Etiquette
Etiquette.—This chapter cannot commence more appropriately than with a few remarks on the customs observed in society and the rules which regulate visits and parties. To enter fully into all these matters would occupy a very large amount of space. Those requiring more detail cannot do better than consult the weekly pages of the Queen, in which excellent journal often appear articles on the latest fashionable customs, and where an inquiry from one in doubt is sure to meet with a polite reply giving the necessary information.
Styles and Titles.—It seems difficult to make it clear to the understandings of many persons that it is incorrect, in speaking of an earl’s, marquis’s, or duke’s daughter, to omit her Christian name. They must know that she is habitually styled Lady Clara Vere, yet they persist in calling her Lady Vere, as if she were a peeress or a baronet’s wife, instead of a “lady in her own right.” Another equally common blunder is to speak of a baronet’s wife as Lady Emma Jones; if for purposes of identification it is necessary to mention her Christian name at all, it should be as Emma Lady Jones, as nothing but being the daughter of a peer higher in rank than a viscount gives the right to be called Lady Emma. Again, it is impossible to persuade some people that it is the sons of dukes and marquises only who are called lords; they persist in imagining that because earls’ daughters are styled lady, it is impossible that their younger brothers should be only Hon. Mr. The title of dowager is another great stumbling-block. In propriety it should only be borne by the mother of the reigning peer or baronet. Should, therefore, a peer (let us call him Earl of Brighton) succeed his father, his mother, the widowed countess, should be styled the Countess Dowager of Brighton. Should he, however, succeed to his uncle, brother, or cousin, that relative’s widow would have no claim to the title of dowager, but should be addressed as Mary, Countess of Brighton. It is a very common saying that a woman may rise in rank, but can never lose what she has once possessed; but, like many common sayings, this, though the general rule, is not strictly accurate. A duke’s daughter takes precedence far before the wife of a baron. Yet if she marry a baron who is a peer in his own right (not merely a title of courtesy, such as are borne by peers’ eldest sons), she at once, on becoming his wife, loses her own rank, and has no precedence, save that of her husband.
Shaking hands.—You would not shake hands on being casually introduced to a person altogether a stranger to you, but yet there are so many occasions when it is both proper and correct to shake hands on first being introduced, and the rule on this head is a very elastic one. For instance, a host and hostess invariably shake hands with every stranger introduced to them at their house. You would shake hands on being introduced to the relatives of your relations by marriage, such as your sister-in-law’s sister or your sister-in-law’s mother; with your brother-in-law’s brother or father; with your future husband’s uncle and aunt or cousins; with a brother or sister or mother of an intimate friend; or under any similar circumstances. If you do not shake hands on being introduced, ought you to do so on departure? That depends. There are occasions when to shake hands would be polite; and there are occasions when your hand would be de trop. If you had enjoyed conversation to any extent with some one to whom you had been introduced, and found you were getting on very well, and had a good deal in common, you would naturally shake hands in taking leave of each other; but if you had only exchanged a few common-place sentences, a bow would be all that is necessary. The lady usually takes the initiative, as she does with regard to bowing; but in reality it is a spontaneous movement made by both at the same moment, as the hand ought not to be extended or the bow given unless expected and instantaneously reciprocated. For a young lady suddenly to offer her hand in farewell greeting to one not prepared for the honour leads to an abrupt movement on the one part, and to a little confusion on the other. Shaking hands on taking leave is with some few people a graceful and pleasant fashion of saying good-bye. About shaking hands with acquaintances at a dinner party, or at an evening party, many are in doubt. If the dinner party is a small one, and there is time to quietly shake hands with those you know, it would be correct to do so; but if there were little time before dinner, and no good opportunity for shaking hands, bows to acquaintances at distant parts of the room, or when seated at the dinner table, would be sufficient for the time being; while at an evening party it depends upon your being able to get near enough to your friends to enable you to do so. Having once shaken hands with a person, you are of course at liberty to repeat the civility whenever you may happen to meet, unless a decided coolness of manner warns you that a bow would be more acceptable than a shake of the hand.
Letter Writing.—To commence a letter to a comparative stranger, or to a person with whom the writer is but slightly acquainted, on any matter of interest, is the first difficulty to be got over. In all communications with strangers, or almost strangers, it would be correct to write in the third person. A very slight acquaintance, however, or a faint personal knowledge, would authorise a letter being written in the first person if it were to be of any length. Notes are principally confined to the briefest of communications, as, when they are lengthy, the repetition of the pronoun “she” and “her,” “he” and “him,” become wearisome if not involved, to say nothing of the possessive pronouns which are frequently brought into use, with the addition of surnames. When it is imperative to write in the third person, it is most desirable to construct each sentence with care and with due regard to an extravagant use of pronouns, and never at any time to resort to the vulgar expedient of attempting a sort of compromise by making the initial letter of the writer, and of the person written to, do duty for their respective surnames. To frame a note without introducing “compliments” at its commencement is the received mode of writing one. The subject under discussion does not require this preliminary introduction, and it is best to embody it in the opening sentence. There are few people careless or ignorant enough to lapse from the third person into the first in the course of a short note; but still it is worth guarding against. To turn from notes to letters, again it is observable that a cramped style, or a small Italian handwriting, are no longer in vogue, and, when seen, appear very much out of date. The prevailing style of writing is bold and free, the characters very upright, and tall toppling “l’s” and long-tailed “g’s” have quite disappeared from letters in general; a free use of capitals is also indulged in, which gives a dash of originality and spirit to a letter when not overdone. Many gentlemen and a few ladies affect a literary style of letter writing—that is to say, a margin ¾-1 in. wide is left on the near side of the sheet of paper, which gives rather an imposing look to it; but this is only done when the letter is almost a note in the matter of length. A strictly business habit, adopted for the convenience of being copied by letter-press, by no means a fashionable one, is to write on the first and third pages of a sheet of note paper, leaving the second and fourth pages blank, or to write on the first and fourth pages, leaving the other two; but some people fall into the mistake of doing this under the impression that it is rather fine, whereas it is very much the reverse. Some little care should be taken in paragraphing a letter to avoid incoherency. Thus, a fresh line and a capital should be allowed to each new subject. As much variety is introduced into the letters of the present day as possible; thus, should a sentence or a remark require to be referred to, the eye can at once light upon it without re-reading the whole epistle. It used to be an idea that to underline words in a letter was “missish” in the extreme, and rather bad style than not: but now, if a writer wishes to be very emphatic, or to call particular attention to any remark, an additional stroke of the pen is not objected to; but it is a liberty not to be taken when writing to those with whom one is on ceremony. Another practice of the past, which is now happily discarded, is that of crossing letters. Many people experience a certain difficulty in the choice of a conventional term with which to conclude a ceremonious letter, and it must be admitted that there is not much variety at command, “yours truly,” “yours sincerely,” “yours faithfully,” with the addition perhaps of the adverb “very,” being the principal formulas in use; and it is on the whole immaterial whether “truly” or “sincerely” is employed when writing to friends. The affectionate expressions addressed to still dearer friends and relations are beside the question, and yet many devoted husbands make use of the words “yours truly” when writing to their wives, in preference to any more affectionate phrase. By way of not concluding a letter too abruptly, it is usual, before the words “yours truly,” to add one or other of such phrases as these: “Believe me, dear Mrs. Jones,” or “I remain, dear Mrs. Jones,” or “Believe me, dear Mrs. Jones, with kind regards,” and this gives a certain finish and completeness to a letter which would otherwise be wanting.
A few words as to the actual composition of a letter. It should always be borne in mind that if a letter has a purpose, a reason, or an object for being written, this fact should not be lost sight of, or overweighted with a mass of extraneous matter. Again, it is idle to devote the first page of a letter to trivial excuses for not having written sooner, when no particular reason existed why a still longer delay in writing might not have been allowed to elapse, if it suited the convenience of the writer. Of course, when a letter requires an immediate answer, it is then a matter of politeness to give the reason for the omission, but this should be explained without circumlocution, and other matters should at once be referred to. A want of punctuation in a letter will often cause a sentence or paragraph to be misunderstood, and made to convey the reverse of what was intended. Notes of interrogation should not be omitted from a letter when questions are asked, though many consider it a waste of time to make use of them. Notes of exclamation, when required, materially assist the clearer understanding of a passage, which, without them, might have a vague meaning. It is not the fashion in these days to accuse oneself of writing a stupid letter, a dull letter, or an uninteresting letter, one’s friends are only too likely to take one at one’s own valuation, and to endorse the written verdict; while the solecism of laying the blame of bad writing on pens, ink, and paper is confined to the servants’ hall, where writing materials are perhaps not always of the best quality, and seldom ready to hand. In answering a letter, it is a great proof of a poor imagination, besides being extremely tedious, when each paragraph of the letter under treatment is minutely paraphrased. Questions naturally demand answers, and important facts call for comment; but trivial remarks and observations, perhaps pleasantly put, were never expected to be returned to their author with poor platitudes attached to them.
A postscript was formerly supposed to convey the pith or gist of a lady’s letter—a poor compliment, it must be confessed, to her intelligence; it is now considered a vulgarism to put P.S. at the bottom of a letter containing the few last words, if something is remembered when the letter is concluded that should have been said, it is added without apology.
Answering Invitations.—The extremely rude habit of not answering notes as soon as they are received is generally done from idleness and a habit of shirking trouble, though, as the answer must ultimately be written, it is hard to see what exertion is saved by not writing it at the proper time. Of the inconvenience to the sender from not receiving the answer required, no one seems to think, and there are some who labour under the delusion that it is “fine,” and increases their importance, to keep people waiting. The inconvenience to a hostess can hardly be exaggerated. Rooms are not elastic, and having asked the proper number of people, she can ask no more until she knows that some of those invited, as is generally the case in most parties, cannot come. Every day she is kept waiting lessens the time for inviting others; and then only those with whom she is sufficiently intimate to give a very short invitation. Politeness requires that an invitation to dinner should be answered at once; if the servant waits, it should be returned by him; if it is left, an answer should be sent at the earliest moment; if it is sent by post, the reply should be sent by the next one. It is no more trouble to write the answer at once than to wait for the next day. The only valid reason that a lady can have for delay is when her husband is out, and she is not quite sure about his engagements. Of course, if he is only out for a short time it is permissible to wait till he comes in; but if, as is sometimes the case, he is away from home for a day or two, she should answer at once to that effect, and write decisively on hearing his determination. Answers to At Homes, even when they bear the request “R.S.V.P.,” need not be sent so promptly; but as soon as it is quite clear to a lady that she cannot go, it is courteous to say so. Answers to invitations to concerts, private theatricals, or any entertainment where the guests are to be seated, should be sent immediately, as it is necessary for a hostess to know the number of chairs at her disposal. Answers to wedding invitations should also be returned immediately.
The art of making excuses is one which people much in society find it absolutely necessary to cultivate if they wish to retain any command over their own time, movements, and even property. Tact, or savoir vivre, is the key to this art, while frankness might certainly be termed the lock in which to place the key when making polite excuses. Frankness appeals both to the good sense and to the common sense of the one to whom it is addressed; it softens the refusal, of whatever character it may be; it gives the assurance that no slight is intended. There is one stereotyped excuse, a “previous engagement”; but between friends, and by those with whom frankness is practised, this explanation is carried a step further, and the nature of the previous engagement is mentioned, and the name of him or her with whom it is made. A downright refusal savours of ungraciousness and discourtesy; whereas a polite excuse is compassed by a little judicious temporising, which in a way breaks the force of a refusal. The difficulty of making polite excuses is sometimes increased when a verbal invitation is given to a husband and wife, and they are not able to consult as to whether they are unanimous in refusing it. The way of extrication is for the one to refer to the engagements of the other, and leave it in doubt for the moment.
Various excuses are permissible in answer to all save invitations to dinner; this must be accepted, unless a bonâ fide engagement or illness can be pleaded in excuse. Polite excuses to unwelcome requests demand even more readiness of thought and speech, as refusals to such, if not guardedly conveyed, are likely to give offence, or to create an unpleasant feeling of annoyance.