ON GENERAL SOCIETY.
To cultivate the art of pleasing is not only worthy of our ambition, but it is the dictate of humanity to render ourselves as agreeable as possible to those around us. While, therefore, we condemn that false system of philosophy which recommends the practice of flattery and deception for the purpose of winning the regard of those with whom we come in contact, we would rather urge the sincere and open conduct which is founded on moral principle, and which looks to the happiness of others, not through any sordid and selfish aim, but for the reward which virtuous actions bestow. Indeed, we do not discover the necessity of duplicity and hypocrisy in our intercourse with society. The virtues and the graces are not antagonistic. The sacrifice of personal convenience for the accommodation of others; the repression of our egotism and self-esteem; the occasional endurance of whatever is disagreeable or irksome to us through consideration for the infirmities of others, are not only some of the characteristics of true politeness, but are in the very spirit of benevolence, and, we might add, religion.
The English have a rule of etiquette, that if you are introduced to a person of higher position in society than yourself, you must never recognize him when you meet, until you see whether he intends to notice you. The meaning of this rule is, that you should be polite to nobody until you see whether they mean to be polite to you, which is simply refusing politeness in the name of politeness itself. There is a story of an unfortunate clerk of the Treasury, who dined one day at the Beef-steak Club, where he sat next to a duke, who conversed freely with him at dinner. The next day, meeting the duke in the street, he saluted him. But his grace, drawing himself up, said: "May I know, sir, to whom I have the honor of speaking?" "Why, we dined together at the club yesterday—I am Mr. Timms, of the Treasury," was the reply. "Then," said the duke, turning on his heel, "Mr. Timms, of the Treasury, I wish you a good morning." Though this anecdote is related in the English books as an example of etiquette, it is undoubtedly true that Mr. Timms, of the Treasury, was the politest man of the two; for even if he had made a mistake in being a little familiar in his politeness, had the duke been really a polite man he would have made the best of it, by returning the salutation, instead of the brutal mortification which he heaped upon the clerk of the Treasury. Everybody has read the anecdote of Washington, who politely returned the salutation of a negro, which caused his friend to ask if he "bowed to a negro." "To be sure I do; do you think that I would allow a negro to outdo me in politeness?" said Washington. This is the American rule. Everybody in this country may be polite to everybody—and if any one is too haughty and too ill-bred to return the salutation, with him alone rests the responsibility and the shame.
A lady in company should never exhibit any anxiety to sing or play; but if she intends to do so, she should not affect to refuse when asked, but obligingly accede at once. If you cannot sing, or do not choose to, say so with seriousness and gravity, and put an end to the expectation promptly. After singing once or twice, cease and give place to others. There is an old saying, that a singer can with the greatest difficulty be set agoing, and when agoing, cannot be stopped.
Never commend a lady's musical skill to another lady who herself plays.
Modern Chesterfields, who pretend to be superlatively well-bred, tell one never to be "in a hurry." "To be in a hurry," say they, "is ill-bred." The dictum is absurd. It is sometimes necessary to be hurried. In the streets of the city one must hasten with the multitude. To walk or lounge, as people who have nothing else to do, in Wall Street, or Broadway, would be out of place and absurd. Judgment requires us, not less than manners, to conform slightly with the behavior of those with whom we associate or are forced to remain.
Never lose your temper at cards, and particularly avoid the exhibition of anxiety or vexation at want of success. If you are playing whist, not only keep your temper, but hold your tongue; any intimation to your partner is decidedly ungentlemanly.
Do not take upon yourself to do the honors in another man's house, nor constitute yourself master of the ceremonies, as you will thereby offend the host and hostess.
Do not press before a lady at a theater or a concert. Always yield to her, if practicable, your seat and place. Do not sit when she is standing, without offering her your place. Consult not only your own ease, but also the comfort of those around you.
Do not cross a room in an anxious manner, and force your way up to a lady merely to receive a bow, as by so doing you attract the eyes of the company toward her. If you are desirous of being noticed by any one in particular, put yourself in their way as if by accident, and do not let them see that you have sought them out; unless, indeed, there be something very important to communicate.