Chapter 8

Let no young girl regard this watch-care as a trammel placed on her coveted liberty. On the contrary, she will find that she has far more social freedom with the countenance of her mother's presence than she could have without it. And in after years, when her life has developed safely and happily under this discreet leadership, she will look back to her _debut_, and her first seasons in society, with profound gladness that--thanks to somebody wiser than herself--she has escaped the follies that have in more or less measure injured the prospects of her young friends who were too "independent" to submit to the restraints of chaperonage, and who, for lack of it, to-day find themselves to a relative extent depreciated in social estimation.

GREETINGS. RECOGNITIONS. INTRODUCTIONS.

The proverb, "The beginning is half the battle," applies in a multitude of ways. In the first instant of a greeting between two people, the ground upon which they meet should be indicated. Cordiality, reserve, distrust, confidence, caution, condescension, deference--whatever the real or the assumed attitude may be, should be shown unmistakably when eyes meet and heads bend in the ceremony of greeting.

To put into this initial manner the essence of the manner which one chooses to maintain throughout is one of the fine touches of diplomacy. People fail to do this when their effusively gracious condescension subsequently develops into snobbishness, or when an austere stiffness of demeanor belies the friendliness which they really intend to manifest. The latter fault is often due to diffidence or awkward self-consciousness; the former is usually traceable to the caprice of an undisciplined nature, and is a significant mark of ill-breeding.

The vital part of a greeting is in the expression of the eyes. This is so nearly spontaneous that the most guarded cannot altogether veil the spirit that looks out of these "windows of the soul." The studied attitude and genuflection fail to hide surliness or contempt; and hostility, bitter and implacable, may reveal itself by the smoldering spark of anger in the eye, and destroy the effect of the most artful obsequiousness of manner. Since we cannot control this one impulsively-truthful medium of expression, it becomes a matter of policy as well as of morals to harbor no spirits whose "possession" of us would be an unpleasant and inconvenient revelation.

Next to the eyes, the pose of the figure indicates the sentiment of the moment. Arrogant assumption of superiority may be read in the expanded chest, the stiffened neck, and the head thrown backward at a decided angle; or, subservient humility is seen in the forward-bending head and the wilted droop of the shoulders. And again, the difference between a real humility and the artificial deference which gallantry prompts is easily detected. The gallant's head and shoulders are bowed, but not in meekness, for there is a certain tension in the controlled muscles that suggests that he can "straighten up" at will, whereas the really humble man appears to have no power to lift his bowed head or equally drooping spirit.

The bending of the head and trunk, or the "bow," is the final and most active exponent of the spirit of the greeting. In its degrees and gradations are marked the degrees of deference, real or formal.

The bow begins at the head, and may observe the following gradations:

It may be an inclination of the head only, differing from a "nod" in the dignity of movement.

The inclination may extend to the shoulders, causing a slightly perceptible forward leaning. This inclination may continue to the waist line.

The extreme inclination bends the entire trunk from the hips. The legs are straight and the feet near together, in the attitude of "position" in free gymnastics.

In every bow, of whatever gradation, the movement should be slow, the eye steady, the face serene, and the whole demeanor expressive of polite interest in the object. An averted eye is disrespectful, and suggests insincerity or treachery. Not that it always means either; the "drooping eyelash" is affected by many women as gracefully expressive of feminine modesty. It may be coquettish, but there is nothing particularly womanly in never looking a man in the eye. Search the face that confronts you, and learn what manner of man this is whom you are receiving into your company and fellowship. If he quails under the inquisition, so much the worse for him. If he is worth looking at, it is a pity to miss the sight. Moreover, we more than half suspect that a woman's face is more attractive if her eyes occasionally "look up clear," instead of allowing the downcast lids to hide all of their vivacity and expression.

The gayety or the gravity of the countenance may serve to measure the cordiality or the reserve which respectively distinguish two "bows"--exactly alike as to movement, and equally courteous, the one inviting confidence, the other repelling familiarity. The time, the place, and the occasion, and the mutual relations of people, decide the essential character of the appropriate bow. It must always be the exponent of the nature and disposition of the individual, and of his relation to the person whom he greets. No one has precisely the _same manner_ for any two people of his acquaintance--that is, if he has any vital manner at all. We are to others largely what they inspire us to be, and only lifeless indifference reduces "manner" to one same automatic manifestation. The life of a social greeting is in its exclusive spirit, and though the variations of outward manner are difficult to trace, it is a graceful and flattering thing to make this specialty of manner felt in every greeting extended. Perhaps, after all, it is the eye that controls this, as the spirit within controls the eye.

In general, the manner of a greeting should be optimistic, free from ungracious suspicion, and indicating a cheerful willingness to take people at their best; and even when most sternly forbidding intrusiveness, it should appear that the repulse is for good cause, and is not merely the expression of a capricious and unfounded arrogance. The latter quality, quite as often as not, characterizes the manner of snobs toward people who are infinitely their superiors in all that indicates character and breeding.

The "curtsey"--or "courtesy"--is a feature of the minuet, and revived with the old-fashioned dance. It is a pretty bit of old-time grace, and is appropriate in responding to formal introductions and greetings in the drawing-room, especially when paying respect to elderly people. It is most effective when executed in a costume of voluminous draperies. It is a woman's ceremonial; no man ever "curtseys." The regulation "bow" is the only "deference" that gracefully combines with a dress suit.

The _courtesy_ is a strictly formal obeisance, and the courtly reverence which it embodies is something more abstract than concrete, not necessarily inspired by the person to whom its deference is shown. Like all greetings exchanged in the midst of crowds or in public places, it is somewhat impersonal in manner. Personal recognitions and distinctions are reserved for more private occasions. One's greetings to fellow-guests at a reception are uniformly affable, irrespective of personal preferences. Though our dearest friend and our direst foe both be present, we must not pointedly discriminate between them; we are not at liberty to use the parlors of our host for either a lover's tryst or a duelling-ground.

A guest's first duty on entering a parlor or drawing-room is to pay his or her respects to the hostess and the ladies who are receiving with her. Gentlemen should also make it a point to find the host as soon as possible, and extend to him a similar courtesy. The host, in turn, when not receiving formally with the hostess, roams at large, giving a hospitable greeting to each lady among his guests.

In America, when a lady and gentleman meet, after being duly introduced, it is the lady's privilege to bow first. This rule protects her from the intrusion of an unwelcome acquaintance. But when the acquaintance is established and mutually agreeable, the rule is immaterial.

In general, the elder or the more distinguished person bows first. But if the one who for any reason would be the proper one to take the initiative is known to be near-sighted, and liable to overlook an acquaintance unintentionally, it is more polite for the other person not to stand on ceremony.

It is interesting to note that on the continent of Europe the rule regarding recognitions is exactly reversed. The subject bows first to the king, the courtier to the lady; deference to a superior, rather than social equality, being expressed by the bow.

One of the moot questions of the day is, "When is it proper to introduce people to each other?" The strictest etiquette forbids casual social introductions, or the introducing of any two people at any time without the consent of both parties. It is argued that people who meet in a drawing-room as fellow-guests are introduced, by that mere fact, sufficiently for the social purposes of the hour; and they may engage in conversation, if they choose, without the least hesitancy; both understanding that this interchange involves no acquaintance beyond the present occasion. By this arrangement an awkward silence is averted, and it certainly seems as if the chief argument in favor of "introducing people" is met; since, with "the roof" as their transient introduction, they are perfectly at ease without personal introductions. When people are used to this idea it is altogether the most sensible and agreeable solution of the question; but many social assemblies demonstrate that a large number of people are yet waiting to be introduced, and not without some feeling of resentment when this ceremony is neglected. Let it be understood that any one is at liberty to speak to a fellow-guest without an introduction; also, that such a "talk" does not warrant any subsequent claim of acquaintance. If in the course of this impromptu chat mutual interest is awakened, either one may later seek an introduction in due form through some common friend.

On informal occasions, when few guests are present, especially in country towns, it may be more kindly and social to give personal introductions; and the good sense of this idea, probably, is founded on the fact that under these conditions a hostess can be reasonably sure that the acquaintance will be congenial. To the villager many of the extreme rules of etiquette are unreasonable, because the conditions that enforce them in town life are not present in the life of the quiet hamlet. The rule regarding introductions is one which must be modified to suit circumstances. It is one of the cases when various delicate considerations may justify exceptions. The lady who in her city home introduces nobody, may in her country home introduce everybody, if that seems best. In the matter of delicate exceptions we observe the most significant display of tact.

When introductions are made, gentlemen should be presented to ladies, younger people to older people, etc. The formula for introductions may be abbreviated to a mere announcement of the two names: "Mr. Smith--Mrs. Jones"--the pause and inflection filling the ellipsis; and really, upon the tone and manner depends the courtesy of the introduction so barren of phrasing. A formal presentation is made in this form:--"Miss Smith, allow me to present Mr. Jones."

Tact suggests that a hostess shall avoid bringing uncongenial people together; but if this unfortunately happens through ignorance or thoughtlessness, tact with equal urgency requires that the guests thus inauspiciously mingled shall not allow any one, not even the hostess herself, to discover the mistake. The same rule which allows perfect strangers to be agreeably social for an hour, and then part as strangers yet, certainly will grant to enemies a similar privilege.

The woman who conscientiously, and _perfectly_, hides her personal animosities rather than mar the harmony of the social circle, is doing her part to keep the world in tune.

The offer of the social right hand of fellowship is a tacit recognition of equality. Hand-shaking is said to be an American habit. Certainly the social conditions in a republic are favorable to such a custom. It is a pity that a mode so adapted to express the warmth and loyalty of friendship should be indiscriminately employed in casual greetings. The pressure of the hand should mean more than it can mean, when, as now, it is bestowed with equal alacrity on life-long friend and recent acquaintance.

Fastidious and sensitive people are rather conservative in hand-shaking. Etiquette allows considerable latitude. It is proper and graceful, but not required, for two men to shake hands when introduced. A lady does not usually shake hands with a new acquaintance, unless the circumstances of the introduction make her responsible for allowing special cordiality, as when a person is introduced to her in her own house. A host and hostess shake hands with a guest; they may omit to shake hands with the same person when they meet him elsewhere.

Whatever one's personal impulse, it is polite to defer to the evident preference of another; and to shake hands heartily if a hand is cordially extended, or to refrain from proffering the hand when reserve is evident in the manner of the other person.

Hand-shaking as a conventional ceremony should be as impersonal and as void of significance as possible. The clasp of the hand should be firm but brief; not hasty, yet not prolonged; and the fingers should relax and loosen their hold at once, not dropping listlessly, nor retaining a lingering pressure. When a lady gives her hand to a guest she expects to get it back again almost immediately, and in an uncrushed condition. To hold another's hand until he or she is conscious of the detaining grasp is a liberty that only trusted friends may take.

At the same time, a hearty manner of greeting may be the fashion in some places; and to meet it otherwise than cheerfully would seem churlish, according to local standards. It is always well-bred--as well as politic--to conform to local customs so far as is consistent with dignity.

Another custom, gradually going out, is the woman's fashion of kissing effusively each woman-friend of her acquaintance. This senseless habit has no excuse for being. When kissing is the language of impulsive affection, etiquette has nothing to say about it except to demand that the general public shall not be called upon to witness the ceremony. Public thoroughfares and thronged social assemblies we not the proper places for such demonstrations. Nothing is less interesting than other people's kisses, unless it be the gushing recital of private affairs with which these unguarded people also entertain every stranger within earshot. When scenes like these are observed at railroad stations and on board of trains when demonstrative leave-taking is in progress, we may forgive the exhibition since the circumstances warrant more than usual impulsiveness and forgetfulness of surroundings. But when the most common-place meeting of acquaintances, who see each other every day, is attended with these phenomena, etiquette, as well as common-sense, enters a severe protest. The kiss, which should be the most exclusive symbol of friendship, becomes the most insignificant form of greeting.

It is not proper, according to strict etiquette, to give the kiss of greeting in public places; but when near relatives or cherished friends do choose thus to greet each other, the kiss should be exchanged unobtrusively and with dignity; conversation on private matters should be conducted in subdued tones, and a well-bred gravity--quite consistent with cheerfulness--should characterize the manner.

It would be well if every person in society should register a solemn resolution never to kiss _anybody_ unless prompted to do so by the irresistible impulse of affection. It is safe to say that nine-tenths of the kisses of social greeting would be dispensed with. The quality of the remaining tenth would doubtless be proportionately improved.

BEHAVIOR IN PUBLIC THOROUGHFARES

People understand and "make allowances" for many things that, to say the least, are thoughtless in the behavior of people whom they know well. Not so "the general public," which measures every man's conduct by the strict law of propriety, and accredits him with so much intelligence and refinement as his manners display--no more. And, happily, no less; for this "general public" is a dispassionate critic on the whole, and if it severely condemns our faults, it has no grudge against us to keep it from equally appreciating our merits.

A "regard for appearances" is--and should be--a leading consideration when ordering one's conduct in public. It is not enough that _we know_ ourselves to be above reproach; we must take care that the stranger who observes us gets no impression to the contrary. Friends who know her irresistibly mirthful disposition, may excuse the girl who laughs boisterously on the street-car; but she will not be able to explain to the severe-looking stranger opposite that she did _not_ do this to attract attention.

Conduct in public should be characterized by reserve. The promenade, the corridors of public buildings--post-office, railway stations, etc.--the elevators and arcades of buildings devoted to shops and offices; museums and picture-galleries, the foyer of the theatre, and the reading-rooms of public libraries may all be regarded as thorough fares, where the general public is our observant critic. Greetings between acquaintances casually meeting in such places should be quiet and conventional; friends should avoid calling each other by name, and conversation should be confined to such remarks as one does not object to have accidentally overheard. Subdued, but natural, tones of voice should be used, and the manner should be perfectly "open and above board." Cautious whispering is conspicuous, sometimes suspicious, and always ill-mannered. If confidential matters are to be discussed, the office or the parlor is the proper place for the conference.

When acquaintances meet on the promenade, recognitions are exchanged by a slight bow, with or without a spoken greeting.

On the crowded walk, if two acquaintances pass and re-pass each other several times in the course of the same promenade, it is not necessary to exchange greetings after the first meeting.

Canes and umbrellas should not be carried under the arm horizontally, endangering the eyes and ribs of other pedestrians.

A man, when bowing, lifts his hat in the following instances:

When bowing to a lady.

When, walking with a lady, he bows to another man of his acquaintance.

When bowing to an elderly man, or a superior in office.

When bowing to a man who is walking with a lady.

When, walking with a lady, he joins her in saluting any gentlemen of her acquaintance, but strangers to himself; or, when walking with gentlemen, he joins them in saluting a lady of their acquaintance, but a stranger to himself.

When offering any civility (as a seat in the street-car), to a lady, whether a stranger or an acquaintance.

When bidding good-bye to a lady after an "open-air" conference, when the hat has been worn. Punctilious etiquette requires a man to stand with head uncovered in the presence of ladies, until requested to replace the hat. But in our changeable climate, the risk of "taking cold" suggests the good sense of wearing the hat out-of-doors, and allowing the graceful lifting of the same at greeting and parting to express all the deference that the uncovered head is meant to symbolize.

The greater the crowd, the shorter the range at which greetings are exchanged. One might "halloo" to an old acquaintance forty rods distant, down a country lane; but on Broadway he bows only to the ones whom he meets point blank.

If two friends meet and pause to shake hands, they should step aside from the throng, and not blockade the sidewalk. Ladies should make these pauses very brief, and beware of entering into exhaustive interchanges of family news. Two men may linger, if they choose, and hold a few moments' conversation. But if a man meets a lady, and wishes to chat with her, he should, after greeting her, ask permission to join her, and walk with her for a short distance; he should by no means detain her standing on the sidewalk. He should not accompany her all the way to her destination, nor prolong such a casual conversation beyond a few moments. He should leave her at a corner, and lift his hat respectfully as he bids her good-bye.

If several people walking together on a sidewalk of average width meet other groups of promenaders, both parties should fall into single line as they pass, allowing each group a fair share of the walk. This is especially incumbent when on a narrow crossing. It is very rude for groups of three or more to walk abreast without heeding the people whom they meet, and often crowding the latter off the curbstone. Young girls are sometimes very thoughtless in this matter. "Turn to the right, as the law directs" is an injunction that holds good for the crowded sidewalk.

If one, walking briskly, overtakes slower walkers ahead, and the crowd allows no space to get past them, one should watch for a chance to slip through a gap in the phalanx, rather than "elbow through." If no chance seems likely to occur, and haste is imperative, a polite man has no recourse but to step outside the curb and walk rapidly ahead, returning to the sidewalk a few paces in advance. A lady similarly hurried may slip through a small space, if one offers, with an apologetic "I beg pardon." But in no case should pushing be resorted to. It is very unmannerly for a party of loiterers to string themselves thus across the width of a sidewalk, and then saunter slowly, regardless of the fact that they are impeding the progress of busier people. A policeman should call their attention to the fact.

If the sidewalk is "blocked" by an orderly crowd, as it frequently is on the occasion of parades and other public demonstrations, a man may push his way through gently, saying, "I beg pardon" to those whom he is compelled to jostle. The fine breeding of a gentleman never shows more conspicuously than in his manner of getting through a crowd. The beauty of it is, or, perhaps, I might say, the utility of it is, that courtesy in such a case is very much more effective than "bluff," for the majority in an orderly crowd are inclined to be obliging, and quickly respond to a good-humored request; whereas, if one aggressive elbow begins to push, a hundred other elbows are set rigidly akimbo, and the solid mass becomes ten-fold more unyielding than before.

If accosted by a stranger with a request for information as to streets, directions, etc., one should kindly reply, and, if not able to give the desired information, should, if possible, direct the stranger where to make further inquiries. Cheerful interest in the perplexities of a bewildered sojourner in the city costs nothing and is always highly appreciated. Only a pessimist or a snob would dismiss such a question curtly.

If a lady's dress has been torn, or trimming or braid ripped and left trailing after contact with the nails in a packing-box on the sidewalk, or from some similar accident, it is polite to call her attention to the disaster. A gentleman may do this with perfect propriety if he sees that she is not aware of it. He should preface the information with "Pardon me," and should lift his hat, as always when offering any civility.