These forms may be abundantly absurd, but still they must be attended to; for one half the world does and always will observe them, and the other half is at a great disadvantage if it does not. Intercourse is constantly taking place, and an awkward man of letters, in the society of a polished man of the world, is like a strong man contending with a skilful fencer. Mr. Addison says, that he once saw the ablest mathematician in the kingdom utterly embarrassed, from not knowing whether he ought to stand or sit when my lord duke drank his health.
Some of the many errors which are liable to be committed through ignorance of usage, are pleasantly pointed out in the following story, which is related by a French writer.
The Abbé Cosson, professor in the Collége Mazarin, thoroughly accomplished in the art of teaching, saturated with Greek, Latin, and literature, considered himself a perfect well of science: he had no conception that a man who knew all Persius and Horace by heart could possibly commit an error—above all, an error at table. But it was not long before he discovered his mistake. One day, after dining with the Abbé de Radonvillers at Versailles, in company with several courtiers and marshals of France, he was boasting of the rare acquaintance with etiquette and custom which he had exhibited at dinner. The Abbé Delille, who heard this eulogy upon his own conduct, interrupted his harangue, by offering to wager that he had committed at least a hundred improprieties at the table. “How is it possible!” exclaimed Cosson. “I did exactly like the rest of the company.”
“What absurdity!” said the other. “You did a thousand things which no one else did. First, when you sat down at the table, what did you do with your napkin?” “My napkin? Why just what every body else did with theirs. I unfolded it entire]y, and fastened it to my buttonhole.” “Well, my dear friend,” said Delille, “you were the only one that did that, at all events. No one hangs up his napkin in that style; they are contented with placing it on their knees. And what did you, do when you took your soup?” “Like the others, I believe. I took my spoon in one hand, and my fork in the other—” “Your fork! Who ever eat soup with a fork?—But to proceed; after your soup, what did you eat?” “A fresh egg.” “And what did you do with the shell?” “Handed it to the servant who stood behind my chair.” “With out breaking it?” “Without breaking it, of course.” “Well, my dear Abbé, nobody ever eats an egg without breaking the shell. And after your egg—?” “I asked the Abbé Radonvillers to send me a piece of the hen near him.” “Bless my soul! a piece of the hen? You never speak of hens excepting in the barn-yard. You should have asked for fowl or chicken. But you say nothing of your mode of drinking.” “Like all the rest, I asked for claret and champagne.” “Let me inform you, then, that persons always ask for claret wine and champagne wine. But, tell me, how did you eat your bread?” “Surely I did that properly. I cut it with my knife, in the most regular manner possible.” “Bread should always be broken, not cut. But the coffee, how did you manage it?” “It was rather too hot, and I poured a little of it into my saucer.” “Well, you committed here the greatest fault of all. You should never pour your coffee into the saucer, but always drink it from the cup.” The poor Abbé was confounded. He felt that though one might be master of the seven sciences, yet that there was another species of knowledge which, if less dignified, was equally important.
This occurred many years ago, but there is not one of the observances neglected by the Abbé Cosson, which is not enforced with equal rigidness in the present day.
CHAPTER I.
GOOD BREEDING.
The formalities of refined society were at first established for the purpose of facilitating the intercourse of persons of the same standing, and increasing the happiness of all to whom they apply. They are now kept up, both to assist the convenience of intercourse and to prevent too great familiarity. If they are carried too far, and escape from the control of good sense, they become impediments to enjoyment. Among the Chinese they serve only the purpose of annoying to an incalculable degree. “The government,” says De Marcy, in writing of China, “constantly applies itself to preserve, not only in the court and among the great, but among the people themselves, a constant habit of civility and courtesy. The Chinese have an infinity of books upon such subjects; one of these treatises contains more than three thousand articles.— Everything is pointed out with the most minute detail; the manner of saluting, of visiting, of making presents, of writing letters, of eating, etc.: and these customs have the force of laws—no one can dispense with them. There is a special tribunal at Peking, of which it is one of the chief duties, to ensure the observance of these civil ordinances?”
One would think that one was here reading an account of the capital of France. It depends, then, upon the spirit in which these forms are observed, whether their result shall be beneficial or not. The French and the Chinese are the most formal of all the nations. Yet the one is the stiffest and most distant; the other, the easiest and most social.
“We may define politeness,” says La Bruyère, “though we cannot tell where to fix it in practice. It observes received usages and customs, is bound to times and places, and is not the same thing in the two sexes or in different conditions. Wit alone cannot obtain it: it is acquired and brought to perfection by emulation. Some dispositions alone are susceptible of politeness, as others are only capable of great talents or solid virtues. It is true politeness puts merit forward, and renders it agreeable, and a man must have eminent qualifications to support himself without it.” Perhaps even the greatest merit cannot successfully straggle against unfortunate and disagreeable manners. Lord Chesterfield says that the Duke of Marlborough owed his first promotions to the suavity of his manners, and that without it he could not have risen.
La Bruyère has elsewhere given this happy definition of politeness, the other passage being rather a description of it. “Politeness seems to be a certain care, by the manner of our words and actions, to make others pleased with us and themselves.”