment, one must dismiss the idea that a graceful and acceptable hospitality depends on material things. Sir Launfal, sharing his crust with the beggar at the gate, was still Sir Launfal. The impoverished hostess may preside at her frugal board with the spirit and the manner of a queen, whereas the coarse-fibred vulgarian vainly heaps his platters with choicest game and rarest fruit, the while he serves the banquet like the churl that he is.

Whatever your entertainment, rich or poor, remember, first of all, to give _yourself_ to your guest; then, if he is appreciative, he will not criticise your simple dinner, nor grumble at the flavor of your wine. One of the wits of the day has gravely reported that at a banquet in the Athens of America, "the _menu_ consisted of two baked beans and readings from Emerson." Despite its grotesque exaggeration, the _mot_ contains the kernel of a dignified truth: that material things are of secondary importance on all social occasions worthy of the name.

The most expensive entertainment given by any one should be merely an incidental illustration of his already recognized financial means. It should never be so beyond his usual ability as to arouse among his neighbors the wonder, how he could afford it? When people who are known to have only a moderate income give "spreads" disproportionate to their daily mode of living, the thoughtful observer instinctively questions their taste and good sense. Usually such ostentatious display brings more or less derision on the ones who are foolish enough to spend more money to make their neighbors stare for a day than they use to make themselves comfortable for a year. No matter how elaborate the entertainment the guests should not be allowed to suspect that their host has exhausted his resources, or that he might not be able to do this same thing at any time that he chose.

As already suggested, the character of the entertainment in a private house should never be such as to involve a total departure from the habitual customs of the household. It is granted that provision must be made on a grander scale for larger numbers; the _quantity_ of things will necessarily be augmented, and mere bulk wears a certain air of the imposing, and when to this is added the vital element--the magnetism of a brilliant company--the participant will seem to breathe a rarified atmosphere, and to an extent to be exalted above the level of everyday life. Yet that level should not be lost to sight nor cease to be the basis of measurement. The quality of elegant serving and mannerly eating should be just what is every day observed at the family dinner of the same household. The guest should get a correct idea of the home atmosphere of the house, even though it be slightly congealed by the formality and reserve which the presence of strangers naturally inspires.

When people assume to entertain socially they should not give a false showing of themselves or of their means. The proudest spirit acknowledges the limitations of poverty with dignified truthfulness; it is the moral coward who seeks to hide these limitations by a greater display than his circumstances warrant. And he reaps as he sows. His "entertainments" fill an idle hour for the class of visitors who gravitate mainly to the supper-room, while the giver of the feast, under the tension of this social effort, suffers a weariness of the spirit as well as of the flesh, and gives a sigh of relief when the door closes upon the last guest, and the pitiful farce is declared "over." We wonder "Why do they thus spend their strength for that which profiteth not?" Surely, few things in the course of a misspent life are less profitable than such over-strained efforts at showy entertainment. The "banquet hall deserted" presents on the following day a grim reminder of the petty economies that for weeks hence must secretly be contrived in order to restore the balance of an overdrawn bank account. The folly of _living_ beyond one's means may have this extenuating feature, that it is often an error due to generous, though indiscreet impulse, or to inexperience; but the folly of spending money lavishly on a few ostentatious "spreads" that are "beyond one's means" has no redeeming points. The deception seldom long deceives. It is a social blunder, the effect of which is to depreciate rather than to enhance the social importance of the family thus entertaining.

It will be understood that this refers to cases when the motive of extravagance is to gratify vanity. It does not mean to imply that the Christmas dinner, or the birthday party, or the wedding anniversary may not be a time when all the energies of a poor and usually frugal household may be concentrated to prepare for one occasion of feasting and rejoicing. The Cratchetts may have their roast goose; even the Micawbers may be indulged in their occasional banquet. And the carefully planned birthday party may be all the more gratefully appreciated by the honored one when it is known that every choice provision for the occasion represents some thoughtful contriving and some self-sacrifice prompted by affection. Such occasions are "red-letter days" in the homes of people of limited means; and pathos is never more delicately suggested than when the poor man forgets his poverty in the wealth of a home-gathering and a feast of remembrance. "Let not a stranger intermeddle with their joy."

In the two cases the financial conditions may seem to be parallel, but in essential spirit there is no resemblance. What is done from sentiment and affection is above commercial measurement. What is done for the sake of ostentation is, by its own act, made a legitimate object of popular criticism.

Another point of good taste in entertaining is that one who is wealthier than others of his social circle should not conspicuously outshine his neighbors by giving them a kind and degree of entertainment which will make their return of civilities seem poor and mean by comparison. Unless the rich man is so greatly beyond others in the scale of wealth that comparisons cease to be odious, it is more considerate for him to keep within the degree of expense and display possible to the average of his associates.

There is still another reason why the very rich should be chary of giving magnificent entertainments.

The dazzled community, gazing spell-bound upon the spectacle of a flower-decked mansion, brilliant with colored lights and echoing to bewildering strains of music, is apt to forget, in this aggregation of the energies of florist, caterer, and band-master, the one man who is supposed to be, but is not, the author of this occasion.

George (descanting on the glories of the "crush of the season")--"The music--the champagne--the----"

Montague--"Ah! yes; and how did 'mine host' bear himself?"

George--"The host! (ruefully). B'Jove! I forgot to hunt him up!"

Unfortunately, mine host had allowed his surroundings to belittle himself. Many a brilliant "social event" might properly be chronicled under the head-line: "Total Eclipse of the Host!" so insignificant does the man become when he carries his standards of social entertaining in his pocket-book instead of in his brains.

However, one need not be very rich in order to make this same mistake. It is made every time that social life ceases to be social, and becomes merely a contest of rival displays. This folly is observed in small villages quite as often as in the metropolis. In contrast, how refreshing it is to cross the threshold of a refined and cultivated home, and find awaiting us a cordial welcome and a genuine hospitality, so true to its author's personality and environment that whether water or wine be offered we know not, grateful that our host gives us his best, whatever it is, and, best of all, gives himself.

AFTERNOON RECEPTIONS AND TEAS

Fashions in entertaining have changed within the memory of "those now living." Once, large parties were given, hundreds of invitations were issued, a house was crowded from veranda to attic, and the occasion was one of the few notable social events of the season. Then came the fashion--partly for exclusiveness, partly for novelty, largely for convenience--of giving during the season several small parties or receptions, which in the aggregate might include all of one's visiting list. The disadvantage of this plan, as an exclusive method of solving the problem of social entertaining, was that slights were liable to occur, and were sure to be bitterly felt and resented. Yet, what was a hostess to do? To go back to the old-time crowded party, superadding the increased luxury of modern entertaining, would be to re-establish an inconvenient and expensive fashion. But some way must be devised to bring one's friends together, in larger numbers, and with more prompt and direct expression of hospitality and good fellowship than could be conveyed by the slow and stately process of a series of dinners.