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AMERICAN GENTLEMAN'S 
 
 GUIDE TO POLITENESS 
 
 AND 
 
 FASHION. 
 
THK 
 
 AMEEICAN GENTLEMAN'S 
 
 aUIDE TO POLITENESS 
 
 AND 
 
 FASHION; 
 
 OB, 
 
 FAMILIAR LETTERS TO HIS NEPHEWS, 
 BY HEOTIY LUNETTES. 
 
 The good old name of Gentlejlvn. 
 
 Tenntson. 
 
 People somciunes complain of writers who talk of "I, I." * * * * When 
 I epeak to you of myself, I am' speaking to you of yourself also. Is it possible 
 that you do not feel that it is so I Victor Huao. 
 
 NEW EDITION, CAREFULLY REVISED BY THE AUTHOR. 
 
 PHILADELPHIA: 
 
 J. B. LIPPINCOTT & CO. 
 
 1863. 
 
G6 
 
 Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1863, by 
 
 J. B. LIPPINCOTT & CO., 
 
 in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the Eastern Dis- 
 trict of Pennsylvania. 
 
HIS YOUNG COUNTRYMEN, 
 
 THIS UNPRETENDIXa VOLUME, IS, WITH AFFECT f ON ATE PRIDE, 
 INSCRIBED BY 
 
 TEE AUTHOR. 
 
 248137 
 
INTEODUCTION. 
 
 ** I LANa ha'e thought, my youthful friends, 
 
 A something to have sent you, 
 Tho' it may serve no other end 
 
 Than just a kind memento : 
 But how the subject-theme may gang 
 
 Let time and chance determine ; 
 Perhaps it may turn out a sang, 
 
 Perhaps turn out a sermon/' 
 
TABLE OF COl^TENTS 
 
 LETTER I. 
 DRESS. 
 
 PBOPRIRTT of conforming to Fashion, with a due Regard for individual PecuII- 
 arities of Appearance — Eccentricity of Taste in Dress — Obedience to the Lawi 
 of Convention— The vagaries of Genius, in this respect— Absurdity and 
 Aflfectation originated by the Example of Byron — All indiflference and neglect 
 to be avoided, with regard to Dress — Anecdote of Dr. Johnson and the Sid- 
 dons — Porson, the Greelc Scholar — Horace Greeley — Aphorism — Habits of a 
 distinguished Parisian savant — Example and opinion of Washington with 
 reference to Dress — Partiality of Americans for Black, as the color of dress- 
 clothes— Practice of Men in other Countries, in the selection of Colors — 
 Morning Costume of an English Gentleman— Every English Gentleman use- 
 fully employed during a Portion of eacli Day— Dr, Johnson's Test of good 
 Taste in Dress— Tlie golden mean in Matters of Dress— Ceremonious Costume 
 of a Gentleman -Mode of wearing the Hair and Beard— Necessity for artistic 
 Taste in one's Barber — All extremes of Fashion in bad Taste — Various Absur- 
 dities in this respect, inconsistent with the "keeping" of modern Costura&— 
 Collars, their size, shape, &c. — Sleeve-buttons — Bad taste of wearing flash 
 Stones— Use of Diamonds in Dress— Simplicity in the Appendages of Dress, 
 the characteristic of true refinement — Signet-rings — Distinctive Points of 
 difiference between the exterior of a Gentleman and of a Loafer — All staring 
 patterns in Gentlemen's clothes exceptionable — A white suit throughout, for 
 warm Weather — Thin Cravats — Body Linen — Kotzebue's test of high-breed- 
 ing— Strength and Comfort the essential Characteristics of working Garments 
 — Fitness and propriety even in matters of Dress, indicative of a well-regu- 
 
 * lated Mind — Every American should aim to be a true Gentleman — Importance 
 of Trifles, when viewed in the aggregate — Influence of Drese, etc., upon 
 Character and Manner — Wearing Gloves in Dancing — White Gloves alone 
 unexceptionable for ceremonious Evening Occasions — Gloves suitable for the 
 Street and Morning Visits— Briglit-colored Gloves in bad <a»— Illustrative 
 Anecdote — Over-Garments — Variety sanctioned by Fashion — Becomingnesa 
 of different Stylos — Inconvenience and ill-appearance of Shawls — When 
 Suitable— South American Poncho— Anecdote— New reading of Lord Nel- 
 
 1* 
 
X CONTENTS. 
 
 ■on'g celebrated Naval Orders— Difference between Talking and Writing, 
 the Author's Apology for numerous Defects — The Mill-boy of the Slashes— 
 The Author unacquainted with the Elegancies of modern Fashionable 
 Nomenclature — Terms of agreement between the Author and his Corres- 
 pondents, 2i 
 
 LETTER II. 
 DRESS— < Continued.) 
 
 STORIES AND ANECDOTES ILLUSTBATITK OF DRESS. 
 
 Thk Hero or the Ball-Room.— The Author's Liking for Mass Meetings — A 
 F6te — Louis Philippe and the Militia Officer— A real Soldier conquered by 
 the Fair !— The " Observed of all Observers "—A Morning Visit— Dissection 
 of the " Observed of all Observers 1" — The Hero of the Ball-Room is con- 
 signed to the " Tomb of the Capulets " in a bright, pea-green, thin Muslin 
 
 Shooting-Jacket I .48 
 
 Anecdote of Bulwer, the Novelist, .48 
 
 The Green Mountain Boy and his New Cloak, 49 
 
 Count Orloff at the " Peace Convention," 60 
 
 The Fashionable Uat.— A Young Clergyman resolves to Visit " the City " — 
 His Plans for Economy — A new Black Coat — A Secret Design — Fashionable 
 Ridicule — The Young Clergyman makes the mortifying Discovery that he is 
 wearing a " Shocking Bad Uat " — Reluctantly determines to buy a New One 
 —A Traveller in an Old " Kossuth " — Test of what is Admissible in the Dress 
 of the Clergy— Reflections of a " Sadder and a Wiser " Man— The Uncle and 
 his Little Nephew — " Bradbrook's " and the " Pretty Coat"— Another Secret 
 
 Design— The Tyrant of Social Life, CO 
 
 The Chief Justice— and the Travelling Gloves of an Exquisite, . . .54 
 Gov, Marcy akd the Parisians. — The American Secretary of Legation at St. 
 Cloud, at a Court Dinner — Address of the Turkish Ambassador— ^The Dis- 
 tinctive Mark of a Gentleman, 66 
 
 The Red Cornelian Pate. — Sketch of an Elegant leaning upon a Bass-viol — 
 Poetry of the Female Voice— An Alpine Party— A Lady's Avowal — Cox- 
 combs — A Mysterious Stranger — My Lundy-Lane Sword — A Figure of 
 Speech appropriate to a Sportsman's Daughter — The " Weed " and the Shawl 
 —An Apple— The " Tug of War " — The Pitiable Finger !• and the Cranberry 
 P4t6— Design of the " Mysterious Stranger "—Jack the Giant-Killer and his 
 
 Victim— A Revelation— The Dove and the Vulture, 51 
 
 Postscript to Letter II. — Letter to the Author from a Distinguished Man of 
 Fashion — Directions for the Details of Gentlemen's Dress, on various Occa- 
 sions — Wedding Costume — Morning and Evening — Evening Dress — Dress 
 for Morning Visits — Costume for Bachelors' Dinner-Parties — General Re- 
 marks upon Colors, etc. — Eflfect of Black Dress — Blue — Brown — Anecdote of 
 Beau Brummel — Opinion of a French Critic — Importance of the " Cut " of 
 Garments — Ease the First Essential — An Artistic Air — Wadding, or Stuffing, 
 to be.U3ed in moderation— Sensible Observations of a Man of Discriminating 
 Taste, Ct 
 
CXJNTENTS. SI 
 
 LETTER in 
 MANNER. 
 
 kmnaax of a Celebrated Observer of Human Nature— Manner indicative of 
 Character — Benefits of Care and Attention in Youth — The Fashionable Man- 
 ner of the Day — Danger of Affectation in Manner — Americans too often 
 Caricature their European Models — Good Sense and Manly Independence 
 the best Guides in the Formation of Manner— True Politeness — Elegant 
 definition of Politeness by a celebrated Author— Good Breeding inseparable 
 from the Character of a Gentleman— Sir Philip Sidney, a Christian Gen- 
 tleman — Manner the proper expression of Mental Qualities — The Laws of 
 Convention — Their proper Use and Applicability — Conduct towards Supe- 
 riors in Age and Station one Test of Good Breeding— Example of Washing- 
 ton in this respect^Polished Manners of the Men of Revolutionary Days — 
 Bad Taste of Slang Language and Disrespectful Familiarity in speaking of 
 Superiors or Parents— Reverence rendered to Age by the Ancients — Rude- 
 ness of "Young America" in this respect— The Law of Kindness a sure 
 Correction — Possibility of Benefit to be derived from the consideration of 
 those who have seen the World — Disadvantages of early Neglect of Manner 
 — Improvement always possible, at any age — Benefit of the early Acquisi- 
 tion of Habits of Self-Control and Self-Possession— Advantage of proper 
 Examples in this respect, 71 
 
 riiK Handsome Engineer. — A Railroad Depot and a Dilemma — The Field- 
 Book and Soiled Boots — The Blessings of Civilization — An Honest Saxon 
 Word — Tlie Charge — The Arrival — A Recognition — A Metamorphosis — The 
 Economy of driving in Dress-Boots — A Whisper— The Secret of the Charm 
 of Manner, 79 
 
 Am AFTKa-DiNNER CoTKBiK- — The St. Nicholas Hotel and Santa Claus — A Plea- 
 sant Meeting— A Social Re-Union— The Dramatis PersoncB. of the Occasion 
 —A Sketch—" Willard's," at Washington— The weary Child— The Courteous 
 Strangers — A Grateful Tribute— Charge against American Ladies— South- 
 ern Manner— The Stupid Porter and the cont re-temps— An Inference — 
 A Scene in a Country Tavern— A French-Woman and a Yankee-Woman— 
 Jonathan and the Snuff-box — A Tooth-ache and a Rocking-chair — Sympathy 
 and Vivacity — The Climax of Impatience 1 88 
 
 A. Polite Young Irelanokb. — A Fight — An Exclamation— A Fair Vision, . 91 
 
 LETTER IV. 
 
 MATHER— (ConUnued.) 
 
 Practical Directions.— Senator Sumner's appropriate Sentence — Primary 
 importance of Manner at Home — A reiterated Charge — Manner to Parents — 
 Unvarying confidence and reverence due to a Father— Tenderness of Man- 
 ner to a Mother— Example of Washington— A Revolutionary Ball— Natur« 
 the best Teacher of Duty— Too great familiarity, even with Relations, ol^eo- 
 
Xll CX)NTKNTS. 
 
 tlonablo— Manner to Brothers and Sisters— No assumption of superlorltj 
 justified by Birthright, or Circumstances — Every Man the Guardian of his 
 Sisters— A Sister's Love — Manner to a Wife — The preservation of her Aflfec- 
 tion— The "Spectator," and a Sketch of an Old-School Husband— Impressive 
 Teaching — A Plea for Old-Pashioned Authors — Reverence for the Lares 
 should be inviolate — Tlie Graces of Manner always discerned by the gentler 
 Sex — The Sensibility of Woman — Domestic Politeness — Cheerful Manner in 
 conferring Favors — Importance of Trifles, in this respect — Tlie true noble- 
 ness of Manhood — Aphorism of the Latinists — Manner to Children — Their In- 
 nocence and Susceptibility— The influence of Example in this regard— Children 
 judges of Character — Power of the Law of Love over the Young— Supremacy 
 of Moral Obligation— Manner not to be regarded as insignificant by the 
 Christian Gentleman — Manner to the Unfortunate — Towards Servants and 
 Inferiors — Arrogance to be avoided — Mode of addressing Domestics — Queen 
 Elizabeth and her Courtiers— EfiFect of a pleasant Word and a pleasant Tone 
 — Peculiar sensitiveness of the Uneducated in tliis respect — The professional 
 figure of an old Soldier .'-Manifestations of Sympathy for Inferiors in Sta- 
 tion — Readily instructed by a kind Manner, 98 
 
 ANECDOTES AND TALES, ILLOSTKATIVE OF MANNER. 
 
 Emperors not always well-bred. — Manner of Napoleon le Grand to Women 
 — A Family Levee — Reply of the Mother of Bonaparte to her Son — Napo- 
 leon's stringent enforcement nf Court Rules — The First Consul and the Lady's 
 Train — Josephine's timidity , nl her Husband's brutality — Maria Louise's 
 
 Bridal-Scene — An almost sacrilegious Misnomer, 104 
 
 A Father's Rebuke. — A Steamer on the Ohio- The two Friends — Cabin-Chit- 
 chat — ^Youthful mirth reproved — The effoct of a Scene — ^The fortunate Guest — 
 
 A Family Mansion and Family Group— A " Study," 105 
 
 The Moral Sublime : An Anecdote, 110 
 
 The Sailor and his Mother, Ill 
 
 Thb Brothers. — Early Separation— Home Meetings— The pomposity of the 
 Alderman— A Family Quarrel— The respectful Son — The Recording Angel — 
 
 Charley visits the City— A Morning Call— Its Result, Ill 
 
 Washington Irving's Sketch of an old English Gentleman, . . . • 118 
 
 The Poet Rogers and his Man Friday, 114 
 
 The Family Green-Room, or Lifb Behind the Scenes.— An old Soldier 
 Weather-bound— A Morning Sortie — An Invitation— Youthful Hospitality— 
 A Nursery Fixture — The " Eldest Son and Hope of the House " — A playful 
 Salutation— The " Land of Promise" — An Armful — Lunch — An unexpected 
 Interposition— An Overland Journey— A Catastrophe— Rubicon Crossing— 
 The Dolphin— The baked Apple— A " Poor Man "—The " Cup of Cold Water" 
 —A Stick for each — Spectacled Reconnoitering— Cheerful Words— Devotional 
 Scene — Scientific Inquiry— A Capture— Escape by Stratagem— Almost a 
 Martyr— The old Soldier re-visits the " Mess " of his Camp-ground — A dan- 
 gerous Invader — Green-room Asides — A Rehearsal — College Comforts — A 
 Bketcli by one of 'em— A Stage-Trick— Anecdote of John Kemble, the Actor— 
 ADisclalmer and a Commentary— Exit of a "Star"— Table-Talk, . llf 
 
CONTENTS. Xiii 
 
 LETTER Y. 
 
 MANNER IN DETAIL. 
 
 Maknrr in thk Street — Upon Meeting a Friend or Acqaaintance — Proper Mode 
 of Salutation— " Drawing " Gloves — Stopping to Talk— Tact and Ease- 
 Leaving a Companion in the Street — Manner to Inferiors in the Street— Kule, 
 when meeting a Gentleman-Acquaintance walking with Ladies whom you do 
 not know— When you are acquainted with both Ladies and Gentlemen 
 whom you may meetA-Shaking Hands wiih Ladies in the Street at Meeting 
 or at Parting— Courteous Phrases— Parting Ceremonies — Precedence in the 
 Street — Taking the Arm of another Man— Walking with Ladies — Proper 
 relative Position— Opening Doors, etc. — "When meeting Ladies— Upon being 
 stopped by a Lady— Manner to a Stranger Lady— When you wish to Speak 
 with a Lady in the Street — When wishing to join a Lady in her Promenade — 
 Proper Caution in this respect — Rule respecting the Recognition of a Lady — 
 An Awkward Third— Considerations due to Ladies in case of Street-Acci- 
 dents — Courtesy to Ladies who are alighting from a Carriage — Custom of 
 ofTering the Arm to Ladies in the Street, when ascending Steps, etc. — On 
 entering Church, etc., with Ladies — As one of a Travelling- Party, etc. — Gait 
 in walking with elderly Persons or Ladies generally — Staring at Ladies in 
 Public Places — Manner to Ladies entering an Opera House, at a Pump- 
 Room, etc. — Audible Comments upon Strangers, ..,,,, 128 
 
 SKETCHES ILLUSTRATIVE OF MANNERS. 
 
 The " Cut " Portuguese.— Newspapers and Coffee — West Point and a Discus- 
 sion—A Foreigner's Revenge, 135 
 
 The Broken Fan : a Lady's Lament, 186 
 
 The "Iron Duke," and Youthful Reminiscences, 187 
 
 Unexpected Rencontre — A Stroll and a Compliment — A Gentleman of the Old 
 School in the Street— A Tribute— A Daughter's Boast— A Wedding— The 
 Bridal Tour— The Rail- Car— An Intruder— True Politeness— The Glass of 
 
 Medical-water — The Denouement, 137 
 
 The Lktter-Box. — An Exciting Exclamation — A Group for a Painter— A 
 Query — Entreaties — An Explanatory Prelude — The Fruitless Search— The 
 Appeal— A Dialogue — An Admission— Musical Sounds — A Prosy Inquiry — 
 The Summing up — The Damper — The Wish of a True Woman — An Insinua- 
 tion — A Description drawn from Life — A Valuable Portrait^ — A Tribute to 
 American Gentlemen — An Illustration — Stage Politeness to a Lady — Acted 
 
 Poetry : the Poetry of Real Life ! 141 
 
 The Prisoner op the Colliseum. — A Moonlight Walk — A Secret Appeal — The 
 Fair Epicurean — The Recitation — An Apparition — The Lasso — A Witty 
 Reply— The Guerdon — The Clarion-note— A Brilliant — Horseback on the 
 Campagnia of Rome — The Pope's Cort6ge — A Recognition — A Denouement — 
 A Confession and the Retort Courteous— A Sudden Transformation— The 
 Beautiful Arm— Powers' Studio— The Artist's Discovery— An Intimation, . 149 
 
XIV CONTENTS. 
 
 LETTER VI. 
 
 MANNER— ( Continued.) 
 
 BULBS TO BK 0B3BRVBD IN MAKINQ MOBNIKQ VISITS, AND IN SOCIETY OENKBAUr. 
 
 Ayersion to Ceremonious Morning Visits— Proper Hours — Suitable Brevity — 
 Character of Conversation — Card of Announcement — Visits made at Hotels 
 —Precautionary Rules — Mode of entering a Drawiug-Room — Drawing- 
 Roora Rules — When Meeting other Visitors — When interrupted — When wish- 
 ing to leave a Message or make an Appointment, etc. — Proper Courtesy 
 when Visitors are taking Leave — Short Visits of mere Ceremony — Attendance 
 upon Ladies making Morning Visits — Attentions Suitable — Introducing — 
 Ladies to take precedence in rising to go away — Gentlemen calling together 
 — Dress, etc., — When awaiting Ladies in a Public Parlor — Standing when 
 Ladies are Standing— Offering the Arm— Suitable Gait— Minutia of Politeness 
 — Morning Wedding-Receptions — Whom you should Congratulate — General 
 Directions — Tact and Good Taste — Leaving Cards — Visits on New- Year's Day 
 — Ceremonious Intercourse with Superiors — Manner at Church — Mrs. Cha- 
 pone's Rule — Self-possession one of the Distinctive Characteristics of Good- 
 Breeding — Whispering, Laughing, Staring, etc , to be avoided — Retaining 
 the Hat not admissible — Salutations at Church — Attending Ladies at Con- 
 certs, Lectures, Opera, etc. etc. — Propriety of Retaining the Seat you take on 
 Entering — Incommoding Others — Courtesy due to Those near you — Manner 
 of well-bred Persons in a Picture Gallery, etc., — Reverence due to the 
 Beautiful and the Good — Partaking of Refreshments in Public Places — Dis- 
 courtesy of any Semblance of Intrusiveness — Etiquette in Joining a Party 
 — Politeness not to be laid aside in Business-intercourse — Elaborate cere- 
 mony unsuitable, at times — The Secret of Popularity — Manner at a Public 
 Table — Courtesy to Others— Self-importance a Proof of Vulgarity—" Fast " 
 Feeding — Pardonable Luxuriousnesss — Staring — Listening to Private Con- 
 versations—Rudeness of Loud Talking and Laughing, Slirugs, Glances, or 
 Whispers — Courtesy due to a Lady entering a Dining-Room — To Older Per- 
 sons — Meeting or passing Ladies in Public Houses— Influence of Trifles in 
 the Formation of Character— Frequent Discourtesy in ignoring the Presence 
 of Ladies in Public Parlors, etc. etc.— Politeness due to Women, in Practical 
 Emei-gencies- Nocturnal Peccadilloes— Travelling— True Rules— Courtesy 
 to Ladies, to Age, to the Suffering— Indecorum of using Tobacco, etc. etc., 
 in Public Conveyances— Ceremony a Shield, but not an Excuse— A Challenge 
 
 Extraordinary — Anecdote of P- , the Poet^ — Practice and Tact essential 
 
 to secure Polish of Manner — Life-long Stumbling — Practical Rules, the 
 result of Annoying Experience— Carriage Hire — Driving with Ladies, etc., — 
 Manner in Social Intercourse — As Host — Etiquette of Dinners at Home — 
 Precedence — Distinguished Guests— A Lady — A Gentleman — Reception and 
 Introduction of Guests — True Hospitality as Host, better than mere Cere- 
 mony — Manner towards those unacquainted with Conventional Rules — 
 Manner at Routs, at Home — Attention to Guests compatible with good ton 
 —Anecdote — Respect to be rendered to all one's Aquaintancea in General 
 
CONTENTS. XV 
 
 Socfely— To Married Ladies— To Strangers— The Distinction thus Exhibited 
 between the Under-bred and the genuine Man of the World — ^No one entitled 
 to Self-Excuses in this Regard 16T 
 
 ANKCDOTES, SKETCHES, KTO. 
 
 A PR0PHB8T.— Table-Tallc— A Rescue and a Lady's Gratitude— Jealousy Dis- 
 armed — Backwoodsmen — Cordiality— Costume and Courtesy — Retort Cour- 
 teous — An Interpolation and a Protest — Mr. Clay's Popularity with the Fair 
 —Secret of his Success in Society — Mr. Clay and the Belle Esprit — A Defi- 
 nition of Politeness— A Comical Illustration— A Pun— A well-turned Com- 
 pliment — Unconsciousness of Self — A Stranger's Impressions — A Poetic 
 Tribute 1T9 
 
 The Detoteb of the BsAnTiFUL. — A Morning Drive— Anticipation— Spiritual 
 Enjoyment — Discord — A Disappointment, 184- 
 
 The Soldier's Wifh and the Ghoul. — A Journey — The truly Braye— The 
 Arrival — A Chapter of Accidents — Self-Reproach— The Ghoul— The Calm- 
 ness of Despair — The Versatility of Woman — But a Step from the Sublime to 
 the Ridiculous — The Ghoul again — A Defiant Spirit — Punctilious Ceremony, 186 
 
 A Fair Champion.— A Query and its Solution— A Sketch — Raillery— A Tete-a- 
 Tete — An Interruption — " Fashionable " Hospitality — Genuine Hospitality — 
 A Mother's Advice— An indignant Spirit— Rebellion, 193 
 
 The Man of One Idea. — Au Object for Worship— A Soiree — A Polite Collo- 
 quy — The Host at Ease — A pleasing Hostess— The Climax, . . , 198 
 
 Young America— an Anecdote, 200 
 
 The Practical Philosopher.— A handsome Aristocrat — An Accusation — 
 A Courteous Neighbor — Fall of a " Fixed Star " — Favorite Aphorism of Mrs. 
 Combe — The Daughter of the Siddons, 801 
 
 LETTER VII. 
 
 HEALTH. 
 the toilet, as connected with health. 
 The True Basis of Health — Temperance an inclusive Term — Foundation of the 
 Eminence of J. Q. Adams — His Life a Model for the Young — His early Habits 
 — Vigorous Old Age — Example of Franklin in regard to Temperance — 
 Illustrations afforded by our National History— The Bath — Varying Opi- 
 nions and Constitutions — Imprudent use of the Bath— Bishop Heber — 
 General Directions— The Art of Swimming— Sponging— Deficiencies of the 
 Toilet in England — Collateral Benefits arising from habitual Sponge-bath- 
 ing— The Hair— All Fantastic Dressing of the Hair in bad taste — Use of 
 Pomades — Vulgarity of using Strong Perfumes — The Teetli — Use of Tobacco 
 — Smoke Dispellers — The Nails — The Feet — A complete Wardrobe essential 
 to Health— Early Rising — Its manifold Advantages — Example of Washington, 
 Franklin, etc., in this respect — Daniel Webster's Eulogy upon Morning- 
 Retiring early — Truth of a Medical Dogma — Opposition of Fashion and 
 Health — Early Hours essential to the Student — Importance of the early Ac- 
 quisition of Correct Habits in this Regard — Illustration — A combination of 
 
XVI CONTENTS. 
 
 Right Habits essential to Health— Exercise— Walking— Pure Air— The Lungs 
 of » City— Superiority of Morning Air— An Erect Carriage of the Body in 
 Walking— Periodical Exercise— Necessary Caution— The Unwise Student — A 
 Warning — A Knowledge of Dietetics and Physiology requisite to the Preser- 
 vation of Health — Suitable Works on these Subjects— Riding and Driving 
 the Accoraplishmenta of a Gentleman — A Horse a desirable Possession- 
 Testimony of Dr. Johnson— The Pride of Skill — Needful Caution— Judicious 
 Selection of Ijocale for these Modes of Exercise— Dr. Beatie's Tribute to 
 Nature — Importance of Temperance in Eating and Drinking, as regards 
 Health— The Cultivation of Simple Tastes in Eating— Proper Preparation of 
 Food important to Health — Re-action of the Human Constitution — Effect of 
 Bodily Health upon the Mind — The pernicious Use of Condiments, etc., etc. 
 Young Ambition's Laddkr.— Hours for Meals — Dining Late— Injurious Eflfects 
 of Prolonged Abstinence — The Stimulus of Distension — Repletion — Neces- 
 sity of deliberate and thorough Mastication — Judicious Use of Time in 
 Eating — The Use of Wine, Tobacco, etc. — The truly Free! — Dr. Johnson's 
 Opinion — Novel Argument against the Habits of Smoking and Drinking — 
 Advice of Sir Walter Raleigh to the Young — Then and Now— Council of a 
 "Looker-on" in this Utilitarian Age — Erroneous Impressions — Authority 
 of a celebrated Writer— Social Duties— The unbent Bow— Rational Eqjoy- 
 ment the wisest Obedience to the Natural Laws — A determined Pursuit in 
 Life essential to Happiness and Health — Too entire Devotion to a Single 
 Object of Pursuit, unwise — Arcadian Dreams — Attainable Realities— Truisms 
 — Decay of the Social and Domestic Virtues — Human Sacrifices — Relaxa- 
 tions and Amusements requisite to Health — Superiority of Amusements in 
 the Open Air for Students and Sedentary Persons generally — Benefits of 
 Cheerful Companionship^Objection to Games, etc., that require Mental 
 Exertion— Converse Rule — Fashionable Watering-places ill adapted to 
 Health — Avocations of the Parmer, Tastes as a Naturalist, Travel, Sport- 
 ing, etc., recommended— Depraved Public Taste— Slavery to Fashion — Habits 
 of Europeans, in this respect, superior to our own — Modern Degeneracy — 
 Folly thralled by Pride, 20* 
 
 ILLUSTRATIVE SKETCHES AND AKECDOTISS. 
 
 To Give Etkrnity to Time.- The Senate-Chamber and the Dying Statesman 
 —The Moral Sublime, 225 
 
 Joxatuan's Sins and a Foreigner's Peccadillo. — Celebrities — Dinner-table 
 Sullies — Grave Charges— Yankee Rejection of Cold Meats — Self-Preserva- 
 tion the First Law of Nature ! — A Mystery Solved — National Impartiality — 
 Anecdote— Storming a Fort— Successful Defence, by a Lady, of herself! — 
 A Stratagem — The Daughter of a Gun— An Explanation — The Tortures of 
 Outraged Modesty, 226 
 
 Dr. Abernethy and his Yankee Patient, 282 
 
 Cosmopolitan Chit-Chat.— A Heterogeneous Party — The Golden Horn — 
 Contemplations in a Turkish Caique — A Discussion — " Christian Dogs" and 
 the Dogs of Constantinople— An unpleasant Discovery— A Magical Touch— 
 The Song of the Caidjis — A National Example, 234 
 
CONTENTS. XVll 
 
 Thb Imvbbtdrbablb Guest.— a Dinner-Table Scene, 
 The Youth and the Philosopher: Lines by Whitehead, 
 
 LETTER YIII. 
 
 LETTER-WRITINa. 
 
 Importance of this Branch of Education — Its Frequent Neglect— Usual Faulta 
 of the Epistolary Style — Applicability of the rule of the Lightning-Tamer— 
 Variety of Styles appropriate to varying Subjects and Occasions — ^Impossi- 
 bility of laying down all-inclusive General Rules — Requisites of Letters of 
 Business— Legibility in Caligraphy — AflFectation in this respect — Avoidance 
 of Servile Imitation — Advantage of possessing a good Business-hand — ^Time- 
 saving Importance of Rapidity — Letters of Introduction — Form Suitable for 
 Ordinary Purposes— Specimen of Letters Introducing a Person in Search of 
 a Business Situation, Place of Residence, etc., etc. — Introduction of Artists, 
 Professional Men, etc. — Presenting a Celebrity by Letter— Proper Attention 
 to Titles, Modes of abbreviating Titles, etc., etc. — Letters of Introduction to 
 be unsealed— Manner of Delivering Letters of Introduction — Cards, Enve- 
 lopes, Written Messages, etc., proper on such Occasions — Appointments and 
 due Courtesy, etc.— Form of Letter to a Lady of Fashion — Etiquette in regard 
 to Addresses— Letters Presenting Foreigners — Personal Introductions — Com- 
 mon Neglect of Etiquette in this respect — Proper Mode of Introducing 
 Young Persons, or those of inferior social position — Of Introducing Men to 
 Women, very Young Ladies, etc. — Voice and Manner on such Occasions — 
 Explanations due to Strangers — Common Social Improprieties — American 
 Peculiarity — Hotel Registers, etc.— Courtesy due to Relations as well as to 
 Strangers — Impropriety of indiscriminate Introductions — Preliminary Cere- 
 monies among Men — ^In the Street — At Dinners — Evening-Parties— Recep- 
 tions — Conventional Rules subject to Changes, dictated by good-sense — 
 Supremacy of the Law of Kindness — Visiting Cards— European Fashion of 
 Cards — Style usual in America — Place of Residence — Phrases for Cards — 
 Business Cards : Ornaments, Devices, Color, Size, Legibility, etc. — Letters of 
 Recommendation — Moral Characteristic— Proper Style of Letters of Condo- 
 lence — Form of Letters of Congratulation — Admissibility of Brevity— Letters 
 to Superiors — Ceremonious Form for such Communications— Proper Mode of 
 Addressing Entire Strangers— Common Error in this respect— Punch's Sar- 
 casm — Diplomats and Public Functionaries should be Models in Letter-writ- 
 ing — An Enigma — Diplomatic Letters — Letters of Friendship and AfiFection — 
 General Requisites of Epistolary Composition — Letters a Means of conferring 
 and Receiving Pleasure — Distinctive Characteristic of the Epistolary Style — 
 Peccadilloes — Aids facilitating the Practice in this Accomplishment — Notes 
 of Invitation, Acceptance, Regret— Observance of Usage— Simplicity the 
 best Um and taste — Etiquette with regard to Invitations to Dinner— Courtesy 
 in Matters of Social Life — Error of an American Author— Ceremony pro- 
 perly preceding taking an uninvited Friend to a Party — Abstract good-breed- 
 ing the best Test of Propriety — Proper form of Ceremonious Notes of InTl« 
 tatlon— Use of the Third Person in writing Notes— Mailed Letters— Local 
 
X^Vlll CONTENTS. 
 
 Addresses, Form of Signature, etc., etc.— Requisites of Letter- Superscription 
 — Writing-Materials— Small Sheets, Margins, etc. — Colored Paper, FanciM 
 Ornaments, Initials, &c. — Envelopes and Superscription — Wax, Seals, etc. — 
 European Letters— Rule— Promptitude in Letter-writing — Study of Published 
 Models beneficial to the Young— Scott, Byron, Moore, Horace Walpole, 
 Washington— Sir W. W. Pepys, etc.— Curiosities of the Epistolary Style — 
 Anticipated Pleasure, 241 
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 Thb Waknino — A Skbtch of Nile-Travbl.— a Group and a Dialogue amid 
 the Ruins of Thebes — Mustapha Aga and the Temple of Karnac — The Arri- 
 val — The Distribution — Delights, Disappointments, and Despair, , . . 268 
 
 Anecdote of the Mighty Wizard of the North, 27» 
 
 A DBA wing-Room Cotbrik op Criticism.— The Library and the Intruder- 
 Paternal Authority — Condemnation — Comments and Criticisms — A Compli- 
 ment — A fair Bevy— Wit and Wisdom— Sport and Seriousness— A Model Note 
 and a Fair Eulogist— Paternal Approbation— What American Merchants 
 should be — An Anecdote — Discoveries and Accessions — Apropos — Fair Play 
 and a Ritse — A Group of Critics — An Invitation— A Rival— An Explanation 
 and an Admission— A Rescue and Retreat — An Old Man's Privilege— Seven- 
 teen and Eighty-two — May and December, 278 
 
 The First Billet-Doux, 284 
 
 LETTER IX. 
 ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 
 Comparative Importance of Accomplishments — DiflFerence between Europeans 
 and Americans in this regard — Self-Education the most Useful — Peculiar 
 Incentives to Self-Culture ijossessed by Americans — Cultivation of a Taste 
 for the Ideal Arts — Desirableness of a Knowledge of Drawing — Incidental 
 Benefit resulting from the Practice of this Art — A Taste for Music — Mistalcea 
 Conceptions of the Importance of this Accomplishment — Advantage of learn- 
 ing Dancing — Desirableness of Riding and Driving — Various Athletic Exer- 
 cises—A ready and graceful Elocution of great Importance— A Source of 
 Social Enjoyment — The Art of Conversation — Use of Slang Phrases— Dis- 
 advantages of Occasional Lenity towards the Corruptions of Language — The 
 only Safe Rule — Common want of Conversational Power — The Superiority 
 of the French over all other People in this Respect— The Salons of Paris — 
 Pleasures of the Ganaillo — French Children — Practice essential to Success— 
 The Embellishments of Conversation — Habits of a Celebrated Talker — • 
 Anecdote of Sheridan — Some Prei)aration not Unsuitable before going into 
 Society — Qualities most essential to secure Popularity in General Society — 
 The " Guilt of giving Pain " — Avoidance of Personalities — The Language 
 of Compliment— Two Good Rules — Reprehensibleness of the Habit of 
 Indulging in Gossip, Scandal, or Puerile Conversation — The Records of 
 " Heaven's High Chancery " — Importance of Exact Truthfulness in Conver» 
 nation — The Capacity of adapting Language to Occasions of ImportiwicA - 
 
CONTENTS. XUK 
 
 Vm of Foreign Phrases or Words— Tact and Good-Breeding the Safest 
 Guides in such Matters — Advantage of the Companionship of Cultivated 
 Persons, in Promoting Conversational Skill — Misuse of Strong Language — 
 Conversational Courtesies— Aphorism by Mr. Madison — Modesty Proper to 
 the Young in this Respect — Bad taste of talking of one's self in Society — The 
 World an Unsuitable Confidant — Quotation from Carlyle — Sympathy with 
 Others— The softer graces of Social Intercourse — Cheerfulness universally 
 Agreeable— A Glee in which Everybody can join— Anecdote — Human Sun- 
 beams-Judicious selection of Conversational Topics— Avoidance of 
 Assumption and Dictatorialness— Proper Regard for the Right of Opinion — 
 Courtesy due to Ladies and Clergymen— Folly of Promulgating Peculiarities 
 of Religious Opinion— Rudeness of manifesting Undue Curiosity respecting 
 the Affairs of Others — Boasting of Friends — Anecdote — Quickness at Re- 
 partee, one of the Colloquial Graces — Dean Swift and his " fellow " — Anec- 
 dote of the Elder Adams— A Ready and Graceful Reply to a Compliment not 
 to be Disregarded among the Elegancies of Conversation — The Retort 
 Courteous — Lady Hamilton and Lord Nelson — Specimens of Polite Phrase- 
 ology — General Conversation with Ladies — Essential Characteristics of 
 Light Conversation — Improprieties and Familiarities — Disagreeable Peculi- 
 arities—A Dismal Character— Anecdote of Cuvier — Tact in Avoiding Per- 
 sonal Allusions— Peculiarity of American Society — Ages of the Loves and 
 Graces — A Young Jonathan and an English Girl — Violation of Confidence 
 — Sacredness of Private Conversations— Politeness of a Ready Compliance 
 with the Wishes of Others in Society 286 
 
 nXUSTSATIVB ANECDOTES AND SK>rrCHES. 
 
 Bang Froid and Sandwiches.— A Ride with a Duke— The eager young Sports- 
 man — A Rencontre— A Query and a Response — A substantial Bonne Bouche. 312 
 
 A Frenchman's Relaxation 314 
 
 Polemics and Politeness— Watering-place Society— Omnibus Orations— Sul- 
 phur-water and Sacrifices — Religionists, Ladies and License, Reaction and 
 
 Remorse. ... * S15 
 
 An unexpected Declaration— Parisian furore — The unknown Patient— Prac- 
 tice and Pathos 817 
 
 The Three Graces — Honor to whom Honor was Due — A Group for a Sculptor 
 
 —Woman's Wit 818 
 
 Scene in a Drawing-room 820 
 
 Musical Mania— Guitar playing and the play of Intellect 321 
 
 A Fair Discussion . , • 828 
 
 National Dialect— A Bagatelle 824 
 
 A Murillo and a Living Study — A Morning in the Louvre with a congenial 
 
 Friend— A Painter's Advice — True Epicureanism. 826 
 
 Ready Elocution and Ready Wit— A Congressional Sketch 82T 
 
SX CONTENTS 
 
 LETTER X. 
 
 HABIT. 
 
 Habit always Indicative of Character— Its Importance not properly esti- 
 mated by the Young— Rudeness and Republicanism too often Synonymous- 
 Fashion not always Good-breeding— Social American Peculiarities— Man- 
 ners of Americans abroad — Rowdyism at the Tuileries — The Propriety of 
 Learning from Older Nations the lighter Elegancies of Life— Madame Soul6 
 and the Queen of Spain— The tie of a Cravat and the Affairs of" Change" — 
 George Peabody a Model American — The distinctive name of Gentleman — 
 Great Importance of Suitable Associates — Spanish Proverb^The true Social 
 Standard — Safeguard against Eccentricity— Habits of Walliing, Standing, 
 Sitting — Directions — Aaron Burr and De Witt Clinton — Bachelor Privileges- 
 Decorum in the presence of Ladies — Carrying the Hat, ease of Attitude, etc. 
 —Benefits of habitual Self-Restraint— Habits at Table— Eating with a Knife 
 •-Soiling the Lips, Piclfing the Teeth, etc., etc. — Nicety in Matters of Detail — 
 Courtesy due to others — Manner to Servants in Attendance at Table — 
 J Avoidance of Sensuousness of Manner — French Mode of Serving Dinners- 
 The Art of Carving— Helping Ladies at Table — Rule in Carving Joints of 
 Meat — Changing the Plate — Proper Mode of Taking Fish — Game — Butter at 
 Dinner — English Custom — Details of Habit at Table — Rights of Freemen — A 
 Just Distinction — Unhealthfulness of drinking too much at Dinner — Fast 
 Eating of Fast Americans — Sitting upon two Legs of a Chair — Anecdote — 
 Habits of using the Handkerchief— Toying with the Moustache, etc., etc. — 
 Ladies careful Observers of Minuti» — Belief of the Ancient Gauls respecting 
 Women — Habits of Swaggering in Public Places — General Suggestions — 
 Ladies and Invalids in Terror of a Human War-Horse— Courtesy due while 
 playing Chess and other Games — Self-control in Sickness — Premature adop- 
 tion of Eye-Glasses — Affectation in this respect — Proper Attitude while 
 Reading or Studying — Habits of Early Rising — A Poetic Superstition unwar- 
 ranted by Health and Trutli— Variance between Healtli and Fashion in 
 regard to Early Hours — Aphorism by Gibbon— Habit of taking Nostrums — 
 Avoidance of Quacks— Habit of acting as the Protectors of the Dependent 
 Sex — Effect of Trifling Habits upon the Opinions formed of us by Women- 
 Habits of handling Prints, Bijouterie, and Boquets, of Smoking, Whispering 
 and Ogling, to be shunned— Importance of Methodical Habits of Reading 
 and Studying— Value of the Gold Dust of Time — Anecdote — True Rule for 
 Reading to Advantage — Habit of Reading aloud — Great Importance of a 
 Habit of Industry — The Superiors of mere Genius — Habits of Cheerfulness 
 and Contentment not to be overlooked by the Young — Cultivation of Habi- 
 tual Self-Respect — Pride and Poverty not Necessarily Antagonistic— Self- 
 Respect a Shield against the Shafts of Calumny— True Honor not affected by 
 Occupation or Position — Benefits of a Habit of Self- Examination — The habi- 
 tual Study of the Scriptures recommended— Christ, the Great Model of Hu- 
 manity — Ungentlemanly Habit of being late at Church, etc. — Pernicious 
 Effects of prevalent Materialism— P«rsc)Dal Ei^joyment resulting from babitu* 
 
CONTENTS. XXI 
 
 ally Idealizing all Mental Associations with Women— Defencelessness an 
 Impassable Barrier to Oppression from true Manliood — Impropriety of 
 Bpealiing loudly to Ladies in public Places, of attracting Attention to them, 
 their Names and Prerogatives — Safe Rule in this regard— The Habit of Sym- 
 pathy with Human Suffering a Christian duty — Mistaken Opinion of Young 
 Men in this respect — The Examples presented by the Lives of the Greatly 
 Good — Mighty Achievements in the Cause of Humanity in the Power of a 
 Few— Habits of Good-Humor, Neatness, Order and Regularity due to others — 
 Fastidious Nicety in Matters of the Toilet, demanded by proper respect for 
 our daily Associates — The Importance of Habits of Exercise, Temperance 
 and Relaxation — Economy to be Cultivated as a Habit — Economy not De- 
 grading — Habit of Punctuality— Slavery to mere System condemned — 
 Remark of Sir Joshua Reynolds— Habit of Perseverance — Value of tho 
 Habit of putting Ideas into Words — Of Habits of Reflection and Observa- 
 tion — Of rendering Respect to Age, etc. — Culture of Esthetical Perceptions — 
 American Peculiarity— Curiosity not tolerated among the well-bred— The 
 inestimable value of Self-Possession— Its Natural Manifestations — Concluding 
 Advice, 829 
 
 ILLUSTllATIONS. 
 
 ONATHAN AND QuEBN "'^icTORi A .— A StroU through the World's Palace— A 
 
 Royal Party — The Yankee Enthroned — A Confession, 3G2 
 
 "lAMON AND Ptthias Modkrnizkd. — A Family Council— A Celebrity and a 
 Hotel Dinner — A Discovery — A Sketch — Telegraphing and Triumph — Beer 
 and a Break-down— Drawing-room Chit-chat— A Young Lady's Eulogy — 
 Retort Courteous — A New Acquaintance — An Explanation — Dinner the 
 Second — Sense and Sensibility — A Ruse — A Request and Appointment — A 
 Contrast — Catastrophy — A Note and a Disappointment — Fair Frankness — 
 An Unexpected Rencontre — The Re-union— Pictures and Pleasantries— The 
 
 Protector of the Helpless, 363 
 
 A Visit to Abbotsford.— Sir Walter Scott as Colonel of Dragoons, Sheriff of 
 the County, Host, Friend, and Author — Mrs. Hemans and Little "Charley" 
 —Courteous Hospitality — At Driburg with Mr. Lockhart— Solution of a 
 
 Mystery — Sir Walter's favorite " Lieutenant," 882 
 
 Confession of a Celebrated Orator, 385 
 
 Thb Lemon and thk Carnation. — A Stage-Coach Adventure — A fair Passen- 
 ger — Churlishness and Cheerfulness— A Comic Duet — Stage-Sickness— An 
 impromptu Physician — Offerings — Acknowledgments — A Docile Patient — 
 Welcome Home — Arrival — A Family Group — A Discovery — Recognition — 
 An Invitation- Hospitality— Sunday Evening at the Rectory— The Honora- 
 ble Occupation of Teaching Young Ladies— A Prophesy— Family Jars— A 
 
 Compliment, 886 
 
 A Notability and his Newfoundland Dog, 400 
 
 ErTRKMBS Mbkt. — European Travelling-Companion — A cool Place and a 
 "cool" Character- A Foreigner's Criticism— Fair Commentators— Dinner- 
 table Sketch— Three Parties in a Rail-Car — Sunshine and Showers— An Earth- 
 
XXll CONTENTS. 
 
 Angel— Anecdote of Thorwalsden, the Danish Sculptor— A Scene— Gentle- 
 manly Inquiries— Paddy's Explanation, ........ 401 
 
 Havb tou been Impatient? — A Broken Engagement— About a Horse— Char- 
 ley's Orphan Cousin— Ideas of Luxury— Novel Experiences — The freed Bird 
 —Bless God for Flowers and Friends !— A Recoil— A Tirade— The Bird Re- 
 caged— Self-Examination— Retrospection and Resolution— A Note and a 
 Boquet— A Blush Transfixed, 41S 
 
 LETTER XI. 
 
 MENTAL AND MORAL EDUCATION. 
 
 The Author's Conscious Incapacity— Education within the Power of All— 
 Americans not Socially Trammelled — The Two Attributes of Mind essential 
 to Self-Culture— Prospective Discernment — The most enlightened System of 
 Education — Duty of Cultivating the Moral as well as the Intellectual Nature 
 — The Acquisition of Wealth not to be regarded as the highest Human 
 Attainment— Definition of Self-Culture — Reading for Amusement only, 
 Unwise — "Aid-s and Appliances" of Judicious Reading— Example of a 
 Great Man— Fictitious Literature — Pernicious Effects often resulting from 
 a Taste for Light Reading— Condemnation of Licentious Novels — Advantages 
 of Noting Choice Passages in Reading— Carlyle's Critieism of Public Men— 
 Tlie Study of History of Great Importance — Benefits resulting from the 
 Perusal of well-selected Biographies — Enumeration of celebrated Works of 
 this Character— Newspaper and Magazine Reading— A Cultivated Taste in 
 Literature and Art the result of thorough Mental Training— AfiFectation and 
 Pretention iu this regard to be avoided — Critical Assumption condemned — 
 Impressions produced upon observing Judges by a Pretentious Manner— 
 "The World's Dread Laugh" — Advantages of Foreign Travel — Misuse of 
 this Advantage— Knowledge of Modern Languages essential to a complete 
 Education — False Impression prevalent on this point — Philosophic Wisdom 
 — Wise Covetousness — Tact the Result of General Self-Culture— An Individual 
 Moral Code of advantage — Example of Washington — Education not com- 
 pleted by a Knowledge of Books — Definition of True Education — The Deve- 
 lopment of the Moral Perceptions promotive of Intellectual Advancement — 
 Undue Exaltation of Talent over Virtue — Religious Faith the legitimate 
 Result of rightly-directed Education— Needful Enlightenment of Conscience 
 —The Life of Jesus Christ the best Moral Guide-Book— Charity to the Faults 
 of others the Result of Self-Knowledge — The Golden Rule of the Great 
 Teacher — The highest Aim of Humanity — Reverence for the Spiritual Nature 
 of Man the Result of Self-Culture — Danger of Self-indulgence in regard to 
 trifling Errors— Caution against the Infidel Philosophy of the Times — The 
 establishment of Fixed Principles of Action— The True Mode of computing 
 
 Life, . 42S 
 
 Apollo turned Author : a Bagatelle, . . * 488 
 
 The Attainment of Knowledge under Difficulties— Necessity the Nurse of True 
 Greatness — The Learned Blacksmith— The Wagoner — The Mill-Boy of the 
 Slashes— Franklin and Webster, . , 480 
 
CONTENTS. xxiii 
 
 A. Peep at Passers-by, from the " Loopholes of Retreat," . . . ,440 
 
 The Force of Genius— A Man about Town— Anecdote— Manly Indignation, . 441 
 
 Old-Fashioned Honor, ^ 4^2 
 
 Webster on Biblical Studies, ] 443 
 
 The Young Frenchman and the Pyramids, 443 
 
 Pbcoadillobs and Ponctiliousnbss.— Extract— Sir Humphrey Davy— Tribute 
 to Religion, ^^ 
 
 LETTER XII. 
 
 CHOICE OF COMPANIONS AND FRIENDS,— SELECTION OP A PURSUIT 
 IN LIFE.— COURTSHIP.— MARRIAGE.— HOUSEKEEPING.— PECUNIARY 
 MATTERS. 
 
 ROLK to be observed in the Selection of Associates— Advantage of the Com- 
 panionship of Persons of more Experience than Ourselves— False Senti- 
 ments entertained by Lord Byron regarding Friendship— Self-Consciousness 
 affords the best Contradiction to these Erroneous Opinions— Value of 
 Friendship- Importance of the Judicious Selection of Confidants- Folly of 
 demanding Perfection in one's Friends— Selection of Employment— The first 
 Consideration in this Relation— Thorough Education should not be confined 
 to Candidates for the Learned Professions— The Merchant Princes of 
 America— Avenues for Effort- AU Honest Occupations dignified by Right 
 Conduct— The Pursuit of Wealth as an End— Freedom the Prerogative of 
 the Worker— A Professional Manner Condemned— Individual Insignificance 
 —Advantages of Early Marriage— Cause of prevalent Domestic Unhappiness 
 —Each Individual the best Judge of his own Conjugal Requisites— Health, 
 Good-Temper, and Education essential in a Wife— Accomplishments not 
 essential to Domestic Happiness— Disadvantages resulting from a previous 
 Fashionable Career— A True Wife— Respect due to the proper Guardians 
 of a Lady by her Suitor— Advantages of a Friendship with a Married Lady 
 —Reserve and Respect of Manner due to Female Friends— Manly Frankness 
 as a Suitor the only Honorable Course— Attachment to one Woman no Ex- 
 cuse for Rudeness to others— The Art of Pleasing— Presents, Complimentary 
 Attentions, etc.— Nicety of Perception usual in Women— Power of the Law 
 of Kindness in Home-Life— The Slightest Approach to Family Dissension to 
 be carefully avoided— The Duty of a Husband to exert a Right Influence 
 over his Wife— Union of Spirit the only Satisfying Bond— More than Roman 
 Sternness assumed by some— Sacredness of all the Better Emotions of the 
 Human Heart— Expressive Synonymes— Pecuniary Matters— The Pernicious 
 EflTects of Boarding— An Old Man's Advice— Household Gods— Propriety of 
 Providing for Future Contingencies— Slavery imposed by Pride and Poverty- 
 Comfort and Refinement compatable with Moderate Resources — Books and 
 Works of Art to be preferred to Fine Furniture— Importance of Cherishing 
 the Esthetical Tastes of Children— " Keeping " a great Desideratum in Social 
 and Domestic Life, 44T 
 
XXIV CONTENTS. 
 
 IIXCSTnATITB SKKTCUBS, BTO. 
 
 Tub Mooted Poiht. — A Morning Visit and Morning Occupations — Macaulay 
 and the Blanket Coat— Curate's Daughters and the Daughters of New- 
 England — A Sybarite — A Disclaimer and a Witticism— Not a Gentleman — 
 " Trifles make the sum of Human Things" — The Slough of Despond— A Gift 
 —Reading Poetry— A Soldier's Tactics— The "Unpardonable Sin"— A Fair 
 
 Champion and a Noble Sentiment, 463 
 
 Anecdotes of a British Minister, an Ex-Governor, and an American Statesman, 470 
 
 Chief-Justice Marshall and the Toung Man of Fashion, 472 
 
 Habits of Early Friends, 478 
 
 Thb Prophbot FuLFiLLKD.— a Denouement — Cupid turned Carrier— Wedding- 
 Cards and Welcome News— A True Woman's Letter, 47ft 
 
 Uncle Hal's Farewell, 480 
 
THE 
 
 AMERICAN GENTLEMAN'S GUIDE. 
 
 LETTEK I. 
 
 DKESS 
 
 My dear yoijng Fkiends : — 
 
 As you are already, to some extent, 
 acquainted with tlie design and scope of the Let- 
 ters I propose to address to you, there is no neces- 
 sity for an elaborate prelude at the commencement 
 of the series. 
 
 We will, with your permission, devote our attention 
 first to Dress — to the external man — and advance, in 
 accordance with the true rules of Art, gradually, 
 towards more important subjects. 
 
 Whatever may be the abstract opinions indivi- 
 dually entertained respecting the taste and regard for 
 comfort evinced in the costume now, with trifling 
 variations, almost universally adopted by men in all 
 
 2 
 
26 
 
 civilized lands, few will dispute the practical utility 
 of conforming to the general requisitions of Fashion. 
 
 Happily for the gratification of fancy, however, the 
 all-potent goddess, arbitrary and imperative as are her 
 laws, permits, at least to some extent, such variations 
 from her general standard as personal convenience, 
 physical peculiarities, or varying circumstances may 
 require. 
 
 But a due regard for these and similar considera- 
 tions by no means involves the exhibition of eccetv- 
 ti'icitT/, which I hold to be inconsistent with good 
 taste, whether displayed in dress or manner. 
 
 A violation of the established rules of Convention 
 cannot easily be defended, except when required by 
 our obligations to the more strenuous requirements 
 of duty. Usually, however, departures from conven- 
 tional propriety evince simply an ill-regulated char- 
 acter. CThe Laws of Convention, like all wise laws, 
 are instituted to promote " the greatest good of the 
 greatest number.') They constitute a Code of Polite- 
 ness and Propriety J adapted to the promotion of 
 social convenience, varying somewhat with local cir- 
 cumstances, it may be, but everywhere substantially 
 the same. It is common to talk of the eccentricities 
 of genius, as though they are essential concomitants 
 of genius itself. I^othing can be more unfounded 
 and pernicious than this impression. The eccentrici- 
 ties that sometimes characterize tlie intellectually 
 gifted, are but so many humiliating proofs of the 
 imperfection of human nature, even wlien exhibiting 
 its highest attributes. Hence the afiectation of such 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION 27 
 
 peculiarities simply subjects one to ridicule, and, in 
 many instances, to the contempt of sensible people. 
 
 Some years since, when Byron was the " bright, 
 particular star " worshipped by young Sophs, it was 
 quite a habit among our juvenile collegians to drink 
 gin, wear their collars a la mode de Byron^ cultivate 
 misanthropy upon system, and manifest the most 
 concentrated horror of seeing women eat ! In too 
 many instances, the sublimity of genius was mea- 
 gerly illustrated by these aspirants for notoriety. 
 In place of catching an inspiration, they only caught 
 cold; their gloomy indifference to the hopes, the 
 enjoyments, and pursuits of ordinary life, distressed 
 no one, save, perhaps, their ci-devant nurses, or the 
 " most tender of mothers ;" their " killing " peculia- 
 rities of costume were scarcely daguerreotyped even 
 upon the impressible hearts of the school-girls whose 
 smiling observance they might chance passingly to 
 arrest ; women of sense and education pertinaciously 
 adhered to a liking for roast beef, with variations, 
 and manifested an equally decided partiality for the 
 society and attention of men who were not indebted 
 for the activity of their intellects to the agency of 
 the juniper berry ! Falling into such absurdities as 
 these, a man cannot hope to escape the obnoxious 
 imputation of being i^ery young ! 
 
 But while care is taken to avoid the display of 
 undue attention to the adornment of the outer man, 
 everything approaching to indifference or neglect, in 
 that regard, shmild be considered equally reprehen- 
 sible. jN'o one entertains a more profound respecA 
 
98 THE AMERICAN GENTLEMAN 8 GUIDE 
 
 for the prodigious learning of Dr. Johnson, from 
 knowing that he often refused to dine out rather than 
 change his linen ; nor are we more impressed by the 
 gallant tribute to kindred genius that induced his 
 attending Mrs. Siddons to her carriage, when she 
 visited him in the third-floor rooms he continued to 
 occupy even in his old age, because his trunk-hose 
 were dangling about his heels, as he descended the 
 stairs with his fair guest. One does not envy Por- 
 6on, the greatest of modern Greek scholars, his habi- 
 tually dirty and shabby dress, because it is forever 
 associated with his learned celebrity ! !N"either is 
 Greeley a better, or more influential editor, that he 
 is believed to be invisible to mortal eyes except 
 when encased in a long drab-colored overcoat. He, 
 however, seems to have adopted an axiom laid down 
 in a now ahnost-forgotten novel much admired in my 
 youth — " Thaddeus of Warsaw," I think — " Acquire 
 the character of an oddity, and you seat yourself in 
 an easy-chair for life." The supposition of mono- 
 mania most charitably explains the indulgence in 
 habits so disgusting as those well-known to have cha- 
 racterized the distinguished savant , who died 
 
 recently at Paris. Had he slept in a clean bed, and 
 observed the decencies of life, generally, the race 
 would have been equally benefited by his additions 
 to scientific lore, and his country the more honored 
 that he left a name in no degree in had odor with 
 the world ! 
 
 But to return: — !N*o better uninspired model foi 
 young Americans exists than that aflforded, in the 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 20 
 
 most minute details, of the life and character of 
 Washington ; and even upon a point comparatively 
 so insignificant as that we are at present discussing, 
 he has left us his recorded opinion : " Always," he 
 writes to his nephew, " have your clothes made of 
 the best materials, by the most accomplished persons 
 in their business, whose services you can command, 
 and in the prevailing fashion." 
 
 With such illustrious authority for the advice, then, 
 I unhesitatingly counsel you to dress in the fashion. 
 
 To descend to particulars designed to include all 
 the minutiae of a gentleman's wardrobe, were as futile 
 as useless ; but a few hints upon this point, may, 
 nevertheless, not be wholly out of place in epistles 
 so frank, practical and familiar as these are intended 
 to be. 
 
 The universal partiality of our countrymen for 
 hlack^ as the color of dress clothes, at least, is fre- 
 quently remarked upon by foreigners. Among the 
 best dressed men on the continent, as well as in Eng- 
 land, black, though not confined to the clergy, is in 
 much less general use than here. They adopt the 
 darker shades of blue, brown and green, and for un- 
 dress almost as great diversity of colors as of fabrics. 
 An English gentleman, for instance, is never seen in 
 the morning (which means abroad all that portion of 
 the twenty-four hours devoted to business, out-door 
 amusements and pursuits, &c. ; — it is always 7/i.orning 
 until the late dinner hour has passed) in the half-worn 
 coat of fine black cloth, that so inevitably gives a 
 man a sort of shabby-genteel look; but in some 
 
30 
 
 strong-looking, rough, knock-about "fixin," fre- 
 quently of nondescript form and fashion, but admir- 
 ably adapted both in shape and material for use — for 
 work. Of this, by the way, every man, worthy of 
 the name, has a daily portion to perform, in some 
 shape or other — from the Duke of Devonshire, with a 
 fortune that would purchase half-a-dozen consort-king- 
 growing German principalities, and leave a princely 
 inheritance for his successors, to the youngest son of 
 a youngest son, who, though proud of the " gentle 
 blood" in his veins, earns, as an em/ploye in the service 
 of the government, — in some one of its ten thousand 
 forms of patronage and power — the limited salary 
 that barely suffices, when eked out by the most in- 
 genious economy, to supply the hereditary necessities 
 of a gentleman. But this is a digression. As I was 
 saying in the morning, during work -hours, whatever 
 be a man's employment, and wherever, his outside 
 garb should be suited to ease and convenience, its 
 only distinctive marks being the most scrupulous 
 cleanliness, and the invariable accompaniment of 
 fresh linen. 
 
 Coming to the discussion of matters appertaining 
 to a toilette elaborate enough for occasions of cere- 
 mony, I think of no better general rule than that 
 laid down by Dr. Johnson (in his character of a 
 shrewd observer of men and manners, rather than 
 as himself affording an illustration of the axiom, 
 perhaps) — " the hest dressed 'persons are those in whose 
 attire nothing in jparticvl^xr attracts attention^'' 
 
 There is an indescribable air of refinement, 2k je ne 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 31 
 
 mis quo% as the Frencli have it, at an equal remove 
 from the over-washed look of your thorough Eng- 
 lishman (their close-cropped hair always reminds me 
 of the incipient stage of preparation for assuming a 
 strait-jacket!) and the walking tailor's advertisement 
 tliaj: perambulates Fifth Avenue, Chestnut-street, the 
 Boston Mall, and other fashionable promenades in 
 our cis-Atlantic cities, in attendance upon the loco- 
 motive milliner's show-cases, yclept "belles" — God 
 save the mark ! 
 
 The essentials of a gentleman's dress, for occasions 
 of ceremony are — a stylish, well-fitting cloth coat, of 
 some dark color, and of unexceptionable quality ; 
 nether garments to correspond, or in warm weather, 
 or under other suitable circumstances, white pants of 
 a fashionable material and make; the finest and 
 purest linen, embroidered in white, if at all ; a cra- 
 vat and vest, of some dark or neutral tint, according 
 to the physiognomical peculiarities of the wearer, 
 and the 'prevailing mode; a fresh-looking, fashiona- 
 ble black hat and carefully-fitted, modish boots, light- 
 colored gloves, and a soft, thin, white handkerchief. 
 
 Perhaps, the most arbitrary of earthly divinities per- 
 mits her subjects more license in regard to the arrange- 
 ment of the hair and beard, than with respect to any 
 other matter of the outer man. A real artist, and such 
 every man should be, who meddles with the " human 
 face divine" or its adjuncts, will discern at a glance 
 the capabilities of each head submitted to his mani* 
 pulation. Defects will thus be lessened, or wholl/ 
 concealed, and good points brought out. 
 
32 THE AMERICAN GENTLKMAN*S GUIDE 
 
 If you wear your beard, wear it in moderation- 
 extremes are always vulgar ! Avoid all fantastic 
 arrangements of the hair — turning it under in a huge 
 roll, smooth as the cylinder of a steam-engine, and as 
 little suggestive of good taste and comfort as would 
 be the coil of a boa constrictor similarly located, 
 parting it in Miss iJ^ancy style, and twisting it into 
 love [soap ?] locks with a curling-tongs, or allowing 
 it to straggle in long and often, seemingly, " un- 
 combed and unkempt " masses over the coat-collar. 
 This last outrage of good-taste is so gross a violation 
 of what is technically called " keeping," as to excite 
 in me extreme disgust. Ill, indeed, does it accord 
 with the trim, compact, easily-portable costume of 
 our day, and a miserable imitation, it is of the flow- 
 ing hair that, in days of yore, fell naturally and 
 gracefully upon the broad lace collar turned down 
 over the velvet or satin short-cloak of the cavaliers 
 and appropriately adorning shoulders upon which, 
 with equal fitness, drooped a long, waving plume, 
 from the wide-brimmed, steeple-crowned, pictur- 
 esque hat that completed the costume. 
 
 While on this subject of collars, etc., let us stop to 
 discuss for a moment the nice matter of their size and 
 shape. Just now, like the " life " of a " poor old man," 
 they have "dwindled to the shortest span," under 
 the pruning shears of the operatives of the mode. 
 Whether this is the result of a necessity growing 
 with the lengthening beards that threaten wholly to 
 ignore their existence, you must determine for your- 
 selves, but I must enter my protest against th^ total 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASKION. 83 
 
 extinction of this relieving line of white, ?o long, at 
 least, as the broad wristband, now so appropriately 
 accompanying the wide coat-sleeve, shall remain in 
 vogue. 
 
 The mention of this last tasteful appendage natu- 
 rally brings to mind the highly ornate style of sleeve- 
 buttons now so generally adopted. Eschew, I pray 
 you, all flash stones for these or any other personal 
 ornament. Nothing is more unexceptionable for 
 sleeve-buttons and the fastenings of the front of a 
 shirt, than fine gold^ fashioned in some simple form, 
 sufficiently massive to indicate use and durability, and 
 skillfully and handsomely wrought, if ornamented 
 at all. Few young men can consistently wear 
 diamonds, and they are, if not positively exception- 
 able, in no degree requisite to the completion of the 
 most elaborate toilette. But those who do sport them, 
 should confine themselves to genuine stones of 
 unmistakable water, and never let their number 
 induce in the minds of beholders the recollection 
 that a travelling Jew — whether from hereditary dis- 
 trust of the stability of circumstances, or from some 
 other consideration of personal convenience, usually 
 carries his entire fortune about his person ! Better 
 the simplest fastenings of mother-of-pearl than such 
 staring vulgarity of display. And so of a watch 
 and its appendages. A gentleman carries a watch 
 for convenience, and secures it safely upon his per- 
 son, wearing with it no useless ornament, paraded to 
 the eye. It is, like his pencil and purse, good of ita 
 
 2* 
 
34 
 
 kind, and if he can afford it, handsome, but it is 
 never flashy ! 
 
 The fashion of sporting signet-rings is not so gene- 
 ral, perhaps, as it was a little while since, but it still 
 retains a place among the minutiae of our present 
 theme. Here, again, the same general rules of good 
 taste apply as to other ornaments. When worn at 
 all, everything of this sort should be most unexcep- 
 tionably and unmistakably tasteful and genuine. 
 Any deviation from good ton^ in this regard, will as 
 inevitably give a man the air of a loafer as an ill-fit- 
 ting boot will, or the slightest declension from the 
 perpendicular in his hat ! 
 
 In connection with my earnest advice in regard to 
 all flash ornaments, to whatever purpose applied, I 
 must not omit to record my protest against staring 
 patterns in pants, cravats, vests, etc. Carefully 
 avoid all the large, many-colored plaids and stripes, 
 of which (as Punch has demonstrated) it takes more 
 than one ordinary-sized man to show the pattern ; 
 and all glaring colors as well. I have no partiality, 
 as I believe I have intimated, for the eternal dead 
 black which, abroad at least, belongs, by usage, pri- 
 marily to the clergy ; but this is a better extreme 
 than that which has for its original type the sign- 
 board getting-up of a horse-jockey. 
 
 A fashion has of late years obtained extensively, 
 which has always, within my remembrance, had its 
 admirers — that of a white suit throughout^ for very 
 warm weather. This has the great merit of comtort, 
 and some occupations permit its adoption without 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 35 
 
 iuconvenience. But even the use of thin summer 
 cravats (which should always be of some imconspi- 
 cuous color) wonderfully mitigates the sufferings 
 incident to the dog-days, and these are admissible 
 for dress occasions, when corresponding with the 
 general effect of the vest and nether investments. 
 
 To recur once more to the important item of body 
 linen ; — never wear a colored"^ shirt — have no such 
 article in your wardrobe. Figures and stripes do 
 not conceal impurity, nor should this be a desidera- 
 tum with any decent man. The now almost obsolete 
 German author, Kotzebue — ;W^hose plays were very 
 much admired when I was young, and whom your 
 modern students of German should read in the origi- 
 nal — I remember, makes one of his female charac- 
 ters, a sensible, observing woman, say that she 
 detected a gentleman in the disguise of a menial by 
 observing \S.\Qi fineness of his linen! If your occu- 
 pation be such as to require strong, rough-and-tum- 
 ble garments, wear them, unhesitatingly, when you 
 are at work, but have them good of their kind, and 
 keep them clean. While your dress handkerchief 
 should not look, either for size or quality, as if you 
 had, for the nonce, perverted the proper use of bed- 
 linen — in the woods, for pioneer travelling, rough 
 riding, etc., a bandanna is more sensible, as is a cut- 
 away coat, or something of that sort, wdth ample 
 pockets, loose, strong, and warm, and a " soft " 
 broad-brimmed, durable hat, or cap, as the case may 
 be — ^not an. old, fine black cloth dress-coat, sur 
 
 * It will be understood, of course, that the necessities and the regula- 
 tions of military life are here excepted. 
 
36 
 
 mounted bv a narrow-rimmed " sesrment of a stove- 
 pipe," with a satin cravat, thongli it be half-worn ! 
 In short, my dear boys, study fitness and propriety 
 in all things. This is the legitimate result of a ^vel\ 
 regulated mind, tlie characteristic of a true Gentle- 
 man — which every American should aim to be — not 
 a thing made up of dress, perfumery, and " boos," 
 as Sir Archy McSycophant styled them ; but a right- 
 minded, self-respecting man, with Excelsior for his 
 motto, and our broad, free, glorious land " all before 
 him, where to choose " the theatre of a useful, hono- 
 rable life. Matters like those I have dwelt on in 
 this letter, are trifles, comparatively ; but trifles, in 
 the aggregate, make life, and, thus viewed, are not 
 unworthy the subordiriate attention of a man of sense. 
 Tliey are collateral, 1 admit, but they go to make up 
 the perfect whole — to assist in the attainment of the 
 true standard which every young man should keep 
 steadily in view. And, insignificant as the eflfect of 
 attention to such matters may appear to you, depend 
 upon it, that habits of propriety and refinement in 
 regard to such personal details, have more than a 
 negative influence upon character in general. The 
 man who preserves inviolable his self-respect, in 
 regard to all personal habits and surroundings, is, 
 ceteris jparibics, far less likely to acquire a relish for 
 low company and profligate indulgences, and to cul- 
 tivate correspondent mental and moral attributes. 
 It occurs to me that, going into detail, as I have, 
 your attention should, in the proper connection, 
 have been called to a little matter of dress etiquette, 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 3T 
 
 of which you moderns are strangely neglectful, as it 
 appears to an old stickler for proj^riety like me. To 
 have offered an imgloved hand to a lady, in the 
 dance, would, in days when I courted the graces, 
 have been esteemed a peccadillo, and over-punctilious 
 as you may think me, it seems very unhandsome to 
 me. A dress costume is no more complete without 
 gloves than without boots, and to touch the pure 
 glove of a lady with uncovered fingers is — imperti- 
 nent ! 
 
 Here, again, let me condemn all fancy display. 
 A fresh white, or, wdiat amounts at night to the same 
 thing, pale yellow glove, is the only admissible thing 
 for balls, other large evening parties, ceremonious 
 dinners, and wedding receptions ; but for making 
 ordinary morning visits, or for the street, some dark, 
 unnoticeable color is in quite as good taste and ton. 
 Bright-colored gloves bring the hands into too much 
 conspicuousness for good effect, and, to my mind, give 
 the whole man a plebeian air. I remember once 
 being, for a long time, unable to divine what a finely- 
 dressed young fellow, in whom I thought I recog- 
 nised the son of an old college chum, could be carry- 
 ing in each hand-, as he w^alked towards me across 
 the Albany Park; of similar size and color, he 
 seemed, John Gilpin like, to have 
 
 " hung a bottle on each side 
 
 To keep the balance sure !" 
 
 "When I could, in sailor phrase, " make him out," 
 behold a pair of great fat hands, incased in tight* 
 
38 
 
 fitting gloves, closely resembling in hue the bright* 
 est orange-colored wrapping-paper ! 
 
 You will expect me not entirely to overlook the 
 important topic of over-garments. 
 
 As in all similar matters, it is the best taste not 
 to deviate so much from the prevailing modes as to 
 make one's self remarkable. Fortunately, however, 
 for the infinite diversity presented by the human 
 form, a sufiicient variety in this respect is offered 
 by fashion to gratify the greatest fastidiousness. 
 And no point of dress, perhaps, more imperatively 
 demands discrimination, with regard to its selection. 
 Thus, a tall, slender figure, with narrow shoulders 
 and ill-developed arms, is displayed to little advan- 
 tage in the close-fitting, long-skirted overcoat that 
 would give desirable compactness to the rotund 
 person of our short, portly friend, Alderman D., 
 while the defects of the same form would be almost 
 wholly concealed by one of the graceful and conve- 
 nient Talmas that so successfully combine beauty 
 and comfort, and affbrd, to an artistically-cultivated 
 eye, the nearest approach to an abstract standard of 
 taste, presented by masculine attire, since the flow- 
 ing short cloak of the so-called Spanish costume was 
 in vogue. 
 
 Here, again, one is reminded of the propriety of 
 regarding fitness in the selection of garments espe- 
 cially designed to promote comfort. Nothing can 
 well be more ungainly than the appearance of a 
 man in one of the large woollen shawls that have of 
 late obtained such general favor, at least as they are 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 39 
 
 frequently worn, slouching loosely from the shoul- 
 ders, and almost necessarily accompanied by a stoop, 
 the more readily to retain them in place. They are 
 well adapted to night travel, to exposed riding and 
 driving (when properly secured about the chest), 
 and are useful as wrappers w^hen a man is dressed 
 for the opera or a ball. But that any sensible person 
 should encumber himself with such an appendage 
 in walking — for daily street wear — is matter for sui*- 
 prise. They have by no means the merit for this ■ 
 purpose of the South American jponclio^ which is 
 simply a large square shawl of thick woollen cloth, 
 with an opening in the centre for passing it over the 
 head, thus securing it in place, and giving the 
 wearer the free use of his arms and hands, a desider- 
 atum quite overlooked in the usual arrangement, or 
 rather 7i<m-arrangement of these dangling " M'cGre- 
 gors." But the way, I well remember, that one of 
 
 the young T s of Albany, not very many years 
 
 ago, w^as literally mobbed in the streets of that 
 ancient asylum of Dutch predilections, upon his 
 appearance there in a poncho brought with him on 
 his return from Brazil ! So much for the mutations 
 of fashion and opinion ! 
 
 To sum up all, let me slightly paraphrase the 
 laconic and invariable advice of the immortal ]N"el- 
 son to the young middies under his command. 
 *' Always obey your superior officer," said the Eng- 
 lish hero, ** and hate a Frenchman as you would 
 the devil !" JSTow then, for my " new reading :" — In 
 DRESS, always obey the dictates of Fashion, regulated 
 
40 
 
 hy good sense, and hate shabby gentility as you woulc, 
 the devil ! 
 
 Well, you young dogs, here ends the substance of 
 my first old-fashioned letter of advice to you. I 
 will confess that upon being convinced, as I was at 
 the very outset, how much easier it is to think and 
 talk than to write, I was more than half inclined to 
 recall my promise to you all. The pen of your 
 veteran uncle, my boys, has little of " fuss and 
 feathers," though it may be "rough and ready." 
 The "Mill-Boy of the Slashes" used often to say, 
 when we were both young men, and constantly asso- 
 ciated in business matters as well as in friendship, 
 " Let Lunettes do that, he holds the readier pen ;" 
 but times are changed since then, and you must not 
 expect fine rhetorical flourishes, or the elegances of 
 modern phraseology in these straight-forward effu- 
 sions. I learned my English when "Johnson's 
 Dictionary " was the only standard of our language, 
 and the " Spectator " regarded as afi'ording an unex- 
 ceptionable model of style. With this proviso, I 
 dare say, we shall get on bravely, now that we are 
 once fairly afloat ; and, perhaps, some day we'll get 
 an enterprising publisher in our Quaker City to 
 shape these effusions into a '''• frenthooW iov private 
 circulation — a capital idea ! at least for redeeming 
 my crabbed hieroglyphics from being " damned with 
 faint praise " by my " numerous readers," a thought 
 by no means palatable to the sensitive mind of your 
 old relative. 
 
 I believe it was " nominated in the bond," that 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 41 
 
 the subjects treated of in each of mj promised let- 
 ters shall be illustrated by stories, or anecdotes, 
 drawn from what you were pleased to style " the 
 ample stores furnished by a life of large observation 
 and varied experience." It occurs to me, however, 
 that as this, my first awkward essay to gratify your 
 united wishes, has already grown to an inconceiv- 
 able length, it were well to reserve for another 
 occasion the fulfillment of the latter clause of your 
 request, as more ample space and a less lagging pen 
 may then second the efforts of 
 
 Your affectionate 
 
 Uncle Hal» 
 
 P. S. — In my next, I will include some prac- 
 tical directions respecting the details of costume 
 suitable for various cereinonious occasions — the 
 opera, dinners, weddings, etc., etc. 
 
 *' Whew !" methinks I hear you all exclaim, 
 " our old uncle setting himself up as 
 
 " ' The glass of fashion and the mould of form !* 
 
 He may indeed be able to 
 
 " ' hold the mirror up to Nature ;* 
 
 but to attempt to reflect the changeful hues of mere 
 
 fashion " 
 
 ^ot too fast, my young friends ! Do not suppose 
 me capable of such folly. But, for the benefit of 
 such of you as are so far removed from the centre 
 
42 THE AMERICAN GENTLEMAn's GUIDE 
 
 of ton as to require such assistance, I have invoked 
 the aid of a good-humored friend, thoroughly aufaii 
 in such matters, the " observed of all observers " in 
 our x^^merican Belgravia, a luminary in whose rays 
 men do gladly sun themselves. 
 
 H.L. 
 
TO POLITENESS AKD FASHION. 48 
 
 LETTER n. 
 
 sketches and anecdotes. 
 
 My dear Nephews: 
 
 In accordance with the promise with 
 which I concluded my last letter, I will give you, in 
 this, narrated in my homely way, some anecdotes, 
 illustrative of the opinions I have expressed upon the 
 
 subject of DRESS. 
 
 Liking, sometimes, to amuse myself by a study 
 of the masses, in holyday attire and holyday humor, 
 — to see the bone and sinew of our great coun- 
 try, the people who make our laws, and for whose 
 good they are administered by their servants, enjoy- 
 ing a jubilee, and wishing also to meet some old 
 friends who were to be there (among others. Gen. 
 Wool, who, though politicians accused him of going 
 to lay pipe for the presidency, is a right good fellow, 
 and the very soul of old-fashioned hospitality), I went 
 on one occasion to a little city in western New York, 
 to attend a State Fair. 
 
 On the night of the fete that concluded the affair, 
 your cousins, Grace and Gertd, to whom you all say 
 
44 
 
 I can refuse nothing, however unreasonable, insisted 
 that I should be their escort, and protested warmly 
 against my remonstrances upon the absurdity of an 
 old fellow like me being kept up until after midnight 
 to watch, like a griffin guarding his treasures, while 
 two silly girls danced with some " whiskered Pan- 
 door," or some " fierce huzzar," who would be as 
 much puzzled to tell where he won his epaulettes as 
 
 was our (militia) Gen. , of whom, when he was 
 
 presented to that sovereign, on the occasion of a 
 court levee, Louis Philippe asked, " where he had 
 served !" 
 
 It would not become me to repeat half the flatter- 
 ing things by which their elegant chaperon^ Mi-s. B. 
 seconded the coaxing declarations of your cousins, 
 that they would be " enough more proud to go with 
 Uncle Hal than with all the half-dozen beaux toge- 
 ther," whose services had been formally tendered and 
 accepted for the occasion. 
 
 " Yes, indeed," cried Gerte, " for Uncle Hal is a 
 real soldier !" And I believe the wheedling rogue 
 actually pressed her velvety lips to the ugly sabre 
 scar that helps to mar my time-worn visage. 
 
 " Col. Lunettes is too gallant not to lay down his 
 arms when ladies are his assailants !" said Mrs. B. 
 with one of her conquering smiles. "Well, ladies," 
 said I, " I cry you mercy — 
 
 " * Was ever colonel by such sirens wooed, 
 Was ever colonel by such sirens won !' " 
 
 I have no intention to inflict upon you a long de- 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 45 
 
 Bcription of the festivities of the evening. Suffice 
 it to saj upon that point, that the " beauty and 
 fashion," as the newspapers phrase it, not only of 
 the Empire State, but of the Old Dominion, and 
 others of the fair sisterhood of our Union, were bril- 
 liantly represented. 
 
 "When our little party entered the dancing-room, 
 which we did at rather a late hour, for we had been 
 listening to some good speaking in another apartment 
 — the ladies declared that they preferred to do so, as 
 they could dance at any time, but rarely had an op- 
 portunity of hearing distinguished men speak in 
 public, — ^the "observed of all observers," among 
 the fairer part of the assembly, and the envy, of 
 course, of all the male candidates for admiration, 
 
 was young " General ," one of the aids-de-camp 
 
 of the Governor of the State. In attendance upon his 
 superior officer, who was present with the rest of his 
 staff, our juvenile Mars was in full military dress, 
 and made up, as the ladies say, in the most elaborate 
 and accepted style of love-locks (I have no idea what 
 their modern name may be), whiskers and moustaches. 
 Ihe glow that mantled the cheeks of the triumphant 
 Eoanerges could not have been deeper dyed had s 
 ^' modesty ^^'' like that of "Washington, when over- 
 powered by the first public tribute rendered to him 
 by Congress, " been equalled only by his bravery !" 
 
 " He above the rest in shape and gesture, 
 Proudly eminent." 
 
 but apparently, wholly unconscious of the attention 
 
4:6 THE AMERICAN GENTLEMAN S GUIDE 
 
 of whicli he was the subject, was smilingly engrossed 
 by his devotion to the changes of the dance, and to 
 his fair partner ; and the last object that attracted my 
 eye, as we retired from the field of his glory, were 
 the well-padded military coat, the curling moustaches 
 and sparkling eyes of " Adjutant-Gen. ! " 
 
 True to my old-fashioned notions of propriety, I 
 went the next morning to pay my respects to Mrs. 
 B., and to look after your cousins, — especially that 
 witch Gerte, whom her father had requested me to 
 " keep an eye upon," when placing her under my care 
 for the journey to the Fair. 
 
 I found the whole fair bevy assembled in the 
 drawing-room, and in high spirits. 
 
 After the usual inquiries put and answered, 
 Grace cried out, " Oh ! Uncle Hal, I must tell you I 
 Gen. has been here this morning ! He was wear- 
 ing such a beautiful coat ! — his dress last night was 
 nothing to it ! — it fairly took all our hearts by storm !" 
 
 At these words, a merry twinkle, as bright and 
 harmless as sheet lightning, darted round the circle. 
 
 The master of the house entered at that moment, 
 and before the conversation he had interrupted was 
 fairly renewed, invited me into the adjoining dining- 
 room to " take a mouthful of lunch." 
 
 "While my host and I sat at a side-table, sipping 
 a little excellent old Cognac, with just a dash of ice- 
 water in it (a bad practice, a very bad practice, by 
 the by, my boys, which I would strenuously counsel 
 you not to fall into ; but an inveterate habit acquired 
 by an old soldier when no one thought of it being 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 47 
 
 rery wrong) the lively cliit-chat in the drawing-room 
 occasionally reached my ears. 
 
 " It was tissue, I am quite sure I" said Miss . 
 
 " No matter about the material — the color would 
 have redeemed anything !" cried Grace. 
 
 " Sea-green !" chimed in the flute notes of another 
 of the gay junto, " what can equal the General's 
 verdancy f^^ 
 
 " What ?" (here I recognized the animated voice 
 of the lady of the mansion) ; " why, only his maiir 
 vais ton^ in ' congratulating ' me upon having ' so 
 
 many ' at my reception for Governor and Mrs. , 
 
 the other evening, and his equally flattering assur- 
 ance that he had not seen so ' brilliant a military 
 turn-out in a long time ' — meaning, of course, his 
 elegant self! You are mistaken, however, Laura, 
 about his coat being of tissue^ it was lawn^ and had 
 just come home from his lawn-dress^ when he put it 
 on. I distinctly saw the mark of the smoothing-iron 
 on the cufl", as well as that his wristband was soiled 
 considerably." 
 
 " He had only had time to ' change' his coat since 
 he went 'home with the girls in the morning,'" 
 chimed in some one, " and his hair, I noticed as he 
 rose to make what he called his 'farewell how of 
 exit^ was filled with the dust of that dirty ball-room." 
 
 "Which couldn't be brushed out without taking 
 out the curl, too, I suppose !" This last sally emi- 
 nated, I believe, from one of the most amiable, usu- 
 ally, of the group. 
 
 " Well," said the hostess, with a half-sigh of relief, 
 
4:8 THE AMERICAN gentleman's GUmB 
 
 * he seldom inflicts himself upon me ! His grand 
 entree this morning, in the character of a katy-did, 
 gotten up a la mode naturelle^'^ (here there was a 
 general clapping of hands, accompanied by hravos 
 that would have rejoiced the heart of a prima 
 donna), " was, no doubt, occasioned by his having 
 heard some one say that, what vulgar people style a 
 ^ jparty call^ was incumbent upon him after my recep- 
 tion. What a pity his informant had not also 
 enlightened him on another point of ettiqueWy^ as old 
 Mr. Smith calls it, and so spared me the mortifica- 
 tion, my dears, of presenting to you, as a specimen 
 
 of the beaux of , and one of the aids-de-camp of 
 
 Governor , a man making a visit of ceremony in 
 
 a hright, pea-green^ thin muslin shooting-jacket /" 
 
 Bulwer, the novelist, when I was last in London, 
 some two or three years ago — and for aught I know 
 he still continues the practice — used to appear in 
 his seat in the English House of Commons one day 
 in light-colored hair, eye-brows and whiskers, with 
 an entire suit to correspond ; and the next, per- 
 haps, in black hair, etc., accompanied by a black coat, 
 neckcloth, and so on throughout the catalogue. A 
 proof of the sidmitted eccentricities o/geniics, I suppose. 
 
 D , who is now a very respectable veteran 
 
 lawyer, and well known in the courts of the Empire 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 49 
 
 State, was originally a Green Mountain Boy — tall, a 
 trifle ungainly, with a laugh that might have shaken 
 his native hills, rather unmanageable hair, each indi- 
 vidual member of the fraternity, instead of regard- 
 ing the true democratic principle, often choosing to 
 keep " Independence " on its own account, and a 
 walk that required the whole breadth of an ordinary 
 side-walk to bring out all its claims to admiration. 
 
 Though D did not sacrifice to the graces, he 
 
 really wrote very clever " Lines ;" but his shrewd 
 native sense taught him that a reputation as a maga- 
 zine poet would not have a direct tendency to 
 increase the number of his clients. So the some- 
 time devotee of the Muse of Poetry, bravely eschew- 
 ing the open use of a talent that, together with his 
 ever-ready good-humor and quiet Yankee drollery, 
 had brought him somewhat into favor in society, 
 despite his natural disadvantages, entered into part- 
 nership with an old practitioner in A , and bent 
 
 himself to his career with sturdy energy of purpose. 
 
 " New Year " coming round again in the good old 
 
 Dutch city where D had pitched his tent, some 
 
 of his friends offered to take him with them in their 
 round of calls, and introduce him to such of their fair 
 friends as it was desirable to know ; hinting, at the 
 same time, that this would afford a suitable occasion 
 for donning a suit of new and fashionable garments. 
 
 On the first of January, therefore, agreeable to 
 appointment, his broad, pock-marked face — lumi- 
 nous as a colored lantern outside an oyster-saloon — ■ 
 
 and his gait more than usually diffvsive^ D was 
 
 3 
 
60 
 
 seen coming along from his lodgings, to meet his 
 companions for the day's expedition, and evidently 
 with sails full set. It soon became apparent to all 
 beholders, not only that the grub had been trans- 
 formed into a full-fledged butterfly of fashion, but — 
 that he wore his long, wide, ample-caped, new cloak 
 wro7ig side out ! 
 
 At the recent Peace Convention in Paris, even 
 those strenuous adherents to things as they were^ the 
 Turks, wore the usual dress of Europeans and Ame- 
 ricans throughout, with the single exception of the 
 fez^ which, I believe, no adherent of Mahomet will 
 renounce, except with his religion. Young Charles 
 
 P told me that Count Orloff's sable-lined takna 
 
 was of the most unexceptionable Parisian cut. 
 
 An agreeable young friend of mine, the Rev. Mr. 
 EL, contrives to support a family (Heaven only 
 knows how !) upon the few hundred dollars a year 
 that make the usual salary of a country clergyman. 
 He indulges himself, at rare intervals, in a visit to his 
 fashionable city relatives, by way of necessary relax- 
 ation, and to brush up a little in matters of taste, lite- 
 rature, etc. Perhaps, too, he thinks it well, occa- 
 sionally, to return, with his wife and children, the long 
 visits made every summer by a pretty fair representa- 
 tion of his numerous family circle at the pleasant 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 61 
 
 little rectory, where refinement, industry, and the 
 ingenuity of a practical housekeeper, create a charm 
 often lacking in more pretentious establishments. 
 
 On one of these important occasions, it was decided 
 that the handsome young rector should avail him- 
 self of his city jaunt to purchase a new suit of clothes, 
 his best clerical coat, notwithstanding the most care- 
 ful use and the neatest repairing, being no longer 
 presentable for ceremonious purposes. (I make no 
 doubt that the compatibility of the contemplated 
 journey and the new clothes, both in the same year, 
 was anxiously discussed in family council.) 
 
 As soon as possible after his arrival in town, my 
 clerical friend broached the all-important subject of 
 the tailor, to one of his brothers, a youth of unques- 
 tionable authority in such matters, and invoked his 
 assistance. 
 
 " With all my heart. Will, we'll drop in at my 
 own place, as we go down this morning ; they get 
 everything up there artistically." " And at artistic 
 prices, I fear," soliloquized the new candidate for 
 the honors of the cloth, with a slight quaking at 
 heart, as a long-cherished plan for adding, without 
 her previous knowledge, a shawl to the waning 
 bridal outfit of his self-sacrificing wife, rose before 
 his mental vision. 
 
 " But, I say, Will," inquired his modish brother, of 
 our young clergyman, in a tone of good-humored ban- 
 ter, as they sauntered down Broadway together, after 
 breakfast, " where did you buy your new chapea^i /" 
 
 " At A ; before leaving homo " 
 
ss 
 
 '^ Excuse me, my dear fellow, but it's a nondes- 
 cript ! It will never do with your new suit, allow 
 me to say, frankly." 
 
 " But the person of whom I bought it had just 
 returned from 'Now York, and he assured me it was 
 the latest fashion ! I gave him eight dollars for it, 
 at any rate." 
 
 " Preposterous I" ejaculated the man of fashion, 
 in a tone portentous as that which ushered in the 
 " prodigious " of Dominie Sampson, when astounded 
 by his discoveries in the mysteries of the toilet. 
 " It first saw the light in the ' rural districts,' depend 
 on't !" 
 
 The quizzical glances with which his companion 
 ever and anon scrutinized the crowning glory of his 
 neat morning attire, as he had previously thought it, 
 gradually overpowered the philosophy of my friend, 
 — clergyman though he was — the admitted Adonis 
 of his class in college, and the favorite of ladies, old 
 and young. The church's 
 
 " favorites are but men. 
 
 And who e'er felt the stoic when 
 First conscious of" 
 
 wearing a "shocking bad hat!" The result was, 
 that the condemned article was exchanged at a fash- 
 ionable establishment for one fully meeting the 
 approbation of the modish critic. 
 
 " What ! another new hat ?" cried the young wife, 
 whose quick woman's eye at once caught the je tu§ 
 
TO POLITENESS AKD FASHION. 63 
 
 sazs quoi — the air of the thing, as her husband 
 rejoined her later in the day. 
 
 The gentleman explained ; — " And you thought 
 the other so becoming too, Belle," he added, in a 
 half-deprecatory tone ; " but Chauncey was so 
 strenuous about it, and I knew he would appeal to 
 you, and that you would not be satisfied without" 
 
 " But they allowed you really nothing for the other, 
 though it was quite new, and certainly a nice hat. 
 What a pity, now, that you did not travel in your old 
 one, though it was a little worse for wear, or even in 
 
 the cap you bought to fish in. There was Mr. in 
 
 the same car with us, looking anything but elegant^ 
 I am sure, with the queerest-looking old " Kossuth," 
 I believe they are called, on, and the roughest over- 
 coat !" 
 
 " But, you know. Belle, dear, such a dress is not 
 considered admissible for the clergy." 
 
 " 'Eo ! well, whatever is sensible and convenient 
 should be, I am convinced now, if I was not before." 
 
 Our young clergyman, as he turned the still-che- 
 rished plan of the new shawl anxiously in his mind, 
 a " sadder and a wiser " man than before, deter- 
 mined never again to buy a new dress hat expressly 
 to perform a journey in, especially when going 
 directly from the " rural districts " to a large city ; 
 besides laying up for future use some other colla- 
 teral resolutions and reflections of an equally wise 
 and practical character. 
 
 " Why, Belle," said the " superb " Chauncey to 
 Lis fair sister-in-law, drawing her little son nearer to 
 
54 
 
 him, as lie leaned on his mother's lap after dinner, 
 " this is really a magnificent boy, 'pon-my-word ! — 
 you should take him to ' Bradbrook's ' and fit him 
 up ! Would you like a velvet jacket, eh, my fine 
 fellow?" 
 
 The curly-headed child pointed his dimpled fore- 
 finger towards the pretty garment he was wearing, 
 and said, timidly, " Pretty new coata, mamma made 
 for him." 
 
 " I believe," responded the young mother, quietly, 
 bending her beaming eyes upon the little face lov- 
 ingly upturned to hers, " that Willie will have to do 
 without a velvet jacket for the present ; mamma in- 
 tended to get one for him in l^ew York, but " the 
 
 sentence was finished mentally with " papa's second 
 new hat has taken the money." This will reveal the 
 secretly-cherished plan of the young rector's wife, 
 with which a faint sketch of a pretty cap to crown 
 the shining curls of her darling, had dimly mingled, 
 almost unconsciously to herself, until brought out by 
 the power of that " tide in the aflraii*s of men " — 
 necessity 1 
 
 Sitting in the same seat in a railroad car with ex- 
 Chief- Justice , than whom there is no more 
 
 eminent jurist nor finished gentleman in the land, 
 discoursing earnestly of old times and new, our con- 
 versation was suddenly interrupted, as we stopped to 
 feed our iron steed, by the loud salutation of a youth 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 55 
 
 who seemed to take more pains than the law re- 
 quires under such circumstances, to enunciate the 
 name of my companion. "Pleasant morning, Judge! 
 — if I don't intrude " (a glance at me, and no intro- 
 duction by the chief-justice), " is this seat unoccu- 
 pied ?" And down he sat vis-a-vis to us. 
 
 He had the talk pretty much to himself, for a 
 while. By-and-by, our uninvited guest apologized 
 for his gloves, half-worn fine black kid. They were 
 " really too bad ; must have taken them up by mis- 
 take, in the hurry of getting ofi*," etc. 
 
 " I always keep an old pair expressly for these 
 abominably dirty cars, but, I believe, I have forgot- 
 ten to put them on this morning," said the vener- 
 able lawyer, in a peculiarly quiet tone, unfolding, as 
 he spoke, the ample, old-fashioned, travel-worn 
 camlet cloak, beneath which his arms had hitherto 
 been crossed, and thus revealing his neat, simple 
 dress, and the warm, clean lining of his outer gar- 
 ment. Taking a well-worn pair of soft beaver 
 gloves from an inside pocket, the judge, with an air 
 of peculiar deliberation, drew them upon hands, 
 " small to a fault," as the novels say, and as white 
 as those myths are supposed to be, and re-adjusted 
 his arms and cloak with the same deliberation. A 
 nice observer might note a slight gleam of the well- 
 known smile, whose expressive sarcasm had so often 
 withstood professional insolence and ignorance, as 
 the chief justice turned his head, and cursorily sur- 
 veyed his fellow-passengers. 
 
 " Who is that young man, sir ?" I inquired, when 
 
56 
 
 we were, soon after, upon again stopping, relieved 
 of the presence of this jackanapes. 
 
 " His name is ," replied the judge. " A 
 
 scion of the law, I think now — a son of the —r — , 
 
 who made a fortune, you may remember, by the 
 sudden rise of "West India molasses, some few years 
 ago (a pause). I never rate a man by his antece- 
 dents. Colonel, but a little modesty is always suit- 
 able and becoming, in very young jpersons^'' added 
 the chief-justice, somewhat sententiously. 
 
 You will, perhaps, remember the commotion 
 created by the promulgation of Marcy's edict 
 respecting the dress to be worn on state occasions, 
 by our representatives abroad. 
 
 Our accomplished young countryman, Mr. H. S ^ 
 
 though nominally Secretary of Legation, was virtu- 
 ally our minister, at St. Cloud, when this order was 
 published. In simple compliance with his instruc- 
 tions, the American secretary appeared at a court 
 dinner in the suit of plain black, prescribed by his 
 government. The premonitions of a revolution could 
 scarcely have created more consternation among the 
 officials of the Tuileries, and even the diplomatic dig- 
 nitaries assembled, experienced a sensation. The 
 Turkish ambassador was surprised out of the usually 
 imperturbable stoicism of a devout follower of the 
 mighty prophet of Moslemdom. 
 
 " What are you doing here," he growled, as the 
 young republican arrested his attention, in Ian- 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 57 
 
 guage more remarkable for Oriental figiirativeness 
 than for Parisian elegance, " a raven among so many 
 birds of gay plumage ?" 
 
 The newspaper writers of the day, commentmg 
 upon this, said that the minister from Yenezuela — 
 the most insignificant government represented, was 
 most bedizened with gold lace, stars, and trumpery 
 of every sort. These letters, prepared for home pe- 
 rusal, were re-published in the Paris papers, and of 
 course, met the eyes of all the parties alluded to ! 
 
 S told one of my friends that among the annoy- 
 ances to which the whole affair subjected him, was 
 that of being subsequently constantly thrown in con- 
 tact with the various personages with whose names 
 his own had been, without his previous knowledge, 
 unceremoniously, associated. 
 
 !N"o doubt, however, his skillful diplomacy carried 
 him as triumphantly through this difficulty as through 
 others of vital importance. 
 
 Dining w^ith this polished young diplomate, at the 
 Tremont in Boston, where we met soon after his re- 
 turn home, the conversation turned upon the personal 
 appearance of Louis ITapoleon, and from his wire- 
 drawn moustaches diverged to the subject of beards 
 in general. 
 
 " The truth is, Col. Lunettes," said Mr. S , in 
 
 French, — which by the way, he both speaks and 
 writes, as he does his native tongue, with great purity 
 and propriety, and this to our shame be it said, is 
 far enough from being generally the case with our 
 various officials abroad, " the truth is, Col. Lunettes, 
 
 3* 
 
58 
 
 (I detected a just perceptible glance at my furrowed 
 cheek, which was, however, smooth-shaven as his 
 own) that a clean face is getting to he the distinctive 
 mark of a gentleman /" 
 
 " My dear Miss ," said I to a charming woman, 
 
 whose cordial smile of recognition drew me within the 
 magic circle of her influence, at a ball, where I had 
 been for some little time a * quiet looker-on,' " will 
 you pardon the temerity of an old friend in inquir- 
 ing what induced your chilling reception of the hand- 
 some stranger whom I saw presented to you with 
 such empressement by our host a little while ago? 
 If you could have seen the admiration with which 
 he long regarded you at a distance, ' his eye in a fine 
 frenzy rolling,' — as he leaned against the — the cor- 
 ner of the big fiddle, there, while the music was at 
 supper ! — could you have seen this, as others saw it, 
 and then the look of deep desperation with which 
 he swallowed a bottle of champagne at a standing, 
 when he fled from your frowns to the supper-room I 
 — Eeally, Miss , I have seldom had my sympa- 
 thies so excited for a stranger " — 
 
 By this time her ringing laugh stirred the blood 
 into quicker pulsations through my time-steeled 
 heart ; " Oh, Colonel, Colonel !" cried she, in tones, 
 mirth-engendering as the silvery call of Dian, goddess 
 of the dewy morn, (is that poetry, I wonder?) "I see 
 you are just as delightfully quizzical as during our 
 Alpine journey together. I have never quite for- 
 
TO rOLITENESS AND FASHION. 59 
 
 given the Fates for robbing our party of 6J> inimit- 
 able a conipagnon de voyage., and me of" — "so 
 devout an admirer !" I chimed in : " and me of so 
 devout an admirer," proceeded the lady, with a quick 
 spirit-flash in her deep violet eyes, " and when we 
 were just becoming so well acquainted, too ! It was 
 too provoking ! Do you remember the amusement we 
 had from recalling the various characteristic excla- 
 mations of the different members of our party, when, 
 the Italian plains burst upon our view, out-spread 
 before us in the morning sunlight, after that horrid 
 night in the shepherd's hut ?" 
 
 " If I recollect, it was your avowed slave, * gentle- 
 man John ' as you called him, who shouted, * O, ye 
 Gods and little fishes ! — nothing bad about that, by 
 thunder V That fellow carried the ladies, as he did 
 everything else, by storm " — 
 
 " No, no. Colonel, not all the ladies ; but I was going 
 to tell you about this * mysterious stranger,' or ' ro- 
 mantic stranger' — what sobriquet did you give him ? 
 Suppose we go nearer the door, it is so warm here," 
 and she twined an arm that threw Powers into a rap- 
 ture,* confidingly around the support proffered her 
 by an old soldier, and we gradually escaped from the 
 crowd (any one of the men would willingly have stil- 
 lettoed me, I dare say !) into a cool corner of the hall. 
 
 " I am sorry you thought me rude, colonel," she 
 began, a tint, soft as the shadow of a crimson rose 
 flitting over her expressive face. 
 
 I entered a protest. 
 
 * Reraiud me to tell you about that some other tim». 
 
CO 
 
 *'l dare say my maiiner was peculiar," resumed 
 my fair companion, "but I fear ' no rule of courtly 
 grace to measured mood' will ever ' train' m.j face ; 
 and — the truth is. Colonel, that, though I love and 
 honor my own countrymen beyond the men of all 
 other lands, I do wish they would imitate well-bred 
 foreigners in some respects. I hate coxcombs ! I be- 
 lieve every woman does at heart. I^ow, here is this 
 person. Colonel C , I think, if I heard the name ?" 
 
 " Wherefore 6'c>Zc>n^Z, and of what ?" thought I, but 
 I only answered — " Really, I am not able to say." 
 
 " Well, at any rate, I identified the man, beyond 
 a perad venture, as the same individual who sufficed 
 for my entertainment during a little journey from 
 
 home to G , the other day. As papa, in his 
 
 stately way, you know, committed me to the care 
 
 of the conductor, saying that * Miss 's friends 
 
 would receive her at Gr ,' I observed (luckily, my 
 
 fastidious father did not) the broad stare with which 
 a gi*eat bearded creature, at a little distance from us, 
 turned round in his seat and surveyed us. When I 
 withdrew from the window, from which I had looked 
 to receive — to say good-bye, again, to papa " — 
 
 I would have given — ^I think I would have given 
 — ^my Lundy-Lane sword, to have occasioned the 
 momentary quiver in that musical voice, and the 
 love-light in that half-averted eye I After a scarce 
 perceptible pause, the lovely narrator proceeded : 
 
 " There was that huge moon-struck face — [" surv" 
 tivuck^ perhaps ?" I queried, receiving a slight fan- 
 pass for my pains]— such a contrast to papa's! star 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 61; 
 
 ing straight at me, still. I busied myself with a book, 
 behind my veil, and presently knew, without look- 
 ing, that the gentleman had gradually returned to 
 his former position. Now came my turn to scrutinize, 
 though the ' game was scarcely worth the powder.' " 
 
 " Spoken like the true daughter of a gentleman- 
 sportsman !" I exclaimed, and this time was rewarded 
 with an irradiating smile. 
 
 " Well, such a rolling about of that alderman-like 
 figure, such a buttoning and unbuttoning ! But this 
 was all nothing to his steam-engine industry in the 
 use of the ' weed.' I turned sick as I observed part 
 of the shawl of a lady sitting before the creature 
 hanging over near him. After a while, he sallied 
 forth, at one of the stopping-places, and soon returned 
 with — (expressive hue !) — an immense green ajpjple ! 
 It seemed for a time likely to prove the apple of dis- 
 cord, judging from the hungry glances cast at it by 
 a long, lank, thinly-clad old man across the car. 
 But now came the ' tug of war.' It scarce required 
 my woman's wit to divine the motive that had 
 prompted the tasteful selection of the alderman's 
 lunch. A glove was pompously drawn off, and — • 
 behold ! a great ^a^e of a ring on the smallest, I can- 
 not truthfully say Z^'^^Z^-finger, set with a huge red 
 cornelian, that looked for all the world like a cran- 
 berry-jam in a setting of puff-paste ! As the big 
 apple slowly diminished under the greedy eyes of 
 the venerable spectator of this rich Tantalus-feast, 
 my heart melted with pity." 
 
 A well-affected look of surprise on the part of her 
 
62 
 
 auditor, here claimed the attention of the fair 
 speaker. 
 
 " Don't alarm yourself, Colonel ! ' Pity 'tis, 'tis 
 true,' my compassion was excited only towards the 
 poor finger that, stout as it looked, must soon be 
 worn to the bone, if often compelled to do duty at 
 the speed with which it was worked that day. Ima- 
 gine the poor thing stuck straight out with that heavy 
 stone pate upon it, while the proprietor plied his 
 hand from his mouth to the car- window hehind him, 
 with the industrious regularity of a steam ferry-boat, 
 professedly laden with little bits of apple-skin, but 
 really intended — oh, most flattering tribute to my 
 discriminating powers! — to cajptivate my fancy ^ 
 through, my eye P 
 
 When my amusement had somewhat subsided, 
 I said to my fair friend : 
 
 " I suppose the doughty alderman finished his 
 repast, like Jack the Giant-killer, by eating up the 
 famishing old man who had the insolence to watch 
 him while breakfasting ?" 
 
 " I am happy to be able to say," replied she, " that 
 the long, lean, lanky representative of our fallen 
 race, not only escaped being thoroughly masticated 
 and thrown by little handfuls out of the car-window, 
 but when Jack the Giant-killer, and almost every 
 one else had gone out of the car, was presented by 
 a lady with two nice large sandwiches that she hap- 
 pened not to need." 
 
 "And that benevolent lady was" 
 
 A movement among the dancers here crowded 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 63 
 
 several acquaintances into such close contact with us 
 that we could not avoid overhearing their conversation. 
 
 " Do you know that large man, wearing so much 
 beard, Mr. Jerome ?" 
 
 " Know him ? certainly I do, Miss Blakeman. 
 
 That's C , Col. C , the rich New York grocer. 
 
 He is one of the city aldermen — they talk of him for 
 the legislature — quite a character, I assure you." 
 
 "He evidently thinks so himself," rejoined one of 
 the group ; "just notice him in that polka ! I heard 
 him telling a lady, a moment ago, that he had not 
 missed a single set, and wouldn't for anything." 
 
 "They say," pursued a lady, " that he is paying 
 
 his addresses to that prelty little Miss S , who 
 
 was so much admired here, last winter ; she is an 
 orphan, I think, and quite an heiress." 
 
 A perceptible shiver ran through the clinging arm 
 that still graced my own, and as I moved away with 
 my sweet charge, she murmured, in the musical 
 tongue of the Beautiful Land, as she ever calls Italy, 
 " the gentle dove for the vulture's mate !" 
 
 Will that do for this time, boys? Or do you 
 require that, in imitation of the little Grecian Hunch- 
 back, a moral shall be appended to each of his nar- 
 ratives, by your 
 
 Uncle Hal. 
 
 P. S. — ^In accordance with my promise, there 
 follow the admirable directions and remarks of the 
 
64 THE AMERICAK GENTLEMAn's GUIDE 
 
 elegant and obliging friend referred to in my pre- 
 vious letter. He will, I trust, permit me thus to 
 tender him, renewedly, my very grateful acknow- 
 ledgment of his flattering politeness, and to express 
 my sense of the important addition made by his 
 kindness to my unpretending epistles. 
 
 " My dear Col. Lunettes : 
 
 *' I regard myself as highly compli- 
 mented that so distinguished a representative of the 
 ancien regime^ as yourself, one so entirely comme il 
 faut, as all admit, in matters of taste, should esteem 
 my opinion, even in regard to minor points of eti- 
 quette, as worth his attention. 
 
 " I need scarcely add, dear sir, an assurance of my 
 conviction, of the honor you do me by affording me 
 a place in your remembrance, and that I make no 
 doubt your profound knowledge of the world, united 
 witli your unusual opportunities for extensive obser- 
 vation — long un hahitui de helle societe, in various 
 countries, as you have been — will afford a rich treat, 
 as well as much instruction, to those who may be 
 favored with the perusal of your proposed Letters, 
 That he may have the honor to be thus fortunate, la 
 the hope of, dear sir, 
 
 " Your very respectful 
 
 " And obedient servant, 
 
 " Belqravia, Tuesday Morn.y 
 " May 6th, '66." 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 65 
 
 Gentlemen's Dress. — ^The subject now to be 
 treated of, may be divided into several classes : — 
 morning^ jpromenade or visiting^ and evening or 
 hall dress ; wliicb again may be subdivided into 
 others, such as riding-dress^ dress suitable for 
 bachelors'' dinner-parties^ or ojpera (when unaccom- 
 panied by ladies). Besides these again, we have 
 dresses suitable for fishing, shooting, and yachting 
 purposes, which, however, scarcely call for, or admit 
 of, the display of much taste, inasmuch as the occu- 
 pations for which such costumes are designed par- 
 take rather of the nature of healthy exercise than 
 of that quiet and gentlemanly repose necessary to 
 give full effect to the graces of the more elaborate 
 " toilette.''^ Military, iJ^aval, and Court dresses may 
 also be considered out of the scope of the remarks 
 in this letter, because their being made scrupulously 
 in accordance with rigid Regulation Rules, leaves no 
 room for taste, but substitutes the dicta of official 
 routine. 
 
 To commence our exemplifications with a Wedding- 
 Suit, which, from the wearer's approximate connec- 
 tion with the ladies deserves the "^<25 " — it may be 
 remarked that the time of day in which the cere- 
 mony is solemnized should determine the character 
 of the costume, that is to say, whether it should be 
 morning or evening. In either case, however, gene- 
 ral usage allows (not to say demands), a more 
 
66 
 
 marked style than is generally worn in morning or 
 evening usnal wear. Should the wedding take place 
 in the evening^ a very elegant costume is, a dark 
 claret dress- coat, white ribbed-silk, or moire antique^ 
 waistcoat, white silk neckcloth, black trowsers, silk 
 stockings, and shoes. The lining of the sleeves, also, 
 of white silk, coming to the extreme edge of the cuff, 
 imparts a singlarly light and elegant appearance to 
 the hand and glove. An equally elegant Morning 
 Wedding-Dress might consist of a rich, deep-brown 
 frock-coat ; waistcoat of black cashmere, with a small 
 violet-colored palm-leaf figure ; neck-tie of silk, 
 combining colors of black and cherry, or brown and 
 deep blue ; trowsers of delicate drab, or stone-color; 
 gloves primrose, or slate-colored kid. 
 
 The usual Evening-Dress is so imperiously insisted 
 on, that it might be almost classed in the category 
 of uniforms^ being almost invariably composed of 
 hlack coat, vest, and trowsers. Two items, however, 
 in this costume, admit of disquisition amongst " men 
 who dress," viz., the vest and the tie — both of which 
 may be either white or black, without any infraction 
 of the laws of hienseance. This, therefore, must be 
 settled by the taste of the wearer, who should 
 remember that black, having the effect of appa- 
 rently diminishing a man's size, and white that of 
 increasing it, it would, therefore, be judicious for a 
 person of unusual size to tone down his extra bulk 
 by favoring black in both these garments, while he 
 who is below the average standard could, if not 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 67 
 
 actual! J increase his height or size, at least create 
 the impression of more generous proportions. I, 
 however, must confess a decided partiality for a 
 white neck-tie, at least; because, although subject to 
 the disadvantage of being de rigueur amongst 
 waiters and other members of the Yellow Plush 
 Family, it is, nevertheless, always considered unex- 
 ceptionable, at any season, or hour, in any rank, 
 profession, or capacity. 
 
 A Morning Oall should be made in a frocJc-eoat, or 
 at least one in which this style predominates. It 
 must, however, be constantly borne in mind that it 
 is quite impossible to furnish even general rules on 
 any one of these points that shall prove immutable, 
 since not only each successive year, but every vary- 
 ing season produces decided changes in the standard 
 established by Taste and Fashion. 
 
 Bachelors^ Dinner-j^arties are pleasant, social re- 
 unions, at which gentlemen enjoy themselves with 
 more abandon than would, perhaps, be considered 
 consistent with the quiet and more retired respect due 
 to the presence of the " heau sexe'^^ and, as a natural 
 consequence, admit of a more neglige style of costume. 
 Still, however, a certain regard must be had to the 
 requirements of good society ; and as many of these 
 parties, when they break up, adjourn to the opera, 
 or theatre, where they are pretty sure to meet ladies 
 of their acquaintance, a costume half-way between 
 morning and evening is, by tacit agreement, pre- 
 scribed; for instance: — a coat of some dark color 
 
68 THE AMERICAN GENTLEMAn's GUIDE 
 
 (generally termed " medley-colored "), cut rounded 
 over the hips ; black cap ; inner vest, buttoning 
 rather high in the breast ; dark-grey trowsers, and 
 black silk neckerchief, or ribbed silk scarf. 
 
 Instead of giving sketches of particular costumes, 
 it would, perhaps, be better and tend more to 
 develop the importance of dress, if a few remarks 
 were made on the general rules which should guide 
 one in selections for his own wear. 
 
 The four staple colors for men's wear, are Mack^ 
 hlue, hrown, and olive. Other colors, such as drab, 
 grey, mixed, etc., being so far as the principal gar- 
 ments go, what are termed " fancy colors," should 
 be very cautiously used. 
 
 As was remarked above, UacTc has the effect of 
 diminishing size, but it has another more important 
 effect, which is to test, in the severest way, the wear- 
 er's claims to a distinguished appearance. It is a very 
 high compliment to any man to tell him that black 
 becomes him, and it is probably owing to this pro- 
 perty that black is chosen, par excellence, for evening 
 or lall dress. Men, therefore, of average or ordinary 
 pretensions to stylish contour, should bear this in 
 mind, and, when such color is not indispensable, 
 should be careful how far they depend on their own 
 intrinsic dignity. 
 
 Blue, of almost any shade, becomes a light com- 
 plexion, besides being an admirable set-off to black 
 velvet, which can, in almost all cases, be judi- 
 ciously used in the collar, in which case, a lighten 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 69 
 
 shade of hlue (also becoming such a complexion) 
 can be worn without IcilUng (as it is technically 
 termed), the darker shade of the coat — the velvet 
 harmonizing both. 
 
 Brown being what is termed a warm color, is 
 eminently adapted for fall and winter wear — olive 
 and darh green^ for summer. 
 
 When Beau Brummel was asked what constituted 
 a well-dressed man, he replied, *' Good linen— jolenty 
 of it, and country washing.''^ This, perhaps, is rather 
 too primitive. The almost equally short opinion of the 
 French critic is decidedly more comprehensive — 
 ** un homme Men coiffe, et Men chaussi, peut se pr6- 
 senter jpartoutP Under any circumstances, however, 
 it may be laid down as immutable, that the extremi- 
 ties are most important parts, wlien considered as 
 objects for dress, and that a well ajpjpointed hat, 
 faultlessly' fitting glomes, and immaculate hoots, are 
 three essentials to a well-dressed man, without 
 -which the otherwise best constituted dress will 
 appear unfinished. 
 
 Besides the necessity for the greatest care required 
 in the selection of colors, with regard to their har- 
 monizing with each other, and their general adap- 
 tation to the complexion or contour of the wearer, 
 there is another matter of the first importance, 
 and this is, the cut. Of course, everything should 
 be sacrificed to perfect ease, as any garment 
 which pinches, or incommodes the wearer, will 
 strongly militate against the easy deportment of even 
 
70 
 
 the most graceful, and tend to give a contracted and 
 constrained appearance. Every garment^ fkerefore^ 
 should leave the wearer jperfectly free and uncon- 
 trolled in every motion / and, having set out with 
 this proviso, the artiste may proceed to invest his 
 work with all the minute and seemingly immaterial 
 graces and touches, which, although scarcely to be 
 remarked, still impart an aJi/r or character^ which is 
 unmistakable, and is expressed in the French word 
 chique. 
 
 Wadding^ or stujffmg, should be avoided as much 
 as possible. A little may be judiciously used to 
 round off the more salient points of an angular 
 figure, but when it is used for the purpose of creat- 
 ing an egregioufjly false impression of superior form, 
 it is simply snobbish. Some one has called hypo- 
 crisy " the homage which vice pays to virtue." 
 Wadding is the homage which snobbishness jpays to 
 symmetry ! 
 
 A well-dressed man will never be the first to 
 set a new fashion ; he will allow others to hazard 
 the innovation, and decline the questionable honor 
 of being the first to advertise a novelty. Two lines 
 of Pope (I believe), admirably illustrate the middle 
 course : — 
 
 "-Be not the first hy whom the new w tried^ 
 Nor yet the last hy whom Uis set aside.^' 
 
 Besides which he will find it far easier to become 
 a critic than an author / and as there is sure to bo 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 71 
 
 a vast number of men who " greatly daring " dress, 
 he will merely*be at the trouble of discriminating 
 which is worthy of selection or rejection ; he will 
 thus verify the old saw, that " fools make feasts and 
 wise men eat thereof," and avoid, by means of his 
 own knowledge of the hecoming, the solecisms which 
 are pretty certain to occur in a number of experi- 
 ments. 
 
 TrinouijO. 
 
7S THE AMERICAN GENTLEMAN'S GUIDE 
 
 LETTEK III. 
 
 MANNER. 
 
 My deab Nephews: 
 
 In the order of sequence adopted at the 
 commencement of our correspondence, the subject 
 of manner comes next in succession. 
 
 It was the shrewd aphorism of one of the most 
 profound observers of human nature that " Manner 
 is something to all^ and everything to someP 
 
 As indicative of character,^which it undoubtedly 
 is, to a certain extentjl it is well worthy the attention 
 of all youthful aspirants to the honors of the world. 
 And though, like every other attribute, it should bear 
 indubitable marks of individuality, care and atten- 
 tion, before habit has rendered change and improve- 
 ment difficult, will enable every man to acquire that 
 propriety and polish, in this respect, the advantages 
 of which through life can scarcely be overrated. 
 > It has been somewhat paradoxically said, that the 
 fashionable manner of the present day is no manner 
 at all I which means simply — that the manners of 
 the best bred people are those that are least obtruded 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 78 
 
 upon the notice of others, — those most quiet^ natic- 
 *»^^alj and imassuming. 
 
 JU There is, however, a possibility of carrying this 
 -^modish manner to such an extreme as to make it the 
 very height of affectation. If Talleyrand's favorite 
 axiom admits of some qualification, and language is 
 not always used to " conceal our ideas," then should 
 manner^ which is the natural adjunct that lends 
 additional expressiveness to words, be in a degree 
 modified by circumstances — be individualized. 
 "rs Every approach to a rude, noisy, boisterous, man- 
 ' ner, is reprehensible, for the obvious reason that it 
 interferes with the comfort, and, consequently, with 
 the rights of others ; but this is at a wide remove 
 from the ultra-modishness that requires the total sup- 
 pression of every manifestation of natural emotion, 
 and apparently, aims to convert beings influenced 
 by the motives, feelings, and principles that consti- 
 tute humanity, into mere moving automata ! 
 
 In this, as in too many similar matters, Americans 
 are prone to excess. Because scenes are considered 
 bad ton^ in good society abroad, and because the 
 warm-hearted hospitality of olden time sometimes 
 took shape a little more impressingly and noisily 
 than kindness required, some of our fashionable 
 imitators of European models move through the 
 world like resuscitated ghosts, and violate every law 
 of good feeling in an endeavor to sustain at horfie 
 a character for modish nonchalance !j(, Now, take it 
 as a rule through life, my young friends, that aU seVm ^ 
 -I vile imitation degenerates into caricature, ^nd let X 
 
 4 
 
74 THE AMERICAN GENTLEMAN 8 GUIDE 
 
 your adoption and illustration of every part of your 
 system of life be modified by circumstances, and 
 regulated by good sense and manly independence. 
 
 I need scarcely tell you that true politeness is not 
 so much a thing of forms and ceremonies, as of right 
 feelings and nicety of perception. The Golden Eule 
 habitually illustrated in word and action, would pro- 
 duce the most unexceptionable good breeding — ^po- 
 liteness so cosmopolitan that it would be a passport 
 to " good society " everywhere. 
 
 One of the most polished and celebrated of Ameri- 
 can authors has given us as fine and laconic a defini- 
 tion of politeness as I remember to have met with — 
 " Self-respect, and a delicate regard for the rights and 
 feelings of others." 
 
 y^ The good breeding of a true gentleman is not an 
 ' appendage put off and on at the dictate of caprice, 
 or interest, it is essentially apart of himself — a con- 
 stituent of his being, as much as his sense of honesty or 
 honor, and its requirements are no more forgotten or 
 violated than those of any other essential attribute of 
 
 "^ manhood. You will all remember Sir Philip Sid- 
 ney's immortal action in presenting the cup of water 
 to the dying soldier. This w^is a spontaneous result 
 of the habitual self-possession and self-restraint that 
 form the basis of all true good breeding. It is one of 
 the most perfect exhibitions on record of the moral 
 siJblime / but it was, also, only a legitimate result of 
 the instinctive politeness of a Christian gentleman ! 
 
 ^ Manner, then, may be regarded as the expression 
 of inhorent qualities, and though it must, necessarily, 
 
rO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 75 
 
 and should properly, to some extent, at least, vary 
 with the variations of character, it may readily be 
 rendered a more correct and effective exponent of 
 existing characteristics of mind and heart, by judi- 
 >^ cions and attentive training. 
 
 v/ While true good breeding must, from its very na- 
 ' ture bef as I have said/ in all persons and nnder every 
 modification of circumstance substantially the same, 
 the proper mode of exemplifying it, must, with 
 equal propriety, be modified by the exercise of 
 n[^ practical good sense and discriniination..|C Thus, the 
 ' laws of convention, — which, as I have before re- 
 marked, is but another name for the rules of polite- 
 ness, established and adhered to by well-bred people, 
 for mutual convenience — though in some respects as 
 immutable as those of the Modes and Persians, will 
 always be adapted, by persons of good sense, to the 
 mutations of circumstance and the inviolable requi- 
 sitions of that " higher law," whose vital principle is 
 ^^Mndness Jcindly expressed P'^ Having now esta- 
 blished general principles, let us turn to the conside- 
 ration of practical details. 
 •^ There is, perhaps, no better test of good manners 
 afforded by the intercourse of ordinary life, than 
 that of conduct towards superiors in age or station ,V 
 ('' Young America " seems loth to admit that he has 
 any superiors, but we will venture to assume these 
 S^ premises). The general-in-chief of the Revolutionary 
 Army of America is well known to have always ob- 
 served tlie most punctilious respect towards his 
 Tnother^ in his personal intercourse with her, as well 
 
76 THE AMEKICAN GENTLEMAn's GUIDE 
 
 as in every other relation of life. My word for it, 
 he never spoke of her as the " old woman ;" nor 
 could one of the youthful members of his military 
 family have alluded, in his hearing, to a parent as 
 the " governor," or the " old governor," without ex- 
 citing the disapproving surprise of "Washington and 
 his co-patriots. And yet our young republic has 
 known no more high-bred and polished men than 
 those of that day, — the stately and elegant Hancock, 
 even when broken by time and disease, a graceful 
 and punctilious observ^er of all the ceremonious 
 courtesies of life ; the courtly Carroll, whose benign- 
 ant urbanity was the very impersonation of a long 
 line of old English gentlemen; and the imposing state- 
 liness of the commander-in-chief, ever observant of 
 the most minute details of propriety, whether in the 
 familiar intercourse of daily life, or while conducting 
 the most momentous affairs of his country. But to 
 return from this unpremeditated digression. E'ever 
 let youthful levity, or the example of others, betray 
 you into forgetfulness of the claims of your parents 
 4^or elders, to a certain deference. Depend upon it, 
 the preservation of a just self-respect demands this. 
 Your historical studies will have furnished you 
 with evidence of the respect habitually rendered to 
 superiors by those nations of antiquity most cele- 
 brated for advancement in civilization ; and you will 
 not have failed, also, to remark that nothing more 
 surely heralded the decay of ancient empires than 
 degeneracy in this regard. 
 4^ Next to the reverence ever due to parents, may 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 7T- 
 
 be ranked that which should be rendered to virtuous 
 age, irrespective of station or other outward attri- 
 •^butes.y I should deem this instinctive with all right- 
 minded young persons, did I not so often, in the 
 
 . street, at chm-ch, in social life, in public places 
 generally, observe the manner in which elderly 
 persons are, apparently, wholly overlooked. 
 
 J Here, the universally-applicable law of kindness 
 claims regard. Those of the pilgrims of earth, 
 whose feet are descending the narrowing vale that 
 leads to the dim obscure unpenetrated by mortal 
 eyes, are easily pained by even the semblance of 
 indifference or neglect. They are sensitively alive 
 to every intimation that their places in the busy 
 arena of active life are already better hlled by 
 others ; that they are rather tolerated than essential. 
 Those who are most worthy of regard are least 
 S likety to be insensible to such influences. Remem- 
 ber, then, that you should never run the race of life 
 so "fast" as to encroach upon the established claims, 
 of your predecessors in the course. Nor would the 
 most prematurely sage yonng man be entirely unbe- 
 nefited, it may be, by availing himself occasionally 
 of the accumulated experience, erudition, and know- 
 ledge of the world, possessed by many a quiet " old 
 fogy," whose unassuming manners, modest self- 
 respect, and pure integrity present a just model to 
 " Young America," albeit, perchance, too old-fash- 
 
 H^ioned to be deemed worthy of attention 1 
 
 ? While the general proposition — that manner is, to 
 a considerable extent character in action^ is un- 
 
78 THE AMERICAN GENTLEMAN's GUIDE 
 
 doubtedly correct, we occasionally see the exact 
 converse painfully exemplified. It sometimes occurs 
 that the most amiable persons labor through life 
 under the disadvantage of a diffident or awkward 
 manner, which does great injustice to their intrinsic 
 excellences. And this is but another evidence of 
 the necessity of the earliest attention to this subject- 
 Though no one should be discouraged in an 
 endeavor to remedy the defects arising from neglect, 
 in this respect (and, indeed, it may properly be con- 
 sidered as afi'ording room for ceaseless advancement, 
 like every other portion of the earthly education 
 of immortal beings), few persons, perhaps, ever com- 
 pletely overcome the difficulties arising from inat- 
 tention to this important branch of education, while 
 youthful pliancy renders the formation of habits 
 comparatively easy. 
 H- The early acquisition of habits of self-posses- 
 sion and self control, will furnish the surest basis 
 for the formation of correct manners. "With this 
 should be united, as far as is practicable, constant 
 association with well-educated and well-bred persons, 
 there is no friction like this to produce external 
 polish, nor can the most elaborate rules furnish an 
 , effectual substitute for the ease that practice alone 
 ••^ secures. 
 
 Lose no opportunity, therefore, for studiously 
 observing the best living models, not for the pur- 
 pose of attempting an undiscriminating imitation of 
 even the most perfect, but, as an original and gifted 
 artist derives advantage from studying works of 
 
 '¥■ 
 
TO POLITENESS AKD FASHION. 79 
 
 genius, hy the great masters of art, to avail your- 
 self of til 
 experience. 
 
 self of tlie matured knowledge resulting from 
 
 But now for an exemplary anecdote or two : — 
 
 " Colonel Lunettes, do you know some gentleman 
 
 going to U in this train ?" inquired my friend 
 
 ex-Governor T , extending his hand to me in 
 
 the car-house of one of our western cities. " I wish 
 to place a very pretty young lady under the care of 
 some suitable person for a short time, until she 
 joins a party of friends." 
 
 " Eeally, my dear sir, I regret that I have just 
 arrived," returned I ; " you tempt me to turn about 
 and go over the ground again." 
 
 " Uncle T , there is II B just getting 
 
 out of that car," cried a young lady, approaching us, 
 with two or three fair companions, " perhaps he is 
 going on." 
 
 At this moment a young man, in a dress that 
 might have been that of the roughest back-woods- 
 man, approached the group. 
 
 He wore a very broad-brimmed, coarse straw hat, 
 capable of serving the double purpose of umbrella 
 and chapeau, his hands were incased in strong 
 gauntlet-gloves, and he carried a large engineer s 
 field-book under one arm. 
 
 Eemoving his hat, as he somewhat hesitatingly 
 advanced, and passing his hand over a beard of 
 several days' growth, glancing downward, at the 
 
80 
 
 same time, upon lieavj-soled boots, thickly encrusted 
 with dry mud — 
 
 " Ladies," said he, " I am too dirty to come near 
 you ; I have been surveying in the swamps in this 
 neighborhood for several days past, camping out, 
 and jumped upon the cars a few miles back, 
 bound for my stationary quarters and — the llessings 
 of civilization P^ And, with the color deepening in 
 his sun-burnt face, he bowed to us all, with a grace 
 that Count d'Orsay could scarcely have exceeded. 
 
 The youth was very cordially welcomed by his 
 friends ; little Kitty, who is privileged to say any- 
 thing, declared she " never saw him look so hand- 
 some ;" and, I confess, that even my flinty old heart 
 was favorably moved towards the young engineer. 
 I admired the good taste that dictated an explana- 
 tion of the soiled condition of his clothes (his thick 
 linen shirt, however, was clean) ; not an absurd apo- 
 logy for not being well-dressed^ and I liked his use 
 of the good, significant Saxon word that most truth- 
 fully described his condition. 
 
 After an exchange of civilities, turning respect- 
 fully to the governor, he said : " Governor T , can 
 
 I be of any service ? You seemed to be looking for 
 some one." 
 
 An explanation of the circumstances resulted in 
 the resignation of his fair charge to the temporary 
 care of this same toil-worn, " dirty " young engi- 
 neer, by my friend, who is himself one of the most 
 fastidious and world-polished of men ! 
 
 A few days after this trifling adventure, I went, by 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 81 
 
 invitation, to pass a day with my friend the ex-govern- 
 or, at his beautiful residence a little out of the city. 
 
 Standing near one of the drawing-room windows, 
 just before dinner, I observed a gentleman alighting 
 from a carriage, at the entrance of the mansion. I 
 was struck with his elegant air, as he kissed his hand 
 to some one who was, like myself, an observer on the 
 occasion. 
 
 " There is H — B !" exclaimed the joyous voice 
 
 of pretty Kitty, the niece of my host, and a little 
 scrutiny, while he was paying his compliments to 
 the several members of the family, enabled me to 
 recognize in this graceful stranger the rough-looking 
 youth I had previously seen at the depot. But what 
 a metamorphosis ! He now wore an entirely modish 
 dinner-dress, exquisitely tasteful in all its appoint- 
 ments ; his coat of the most faultless lit, and boots 
 that displayed a very small and handsome foot to 
 admirable advantage. I afterwards noticed, too, 
 that " camping out " in the '' swamps " had not, appa- 
 rently, impaired the smoothness of the slender fingers 
 and carefully-cut nails that came under my observa- 
 tion while listening, in the course of the evening, te 
 the rich voice and guitar accompaniment of Mr. B . 
 
 "Did Mr. B come out in a carriage ?" inquired 
 
 one of the ladies of the family, in a low tone, of my 
 host, near whom I was standing, when arrangements 
 were to be made for the return of the guests to town. 
 
 " Certainly he did," answered the governor, " Mr. 
 
 B is too much of a sybarite to heat himself by 
 
 walking out here to dinner, on such a day as this." 
 
 4* 
 
8i 
 
 "And too economical, I have no doubt, judging 
 from liis good sense in other respects," I added, " to 
 spoil a pair of costly dress boots in such service." 
 
 " Mrs. M , one moment, if you please," said a 
 
 voice behind us, and Mrs. M (who is the acting 
 
 mistress of the mansion) took the arm politely prof- 
 fered her, and stepped out upon the portico. Pre- 
 sently she returned — 
 
 " Uncle T ," whispered she (" excuse me. Col. 
 
 Lunettes), John need not get up our carriage ; Mr. 
 
 B has been so polite as to insist upon our sending 
 
 the girls home in his, sayiflg that he really prefers to 
 sit outside, and that the carriage in which he drove 
 out is to be here in a few minutes." 
 
 " He happened to know that John has to be up 
 with the lark, about another matter," remarked the 
 host, " and " — — 
 
 " How kind !" returned the lady ; " but Mr. B 
 
 does everything so agreeably that one does not know 
 which to admire most — the charm of his ma/riner^ 
 
 "The good hr ceding^ from which it springs !" ex- 
 claimed the governor, finishing the eulogy. 
 
 Attending a lady from the dinner-table at the St, 
 Nicholas, in New York, she begged me to wait with 
 her for a few minutes, near the passage conducting 
 to the drawing-rooms, saying, playfully, that she 
 wished to way-lay a gentleman. "I have been all 
 the morning," she then explained, " trying to meet a 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 8S 
 
 Kussian friend of ours, wlio is certainly staying here, 
 though we cannot succeed in seeing him. My hus- 
 band charged me, before we parted this morning, as 
 he was obliged to go out of town for the day, with a 
 message for our friend, which he said must be deli- 
 vered by me in person. Ah, there he is now !" and 
 she advanced a step towards an elderly gentleman 
 accompanying a lady. 
 
 I released her arm from mine, of course, and 
 retired a little ; the other lady also simultaneously 
 withdrawing. I bowed respectfully to her. 
 
 " Have you ever chanced to remark this picture ?" 
 inquired the fair stranger of me, as we stood thus 
 near each other, turning towards the painting of the 
 patron saint of the Knickerbockers, which graced the 
 main staircase of the hotel ; " it is very appropriately 
 selected." 
 
 Nothing could be more unmistakably refined and 
 high-bred than the bearing of the interlocutor, while 
 we chatted a moment or two longer. 
 
 " I beg your pardon, madam, for depriving you of 
 your cavalier ; nothing but necessity could excuse it" 
 — began the lady, who had been talking earnestly 
 in the meanwhile with the Russian, approaching us. 
 She was at once relieved from making further expla- 
 nation. 
 
 " Pray don't name it — and allow me to renew my 
 slight acquaintance with you," offering her hand. 
 
 "With pleasure," returned my fair friend, in- 
 stantly ; but she looked a little puzzled, despite her 
 courtesy. 
 
84 
 
 " I see you do not recollect the weary traveller who 
 was so much obliged to your politeness in the hotel 
 in Washington, the other night. The only stranger- 
 lady (turning to her attendant) I have met in this 
 country, who has rendered me the slightest civility." 
 
 All this was, of course, quite unintelligible to me, 
 but later in the evening I had the honor of being 
 introduced to these strangers, and, incidentally, 
 received a solution of the mystery. 
 
 While a pleasant party with which I had the good 
 fortune to be associated, was cozily gathered in one 
 of the quiet little drawing-rooms of the St. Nicholas, 
 the conversation turned upon the difference of 
 manners in different nations. Let me premise a 
 brief explanation, that you may the better under- 
 stand what follows. The Kussian gentleman, whom 
 I had seen in the passage, is Dr. de H , a distin- 
 guished savani, travelling in the service of his impe- 
 rial master, and the lady whom he was attending 
 from dinner a Frenchwoman of high birth and 
 breeding. My fair charge is the wife of an officer 
 of our army, who nearly lost his life in the late Mex- 
 ican war, returning home covered alike with woundg 
 and honors, and with still I don't know how many 
 bullets in his body, as life-long tokens of his bravery. 
 His heroic young wife, when she learned that he had 
 landed at New Orleans, as soon after the conclusion 
 of peace as his condition enabled him to be conveyed 
 to the sea-board and make the voyage, set out to join 
 him at the South, with an infant of only a few weeks 
 old, and herself in enfeebled health. — They had been 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION 85 
 
 married but a short time, when Col. Y was 
 
 ordered to the seat of war, and the lady was a belle 
 and a beauty, of scarce nineteen — the cherished idol 
 of wealth and affection. These persons, and one or 
 two others were, with myself, seated, as I have said, 
 cozily together for a little talk, after dinner. 
 
 Taking advantage of the temporary absence of 
 
 Mrs. Y , the Frenchwoman, turning to Dr. de 
 
 H , said : " What a charming person ! I must 
 
 tell you about my first meeting with her. You know 
 we are just returned from a little tour at the south 
 of this country. AYell, at Washington, the other 
 evening we have arrived, my husband and I, 
 with my little daughter, Lorrette, very tired and 
 covered with dust, at the hotel. A friend had enga- 
 ged apartments for us, two or three days before, but 
 we were not conducted to them. They led us into a 
 sort of corridor, where gentlemen and ladies were 
 walking, in dinner dress, and left us to stand against 
 the wall for some time. At last Yictor told mo to be 
 patient, and he would go and see. I have thought I 
 sliould fall down with fatigue and vexation, and poor 
 little Lorrette leaned against me and was almost 
 quite asleep. At this moment, a lady and gentle- 
 man who were sitting in a little alcove, which wag 
 in the corridor, observed us, as I saw, though I tried 
 to turn myself from all. They came immediately to 
 us. The gentleman brought a light chair in his 
 hand. 'Madam,' said the gentleman, 'allow me to 
 offer you a seat ; I am surprised that Mr. Willard 
 has no reception-room for travellers.' Before I could 
 
8(> THE AMERICAN GENTLEMAN'S GUIDE 
 
 thank them, properly, the lady said, seeing how Lor- 
 rette had begun to cry, ' Do come and sit over there 
 in the little recess ; there is a larger chair in which 
 the little girl can lie down until you can get your 
 rooms. Pray come ' — and all this with such a sweet 
 manner. Seeing that the gentleman was already 
 looking for another chair to bring to us, I went away 
 with the lady ; saying, however, that I was so sad to 
 come with her in this dress, and to trouble her 
 When we were in the little alcove, almost by our- 
 selves, she placed Lorrette on a little couch, and 
 forced me to sit on the only good chair, saying that 
 she preferred to stand a little, and so many other 
 polite, kind words ! Then, while the gentleman 
 talked a little with me, she began to tell Lorrette 
 that her papa would soon take her to a nice sup- 
 per, and made her look, when she was no longer 
 BO tired, at some nice drawings of colored birds that 
 her friend was showing her when they came to 
 carry us to them." 
 
 You must picture to yourselves the animated 
 gestures, the expressive tones, and the slight Gallic 
 accent that gave double significance to this little 
 sketch, to form a correct idea of the pleasing effect 
 produced upon us all by the narration. Observing Mi's. 
 Y re-entering the room, the charming French- 
 woman only added, enthusiastically: "Eeally these 
 were persons so agreeable, that I could not forget 
 
 them ; as I have told you to-day, Dr. de H , it is 
 
 the only stranger American lady who has ever beec 
 polite in our journev." 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 87 
 
 " Are the ladies of our country, then, so remiss in 
 politeness?*' said a young American lady present, in 
 a deprecatory tone. 
 
 " I beg your pardon, madam," returned the 
 foreigner, " the Americans are the most kind-hearted 
 people in the world, but tliey do not say it ! it is the 
 - — manner /" 
 
 " I shall really begin to think," said Mrs. V , 
 
 " that there is some other cause than my being a 
 brunette for my. being so often taken for a foreigner. 
 I am often asked whether I am from Kew Orleans, 
 or of French extraction." 
 
 I am not surprised," exclaimed Dr. de H , 
 
 "my friend Sir C G , who saw you this 
 
 morning, asked me afterwards what country was you 
 of?" 
 
 "Why, how was that?" 
 
 " He told me he had just given a servant, that 
 stupid old man in the hall, the house-porter, I 
 believe you call him, a card, to take to some room, 
 when you met him, and directed him to go to the 
 office with a message ; but, observing the card in his 
 hand, and that a gentleman stood there, you imme- 
 diately told him to go first with the card and you 
 would wait for him." 
 
 Here the silvery laugh of Mrs. Y interrupted 
 
 the Kussian. " Excuse me," said she, " I remember 
 it ! — that old porter, who always makes a mistake, if it 
 is possible, has so often annoyed me, that this time I 
 was determined, as it was a person I much wished 
 to see, not to lose riy visitor through him, so, after 
 
88 THE AMERICAN UENTIEMAn's GUIDE 
 
 waiting some time in one of these rooms, I went to 
 him to inquire, and sent him to the office, when I 
 found that my poor friend was waiting there, while 
 J waited here. Observing a gentleman who seemed 
 already to have required his services, I bade him go 
 first for liim, of course. ^ Afres vous^ madame^ je 
 vous jprie^'^ said he, with the most courtly air ; — 
 
 so that was Sir C G ?" 
 
 " Yes, madam," answered the savant, " but it was 
 
 your air that was remarkable ! Sir C told me 
 
 that while you both were waiting there you ad- 
 dressed some polite remark to him, pour passer le 
 temps, and that he thought you were not an Ameri 
 can lady, because you spohe to him /" 
 
 ^ Speaking of not speaking^'' said I, when the 
 general amusement had abated, "reminds me of an, 
 amusing little scene that I once witnessed in the 
 public parlor of a New England tavern, where I 
 was compelled to wait several hours for a stage- 
 coach. Presently there entered a bustling, sprightly- 
 looking little personage, who, after frisking about the 
 room, apparently upon a tour of inspection, finally 
 settled herself very comfortably in the large cush- 
 ioned rocking-chair — the only one in the room — and 
 was soon, as I had no reason to doubt, sound asleep. 
 It was not long, however, before a noise of some one 
 entering aroused her, and a tall, gaunt old Yankee 
 woman, hung round with countless bags, bonnet- 
 boxes, and nondescript appendages of various sizes 
 
 * After you are served, madam, I beg. 
 
TO POLITENESS ANB FA80I0K. 89 
 
 and kinds, presented herself to oiir vision. After 
 slowly relieving herself of the mimberless incum- 
 brances that impeded her progress in life, she turned 
 to a young man who accompanied her, and said, in a 
 tone so peculiarly shrill, that it might have been 
 mistaken, at this day, for a railroad whistle : 
 
 " ' Now, Johnathan, don't let no grass grow under 
 your feet while you go for them tooth-ache drops ; I 
 am a'mos' crazy with pain !' laying a hand upon 
 the affected spot as she spoke ; " and here," she 
 called out, as the door was closing upon her messen- 
 ger, 'just get my box filled at the same time!' 
 diving, with her disengaged hand, into the unknown 
 depths of, seemingly, the most capacious of pockets, 
 and bringing to light a shining black box, of sufficient 
 size to hold all the jewels of a modern belle, 'I 
 thought I brought along my snuff-bladder, but I 
 don't know where I put it, my head is so stirred 
 up.' 
 
 " By this time the little woman in the rocking-chair 
 W'as fairly aroused, and rising, she courteously 
 offered her seat to the stranger, her accent at once 
 betraying her claim to be ranked with the politest 
 of nations (a bow, on my part, to the fair foreigner 
 in the group). With a prolonged stare, the old 
 worhan coolly ensconced herself in the vacated seat, 
 making not the slightest acknowledgment of the 
 civility she had received. Presently, she began to 
 groan, rocking herself furiously at the same time. 
 The former occupant of the stuffed chair, who had 
 retired to a window, and perched herself in one of 
 
90 
 
 a long row of high wooden seats, hurried to the suf- 
 ferer. " I fear, madame," said she, " that you 
 Buifare ver' much: — vat can I do for you?" The 
 representative of Yankeedom might have been a 
 wooden clock-case for all the response she made to 
 this amiable inquiry, unless her rocking more 
 furiously tlian ever might be construed into a reply. 
 
 The little Frenchwoman, apparently wholly un- 
 able to class so anomalous a specimen of humanity, 
 cautiously retreated. 
 
 Before I was summoned away, the tooth-ache 
 drops and the snuff together (both administered in 
 large doses !) seemed to have gradually produced 
 the effect of oil poured upon troubled waters. 
 
 The sprightly Frenchwoman again ventured upon 
 the theatre of action. 
 
 "You find yourself now much improved, ma- 
 dame ?" she asked, with considerable vivacity. A 
 very slight nod was the only answer. 
 
 " And you feel dis fauteuil^ really ver' com-for- 
 ta-Ue .^" pursued the little woman, with augmented 
 energy of voice. Another nod was just discern 
 ble. 
 
 No intonation of mine can do justice to the very 
 ecstasy of impatience with which the pertinacious! 
 questioner now actually screamed out : 
 
 " Bien, madame, vil you say so, if you please I" 
 
 1 meant to repeat an impressive little story told ub 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 91 
 
 by my lovely friend, Mrs. Y , before our merry 
 
 little party separated that night ; but, even were this 
 letter not already too " long drawn out," I find my 
 head in very much the condition of that of the old 
 Yankee woman, whom, I trust, I have immortalized, 
 and will, therefore, reserve it for another time, hop- 
 ing that you will pay me the compliment to recol- 
 lect my description of my dramatis personce until 
 then. 
 
 Meanwhile, here is one other anecdote for you: 
 During my usual morning ride, one day lately, I 
 stopped to breathe my horse on the top of a little 
 hill, in the suburbs of one of the villages upon the 
 banks of the Hudson. While enjoying the beauty 
 of the fine landscape before me, my horse, all on a 
 sudden, started violently. I presently discovered 
 the cause of his fright. Some little rascals were at 
 play in the unenclosed yard of an old building near, 
 and one of them was throwing lumps of earth, 
 pieces of broken crockery, rusty sheet-iron, etc., upon 
 the plank-walk in front. As I turned my head 
 towards them, a little urchin who was perched upon 
 a knob of the root of a tree, with his hands upon his 
 knees, cried out, energetically : " There now, look-a 
 there ! Ain't you a pretty fellow ? dirtying up the 
 walk so, when people are going by." His little 
 freckled face expressed real concern, as he looked 
 fixedly up the walk. Glancing in the same direc- 
 tion, I saw an elegantly-dressed lady carefully 
 
92 THE AMERICAN GENTLEMAn's GUIDE 
 
 gathering up lier dress, preparatory to encountering 
 the sharp obstacles in her path, and at once understood 
 the cause of the reproof I had overheard, and which 
 I assure you, I have transcribed verbatim^ though 
 the phrase " pretty fellow " may seem incongruous 
 in the mouth of a dirty little Irish boy. I only hope 
 the lady — whose gentle smile indicated that she too 
 understood the scene — was compensated for being so 
 incommoded, by discerning the inbred politeness of 
 her little champion. 
 
 As it is your desire that I should deal rather with 
 practical realities than with generalities or theories, 
 let us come in my next, without preliminaries, to plain 
 suggestions, presented somewhat in detail, with the 
 usual simplicity and frankness of that " plain, blunt 
 man," 
 
 Your affectionate uncle 
 
 Hai. 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 93 
 
 LETTER lY. 
 
 manner continued : — practical directions. 
 
 My dear ITephews : 
 
 If I riglitly remember, I concluded my 
 last letter to my young correspondents with a promise 
 of attempting in my next, some practical directions 
 in regard to Manner. I will, then, commence, at once 
 premising only in the impressive words of the im- 
 mortal senator, who just at present holds so large a 
 space in the world's eye : " In now opening this great 
 matter, I am not insensible to the austere demands 
 of the occasion." 
 
 Important as Manner undonbtedly is, in every re- 
 lation of life, the cultivation of an unexceptionable 
 deportment at home^ may, perhaps, be regarded as of 
 primary consequence, in securing the happiness at 
 which all aim, though by means, 
 
 " variable as the shade, 
 
 By the light, quivering aspen made." 
 
 I think I have already incidentally alluded to the 
 bad taste, to give it no severer name, so commonly 
 
94: THE AMERICAN GENTLEMAN'S GriDE 
 
 exhibited by young persons in this country, in their 
 conduct towards parents. Let nothing tempt yoiOy 1 
 pray you, into habits so discreditable. Manhood is 
 never depreciated by any true estimate, when yield- 
 ing tribute to the claims of age. — ^Towards your 
 father preserve always a deferential manner, mingled 
 with a certain frankness, indicating that thorough 
 confidence, that entire understanding of each other, 
 which is the best guarantee of good sense in both, and 
 of inestimable value to every young man, blessed with 
 a right-minded parent. Accept the advice dictated 
 by experience with respect, receive even reproof 
 without impatience of manner, and hasten to prove 
 afterwards, that you cherish no resentful remem- 
 brance of what may even have seemed to you top great 
 severity, or too manifest an assumption of authority. 
 Heed the counsel of an old man, who " through the 
 loop-holes of retreat " looks calmly on the busy tide 
 of life rolling forever onward, and let the sod that 
 closes over the heart that throbs no more even with 
 affection and anxiety for you, leave for you only the 
 pain of parting — not the haunting demon oi remorse. 
 Allow no false pride, no constitutional obstinacy, to 
 interfere with the better impulses of your nature, in 
 your intercourse with your father, or to interrupt for 
 an hour the manly trust that should be between you. 
 And in the inner temple of home, as well as when 
 the world looks on, render him reverence due. 
 
 There should be mingled with the habitual deference 
 and attention that marks your manner to your mother^ 
 the indescribable tenderness and rendering back of 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 95 
 
 care and watchfulness that betokens remembrance of 
 her love in earlier days. ISTo other woman should 
 ever induce you to forget this truest, most disinter- 
 ested friend, nor should your manner ever indicate 
 even momentary indifference to her wishes or her 
 affection. Permit me again to refer you to the ex- 
 ample of our country^ s jpride in this regard. You will 
 all remember his marked attention, through life, to 
 his only parent, and the fact that his first appearance 
 in public, on a festive occasion, after the triumph of 
 Yorkstown, was in attendance upon his mother at the 
 ball given at Fredericksburgh, in celebration of that 
 event. A fair friend of mine, who has written the 
 most enthusiastically-appreciative description of this 
 memorable scene that I remember to have read, char- 
 acterizes the manner of WashiDgtou as illustrating 
 the moral suUime, to a degree that filled all behold- 
 ers with admiration. But no one needs the examples 
 of history, or the promptings of friendship, to convince 
 him of a duty to which the impulses of nature un- 
 mistakably direct him : all that I, for a moment, 
 suppose you require, is to be reminded that no 
 thoughtlessness should permit your manner to do 
 injustice to your feelings, in this sacred relation of 
 life. 
 
 The familiarity of domestic intercourse should never 
 degenerate into a rude disregard for the restraints 
 imposed by refinement, nor an unfeeling indifference 
 to the feelings of others. With brothers and sisters 
 even, the sense of equality should be tempered by 
 habitual self-restraint and courtesy. "No man is 
 
9e 
 
 great to his valet de chambre " — no man grows, by 
 the Buperior gifts of nature, or by the power of cir- 
 cumstance, beyond the genial familiarity of domestic 
 intercourse. You may be older and wiser than your 
 brothers, but no prerogatives of birthright, of edu- 
 cation, or of intellect can excuse assumption, or 
 make amends for the rupture of the natural tie that 
 is best strengthened by affectionate consideration 
 and respect. 
 
 To his sisters, every man owes a peculiar obliga- 
 tion arising from the claim nature gives them to his 
 protection, as well as to his love and sympathy. !N"or 
 is this relative claim wholly abrogated even by their 
 being older than he. The attributes and the admitted 
 rights of our sex give even younger brothers the 
 privilege, — and such every well constituted man will 
 consider it, — of assuming towards such relations the 
 position of a friend, confidant and guardian. And 
 the manner of a gentleman will always indicate, un- 
 mistakably, the delicacy, the consideration and the 
 respect he considers due to them. I will not assume 
 the possibility of your being indifferent to their love 
 and interest ; suffice it to say, that both will be best 
 deserved and preserved by a careful admingling of 
 the observances of politeness practised towards other 
 women, with the playful freedom sanctioned by con- 
 sanguinity. The world will give you no substitutes 
 for the friends nature provides — they are bound to 
 you by all ties unitedly. Be ever mindful that no 
 rude touch of yours, sunders or even weakens the ten- 
 derest chords of the heart. 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. ^T 
 
 m 
 Since 
 
 " modest the manners by Nature bestowed 
 
 On Nature's most exquisite child," 
 
 a man's conduct towards his wife should always 
 indicate respect as well as politeness. No rude 
 familiarity should outrage the delicacy that veils 
 femininity, no outward indifference or neglect beto- 
 ken disregard of the sacred claims of the woman, 
 whom, next to his mother, every man is bound in 
 honor, to distinguish beyond all others, by courteous 
 observance. If you consider the affection you doubt- 
 less took some pains, originally, to win, worth pre- 
 serving, if you think it of any moment to retain the 
 attributes ascribed to you by the object of that affec- 
 tion, while you made the endeavor to do full justice 
 to yourself in the eyes of your mistress,^ would it be 
 wise to prefer no further claims to such characteris- 
 tics by your manner to your wife ? I have never 
 forgotten the impression made upon me in youth by 
 an exquisite letter in one of Addison's Spectators, 
 purporting to be written by an old woman, in regard, 
 if I remember, to the very point we are now discuss- 
 ing. It contains, as inclosed to the Solon of polite 
 laws in that day, a note represented to have been 
 
 * I shall take the liberty to use the word " mi«<r<5M," throughout 
 <hese letters, in the sense appropriated to it by Addison, Johnson, 
 and other English classic authors. Sweetheart is too old-fashioned. 
 " Lady-love " suits the style of my fashionable nieces, better than mine. 
 Mistress is an authorized Saxon word, of well-defined meaning, 
 though, like some others, perverted to a bad use, at times. 
 
98 THE AMERICAN GENTLEMAN'S GUIDE 
 
 written to her, by the husband of the lady, from a 
 London coffee-house, upon some emergency, which 
 is the very embodiment of gentle courtesy, and con- 
 cluding with a respectful apology for the coarse 
 paper, and other unseemly appliances of the commu- 
 nication. " Could you see the withered hand that 
 indites this, dear Mr. Spectator," says the correspon- 
 dent of Addison, "you would be still more impressed 
 by the gallantry that remains thus unimpaired by 
 time,'' or words to that effect. I have not the origi- 
 nal to transcribe from, and the copy in my mental 
 toMets is a little dimmed by the wear of years. But 
 though the exact phraseology of the number I allude 
 to is indistinct, I repeat that I have a thousand times 
 recalled the substance with the same pure pleasure 
 and admiration. I have not half done justice to it, 
 and, indeed, I am almost ashamed to have so poorly 
 sketched a picture whose beauty you may best ap- 
 preciate by personal inspection. ]^o tyro should 
 attempt a copy of the production of an old master — • 
 especially when the mental magician fails to place 
 the original before his mind's eye, 
 
 *' Pictured fair, in memory's mystic glass," 
 
 But if you do not despise such old-fashioned litera- 
 ture as the writings of the English classic authors — 
 and certainly, without undue prejudice in their favor, 
 I may venture, I think, to say, that a knowledge of 
 the writings of such men as Johnson, Goldsmith, 
 Burke, and Addison, should make part of the educa- 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 99 
 
 tion of every gentleman — if you will look up this 
 elegant essay, and read it for yourselves, I can safely 
 promise you ample remuneration for your trouble. 
 
 Do not degrade your own ideal by a too minute 
 scrutiny, nor forget that the shrine of the Lares^ though 
 it may be approached with the simplest offerings, is 
 desecrated by even a momentary forgetfulness that 
 its votaries should be 
 
 " Content to dwell in decencies^ forever P* 
 
 Tlie chosen friend of your life, the presiding genius 
 of your home, the mother of your children, then, 
 not only claims the high place of trust and confi- 
 dence, but the lyroof afforded ly manner of the exist- 
 ence and dominance of these sentiments. 
 
 Many men, with the kindest feelings and the 
 clearest perceptions of duty, are, from mere inadver- 
 tency, unobservant of the fact that they habitually 
 give pain to those dependent on them for considera- 
 tion, by neglecting those graces of manner that lend 
 a charm to the most trifling actions. Remember, 
 while you are forming habits, in this respect, how 
 sensitively constituted are the gentler sex, how easily 
 pained, how easily pleased. The more discriminat- 
 ing and affectionate is woman, the more readily is 
 she wounded. Like a harp of a thousand strings, 
 her nature, if rudely approached, is jarred respon- 
 sively, while the gentlest touch elicits an harmonious 
 thrill. The delightful abandon that constitutes one 
 of the most exquisite enjoyments of home, is not aug- 
 
100 
 
 mented, for a man of true refinement, by a total disre« 
 gard of ceremony and self-restraint. Selfishness, ill- 
 humor, and a spirit of petty tyranny, rest assured, 
 though their manifestation be confined to home 
 intercourse, and borne in silence there, will gradu- 
 ally undermine character and essentially diminish 
 domestic happiness. 
 
 Earnestly, therefore, do I admonish my youthful 
 relatives to cultivate a careful observance of tho 
 requisitions of what has been well designated as 
 " domestic politeness.''^ Confer favors with ready 
 cheerfulness, or, if necessary, refuse them with an 
 expression of regret, or a polite explanation. ISTever 
 repel solicitations, much less caresses, with impa- 
 tience, nor allow your bearing to indicate the reluc- 
 tant discharge of a duty that should also be a plea- 
 sure. A smile, an intonation of affection, a glance 
 of appreciation or acknowledgment — small artillery 
 all, I grant, my boys, but they will suffice to make a 
 feU'de-joie in a loving heart, that will, each and 
 every one of them, cause you to be followed in the 
 thorny path of daily life by a blessing that will not 
 harm you ; they will secure you a welcome, when, 
 world- worn, you shall ' homeward plod your weary 
 way,' worth all the gold you have gathered, and 
 well rewarding all the toil you have encountered. 
 
 I will only add, in this connection, that manhood 
 is ennobled by the habitual exercise of delicate for- 
 bearance towards helplessness and dejpendence^ and 
 that a high test of character is the right use ofjpowen 
 Those, then, whom nature teaches to look to you for 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. lOl 
 
 affection, as well as for care and protection — your 
 mother, wife, sisters — should invariably derive from 
 your manner evidence of the steadfastness of your 
 interest and regard for them. 
 
 Xike most of the aphorisms of the ancients for 
 subtle wisdom, is the saying, " We should reverence 
 the presence of children." Fresh from the creating 
 hand of Deity, they are committed to us. "While 
 yet unstained by the pollutions of the world, should 
 we not render a certain homage to their pristine 
 purity and innocence? Should we not hesitate by 
 exhibitions of such qualities of our nature as are 
 happily still dormant in them, to force them into pre- 
 cocious development? The silent teaching of ex-- 
 ample tells most effectively upon the young for the 
 reason that they are insensibly forming in imitation 
 of the models before them, without the disadvan- 
 tages of previous habit, or of diminished impressi- 
 bility. It is no light sin, then, either in our man- 
 ner towards them, or towards others in their pres- 
 ence, to obtrude a false standard of propriety upon 
 their notice. If manner be, as we have assumed, 
 active manifestation of character, the ductile minds 
 of these nice observers and ceaseless imitators must 
 be indeed seriously under its influences. That care- 
 ful study of individual peculiarities which paternal 
 duty imperatively demands, will readily suggest {\\q 
 proper modification of manner demanded by each 
 different child in a household. It is said that chil- 
 dren are never mistaken judges of character. Certain 
 it is, at least, that they instinctively discern their tru© 
 
102 THE AMERICAN GENTLEMAN'S GUIDE 
 
 friends, and that of the '^Kingdom of Heaven," as by 
 divine assertion they are — the Law of Love, attem- 
 pered in its administration by practical good sense, 
 is the most efi'ective influence that can be brought 
 to bear upon them. Permit me to recall to your 
 remembrance the tenderness that distinguished the 
 manner of Christ tovrards little children. 
 
 Pre-supposirig as I have done, thus far in this letter, 
 and as I shall continue to do, throughout our corre- 
 spondence, that you regard moral obligation as the 
 grand incentive to the correct discipline even of 
 the outer man, arrogating to myself only the office 
 of the lapidary, — that of endeavoring to polish, not 
 create, the priceless jevrel of principle, I shall make 
 no apology for the suggestion, that manner should 
 not be regarded as beneath the attention of a Cliris- 
 tian gentleman, in his intercourse with such inmates 
 of his household as may from any circumstance be 
 peculiarly sensitive to indications of negligent ob- 
 servance. The aged, the infirm, the insignificant^ 
 the dependent y all, in short, who are particularly 
 afflicted " in mind, body, or estate," are suitable reci- 
 pients of the most expressive courtesies of manner. 
 
 Perhaps no single phase of manner at home more 
 correctly illustrates nice mental and moral percep- 
 tions than the treatment of servants and inferiors 
 generally. One may be just to the primary obliga- 
 tions evolved by this relation to others, and yet al- 
 ways receive the service of fear rather than of affec- 
 tion. All needless assumption of authority or supe- 
 riority, in connection with this position, is indicative 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. lOS 
 
 of iulierent vulgarity, and is at as great a remove from 
 a true standard as is undue familiarity. Never to 
 manifest pleasure even by a smile, never to make 
 an acknowledgment in words, of the kindly offices 
 that money cannot adequately reward, may be very 
 grand and stately, but such sublime elevation above 
 one's fellow-creatures raises the heart to rather an 
 Alpine attitude — to a height at which the milJc of 
 JiumanJcindness even, may congeal! 
 
 Always accept voluntary service with the slight 
 acknowledgment that suffices to indicate your con- 
 sciousness of it, nor deem it unworthy of one pil- 
 grim upon the great highway of life to cheer another 
 upon whom the toil and burden falls heaviest, by a 
 smile or a word of encouragement. The language 
 of request is, as a rule, in better taste than that of 
 command, and, in most instances, elicits more ready, 
 as well as cheerful obedience. Scott makes Queen 
 Elizabeth say, on a momentous occasion, " Sussex, I 
 entreat ; Leicester, I command !" " But," adds the 
 author, " the entreaty sounded like a command, and 
 the command was uttered in a tone of entreaty." Can 
 you make only a lesson in elocution out of this ; or 
 will it also illustrate our present theme ? 
 
 F(3W persons who have not had their attention 
 called to this subject, have any just conception of the 
 real benefits that may be conferred upon those 
 beneath us in station by a 'pleasant word uttered in 
 a pleasant tone. Like animals and young children, 
 uneducated persons are peculiarly susceptible to all 
 external influences. They are easily amused, easily 
 
104 
 
 gratified — shall I add, easily satisfied^ mentally ? The 
 comparatively vacant mind readily admits an impres- 
 sion from without ; hence, he who '' whistles for want 
 of thought," will whistle more cheerily for the intro- 
 duction of an agreeable remembrance, into the un- 
 furnished " chambers of imagery," and the humble 
 plodder who relieves us of a portion of the dead 
 weight that oppresses humanity, will go on his way 
 rejoicing ; ofttimes for many a weary mile, im- 
 pelled by a single word of encouragement from 
 his superior officer in the " Grand Army " of life. 
 But I hear you say, " Uncle Hal grows military — 
 * the ruling passion strong ' even in letter- writing. 
 Like the dying Napoleon, his last words will be 
 ' Tete d'Armee ! ' " — ^Well, well, boys ! pardon an old 
 man's diffuseness ! — ^his twilight dullness ! 
 
 There are occasions when to talk to servants and 
 other employes, make part of a humane bearing 
 towards them. To converse with them in relation 
 to their affairs rather than our own, is the wiser 
 course, and to mingle a little appropriate instruction 
 withal, may not be amiss. Eemember, too, how 
 easily undisciplined persons are frightened by an 
 imperious, or otherwise injudicious, manner on the 
 part of their superiors, out of the self-possession essen- 
 tial to their comprehension of our wants and lan- 
 guage. 
 
 I believe even the American author who has long 
 concentrated his mental energies in elaborating th^ 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 105 
 
 literary apotheosis of N'apoUon le Grand^ has not 
 ascribed to his idol excessive refinement of manner. 
 His attempts at playfulness always degenerated into 
 buffoonery, and his habitual bearing towards women, 
 in whatever relation they stood to him, was unmis- 
 takable evidence of his utter want of nicety of per- 
 ception on this point. 
 
 Holding a reception, on one occasion, in a gallery 
 of the Tuileries for his relatives, his mother was 
 present, with others of his family. The emperor 
 proffered his hand to each in turn to kiss. Last of 
 all, his venerable parent approached him. As 
 before, he proffered his hand. With an air worthy 
 of the severe dignity of a matron of early Grecian 
 days, *' Madame Mere " waved it aside, and, extend- 
 ing her own, said, " You are the king, the emperor, 
 of all the rest, but you are my son /" Would a man 
 imbued with 
 
 " The fair humanities of old religion " 
 
 have needed such a rebuke, from such a source, 
 think you?" 
 
 Bonaparte was quite as stringent in his enforce- 
 ment of court rules, in regard to dress and all mat- 
 ters of detail, as Louis XIY. himself, and often quite 
 as absurd as the " Grand Monarque " in his requisi- 
 tions. — Abruptly approaching a high-born lady of the 
 old regime^ one of the members of Josephine's house- 
 hold, who from illness (and, perhaps, disgust com- 
 mingled) had disobeyed an edict commanding full 
 dress at an early hour on a particular morning, 
 
 6* 
 
106 
 
 as she leaned against a window in this same gallery 
 of the Tuileries, the First Consul contemptuously 
 kicked aside lier train, at the same time addressing 
 the wearer in an outburst of coarse vituperation. 
 
 Madame Junot records a characteristic illustration 
 of !N^apoleon's unmanly disregard of the constitutional 
 timidity of his first wife, as well as of his manner 
 towards her in general. 
 
 As they were about to cross a turbulent stream 
 upon an insecure-looking bridge, in a carriage, the 
 Empress expressed a wish to alight. Napoleon forci- 
 bly interfered, but permitted the fair narrator of the 
 incident, who was in the carriage with them, to do so, 
 upon her informing him with the naivete of a true 
 French-woman, that there was a special reason for 
 her avoiding a fright ! Josephine wept in helpless 
 terror, even when the ordeal was safely passed. By- 
 and-by, the whole cortege stopped, and every one 
 alighted ; the imperial tyrant rudely seizing the 
 empress by the arm, dragged her towards the desti- 
 nation of the party, in a neighboring wood, saying, 
 as he urged her forward : " You look ugly when you 
 cryP 
 
 One of Kapoleon's biographers has said of liim 
 that many passages in his letters to Josephine 
 were such as no decent Englishman would ad- 
 dress to his *lady light o' love,' and it is well 
 known that his earliest intercourse with the proud 
 daughter of the House of Hapsburg — the shrinking 
 representative of the hereditary refinement of a 
 long line of high-bred women — was marked by the 
 
TO P0LITENES3 AND FASHION. 107 
 
 merest brutality. It was left to a citizen of our 
 Ilepublic to discover, in the year of our Lord one 
 thousand, eight liundred and fifty-five, that this man 
 was the " Washington of France /" and to commu 
 nicate the marvellous fact to the present occupant 
 of the imperial throne of the Great Captain — who 
 is, by the way, the grandson of the repudiated 
 Josephine ! 
 
 Steaming along the Ohio, some years ago, I had 
 the good-fortune to fall in with the most agreeable 
 companions, a father and son, Kentuckians, of educa- 
 tion and good-breeding. The father had won high 
 public honors in his native State, and the son was just 
 entering upon a career demanding the full exercise 
 of his fine natural gifts. I was particularly attracted 
 by the cordial confidence and affection these gentle- 
 men manifested towards each other, and by the 
 manly deference rendered by the youth to his 
 venerable sire. 
 
 A storm drove us all into the cabin, in the evening, 
 and, while the elder of my two new friends and I 
 pursued a quiet conversation in one part of the room, 
 his son joined a group of young men at some dis- 
 tance from us. Gradually the mirth of those young- 
 sters became so roisterous as to disturb our talk. 
 Hot and hotter waged their sport, loud and louder 
 grew their laughter, until our voices were fairly 
 drowned, at intervals. More than once, I saw the 
 punctilious gentleman of the old school glance to 
 
108 
 
 wards the meny party, of which, by the way, his sou 
 was one of the least boisterous. At length he spoke, 
 and his clear, calm voice rang like a trumpet-note 
 through the aj>artment : 
 
 " Frederick !"— there was an instant lull in the 
 storm, and the faces of each of the group turned to 
 us — " make a little less noise, if you please." 
 
 The youth rose immediately and advanced to- 
 wards us : " Gentlemen," said he, with a heightened 
 color and a respectful bow, " I beg your pardon 1 
 I really was not aware of being so rude." 
 
 I said something about the very natural buoyancy 
 of youthful spirits ; but I did not say that this little 
 scene had the effect upon me that might be produced 
 by unexpectedly me^^ting, in the log-hut of a back- 
 woodsman, with a painting by an old master, repre- 
 senting some fine incident of classical or chivalrous 
 history — as, for instance, the youthful Roman restor- 
 ing tlie beautiful virgin prisoner to her friends with 
 the words, "far be it from Scipio to purchase plea- 
 sure at the expense of virtue I" 
 
 My pleasure in observing the intercourse of these 
 amiable relatives in some degree prepared me for 
 the enjoyment in store for the favored guest, who, 
 at the earnest instance of both father and son, a few 
 days afterwards, turned aside in his journey to seek 
 them, at home. It was a scene worthy the taste 
 and the pen of Washington Irving himself, that 
 quaint-looking old family mansion, — in the internal 
 arrangements of which there was just enough of 
 modern comfort and adornment to typify the soft- 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 109 
 
 ened conservatism of llie host, — and the family 
 group that welcomed the stranger, with almost 
 patriarchal simplicity and hospitality. Really it 
 was a strange episode in busy American life. My 
 venerable friend sat, indeed, " under the shadow of 
 his own vine and fig-tree, with none to make him 
 afraid," reaping the legitimate reward of an honor- 
 able, well-spent life, and beside him the friend who 
 had kept her place through the heat and burden of 
 the day, and now shared the serene repose of the 
 evening of his life. What placid beauty still lin- 
 gered in that matron face, what " dignity and love " 
 marked every action ! And the fair daughters of 
 the house, who, like Desdemona, "ever and anon 
 would come again and gather up our discourse," in 
 the intervals of household duty, or social obligation — 
 they seemed to vie with each other and with their 
 brother in every thoughtful and graceful observance 
 towards their parents and towards me, and the noble 
 boy — for he really was scarcely more, even reck- 
 oned by the estimate of this "fast" age — unspoiled 
 by the dangerous prerogatives of an only son, mani- 
 festly regarded the bright young band of which he 
 Btill made one, with the mingled tenderness and 
 pride that would ever shield them from 
 
 " The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune." 
 
 These all surrounded my venerable host and hostess, 
 as they gently and calmly turned their feet towards 
 the downward path of life, with intertwining hearts 
 
110 THE AMERICAN GENTLEMAN S GUIDE 
 
 and hands — like a garland of roses enwreathing 
 time-worn twin-trees — ever on the watch to lighten 
 each burden they would fain have wholly assumed, 
 and with loving care striving to put far off for them 
 the evil day when the " grasshopper shall be a bur- 
 den." 
 
 But I essay a vain task when I would picture such 
 a scene for you, my friends. If I may hope that I 
 have made a study, from which you will catch a 
 passing snggestion for future use, in the limning of 
 your own life-portraits, it is well. 
 
 Chancellor K , who was my life-long friend, 
 
 retained, even in the latest years of his lengthened 
 life, an almost youthful sprightliness of feeling and 
 manner. His son, himself a learned and distin- 
 guished son of the law, thought no duty more impera- 
 tive, even in the prime of his manhood and in mid 
 career in his honorable j^rofession, than that of devo^ 
 tion to his father, in his declining years. He fixed 
 his residence near, or with, his venerable parent, and, 
 like the son of ancient Priam, long sustained the 
 failing steps of age. Few things have impressed me 
 more favorably, in my intercourse with the world, 
 than this noble self-sacrifice. 
 
 !No one unacquainted with ray vivacious friend 
 can appreciate the full expressiveness of his cha- 
 racteristic remark to me, on an occasion when his 
 son happened to be the theme of conversation 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. HI 
 
 between us. ^^ I like that young man amazingly H 
 Baid the chancellor. 
 
 I still remember the impression made on me, when 
 a boy, by meeting, in the streets of my native city, 
 a stalwart young sailor, arrayed in holiday dress, 
 and walking with his mother, a little, withered old 
 woman, in a decent black dress, hanging upon his 
 arm. How often that powerful form, the imperso- 
 nation of youth, health, and physical activity, has 
 risen up before my mind's eye, in contrast with the 
 little, tremulous figure he supported with such watch- 
 ful care, and upon which such protecting tenderness 
 breathed from every feature of his honest, weather- 
 embrowned face. 
 
 Bob and Charley grew side by side, like two fine 
 young saplings in a wood, for some years. After 
 awhile, however, the brothers were separated. Bob 
 went to a large city, became a merchant, grew rich, 
 lived in a fine house, was a Bank Director, and an 
 Alderman. His younger brother, pursuing a more 
 modest, but equally manly and elevated career, sel- 
 dom met Bob during some years, and then only 
 briefly at their father's house, when there was a 
 family gathering at Thanksgiving, or on some other 
 similar occasion. 
 
 Once, when I chanced to see these young men to» 
 gether, thus, I remarked that, while the sisters of 
 each clung round the neck of the unassuming, but 
 
112 THE AMERICAN GENTLEMAn's GUIDE 
 
 true-hearted, riglit-minded Charley, at his coming, 
 and lost no opportunity of being with hira, the repel- 
 lant manner of the elder brother held all more or less 
 aloof, though none failed in polite observance towards 
 hira. Egotistical and pompous, he seemed to regard 
 those about him as belonging to an inferior race. 
 As his brother and I sat talking together near a table 
 upon which were refreshments, he actually had the 
 rudeness to reach between us for a glass, without the 
 slightest word or token of apology, with his arm so 
 near to his brother's face as almost to touch it I 
 There was more of shame than indignation expressed 
 in that fine, ingenuous countenance when it again 
 met my unobstructed gaze, and I thought I detected 
 a slight tremor in the sentence he uttered next in the 
 order of our conversation. 
 
 Before my visit that day was at an end, I found 
 myself exceedingly embarrassed as an unwilling 
 auditor of a political discussion between Bob and 
 his father, which grew, at length, into an angry 
 dispute, little creditable to, at least, the younger of 
 the two word-combatants. i 
 
 As I stood in the hall that night, awaiting my car- 
 riage, I saw Charley advance to the door of the 
 library, opening near, and knock lightly. The voice 
 of his aged father bade him enter. Opening the 
 door, the young man, taking his hat quite off, and 
 bowing almost reverentially, said only, '* I bid you 
 good night, sir," and quietly closed it again. When 
 they turned towards me, there was almost a woman's 
 softness in eyes that would have looked undimmed 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. Il3 
 
 upon the fiercest foe or the deadliest peril. — ^Think 
 you the Kecording Angel flew up to Heaven's high 
 Chancery with a testimony of that day's deeds and 
 words ? 
 
 Once, after this, Charley had occasion to visit the 
 city where Boh resided. Breakfast over, at his hotel, 
 he sallied forth to call on Bob, at his own house, and 
 attend, subsequently, to other matters. 
 
 He was shown into an elegant drawing-room, 
 where the master of the mansion sat reading a news- 
 paper. Without rising, he offered his hand, coldly, 
 and before inviting his visitor to sit, took occasion to 
 say that his wife's having an engagement to spend 
 the day out of town would prevent his inviting his 
 brother to dine ! 
 
 As Charley descended the steps of his brother's 
 stately mansion, at the termination of his brief call 
 that day, he silently registered a vow never again to 
 cross his threshold, unless impelled by imperative 
 duty. And yet Bob is not only a rich merchant, an 
 Alderman, and a Bank Director, but a man of fashion ! 
 
 One of the most discriminating and truthful deli- 
 neators of life and manners whom we boast among 
 our native authors, prominent among the character- 
 istic traits he ascribes to an old English gentleman, 
 of whom he gives us an exquisite portraiture, is that 
 of such considerate kindness towards an old servant 
 as to make him endure his peevishness and obstinacy 
 
lU 
 
 ,with good humor, and affect to consult and agree 
 with him, until he gains an important practical point 
 with " time-honored age." 
 
 Illustrative of our subject is one of the anecdotes 
 recorded of the poet Eogers, in his recently published 
 life: 
 
 " Mr. Rogers," said the body-servant, who had long 
 attended him in his helpless years, " we are invited 
 to dine with Miss Coutts." The italicizing is mine. 
 Is it not suggestive ? 
 
 You remember the rest of the anecdote ; Rogers 
 had the habit, during the latter years of his life, of 
 writing, when able to use his pen, notes to be dated 
 and directed as occasion required, in this established 
 form " Pity me, I am engaged." So, on this occa- 
 sion, the careful attendant added : " The pity-me^a 
 are all gone !" 
 
 Weather-bound during the long, cold winter of 
 18 — , by a protracted snow-storm and a severe cold, 
 in the house of an old friend, I left my comfortable 
 private quarters one morning for a little walk up and 
 down the corridor into which my own apartment and 
 those of the family opened. 
 
 By and by the active step of my hostess crossed 
 my sauntering way. 
 
 '' Perhaps it may amuse you to come into the nur* 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 115 
 
 seiy, a little while, colonel," said she, " it will be a 
 novelty, at least, to you, to see behind the scenes." 
 
 " I feel myself honored by the permission, I assure 
 you ; the green-room always has an interest for 
 me !" returned I ; and I was soon ensconced in a 
 large, cushioned-chair, in a cozy corner, near the 
 open, old-fashioned "franklin" in which blazed a 
 cheerful wood-fire. The rosy-cheeked juveniles 
 among whom I found myself vied with each other 
 in efforts to promote my comfort. One brought her 
 own little chair, and placed it to support my feet ; 
 another climbed up and stuffed a soft cushion 
 greatly larger than his own rotund, dumpling of a 
 figure, between me and the chair-back, assuring me 
 with a grave shake of the head, in which I saw the 
 future Esculapius, " it is so nice ven your head do 
 ache — mamma say so, ven I put him on her always 1" 
 and bright-eyed little Bessie, between whom and me 
 a very good understanding already existed, crowned 
 the varied hospitalities of my initiatory visit by 
 offering me the use of her tiny muff ! 
 
 My hostess, though she kept an observant eye upon 
 us, from her seat by her work-table over against my 
 arm-chair, had too much tact to interfere with the 
 proceedings of my ministering cherubs ; except to 
 prevent the possibility of my being annoyed. 
 
 When I had leisure to reconnoitre a little, I dis- 
 covered, among the other fixtures in the large, well- 
 lighted, cheerful-looking apartment, an old woman 
 with a good-humored face and portly person, seated 
 
116 
 
 near a window, sewing, with a large, well-stored 
 basket of unmended linen and hosiery before her. 
 
 Presently, the eldest son, a fine manly boy of some 
 sixteen years entered, hat and cane in hand. Used, 
 I suppose, to a jumble of faces and forms, in this 
 human kaleidoscope, he evidently did not observe the 
 quiet figure in the high-backed chair. " Mother," 
 he exclaimed in a tone in which boyish animation 
 and the utmost affection were singularly united, strid- 
 ing across the room, like the Colossus of Rhodes, 
 suddenly endued with powers of locomotion : 
 " Mother, you are the most beautiful and irresistible 
 of your beautiful and irresistible sex !" and stooping, 
 he pressed his full, cherry lips gently upon her 
 rounded cheek. 
 
 A flash of amusement, mingled with the love-light 
 in the soft eyes that met those of the boy. He turned 
 quickly. A scarcely-discernible embarrassment of 
 manner, and a quick flush in the bright young face, 
 were all that I had time to note, before he was at my 
 side with a cordial greeting and a playful welcome 
 to " Mother's Land of Promise." 
 
 " Land of !Nod, say rather," replied the presiding 
 genius of the scene, pointing to the quiescent 
 form of little Bessie, who — her curly head pillowed 
 on her chubby arm — was just losing all consciousness 
 of the world, upon the rug at her mother's feet. 
 
 " George, what an armful I" said the youth, in a 
 sort of half undertone, as he tenderly lifted the little 
 lay figure, and bore it to a crib. " Don't get up, 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHIONi 117 
 
 mother, I can cover her nicely. I say, mammy [an 
 arch glance over his shoulder towards the ancient 
 matron of the sewing-basket], how heavy bread and 
 milk is, though, eh !" 
 
 " Speaking of bread and milk, heie comes lunch," 
 continued my hero for the nonce, rubbing his hands 
 energetically, and only desisting to give a table the 
 dextrous twirl that would bring it near his mother, 
 and assist the labors of the servant who had entered 
 with a tray. 
 
 "Will, you immense fellow, take yourself out 
 of the way I Colonel, permit me to give your 
 sedan-chair j ust the slightest impulse forward, and 
 so save you the trouble of moving. My adorable 
 mother, allow me the honor of being your Gany- 
 mede. Here we are, all right ! Kow, let's see what 
 there is — ham, baked apples, cold roast beef, hot 
 cocoa — ^not so bad, 'pon my word. Colonel, I hope 
 this crispy morning has given you some appetite, 
 after your hard cold — allow me " — 
 
 " Mammy fust," here interposed little Will, autho- 
 ritatively, " cause she older dan us ! " and, care- 
 fully holding the heaped-up plate his mother placed 
 in both hands, he deliberately adventured an over- 
 land journey to the distant object of his affectionate 
 solicitude. 
 
 At this juncture, it was discovered that the servant- 
 man who brought up the tray, had forgotten the 
 sugar, and a young nursery-maid was dispatched for 
 it. Upon her return she contrived, by some awk- 
 wardness in closing the door, to spill the whole result 
 
118 THE AMERICAN GENTLEMAn's GUIDE 
 
 of her mission to the pantry upon the floor. Her arms 
 dropped by her sides, as if suddenly paralyzed, and 
 I noticed a remarkable variety in the shade of her 
 broad Irish physiognomy. 
 
 " There is no great harm done, Biddy," said my 
 hostess, immediately, in a peculiarly quiet, gentle 
 voice, "just step down to John for another bowlful. 
 While poor Biddy is collecting her scattered 
 senses on the stairs, my son, will you kindly assist 
 Willie in picking up the most noticeable lumps ? — put 
 them in this saucer, my dear. She is just learning, 
 you know and — she would not cross that Kubicon as 
 bravely as the classic hero you were reading of last 
 night." 
 
 "While we are so literary, mother — what is it 
 about the dolphin ? If I remember rightly Bid was 
 a pretty good exemplification " 
 
 " Hush ! — I am glad you thought to bring up 
 more apples, Biddy. Colonel, here is the most 
 tempting spitzenberg — so good for a cold, too. Take 
 this to mammy will you, Biddy? The one I sent 
 you before, was not so nice as these, mammy — ^your 
 favorite kind, you know." 
 
 Amused with the new scene in which I foimd 
 myself, I accepted the assurance of the fair home 
 mother^ as the Germans have it, that I was not in 
 the way, and lingered a little longer. 
 
 By and by, John came up to tell his mistress that 
 there was an old man at the door with a basket of 
 little things to sell, and that he had sent a box of 
 sealing-wax for her to look at. 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 119 
 
 " Poo' man ! poo' man ?" said little "Will, running 
 lip to my knee, with such a sorrowful look in his inno- 
 cent face — " an' it so-o-o col'," he added, catching 
 his mother's words, as if by instinct. 
 
 " Take him down the money, John," I overheard, 
 in the intervals between the discourse of my juvenile 
 instructor, " and this cup of chocolate — it will warm 
 him. Ask him to sit by the hall stove, while he 
 drinks it." E'othing was said about the exceedingly 
 portly brace of sandwiches that were manufactured 
 by the busiest of fingers, and which, through the 
 golden veil of Willie's light curls, I saw snugly tucked 
 in, on either side of the saucer. 
 
 "Now, young ladies," continued my amiable 
 friend, addressing a bevy of her rosy-cheeked young 
 nieces, who had just before entered the room, " here 
 is a stick of fancy-colored wax, for each of us — make 
 your own choice. Luckily there is a red stick for 
 Col. Lunettes " (a half deprecatory glance at me), 
 "the only color gentlemen use. And," as she 
 received the box again — " there is some for mammy 
 and me — we are in partnership, you know, mammy !" 
 
 A pleased look from the centre of the wide cap- 
 frills by the window, was the only response to this 
 appeal ; but I had repeatedly observed that, despite 
 her industry, mammy's huge spectacles took careful 
 cognizance of the various proceedings around her. 
 
 As I was about, for very shame, to beat a retreat, 
 a cheery — " good morning, Colonel, I tapped at your 
 door, as I came ap, and thought you were napping 
 it," arrested my intended departure. " So wifie has 
 
120 
 
 coaxed you in here I Just like her ! She thinks 
 she can take the best care of you with" — 
 
 " With the rest of the children I" I interrupted. 
 
 " My lovirig sjpou^'' as Bessie says, when she recites 
 John Gilpin, "may I trouble you to tie my cravat?" 
 And with that important article of attire in his hand, 
 my friend knelt upon a low foot-stool, before his 
 household divinity. 
 
 " Thompson," said I, " I always knew you were one 
 of the luckiest fellows in the whole world ; but may 
 I ask— just as a point of scientific inquiry — whether 
 that office is always performed for you, 
 
 * One fair spirit for your minister ?' 
 
 " Not a bit of it ! ITo indeed, ' pon my word ! 
 only when I go to a dinner, as to-day — or to church, 
 or — I say, Will, you unmitigated rogue, how dare 
 you ! you'll spoil my cravat — dont you see mamma 
 is just tying it !" 
 
 The little fellow thus objurgated, his eyes scintil- 
 lating with mirth, now fairly astride of his father's 
 shoulders, clung tenaciously to his prize, and peti- 
 tioned for a ride in his familiar seat. 
 
 Besorting to stratagem, where force would ill 
 apply, the father, rising with a "thank you, dear 
 witie," retired backward towards a wide bed, and, 
 by a dextrous movement, suddenly landed his 
 youthful captor in a heap in the middle. 
 
 To lose no time, the brave boy, " conquered, but 
 not subdued," made the best use of his lungs, while 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 121 
 
 reducing his arms and legs to order, and Bessie, 
 opening her beaming eyes, at this outcry, stretched 
 out her arms to aid lier pathetic appeal to papa to 
 " p'ay one little hos " with her, " only hut one /" 
 
 Evidently fearful of being out-generalled, the inva- 
 der beat a rapid retreat from the enemy's camp, with 
 the words " thank you, love, I believe the little ras- 
 cal didn't tumble it, though I came within an 
 ace, like a real aldei-man, of dying of a dinner — 
 before it was eaten !" 
 
 After this initiatory visit to the nui'sery of my fair 
 friend, Mrs. Thompson, I was allowed to come and 
 go at my own pleasure, during the remainder of my 
 visit beneath her hospitable roof, and I found myself 
 60 interested and amused by what I witnessed there, 
 sis often to leave the solitude of my own apartment, 
 though surrounded there by every possible " aid and 
 appliance " of comfort and enjoyment that refine- 
 ment and courtesy could supply, to learn the most 
 beautiful lessons of practical wisdom and goodness 
 from the most unpretending of teachers. 
 
 One morning when the habitue had sought his 
 accustomed post of observation, a young lady pre- 
 sented herself at the door, and seeing me, was about 
 to retreat with something about its being very early 
 for a visit, when Mrs. Thompson recalled her with a 
 " Come in, my dear, and let me have the pleasure of 
 presenting you to Colonel Lunettes, the friend of 
 whom you have heard us all speak so often." 
 
 After the usual courtesies, this lovely earth-angel, 
 
 6 
 
122 THE AMERICAN GENTLEMAn'b GUIDE 
 
 with some liesitation, and drawing her chair nearer 
 her friend, explained her errand. 
 
 Making a little screen of a cherub-head, as was 
 my wont, I regaled myself unobserved, with the 
 music of sweet voices and the study of pretty faces. 
 I caught — " my old drawing-teacher " — " her hus- 
 band was a brute in their best days " — " this long, 
 hard winter " — " not even a carpet " — " the poor 
 child on a wooden-bottomed chair, with a little dirty 
 pillow behind her head, and so emaciated !" — ^here 
 there was a very perceptible quiver in the low 
 tones, followed by a little choking sort of pause. 
 
 " I am really grateful to you for coming — ^I have 
 been unusually occupied lately by the baby's illness 
 and other duties — the weather has given me more 
 than one twinge of conscience " — this accompanied 
 by a quiet transfer from one purse to another, and 
 then I heard, as the two ladies bent over the crib of 
 the sleeping infant — " is there a stout boy among 
 the children ? There are the barrels of pork and 
 beef, always ready in the cellar — -each good and 
 wholesome of their kind — husband always has them 
 brought from the farm on purpose to give away ; and 
 we have abundance of fine potatoes — John could 
 not readily find the place, and really, just now, he 
 is pretty busy; still, perhaps, they have the natural 
 pride of better days — ^if you think it well, I will try 
 to send" — the gentle ministers of mercy left the 
 room together, and I heard no more. 
 
 Presently, the youth of whom I have before 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 12lf 
 
 epoken, still at home enjoying his holiday's college 
 vacation, joined me, and, between the exercises of an 
 extertaining gymnastic exhibition, in which he and 
 Willie w^ere the chief performers, regaled me with 
 humorous sketches of college adventures, anecdotes 
 of the professors, etc., in the details of some of which 
 I think he had his quiet old nurse in his mind's eye, 
 as well as his father's guest. 
 
 When Mrs. Thompson resumed her accustomed 
 Beat at her business-table, as it might well be called, 
 my agreeable young entertainer slid away from the 
 group about the fire, and was soon snugged down, in 
 his own lavorite fashion, with his legs comfortably 
 crossed over the top of the chair sustaining mammy's 
 implements, cheek-by-jowl with the venerable genius 
 of the sewing-basket, dipping into a newspaper, and 
 chatting, at intervals, with his humble friend. Once 
 in a while I caught a sentence like this : 
 
 " I say, mammy, you can't begin to think how glad 
 I am you are getting down to my shirts ! Such work 
 as they make washing for a fellow at college ! My 
 black washerwoman (and such a beauty as she is— 
 Buch a little rosebud of a mouth !) pretends to fasten 
 the loose buttons — now, there is a specimen of her 
 peiformances — just look! The real truth is, Mrs. 
 Welch, that mother and you are the only women I 
 know of who can sew on a button worth a pin — just 
 the only two, by George ! Now, there's Pierre de 
 Carradeaux, one of our young fellows down there — 
 his friends all live in Hayti, or some other unknown 
 a-nd uninhabitable region, you know, over the sea-*- 
 
124 
 
 I wisli you could see his clothes ! The way they 
 mend at the tailors ! But the darns in his stockings 
 are the funniest. He rooms with me, and so I hear 
 him talldng to himself, in French. I am afraid he 
 swears, sometimes — but the way he fares is enough 
 to make a saint swear !" And then followed a de- 
 tail that caused mammy to wipe her eyes in sympa- 
 thy with this strange phase of human woe, in alter- 
 nation with an occasional exclamation of amusement 
 — like, " You'll surely be the death of me, Master 
 'Sidney !" apparently forced spasmodically from her 
 lips, despite the self-imposed taciturnity which, 1 
 shrewdly suspected, my presence created. 
 
 " Mother, my revered maternal primative, may I 
 read you this anecdote? Colonel, will you allow 
 me ?" — a respectful glance at the book in my hand. 
 And squeezing himself in from behind, by some 
 utterly inconceivable india-rubber pliancy, between 
 the fire and his much-enduring parent, the tall form 
 of the stripling slowly subsided until I could discern 
 nothing but a mass of wavy black hair reposing 
 amid the soft folds of his mother's morning-gown, 
 and a bit of his newspaper. Thus disposed, appa- 
 rently to the entire satisfaction of all concerned, ho 
 read : 
 
 " Once, while the celebrated John Kemble, the 
 renowned actor and acute critic, was still seated at 
 the dinner-table of an English nobleman, with whom 
 he had been dining, a servant announced that Mrs. 
 Kemble awaited her husband in a carriage at the 
 door Some time elapsed, and the impersonator of 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. Ig5 
 
 Shakspeare's mighty creations remained immovable. 
 At length the servant, re-entering, said • * Mrs. Kem- 
 ble bids me say, sir, that she is afraid of getting the 
 rheumatiz.'^ ' Add ism,^ replied the imperturbable 
 critic of language, and quietly continued his discourse 
 with his host." 
 
 " If I should ever be compelled to marry — which, 
 of course, I never shall unless you disinherit me, 
 mother, or mammy insists upon leaving us to keep 
 house for that handsome widower, in the long snuff 
 overcoat — [though the respectable female thus^ 
 alluded to did not even glance up from her stitching, 
 I plainly marked a little nod of virtuous defiance, 
 and a fluttering in the crimpings of the ample cap- 
 border, that plainly expressed desperation to the 
 hopes of the widower aforesaid] — but if fate should 
 decree my 'attaining knowledge under difficulties,' 
 upon this subject, I hope I'll be a little too decent to 
 keep my wife sitting out doors in a London fog (I 
 shall make a bridal tour to Europe, of course), while 
 I am imbibing, even with a ' nobleman.' Speaking 
 of the tyranny of fate, I am, most reluctantly, com- 
 pelled to deprive you of my refreshing conversation, 
 my dear and excellent mother. If my dilapidated 
 linen is restored to its virgin integrity: in other 
 words, if my shirt is done, I propose retiring to the 
 deepest shades of private life, and getting myself up, 
 without the slightest consideration for the financial 
 affairs of my honored masculine progenitor, for a 
 morning call upon , the fortunate youthfu) 
 
126 
 
 beauty I, at present, honor with my particular ado- 
 ration." So saying, Sir Hopeful slowly emerged 
 from his ' loop-hole of retreat,' and making a pro- 
 found obeisance to his guardian spirit, and another 
 to me, a shade less lowly, he took himself off, with 
 his linen over his arm, and a grand parting flourish at 
 the door, with his hat upon his walking-stick, for the 
 especial benefit of his little brother, which elicited 
 a shout of unmingled admiration from the juvenile 
 spectators that need not have been despised by Herr 
 Alexander himself. 
 
 During dinner that day, as the varied and most 
 bountiful course of pastry, etc., was about to be 
 removed, young Sidney said : 
 
 " Mother, allow me to relieve you of the largest 
 half of that solitary-looking piece of mince-pie. I 
 am sorry I cannot afford to take the whole of it 
 under my protecting care." 
 
 "My dear son," replied my hostess, pleasantly, 
 "let me suggest the attractions of variety. You 
 have already done your devoir to this pie. Your 
 father pronounces the cocoanut excellent" — and 
 then, as if in reply to the look of surprise that met 
 her good-humored sally, she added, in a tone meant 
 only for the ears of the youth, " this happens to be 
 the last, and mammy eats no other, you remember." 
 
 " [fro great matter, either ; to-morrow will be bak- 
 ing-day. Now I know why you took none yourself, 
 mother," answered Sidney, cheerfully, in the same 
 '' aside" manner ; and the placid smile on the hospi- 
 
ro POLITENESS AND FASHION. 127 
 
 table face of tlie ' liome-mother ' alone acknow- 
 ledged her recognition of the ascription of self-denial 
 to her; for it is not occasionally, but always, that 
 
 " In the clear heaven of her delightful eye, 
 An angel guard of loves and graces lie." 
 
 Adieu I 
 
 UiTOLE Hal. 
 
128 
 
 LETTEK V. 
 
 MAira^EE — PRACTICAL DIRECTIONS. 
 
 Mt dear Nephews: 
 
 Though good breeding is always and 
 everywhere essentially the same, there are phases of 
 daily life, especially demanding its exhibition. 
 Manner in the street is one of these. 
 
 Even in hours most exclusively devoted to busi- 
 ness, do not allow yourself to hurry along with a 
 clouded, absent face and bent head, as if you forever 
 felt the foot of the earth-god on your neck ! Carry 
 an erect and open brow into the very midst of the 
 heat and burden of the day. Take time to see your 
 friends, as they cross you in the busy thoroughfares 
 of life and. at least by a passing smile or a gesture 
 of recognition, give token that you are not resolved 
 into a mere money-making machine, and both will 
 be better for this fleeting manifestation of the inner 
 being. 
 
 During business hours and in crowded business- 
 streets no man should ever stop another, whom he 
 knows to be necessarily constantly occupied at such 
 times, except upon a matter of urgent need, and then 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 12^ 
 
 if he alone is to be benefited by the detention, he 
 should briefly apologize and state his errand in as 
 few words as possible. 
 
 But the habit of a cheerful tone of voice, a cor- 
 dial smile, and friendly grasp of the hand, when 
 meeting those with whom one is associated in social 
 life, is not to be regarded as unimportant. 
 
 If you do not intend to stop, when meeting a gen- 
 tleman friend, recognize him as you approach, by 
 a smile, and touching your hat salute him audibly 
 with — "Good morning, sir," or "I hope you are well, 
 sir," or (more familiarly), " Ah, Charley ! — good 
 morning to you." But don't say, " How d' ye do, 
 sir," when you cannot expect to learn, nor call back 
 as you pass, something that will cause him to linger^ 
 uncertain what you say. 
 
 If you wish to stop a moment, especially in a 
 thoroupjhfare, retain the hand you take, while you re- 
 tire a little out of the human current ; and never fall 
 into the absurdity of attempting to draw a tight or 
 moistened glove while another waits the slow process 
 It is better to offer the gloved hand as a rule, without 
 apology, in the street. 
 
 If you are compelled to detain a friend, when he 
 is walking with a stranger, briefly but politely 
 apologize to the stranger, and keep no one " in dur- 
 ance vile " longer than absolute necessity requires. 
 When thus circumstanced yourself, respond cheer- 
 fully and courteously to the apologetic phrase offered, 
 and, drawing a little aside, occupy yourself with any- 
 thing beside the private conversation that interrupts 
 
 6* 
 
130 THE AMERICAN GENTLEMAn's GUIDE 
 
 your walk. Sometimes circumstances render it 
 decorous to pass on with some courteous phrase, to 
 step into some neighboring bookseller's, etc., or to 
 make a rapid appointment for a re-union. Cultivate 
 the quick discernment, the ready tact, that will en- 
 gender ease of manner under those and similar cir- 
 cumstances requiring prompt action. 
 
 I^ever leave a friend suddenly in the street, either 
 to join another, or for any other reason, without an 
 apology ; the briefest phrase, expressed in a cordial 
 tone^ will suffice, in an emergency. 
 
 Upon passing servants, or other inferiors in station, 
 whom you wish to recognize, in the street, it is a good 
 practice, without bowing or touching the hat, to salute 
 them in a kindly voice. 
 
 When you meet a gentleman whom you know, 
 walking with one or more ladies, with whom you are 
 not acquainted, bow with grave respect to them also. 
 
 Politeness requires that upon meeting ladies and 
 gentlemen together, with both of whom one is ac- 
 quainted, that one should lift the hat as he approaches 
 them, and bowing first to the ladies, include the gen- 
 tleman in a sweeping motion, or a succeeding bow, 
 as the case permits. Should you stop, speak first to 
 the lady, but do not offer to shake hands with a 
 lady in full morning costume, should your glove 
 be dark-colored or your hand uncovered. Again lift 
 your hat to each, in succession of age or rank, as a 
 substitute for this dubious civility, with some play- 
 ful expression, as " I am sorry my glove is not quite 
 fresh, Mrs. , but you need no assurance of my 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FA8HI0N. 131 
 
 being always the most devoted of your friends " or 
 " admirers," or " Keally, Miss ■ , you are so beau- 
 tifully dressed, and looking so cliarmingly, that I 
 dare not venture too near !" And as you part, again 
 take your hat quite off, letting the party pass you^ 
 and on the wall side of the street, if that be practic- 
 able. 
 
 In the street with other men, carefully give that 
 precedence to superior age or station which is so 
 becoming in the young, by taking the outer side of 
 the pavement, or that nearer the counter current, 
 as circumstances may make most polite. When you 
 give, or have an arm, carefully avoid all erratic move- 
 ments, and Jceep step^ like a well-trained soldier ! 
 
 Towards ladies^ in the streets, the most punctilious 
 observance of politeness is due. Walking with them, 
 one should, of course, assume the relative position 
 best adapted to protect them from inconvenience or 
 danger, and carefully note and relieve them from the 
 approach of either. In attending them into a store, 
 &c., always give them precedence, holding the door 
 open from without, if practicable. If compelled to 
 pass before them, to attend to this courtesy, say, 
 " allow me," or " with your permission," etc. Meet 
 ing ladies, the hat should })e taken off as you bow, 
 and replaced w^hen you have passed, or, if you 
 pause to address them, politely raised again as you 
 quit them. 
 
 When you are stopped by a lady friend in the 
 street, at once place yourself so as best to shield 
 her from the throng, if you are in a crowd, or fronj 
 
132 THE AMERICAN GENTLEMAN 8 GDIDB 
 
 passing vehicles, etc., and never by your manner in- 
 dicate either surprise or embarrassment upon such an 
 occasion. Allow Ker to terminate the inteiview, 
 and raise your hat quite off as you take leave oi her. 
 
 When a stranger lady addresses an inquiry to you 
 in the street, or when you restore something she 
 has inadvertently dropped, touch your hat ceremo- 
 niously, and with some phrase or accent of respect, 
 add grace to a civility. 
 
 If you have occasion to speak more than a word 
 or two to a lady whom you may meet in walking, 
 turn and acccompany her while you say what you 
 wish, and, taking off your hat, when you withdraw, 
 express your regret at losing the further enjoyment 
 of her society, or the like. 
 
 If you wish to join a lady whom you see before you, 
 be careful in hurrying forward not to incommode her 
 (or others, indeed), and do not speak so huniedly, 
 or loudly, as to startle her, or arrest attention, and 
 should you have only a slight acquaintance with her, 
 say, as you assume a position at her side, " With 
 your permission, madam, I will attend you," or 
 " Give me leave to join your walk, Miss " etc. 
 
 Of course, no well-bred man ever risks the possi- 
 bility of intrusion in., this way, or ever speaks first 
 to a lady to whom he has only had a passing intro- 
 duction. In the latter case, you look at a lady as 
 you advance towards her, and await her recognition. 
 
 Speaking of an intrusion, you should be well as- 
 sured that you will not make an awkward third hQ* 
 fore you venture to attach vourself to a lady and 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 133 
 
 gentleman walking together, though you may even 
 know them very well ; and the same rule holds good 
 in a picture-gallery, rococo-shop, or elsewhere, when 
 two persons, or a party, sit or walk together. 
 
 Every man is bound by the laws of courtesy, to note 
 any street accident that imperils ladies, and at once 
 to hasten to render such service as the occasion re- 
 quires. Promptitude and self-possession may do good 
 service to humanity and the fiiir, at such a juncture. 
 
 Should you observe ladies whom you know, unat- 
 tended by a gentleman, alighting from or entering a 
 carriage, especially if there is no footman, and the 
 driver maintains his seat, at once advance, hold the 
 door open, and offer your hand, or protect a dress 
 from the wheel, or the like, and bowing, pass on, all 
 needed service rendered ; or, if more familiarity and 
 your own wish sanction it, accompany them where 
 they may chance to be entering. 
 
 'No general rule can be laid down respecting offer- 
 ing the arm to ladies in the street. Where persons 
 are known and reside habitually, local custom will 
 usually be the best guide. At night, the arm should 
 always be tendered, and so in ascending the multi- 
 plied steps of a public building, etc., for equally 
 obvious reasons. For similar cause, you go before 
 ladies into church, into a crowded concert-room, etc., 
 wherever, in short, they are best aided in securing 
 seats, and escaping jostling, by this precedence of 
 them. When attending a stranger lady, in visiting the 
 noted places of your own city, or the like, and when 
 one of a party for a long walk, or of travellers, it may 
 
134 
 
 often be an imperative civility to proffer the ana, 
 To relatives, or elderly ladies, this is always a proper 
 courtesy, as it is to every woman, when you can thus 
 most effectually secure her safety or her comfort. 
 
 Do not forget, when walking with elderly people, 
 or ladies, to moderate the headlong speed of your 
 usual step. 
 
 I will here enter my most emphatic protest against 
 a practice of which ladies so justly complain, — 
 the too-frequent rudeness of men in stationing them- 
 selves at the entrance of churches, concert-rooms, 
 opera houses, etc., for the express purpose, appa- 
 rently, of staring every modest woman who may 
 chance to enter, out of countenance. 'No one pos- 
 sessed of true good-breeding will indulge in a 
 practice so at variance with propriety. If occasion 
 demands your thus remaining stationary upon the 
 steps or in the portico of a public edifice, make 
 room, at once, for ladies who may be enteiing, and 
 avoid any appearance of curiosity regarding them. 
 A similar course is suitable when occupying a place 
 upon the steps, or at the windows of a pump-room 
 at a watering-place, or of a hotel. Carefully avoid 
 all semblance of staring at ladies passing in the 
 street, alighting from a carriage, etc., and make no 
 comment, even of a complimentary nature, in a voice 
 that can possibly reach their ears. So, when walk- 
 ing in the street, if beauty or grace attract your 
 attention, let your regard be respectful, and, even 
 then, not too fixed. An audible comment or excla* 
 mation, addressed to a companion, a laugh, a fami- 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 135 
 
 liar stare, are each and all, when any stranger, and 
 more especially a woman^ is the subject of them, 
 unhandsome in the extreme. 
 
 Breakfasting one morning, at West Point, with au 
 agreeable Portuguese, we chatted for some time over 
 the newspapers and our coffee, as we sat within view 
 of one of the most beautiful landscapes it has ever 
 been my fortune to behold. At length our un- 
 American indulgence in this respect, became the 
 theme of conversation between us. 
 
 "JPardon me," said the elegant foreigner, "but 
 though the Americans are very kind — a very 
 pleasant people, they do not take enough of time for 
 these things, at all. Tliey do not only eat in a 
 hurry, but they even fass their friends in the street, 
 sometimes, without sjpedking to them ! I remember 
 last winter, in Pliiladelphia, where I was some 
 months, I met one day, in Chestnut street, a gentle- 
 man whom I knew very well, and he passed me 
 without speaking. I made up my mind at once, 
 that this shall not happen again, so the next time 
 I saw him coming, I looked into a shop window, 
 or at something, and did not see him. He came to 
 
 me and said — ''Good morning, Mr. A ! what 
 
 is the matter with you, that you do not speak to 
 me ?" or something like that. I answered, that he 
 had cui me in the street (I think that is what you 
 call it !) two or three days before, and that I never 
 will permit myself to be treated in this manner. 
 
136 THE AMERICAN GENTLEMAn's GUIDE 
 
 Then he said, that I must excuse him, that he must 
 have been in business and did not see me, and so 
 on. But this is not the way of a gentleman in my 
 country !" 
 
 You must imagine for yourselves the double effect, 
 lent to the words of my companion by his foreign 
 action and imperfect pronunciation, and the slight 
 curl of his dark moustache as he emphasized tho 
 words I have underscored. 
 
 "What a harum-scarum fellow that James Con- 
 don is !*' exclaimed a young lady, in my hearing. 
 '* I had reason to repent declining to drive to the 
 concert last night, I assure you ! The moon, upon 
 which I had counted, was obscured, and he not only 
 hurried me along (though we had plenty of time, 
 as I was quite ready when he came), at breathless 
 speed, but actually dragged me over a heap of 
 rubbish, in crossing the street, upon which I nearly 
 tumbled down, though I had his arm. "When we 
 reached the place, I was so heated and flurried that 
 I could not half enjoy the music, and this morning 
 I hnd not only that m}^ handsome new boots are 
 completely spoiled, but that I have any quantity of 
 lime upon the bottom of the dress I wore, and my 
 pretty fan, which he must needs insist upon carry- 
 ing for me, sadly broken !" 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 137 
 
 " 1 have seen everytliing and everybody I wish, 
 in London, except the Duke of Wellington," said 
 a sprightly kidy whose early morning walk past 
 Apsley House — the town residence of the Iron 
 Duke — I was attending some years since, " every 
 distinguished man, except the Hero of "Waterloo. 
 I liope I shall not lose that pleasure !" 
 
 "You may have that pleasure now, madam!" 
 exclaimed a gentleman, passing us and rapidly walk- 
 ing forward, in whose erect figure and very narrow 
 brimmed hat, I at once recognized the object of my 
 companion's hitherto unsatisfied curiosity. 
 
 Strolling in Kensington Park, during that same 
 morning, and at an hour too unfashionably early for 
 a crowd, with my fair charge, I drew her gently aside, 
 as she leaned on my arm, from some slight obstruction 
 in our path, which she did not observe, and which 
 might otherwise have incommoded her. 
 
 " Eeally Colonel Lunettes," said she, " your watch- 
 ful politeness reminds me of my dear father's. You 
 gentlemen oi the old school so much surpass modern 
 beaux in courtesy ! I well remember the last walk 
 I had in Broadway with papa, before we sailed. 
 
 Mrs. W and I were making a morning visit, 
 
 quite up town for us Brooklynites — ^in Union Place, 
 upon a bride, when who should also arrive but papa. 
 When we took leave, he accompanied us, and finding 
 thaf we had taken a fancy to walk all the way to the 
 ferry, insisted u[)on going with us — only think, 
 at his age, and so luxurious in his habits, too! -As 
 
138 THE AMERICAN GENTLEMAN*S GUIDE 
 
 he is a little hard of hearing, and likes always to 
 
 talk with Mrs. W , who is a great favorite of 
 
 his, I insisted upon his walking between us — that I 
 might have his arm, and yet not interfere with his con- 
 versation. This, of course, brought me on the outside. 
 But I cannot describe to you the watchful care he 
 had for me, all the way. At the slightest crowding 
 he held me so firmly — saw every swerve of the 
 vehicles towards us, and would hold my dress away 
 from every rough box or so, that lumbered the 
 sidewalk, and every now and then he would say — 
 ' Minnie, wouldn't you be more comfortable on my 
 other arm ? I am afraid you will be hurt there !' At 
 the Brooklyn ferry he was to leave us, as he could 
 not go over to dine that day. Seeing a crowd at 
 the door of the office, he hastened a little before us 
 to pay the fare, and then saw us safely through the 
 press, taking leave of me as politely as of Mrs. 
 
 W . ' What an elegant gentleman your father 
 
 is !' cried out Mrs. W , as soon as he was gone, 
 
 ' he always reminds me of the descriptions we read 
 of the chivalrous courtesy of knights of olden time ; 
 it is like listening to a heroic ballad to be with 
 him, and receive his politeness.* I know you won't 
 laugh at me. Colonel, when I say that the memory 
 of that simple incident is still as fresh in my heart, 
 as though no ocean voyage and long travel had 
 come between; and I can truly say that I was 
 prouder of my cavalier attendant that day, thjtn 1 
 ever was of all the young men together, who ever 
 walked Broadway, with me." The tremulous tones, 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 139 
 
 the glistening eyes, and the glowing cheeks of the 
 the fair young speaker attested the truth of her 
 filial boast, and I — but you must draw your own 
 morals!" 
 
 Presently we resumed our chat, and the theme of 
 the moment together. 
 
 '^I well recollect," said my companion, in the 
 course of our discussion, " the impression produced 
 upon me, in my girlhood, by the manners of a young 
 gentleman, who was my groomsman at the wedding 
 of a young friend. Some of the lessons of good 
 breeding taught me by his example, I shall never 
 forget, I think. I was the most bashful creature in 
 the world at that time, and he quite won my heart 
 by the politeness with which he set me at ease, at 
 once, when he came to take me away in a carriage 
 to join my young friends. But that was not the 
 point : the next morning after the wedding, we were 
 all to attend the 'happy pair' as far as Saratoga, on 
 their wedding-tour; that is, the bridesmaids and 
 bridesmen. At Schenectady, we were put into an 
 old-fashioned car, divided into compartments. Just 
 as we were about to start, a singularly tall, gaunt, 
 Yankeefied-looking elderly w^oman scrambled into 
 our little box of a place, and seated herself. "We 
 were fairly ofi", before she seemed fully to realize the 
 trials of her new position. She did not say, in the 
 language of the popular song, 
 
 * I think there must be danger 
 'Mong so many sparks I' 
 
140 THE AMERICAN GENTLEMAN 's GUIDE 
 
 but she looked as though she feared having fallen 
 among the Philistines ; and, I am ashamed to say 
 that some of our merry party made no scruple of pri- 
 vately amusing themselves with her peculiarities of 
 dress and manner. Mr. Henry, however (my grooms 
 man), addressed some polite remarks to her, in so grave 
 and respectful a manner as soon to convince her of his 
 sincerity, and as carefully watched the sparks that 
 fell upon her thick worsted gown, as those that an- 
 noyed the rest of us. At the fii*st stopping-place, you 
 may be very sure that the unwilling intruder was in 
 haste to change her seat. 
 
 " 'Do you wish to get out, madam !' inquired Mr, 
 Henry ; ' allow me to help you ;' and bounding out, 
 he assisted her down the high step, as carefully and 
 respectfully as though she were some high dame of 
 rank and fashion. I am afraid that, though I did 
 not actually join in the merriment of my thoughtless 
 friends, I deserved the sting of conscience that served 
 to fasten this little incident so firmly in my remem- 
 brance. Perhaps I was, for this reason, the more 
 impressed by another proof of the ever-ready polite- 
 ness of this gentleman, who made such an impression 
 upon my girlish fancy. We dined at Ballston, on 
 our way to Saratoga, and after dinner, I asked Mr. 
 Henry, with whom, in spite of my first awe of his 
 superiority of years and polish, I began to feel quite 
 at ease, to run down with me to one of the Springs, 
 for a glass of w^ater, before we should resume our 
 journey. So he good-naturedly left the gentlemen 
 (now I know that he may have wished to smoke) 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 141 
 
 together at the table, and accompanied me. But 
 now for my denoument. Just as we were in a nar- 
 row place, between a high, steep bank and the track, 
 the cars came rushing towards us. In an instant, 
 quicker than thought, Mr. Henry had transferred me 
 from the arm next the cars — because more removed 
 from the edge of the bank — to the other arm, thus 
 placing his person between me and any passing dan- 
 ger, and with such a quiet, re-assuring manner ! You 
 smile. Colonel — but, really — well, you see what an 
 impression it made upon my youthful sensibilities 1" 
 
 " Oh, girls, such a charming adventure as I had 
 •this evening!" exclaimed Margaret, as a bevy of fair 
 young creatures clustered together before the fire in 
 a drawing-room where I was seated after dinner, with 
 my newspaper. My attention was arrested by the 
 peculiar animation with which these words were pro- 
 nounced, and I glanced at the group, over the top of 
 my spectacles. They reminded me of so many bril- 
 liant-hued butterflies, in their bright-colored winter 
 dresses, and with their light, wavy motions as they 
 settled themselves, one on a pile of cushions, others 
 on a low ottoman, and two pretty fairies on the 
 hearth-rug, each uttering some exclamation of grati- 
 fication at the prospect of amusement. 
 
 " Now, don't expect anything extraordinary or 
 dreadful, you silly creatures ; I have no 'hair-breadth 
 'scapes by land or sea ' to entertain you with. Can't 
 
142 
 
 one have a ^ charming adventure,' and yet have no- 
 thing to tell ?" 
 
 " But do tell us all there is to tell, dear Miss . 
 
 Do, please, this very momentj." entreated one of the 
 fairies, linking her arms around her companion, and 
 mingling her golden ringlets with the darker locks of 
 the head upon which her own lovingly rested. And 
 a little concert of similar pleadings followed. This 
 prelude over, the tantalizing adventuress began : 
 
 " Before I went over to 'New York this morning, 
 I wrote a little note to Mary Bostwick, telling her all 
 about our arrangements for the Christmas-tree, and 
 charging her not to fail to come to us on Christmas 
 eve, and all about it, for fear that, as I had so much 
 to accomplish, I might not be able to go up to 
 Twenty-third street, and return home in time to meet 
 you all here. My plan was to keep it until I was 
 decided, and then, if obliged to send it, to put it in 
 one of the City Express letter-boxes. Well, by the 
 time I was through with all my important errands, 
 it was time for me to turn my steps homeward. So, 
 happening last at Tiffany's, to get the — I mean, I 
 asked at Tiffany's for one of the places where a box 
 is kept in that neighborhood, and was told that 
 there was one in a druggist's, quite near — just above. 
 Hurrying along, I must have passed the place, and 
 stopped somewhere not far below * Taylor's,' to see 
 exactly where I was. Time was flying, and it was 
 really almost growing dark ; so I ventured to inquire 
 of a gentleman who was passing, though an entire 
 stranger, for the druggist's. 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 143 
 
 " I think it is below, near the Astor House," said 
 he, with such an appearance of interest as to em- 
 bolden me to mention what I was in search of. 
 
 " If that is all," he replied, " I dare say there is 
 one nearer. Let me see," glancing around, " I think 
 there is one on the opposite corner — I will see." 
 
 " I have no right to give you that trouble, sir," 
 said I. 
 
 " Yes you have — it is what every man owes to 
 your sex." 
 
 "You are very good, sir; but I am sure I can 
 make the inquiry for myself." 
 
 " 1^0, it is a tavern, where you cannot properly 
 go alone ! Remain here, and I will ascertain for 
 
 you." 
 
 Before I could repeat my thanks, the gentleman 
 was half across the street. 
 
 Hoping to facilitate matters, I followed him to 
 the opposite pavement, and stood where he would 
 observe me upon coming out of the door I h-ad seen 
 him enter. I held the note and my porte-monnaie 
 ready in my hand. 
 
 "There is a box here," said my kind friend, 
 returning, " if you will intrust me with your letter, 
 I will deposit it for you." 
 
 " You are very good, sir ; I would like to pay it," 
 I answered, opening my porte-monnaie. 
 
 He took the letter quickly, and prevented my 
 intended offer of the postage so decidedly, that I did 
 not dare insist. But, by this time, I really could not 
 
lU 
 
 refrain from the expression of more than an ordinary 
 acknowledgment : 
 
 " I have to thank jou, sir," said I, " not only for 
 a real kindness to a stranger, but for a pleasant 
 memory, which I shall not soon lose. Such courtesy 
 is too unusual to be soon forgotten J ' How far one 
 little candle sometimes throws its rays!' — many 
 thanks and good evening, sir !" 
 
 I had still one more errand in Canal street, but I 
 stayed on the " unfashionable side " of the street, and 
 went up, to avoid the awkwardness of re-crossing 
 with the gentleman, and the possibility of imposing 
 any further tax upon his politeness — bless him ! I 
 wasn't half as weary after I met him, and my heart 
 has been in a glow ever since ! 
 
 " Bravo !" " Bravissimo !" echoed round the 
 room, in various weaves of silvery sound. 
 
 " Is that all. Miss —^ — ?" inquired the only hoy of 
 the party, unless you except the approach to second 
 childhood ensconced behind the newspaper, and 
 now acting the amiable part of reporter, for your 
 benefit. 
 
 " All, unless I add that I occasionally glanced cau- 
 tiously over, to catch the form of my kind friend, as I 
 hurried along, that I might not again cross his path ; 
 but I did not ' calculate ' successfully after all ; for, 
 as I ran across Broadway, at Canal street corner, he 
 was a little nearer than I had expected. I bowed 
 slightly, and hurried on: — but wasn't it beautiful? 
 Such chivalrous sentiments towards women : ^ It is 
 what we all owe your sex /' And his manner was 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 145 
 
 more expressive than his words — so gentle and quiet! 
 Ko stage effect"' — 
 
 " But you quoted Shakespeare," insinuated a 
 pretty piece of malice on the ottoman. 
 
 " I couldn't lielp it, if I did ! I was surprised out 
 of the use of ordinary language by an extraordinary 
 occasion. If you are going to ridicule me, I shall 
 be sorry I told you ; for it is one of the pleasantest 
 things that has happened to me in a great while I 
 There was I, in my inGognito-dress^ as I call it, weary 
 and pale, nothing about me to attract interest, I am 
 sure ! I wish such men were more common in this 
 world, they would elevate the race !" 
 
 " I declare, cousin Maggie, you are growing enthu- 
 siastic ! I haven't seen such beaming eyes and such 
 a brilliant color for a long time ! Was this most 
 gallant knight of yours a young gentleman, may 
 I ask?" 
 
 The lady thus questioned seemed to reflect a 
 moment before she replied : 
 
 " If you mean to inquire whether he was a whis- 
 kered, moustached elegant^ not a bit of it! I 
 should not have addressed such a man in the street. 
 On the contrary, he was " 
 
 u ]\farried, I am afraid I" interrupted pretty mis- 
 chief on the ottoman, giggling behind her next 
 neighbor. 
 
 " I dare say he may have been," pursued the nar- 
 rator, quietly. " No very young man, even if he had 
 wished to be polite to a stranger neither young nor 
 beautiful, which is very doubtful, would have exhi- 
 
 6 
 
146 
 
 bited tlie graceful self-possession and easy politeness 
 of tliis gentleman : — he was, probably, going to his 
 home in the upper part of the city after a business- 
 day. As I remember his dress, though, of course, 
 I had no thought about it at the time, it was the 
 simple, unnoticeable attire of an American gentleman 
 when engaged in business occupations — everything 
 about him, as I recall his presence, was in keeping — 
 unostentatious, quiet, appropriate ! I shall long 
 preserve his portrait in my picture-gallery of me- 
 mory, and I am proud to believe that he is my own 
 countryman !" 
 
 " Cousin Maggie always says," remarked one of 
 her auditors, " that Americans are the most truly 
 polite men she has met " 
 
 " Yes," returned the enthusiast, " though some- 
 times wanting in mere surface-polish — 
 
 'Where'er I roam, whatever lands I see, 
 My heart, untravelled, fondly turns to * 
 
 my own dear, honored countrymen — more truly chi- 
 valrous, more truly just towards our sex, than the 
 men of any other land I I never yet appealed to 
 one of them for aid, for courtesy, as a woman^ and 
 as a woman should^ in vain. And I never, scarcely, 
 am so placed as to have occasion for kindness — real 
 kindness — without receiving it, unasked. The other 
 day, for instance, caught in a sudden shower, I stood 
 waiting for a stage, * down town,' in Broadway. 
 There was such a jam that I was afraid to try and 
 get into one that stopped quite near the sidewalk. 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASUION. lit 
 
 A policeman, at that moment, asked me whether 1 
 wished to get in, and, holding mj arm, stepped over 
 the curb with me. ' I don't know what the ladies 
 would do without the aid of your corps, sometimes, 
 in these crowds,' said I. 
 
 " ' If the ladies will accept our services, we are 
 proud, madam,' answered he. 
 
 " ' I am very glad to do so,' returned I ; and well 
 I might, for, at that instant, as I was on the point of 
 setting my foot on the step of the omnibus, the horse 
 attached to a cart next behind suddenly started for- 
 ward, and left no space between his head and the 
 door of the stage. I shrunk back, as you may ima- 
 gine, and said I would walk, in spite of the rain. 
 But the policeman encouraged me, and called out to 
 the carman to fall back. At that instant, I observed 
 a gentleman come out upon the step of the stage. 
 With a single imperious gesture, and the sternest 
 face, he drove back the horse, and springing into 
 the omnibus, held the door open with one hand, and 
 extended the other to me. To be sure, the police- 
 man almost pinched my arm in two, in his effort to 
 keep me safe, but I was, at last, seated with whole* 
 bones and a grateful heart, at the side of my brave, 
 kind champion. As soon as I recovered breath, I 
 was curious to see again the face whose expression 
 had arrested my attention (of course, I did not wait 
 for breath to thanh him), and to note the external 
 characteristics of a man who would impulsively ren- 
 der such service to a woman — ^like Charles Lamb — 
 (dear, gentle Charles Lamb !) holding his umbrella 
 
1*1 
 
 over the head of a washerwoman, because she was a 
 woman! Well, my friend was looking straight be* 
 fore him, apparently wholly unconscious of the exist- 
 ence of the trembling being he had so humanely 
 befriended, with the most impenetrable face imagin- 
 able, and a sort of abstracted manner. Presently I 
 desired to open the window behind me — still not 
 quite recovered from my fright and flutter. Almost 
 before my hand was on the glass, my courteous 
 neighbor relieved me of my task. Again I rendered 
 cordial thanks, and again, as soon as delicacy per- 
 mitted, glanced furtively at the face beside me. 
 ISTothing to reward my scrutiny was there revealed ; 
 the same absorbed, fixed expression, the same seem- 
 ing unconsciousness! But can you doubt that a 
 noble, manly nature was veiled beneath that calm 
 face and quiet manner — a nature that would gleam 
 out in an instant, should humanity prompt, or 
 wrong excite? And I could tell you numberless 
 such anecdotes — all illustrative of my favorite 
 theory." 
 
 " So could we all," said another lady, " I have no 
 doubt, if we only remembered them." 
 
 " I never forget anything of that kind," returned 
 Margaret. "It is to me like a strain of fine music, 
 dcted poetry^ if I may use such a phrase. Such in- 
 cidents make, for me, ih^ poetry of real life^ indeed I 
 They inspire in my heart, 
 
 * The still, swet miisic of humanity.* " 
 
TO POLITENESB AND FASHION. l40 
 
 One magnificent moonlight night, while I was in 
 
 Home with your cousins and the W s, a party 
 
 was formed to visit the Coliseum. That whimsical 
 creature, Grace, whom I had more than once detected 
 in a disposition to fall behind the rest of the company, 
 as we strolled slowly through the ruins, at length 
 stole up to me, as I paused a little apart from the 
 group, and twining her arm within mine, whispered 
 softly : 
 
 " Do, dear Uncle Hal, come this way with me for 
 a few moments !" 
 
 Yielding to the impulse she gave me, we were 
 presently disengaged from our companions, and, 
 leaning, as if by mutual agreement, against a pillar. 
 
 " What a luxury it is to be quiet !" exclaimed your 
 cousin, with a sigh of relief. " How that little Miss 
 3 — _ (^es chatter! Eeally it is profanation to 
 think or speak of common things to-night, ^nd here I'^ 
 
 " Well, my fair Epicurean," returned I, " since 
 
 ' Silence, like a poultice comes 
 
 To heal the blows of sound,' 
 
 you shall reward me for my indulgence in attending 
 you, by repeating some of Byron's a^qpos lines, 
 for me as we stand here " — 
 
 " At your pleasure, dear uncle." 
 
 Presently she began, in a subdued tone, as if afraid 
 of disturbing the dreams of another, or as if hali 
 listening while she spoke to the tread of those 
 
150 THE AMERICAN GENTLEMAN S GUIDB 
 
 * Whose distant footsteps echo 
 Through the corridors of Time ;' 
 
 but gradually losing all consciousness, save that of 
 the inspiration of the bard, our fair enthusiast reached 
 a climax of eloquence with the words — 
 
 * The azure gloom 
 Of an Italian night, where the deep skies assume 
 Hues which have words, and speak to ye" of Heaven, 
 Floats o'er this vast and wondrous monument,' " — 
 
 and she stretched out her arm, with an impulsire, 
 gesture, as she spoke. I perceived a sudden recoil, 
 at the instant, of her dilating form, and, before 
 I could devise an explanation, heard the words, 
 *^ You are my prisoner, madam," and discovered a 
 gentleman standing in the deep shadow of the pillar, 
 close at her side, busily endeavoring to disentangle 
 the fringe of her shawl from the buttons of his coat* 
 
 I remembered, afterwards, having noticed in pass- 
 ing, sometime before, a shadowy figure standing with 
 folded arms and upturned face, half lost in the deep 
 shadow of a pillar, apparently quite unconscious of 
 the vicinity of the chattering ephemera fluttering by 
 his retreat. I at once surmised that Grace and I had 
 approached from the other side, and inadvertently sta- 
 tioned ourselves near this asthetical devotee — so near 
 that your cousin, in the excitement of her eloquence, 
 had fastened a lasso upon the dress of the stranger. 
 
 " You are my prisoner, madam," he said, in French. 
 The words were simple enough, not so apposite but 
 
TO POLIl-ENESS AND FASHION. 151 
 
 that many an one might have uttered them under 
 similar circumstances. Yet thej were replete with 
 meaning, conveyed by the subtle aid of intonation 
 and of manner. The most chivalrous courtesy, the 
 most exquisite refinement, were fully expressed in 
 that brief sentence. 
 
 " I have no fears either for my purse, or my life," 
 returned the quick-witted lady thus addressed, aiding 
 in the required disentanglement. 
 
 " You need have none," rejoined the gentleman, 
 "though the laws of chivalry entitle me to demand a 
 goodly ransom for so fair a prize " — glancing politely 
 towards me. 
 
 *' Accept, at least, the poor guerdon of this token 
 of my thanks," said tlie enthusiast of the moment, 
 tendering a beautiful flower, which was opportunely 
 loosened from her bosom by the slight derangement 
 of her dress. 
 
 " It will be a treasured memento," answered the 
 stranger, receiving the proffered gift with graceful 
 respect, and, bowing with the most courtly deference, 
 he walked rapidly away, as loth, by lingering one 
 needless moment, to seem intrusive. 
 
 " What a voice !" exclaimed Grace, as the retreat- 
 ing figure disappeared behind the fragment of a 
 fallen column, " blithe as the matin tone of a lark, 
 and" 
 
 " Clear as the note of the clarion that startled you 
 so upon the Appian "Way, the other day," I sug- 
 gested, " and indeed, I am not sure that there was 
 not a little tremor in your fingers, this time, my brave 
 
162 
 
 lady, and that yon did not hold just a little tighter 
 fast the arm of your old uncle." 
 
 "What nonsense, Uncle Hal! — could anything 
 be more delicately reassuring — admitting that I was 
 startled , at first, — than the whole bearing of the 
 gentleman?" 
 
 " Should you know him again ?" I questioned. 
 
 " I think I should, were it only by the diamond he 
 wore," she replied, with a little laugh at the woman's 
 reason. *' Did you observe it uncle, as his macin- 
 tosh was opened by the pulling of that silly fringe — 
 really it might grace the crescent of Dian herself, 
 on a gala-night — it was a young star ! but I also saw 
 his face distinctly as he raised his hat.'* 
 
 Well, now for the denoument of my story — for 
 every romantic adventure should properly have a 
 denoument. 
 
 As we were all riding on the Campagna a few 
 days afterwards, the usual intimation was given of 
 the approach of the cortege of the Pope. Of course 
 we went through the mummery of withdrawing, 
 while the poor old man was hurried along in his air- 
 ing. Standing thus together, a party of gentlemen 
 rode rapidly up, and, recognizing some of our party, 
 joined us. 
 
 Scarcely were the usual greetings over, when 
 Grace, reining her horse near me, said, in a low tone : 
 " Uncle, there is the ' bright particular star' of the 
 other night in the Coliseum ; I know I am not mis- 
 taken." 
 
 And so it proved — the polished, graceful stranger 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 153 
 
 was not a Prince incognito^ not even an acreless 
 count, whose best claim to respect consisted in here- 
 ditary titles and courtly manners, but a young Attic- 
 rican artist , full of activity, enthusiasm and genius, 
 who had not forgotten to give beauty to the casket, 
 because it enshrined a gem of high value. 
 
 Apropos of gems — ^I afterwards learned that the 
 superb brilliant he always wore on his breast was a 
 token of the gratitude of a distinguished and munifi- 
 cent patron and friend, for whom this child of feel- 
 ing and genius had successfully incarnated all that 
 was earthly of one loved and lost. 
 
 We subsequently became well acquainted with our 
 gifted countryman, and a right good fellow he proved. 
 We met him constantly in society, while at Florence 
 
 — the Italian Paradise of Americans^ as Miss 
 
 always called it — where his genial manners, the type 
 of a genial nature, made him a general favorite, as 
 well with natives as foreigners. 
 
 Soon after he was named to me that day on the 
 Campagna, your cousin, who had again moved from 
 my side, turned her face towards us. The movement 
 arrested the attention of my companion — ^he glanced 
 inquiringly at me. 
 
 " I think I am not mistaken, sir ; have we not met 
 before ?" and the same exquisite courtesy illumined 
 his face that had so impressed me previously. " May 
 I ask the honor of a presentation to my sometime 
 prisoner?" 
 
 " Keally, sir," I overheard Grace confessing, in hei 
 sprightliest tones, as, the two parties uniting for tho 
 
154 
 
 nonce, we all rode on together ; " really, sir, I re- 
 member to have been secretly rejoiced at having left 
 my heart, vratch, and other valuables, safely locked 
 up at home, when I found myself in such a danger- 
 ous-looking neighborhood." 
 
 "And /still indulge the regiet that my profession 
 did not fully entitle me to retain possession, not only 
 of the shawl, which, no doubt, was a camel's hair 
 of unknown value, but of the embodied poetry it 
 enwrapped." 
 
 " You seem quite to overlook the fact that I was 
 guarded, like a damsel of old, by a doughty knight." 
 
 I wish I could half describe the dextrous twirl of 
 the moustache, and the quickly-shadowed brow that 
 suddenly transformed that luminous and honest face 
 into that of the dark, moody brigand, as, fumbling 
 in his bosom the while, as about to unsheath a dag- 
 ger, he growled, in mock-heroic manner — " It were 
 easy to find means to silence such an opponent, with 
 such a" reward in view !" 
 
 The merry laugh with which Grace received this 
 sally, proved that she, at least, liked the versatility 
 of momner possessed by her gallant attendant. 
 
 Touching the electric chain of memory, causes 
 another link to vibrate, and I am reminded of my pro- 
 mise, made in a former letter, to tell you about the 
 American girl whose beautiful arm threw Powera 
 into raptures. 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 155 
 
 Yon will, perhaps, recollect that I alluded to my 
 having met abroad the heroine of the cor7ielian pdte 
 anecdote. I assm-e yon, I had ample occasion, more 
 than once, to be prond of my lovely countrywoman, 
 in the most distinguished European circles — and by 
 that term I do not refer to distinction created by 
 mere rank. But to my tale : 
 
 One day, during our mutual sojourn in her well- 
 named Italian " Paradise," Miss , and her father, 
 
 in accordance with a previous arrangement, called 
 at my lodgings, to take me with them to a dinner at 
 the Palace de . 
 
 " I propose, as we have purposely come early, Col. 
 Lunettes, in the hope of finding you at leisure, that 
 we shall drop in at Powers' studio, a few minutes ; 
 it is in our direct way, and he will be there, as !■ 
 happen to know. I so wish to know your impression 
 of papa's bust." 
 
 While I was enjoying a chat with the presiding 
 genius of the scene, a little apart from a group 
 gathered about some object of peculiar interest, a 
 sudden glow of enthusiasm lighted his eye, as with 
 Promethean fire. 
 
 "Heavens, what an arm!" exclaimed Powers. 
 "Oh, for the art to petrify it!" he added, with an 
 expressive gestm*e, the furore of the artist rapidly 
 enkindling. ' 
 
 Following the direction of his glance, I beheld 
 what might well excite admiration in a less discrimi- 
 nating spectator. The velvet mantle that had 
 shrouded the gala- dress of Miss having fallen 
 
156 THE AMEKICAJ!! GENTLEMAN S GUIDE 
 
 from her shoulders, disclosed the delicate beauty of 
 the uncovered arm and hand, which she was eagerly 
 extending towards the marble before her. 
 
 " Kemain just as you now stand, for a moment," 
 said I, " and let me see what I can do for you." 
 
 " Miss ," 1 asked, advancing towards my fair 
 
 friend, " will you let me invite your attention to this 
 new study ? It is entitled ' The Artist's Prayer,' and 
 18 supposed to impersonate the petition, * Petrify it, 
 O, ye gods!'" 
 
 Of course, this led to a brief and laughing expla- 
 nation. 
 
 "Happily, no earthly Powers can achieve that 
 transformation !" exclaimed the Lucifer of the Coli- 
 seum, who was present, " but all will join in the 
 entreaty that we may be permitted to possess an 
 imitation of so beautiful an original." 
 
 I am not permitted to disclose the secrets of the 
 inner temple ; but many of you will yet behold the 
 loveliness that so charmed the lovers of art, moulded 
 into eternal marble. 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 157 *^ 
 
 LETTER YI. 
 
 manner, continued. 
 
 bule8 fob visiting, and for manner in societt 
 generally. 
 
 My dear Nephews: 
 
 Having attempted, in my last two letters, 
 with what success you will best j udge, to give you 
 some practical hints respecting manner at home and 
 in the street, suppose we take up, next, the consi- 
 deration of the conduct proper in Visiting, and on 
 public occasions, generally. 
 
 Among the minor obligations of social life, per- 
 haps few things are regarded as more formidable by 
 the unpractised, than ceremonious morning visits to 
 ladies. And perhaps, among the simple occurrences 
 of ordinary existence, few serve more fully to illus- 
 trate individual tact, self-possession, and conver- 
 sational skill. 
 
 "Without aiming at much method in so doing, I 
 will endeavor to furnish you with a few directions 
 of general applicability. 
 
 Hours for making morning calls are somewhat 
 varied by place and circumstance ; but, as a rule^ 
 
158 
 
 twelve o'clock is the earliest hour at which it is 
 admissible to make a visit of ceremony. From 
 that time until near the prevailing dinner-horn*, in a 
 small town, or that known to be such in particular 
 instances, one may suit one's convenience. 
 
 It is obviously unsuitable, usually, to prolong an 
 interview of this kind beyond a very moderate 
 length, and hence, as well as for other reasons, the 
 conversation should be light, varied, and appropriate 
 to outward circumstances. 
 
 It is proper to send your card, not only to 
 announce yourself to strangers to whom you may 
 wish to pay your respects, but to all ladies with 
 whom you are not upon very intimate terms, and 
 at a private house, to designate intelligibly to the 
 servant who receives your card, the individual, or 
 the several persons, whom you wish to see. 
 
 If you go to a hotel, etc., for this purpose, write the 
 name of the lady or ladies, for whom your visit is 
 designed, upon your card, dbove your own name, in 
 a legible manner, and await the return of the mes- 
 senger, to whom you intrust it, where you part from 
 him. If, upon his return, you are to remain for 
 your friends, and there be a choice of apartments 
 for that purpose, unless you choose to station your- 
 self within sight of the stairs they must of need 
 descend, or the corridor through which they must 
 pass, let the porter in attendance distinctly understand 
 not only your name, but where you are to be found, 
 and if possible, give him some clue to the identifica- 
 tion of the friends you wish to see. After a few 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 159 
 
 vexatious mistakes and misapprehensions, you will 
 admit the wisdom of these precautionary measures, I 
 have no doubt. When you are shown into the draw- 
 ing-room of a private residence, if the mistress of the 
 mansion is present, at once advance towards her. 
 Should she offer her hand, be prompt to receive it, 
 and for this purpose, take your hat, stick, and right- 
 hand glove (unless an occasion of extreme ceremony 
 demands your wearing the latter), in your left hand, 
 as you enter. K your hostess does not offer her 
 hand, when she rises to receive you, simply bow, as 
 you pay your compliments, and take the seat she 
 designates, or that the servant places for you. When 
 there are other ladies of the same family present, 
 speak to each, in succession, according to age, or 
 other proper precedence, before you seat yourself. 
 If there are ladies in the room whom you do not 
 know, bow slightly to them, also, and if you are 
 introduced, after you have assumed a seat, rise and 
 bow to them. When men are introduced, they usu- 
 ally mutually advance and shake hands ; but the 
 intimation that this will be agreeable to her, should 
 always be the test when you are presented to a lady, 
 or when you address a lady acquaintance. 
 
 Some tact is necessary in deciding your move- 
 ments when you find yourself preceded by other 
 visitors, in making a morning call. If you have no 
 special reason, as a message to deliver, or an 
 appointment to make, for lingering, and discover 
 that you are interrupting a circle, or when you are 
 ji the midst of strangers, where the conversation. 
 
160 THE AMERICAN GENTLEMAn's GUIDE 
 
 does not at once become general, upon your making 
 one of them, address a few polite phrases to your 
 hostess, if you can do so with ease and propriety 
 from your position with regard to her, and take 
 leave, approaching her nearly enough, when you 
 rise to go, to make your adieu audible, or to receive 
 her hand, should she offer it. To strangers, even 
 when you have been introduced, you, ordinarily, only 
 bow passingly, as you are about to quit the room. 
 
 Should you have a special object in calling upon 
 a lady, keep it carefully in view, that you may 
 accomplish it before you leave her presence. When 
 other visitors, or some similar circumstance, interfere 
 with the accomplishment of your purpose, you may 
 write what you wish upon a card in the hall, as you 
 go out, and intrust it to a servant, or leave a message 
 with him, or in case of there being objections to 
 either of those methods of communication, resort to 
 an appointment requested through him, or subse- 
 quently write a note to that effect, or containing an 
 explanation of the object of your visit. When you 
 determine to outstay others at a morning reception, 
 upon the . rising of ladies to depart, you rise also, 
 under all circumstances ; and when they are acquaint- 
 ances, and unattended by a gentleman, accompany 
 them to the street-door, and to their carriage, if they 
 are driving, and then return to your hostess. Unac- 
 quainted, you simply stand until ladies leave tho 
 room, politely returning their parting salutation, if 
 they make one. Any appearance of a wish on the 
 part of those whom you chance to meet thus, for an 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 161 
 
 €bsid-e conversation, will, of course, suggest the pro* 
 priety of occupying yourself until your liostess is at 
 leisure, with some subject of interest in the room — 
 turn to a picture, open a book, examine some article 
 of Mjouterie^ and, thus civilly unobtrusive, observe 
 only when it is proper for you to notice the separa- 
 tion of the company. 
 
 As I have before said, in making a visit of mere 
 politeness, some passing topic of interest should suc- 
 ceed the courteous inquiries, etc., that naturally 
 commence the conversation. Visiting a lady prac- 
 tised in the usages of society, relieves one, very 
 naturally, from any necessity for leading the conver- 
 sation. 
 
 When your object is to make an appointment, 
 give an invitation, etc., repeat the arrangement 
 finally agreed upon, distinctly and deliberately, upon 
 rising to go away, that both parties may distinctly 
 understand it, beyond the possibility of mistake. 
 
 In attending ladies who are making morning visits, 
 it is proper to assist them up the steps, ring the bell, 
 write cards, etc. Entering, always follow them into 
 the house and into the drawing-room, and wait until 
 they have finished their salutations, unless you have 
 to perform the part of presenting them. In that 
 case, you enter with them, or stand within the door 
 until they have entered, and advance beside them 
 into the apartment. 
 
 Ladies should always be the first to rise, in termi- 
 nating a visit, and when they have made their adieux, 
 
162 
 
 their cavaliers repeat the ceremony, and follow them 
 out. 
 
 When gentlemen call together, the younger, oi 
 least in rank, gives careful precedence to others, 
 rendering them courtesies similar to those due to 
 ladies. 
 
 Soiled over-shoes, or wet over-garments, should, 
 on no account, be worn into an apartment devoted 
 to the use of ladies, unless they cannot be safely left 
 outside — as in the passage of a public house. In 
 such case, by no means omit an apology for the 
 necessary discourtesy. 
 
 When ladies are not in the apartment where you 
 are to pay your respects to them, advance to meet 
 them upon their entrance ; and in the public room 
 of a hotel, meet them as near the door as possible, 
 especially if there is no gentleman with them, or 
 the room be previously occupied, and conduct them 
 to seats. 
 
 ISTever remain seated in the company of ladies 
 with whom you are ceremoniously associated, while 
 they are standing. Follow them to any object of 
 interest to which they direct your attention ; place 
 a seat for them, if much time will be required for 
 such a purpose ; ring the bell, bring a book ; in 
 short, courteously relieve them from whatever may 
 be supposed to involve effort, fatigue, or discomfort 
 of any kind. It is, for this reason, eminently suitable 
 to offer the arm to ladies when ascending stairs. 
 Nothing is more absurd than the habit oi jprecedmg 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 163 
 
 them adopted by some men — as if by following just 
 behind, as one should, if the arm is disengaged, 
 there can be any violation of propriety. Soiled frills 
 or unmended hose must have originated this vul- 
 garity ! Tender the arm on the wall side of a lady, 
 mounting a stairs, that she may have the benefit of 
 the railing, and the fewer steps upon a landing ; and 
 in assisting an invalid, or aged person, it is often 
 well to keep one step in advance. It is always 
 decorous to suit your pace to those you would 
 assist. 
 
 It is also a proper courtesy, always to relieve 
 ladies of their parcels, parasols, shawls, etc., when 
 ever this will conduce to their convenience, which 
 is especially the case, of course, when they are 
 occupied with the care of their dresses in ascending 
 Bteps, entering a carriage, or passing through a 
 crowd. 
 
 The rules of etiquette properly observable m 
 making ordinary ceremonious morning-visits, are 
 also applicable to Morning Wedding- Beceptions with 
 slight variations. Of course, you do not then an- 
 nounce yourself by a card. "When previously ac- 
 quainted with her, you advance immediately to the 
 bride, and offer your wishes for her future happiness, 
 Never congratulate a lady upon her marriage ; such 
 felicitations are, with good taste, tendered to tho 
 bridegroom, not to the bride. 
 
 Having paid your compliments to the bride, 
 you shake hands with the groom, and bow to the 
 bride-maids, when you know them. Tho mother of 
 
164: THE AMERICAN GENTLEMAn's GUIDE 
 
 the bride should then be sought. Here, again 
 refinement dictates the avoidance of too eager 
 congratulations. While expressiDg a cordial hope 
 that the parents have added to their prospects of 
 future pleasure in receiving a new member into 
 their family, do not insinuate, by your manner, the 
 conviction that they have no natural regret at resign- 
 ing their daughter 
 
 "To another path and guide, 
 To a bosom yet untried." 
 
 It is not usual to sit down on such occasions ; and it 
 is as obviously unsuitable to remain long, as it is to 
 engage the attention of those whom others may be 
 waiting to approach, beyond the utterance of a few 
 brief, well-chosen sentences. 
 
 When you require an introduction to the bride, 
 but are acquainted with her husband, you may 
 speak first to him, and so secure a presentation. 
 Usually a groomsman, or some other gentleman, is in 
 readiness to present unknown visitors. In that case, 
 should he, too, be a stranger to you, mention your 
 name to him, and any little circumstance by which 
 he may afford a passing theme or explanation, when 
 he introduces you — as, that you are a friend of her 
 father — promised your particular friend, her sister, 
 to pay your respects, etc. 
 
 On this, as in the instance of all similar occasions, 
 tact and good-taste must suggest the variations of 
 manner required by the greater or less degree of 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 165 
 
 ceremony prevailing, and your individual relations 
 to those you visit. 
 
 In tliis connection I will add that a card may 
 sometimes be properly made a substitute for paying 
 one's respects in person — ^with a pencilled phrase of 
 politeness, or accompanied by a note. In either 
 case, an envelope of the most unexceptionable kind 
 should be used, and a note written with equal atten- 
 tion to ceremony. 
 
 A Visit of Condolence is often most tastefully 
 made by going in person to the residence of your 
 friend, and leaving a courteous message, and your 
 card, with a servant. Much politeness is sometimes 
 expressed by the earliest possible call upon friends 
 just arrived from a journey, etc., or by leaving or 
 sending a card, with a pencilled expression of 
 pleasure, and of the intention of availing yourself 
 of the first suitable moment for paying your com- 
 pliments in person. 
 
 Yisits upon New- Year's Day should be short, as a 
 rule, for the reasons before suggested, and it is not 
 usual to sit down, except when old friends urge it, or 
 when the presence of an elderly person, or an invalid, 
 demands the appearance of peculiar consideration. 
 
 On all occasions of ceremonious intercourse with 
 superiors in age and station, one or both, manner 
 should be regulated, as respects familiarity, or even 
 cordiality, by them. " He approached me wdth 
 familiarity^ I repulsed him with ceremony ^'^ said a 
 man of rank, alluding to an impertinence of this 
 kind. Never be the first, under such circumstances, 
 
16B 
 
 to violate the strict rules of convention. Tlieir 
 observance is often the safeguard of sensibility, as 
 well as of self-respect. 
 
 Simple good-taste will dictate the most quiet, un^ 
 noticeable bearing at Church. The saying of the 
 celebrated Mrs. Ohapone, that " it was part of her 
 religion not to disturb the religion of others," is all 
 inclusive. To enter early enough to be fully esta- 
 blished in one's seat before the service commences, 
 to attend politely, but very unostentatiously, to the 
 little courtesies that may render others comforta- 
 ble, to avoid all rude staring, and all appearance of 
 inattention to the proper occupations of the occasion, 
 as well as every semblance of irreverence^ will occur 
 to all well-bred persons as obviously required by 
 decorum. "When necessitated to go late to church, 
 one should, as on all similar occasions, endeavor to 
 disturb others as little as possible ; but with equal 
 Btudiousness avoid the vulgar exhibition of discom- 
 posure, of over-diffidence, or of any consciousness, 
 indeed, of being observed., which so unmistakably 
 savors of low-breeding. I cannot too frequently 
 remind you that self-possession is one of the grand 
 distinctive attributes of a gentleman, and that it is 
 often best illustrated by a simple, quiet, successful 
 manner of meeting the exigencies and peculiarities 
 of circumstances. 
 
 Never wear your hat into church. Kemove it in the 
 vestibule, and on no account resume it until you re- 
 turn thither, unless health imperatively demands your 
 doing so just before reaching the door opening into it. 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 167 
 
 All nodding, whispering, and exchanging of 
 glances in church, is in bad taste. Even the latter 
 should not be indulged in, unless a very charming 
 woman is the provoking cause of the peccadillo, and 
 then very stealthily and circumspectly I 
 
 Salutations, even with intimate friends, should 
 always be very quietly exchanged, while one is still 
 within the body of the sacred edifice, and the " outer 
 court" of the house of God were better not the scene 
 of boisterous mirth, or rude jostling. Let me add, 
 here, that it is always proper, when compelled to 
 hurry past those of right before you, at church, or 
 elsewhere in a crowd, to apologize, briefly, but po- 
 litely, for discommoding any one. 
 
 Whenever you are in attendance upon ladies, as at 
 the opera, concerts, lectures, etc., there is entire pro- 
 priety in remaining with them in the seat you have 
 paid for, or secured by early attendance. itTo gen- 
 tleman should be expected to separate himself from 
 a party to give his place to a lady under such circum- 
 stances, and in no country but ours would such a 
 request or intimation be made. But while it is quite 
 justifiable to retain the seat taken upon entering 
 such a public place, nothing is more wholly inad- 
 . missible than crowding in and out of your plact 
 repeatedly, talking and laughing aloud, mistimea 
 applauding, and the like. If you are not present for 
 the simple purpose of witnessing the performance, 
 whatever it may be, there are, doubtless, those who 
 are ; and it is not only exceedingly vulgar, but 
 immoral, to invade their rights in this regard. Be 
 
i 
 
 168 
 
 careful, therefore, to secure your libretto, concert- 
 bill, or programme, as the case may be, before 
 assuming your seat ; and when you have ladies with 
 you, or are one of a party, especially, as then you 
 cannot so readily accept the penalty of carelessness, 
 by not returning to your first seat. Should any un- 
 foreseen necessity compel you to crowd past others, 
 and afterwards resume your seat, presume as little as 
 possible upon their polite forbearance, by great care 
 of dresses, toes, etc., and each time politely apologize 
 for the inconvenience you occasion. Let me repeat 
 that no excuse exists for the too-frequent rudeness 
 of disturbing others by fidgeting, whispering, laugh- 
 ing, or applauding out of time. And even when 
 standing or moving about between the exercises, on 
 any public occasion, or the acts at a play-house, or 
 opera, well-bred people are never disregardful of 
 the rights and comfort of others. 
 
 In a picture-gallery, at an exhibition of marbles, 
 etc., nothing can be mote indicative of a want of 
 refinement sufficient to appreciate true art, than the 
 impertinence exhibited in audible comments upon 
 the subjects before you, and in interfering with the 
 enjoyment of others by passing before them, moving 
 seats noisily, talking and laughing aloud, etc. With 
 persons of taste and refinement, there is an almost 
 religious sacredness in the presence of the crea- 
 tions of genius, to desecrate which, is as vulgar 
 as it is irreverential of the beautiful and the goodi 
 Always then, carry out the most scrupulous regard 
 of the rights and feelings of others, when yourself a 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 169* 
 
 devotee at the shrine of ^Esthetics, bj attention to 
 the minutest forms of courtesy. This will dictate 
 leaving your place the moment you rise, carrying 
 everything with you belonging to you, and never 
 stopping to shawl ladies, don an overcoat, or dis- 
 pose of an opera-glass, until you can do so without 
 interrupting the comfort of those you leave behind 
 you. 
 
 When you wish to take refreshments, or to offer 
 them to ladies, at public entertainments, it is better 
 to repair to the place where they are served, as a 
 rule, unless it be in the instance of a single glass 
 of water, or the like ; except when a party occupy 
 an opera-box, etc., exclusively. 
 
 Be careful never to attach yourself to a party 
 of which you were not originally one, at any time, 
 or place, unless fully assured of its being agreeable 
 to the gentlemen previously associated with ladies ; 
 or if a gentleman's party only, attracts you, make 
 yourself quite sure that no' peccadillo be involved in 
 your joining it, and in either case, let your manner 
 indicate your remembrance of the circumstance of 
 your properly standing in the relation of a recipient 
 of the civilities due to the occasion. 
 
 Some men practically adopt the opinion that the 
 courteous observances of social and domestic life 
 are wholly inapplicable to business intercourse. A 
 little consideration will prove this a solecism. Good 
 oreeding is not a thing to be put off and on witb 
 varying outward circumstance. If genuine, inhe- 
 rent, it will always exhibit itself as certainly as 
 
 8 
 
ITO^ 
 
 integrity, or any other unalienable quality of an 
 individual. The manifestations of this characteristic 
 by manner^ will, of course, vary with occasion, but 
 it will, nevertheless, be apparent at all times, and to 
 all observers, when its legitimate influence is rightly 
 understood and admitted. 
 
 Hence, then, though the observance of elaborate 
 ceremony in the more practical associations of busy 
 outer life would be absurdly inappropriate, that care- 
 ful respect for the rights and feelings of others, which 
 is the basis of all true politeness, should not, under 
 these circumstances, be disregarded. 
 
 The secret of the superior popularity of some busi- 
 ness men with their compeers and erwployes^ lies 
 often, rather in manner than in any other character- 
 istic. You may observe, in one instance, a universal 
 favorite, to whom all his associates extend a welcom- 
 ing hand, as though there were magic in the ready 
 smile and genial manner, and who is served by his 
 inferiors in station with cheerfulness and alacrity, in- 
 dicating that a little more than a mere business bond 
 draws them to him ; and again, an upright, but exter- 
 nally-repulsive man, though always commanding 
 respect from his compeers, holds them aloof by his 
 frigidity, and receives the service of fear rather than 
 of love from those to whom he may be always just, 
 and even humane, if never sympathizing and un- 
 bending. 
 
 As I have before remarked, there is no occasion 
 where we are associated with others, that does not 
 demand the exhibition of a polite manner. Thus at 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 171- 
 
 a public table^ no man should allow himself to feed 
 like a mere animal, wholly disregardful of those 
 about him, and, as too frequently happens, forgetful 
 of the proprieties that are observed when eating in 
 private. Only at the best conducted hotels are all 
 things so well and liberally appointed as to render 
 those who meet at public tables wholly independent 
 of each in little matters of comfort and convenience, 
 and a well-bred man may be recognized there, as eve- 
 rywhere else, by his manner to those who may chance 
 to be near him. He will neither call loudly to a ser- 
 vant, nor monopolize the services that should be 
 divided with others. His quick eye will discern a lady 
 alone, or an invalid, and his ready courtesy supply a 
 want, or proffer a civility, and he will not grudge a. 
 little self-denial, or a few minutes' time, in exchange 
 for the consciousness of being true to himself, even 
 in trifles. ISTor will he ever eat as though running a 
 race of life and death with Time ! Health and de- 
 cency will alike prompt him to abstain wholly from 
 attempting to take a meal, rather than assimilate 
 himself to a ravenous brute, to gratify his appetite. ; 
 Let no plea of w^ant of time ever induce you, I en- 
 treat, to acquire the American habit of thus eating 
 in public. Even in the compulsatory haste of tra- 
 velling, there is no valid excuse for this unhealthy 
 and disgusting practice. And, with regard to daily 
 life at one's hotel, or the like, the man who is habi- 
 tually regardful of the value and right use of time, 
 may well and wisely permit himself the simple indul- 
 gence and relaxation of eating like a gentleman ! 
 
172 
 
 While on this subject, permit me to remind you 
 of the impropriety of staring at strangers, listening 
 to conversation in which you have no part, comment- 
 ing audibly upon others, laughing and talking bois- 
 terously, etc., etc. Let not even admiration tempt 
 you to put a modest woman out of countenance, by 
 a too fixed regard, nor let her even suspect that a nod, 
 a shrug, a significant whisper or glance had her for 
 their object. Good-breeding requires one to hear as 
 little as possible of the conversation of strangers, near 
 whom he may chance to be seated. We quietly 
 ignore their presence (as they should ours), unless 
 some exigency demands a courtesy ; but we do not 
 disturb our neighbors by vociferousness, even in the 
 height of merriment, however harmless in itself. 
 
 Should a lady, even though an entire stranger, be 
 entering an eating-hall alone, or attended by another 
 gentleman, at the same moment with yourself, give 
 precedence to her, with a slight bow ; and so, when 
 quitting the room, as well as to your acknowledged 
 superiors in age or position generally, and carefully 
 avoid such self-engrossment as shall engender inat- 
 tention to their observances. So, too, when meeting 
 a lady on a public stairs, or in a passage-way, give 
 place sufficiently to allow her to pass readily, touching 
 your hat at the same moment. In the sa;me manner 
 remove a chair, or other obstacle that obstructs the 
 way of a lady in a hotel parlor, or on a piazza ; avoid 
 placing a seat so as to crowd a lady, encroacli upon 
 a party, or compel you to sit before others. 
 
 I admit that these are the minuticB of manners, my 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 173 
 
 dear fellows ; but attention to them will increase your 
 self-respect, and give elevation to your general cha- 
 racter, just in proportion as selfi^ subdued, and the 
 baser propensities of our nature kept habitually in 
 subserviency to the nobler qualities illustrated by 
 habitual good-breeding. 
 
 But to return. Though the circumstances must be 
 peculiar that sanction your addressing a lady with 
 whom you are unacquainted, in a public parlor, or 
 the like, you are not required by convention to ap- 
 pear so wholly unconscious of her presence as to 
 retain your seat just in front of the only fire in the 
 room on a cold day, in the only comfortable chair, or 
 a place so near the only airy window on a hot one, 
 as to preclude her approach to it. ]^or are you 
 bound to sit in one seat and keep your legs across 
 another, on the deck of a steamer, in a railroad car, 
 in a tavern, at a public exhibition, while women 
 stcmd near you, compelled by your not Icnowing 
 them ! Let me hope, too, that no kinsman of mine 
 will ever feel an inclination, when appealed to for 
 information in some practical emergency, by one of 
 the dependent sex, to repulse her with laconic cold- 
 ness, though the appeal should chance when he is 
 hurrying along the public highway of life, or through 
 the most secluded of its by-paths. 
 
 Few young men, I must believe, ever remember 
 when in a large hotel, at night, with their compa- 
 nions, that — opening into the corridors through which 
 they tramp like a body of mounted cavalry upon a 
 foray, with appropriate musical accompaniments — 
 
1T4 
 
 may be the apartments of the weary and the sick ; or, 
 that, separated from the room in which they prolong 
 their nocturnal revels, by only the thinnest of parti- 
 tions, lies a timid and lonely woman, shrinking and 
 trembling more and more nervously at each succes- 
 sive burst of mirth and song, or worse, that effectu- 
 ally robs her of repose. Yet Sir Walter Kaleigh, or 
 Sir Philip Sidney, might, perchance, have thought 
 even such a trifling peccadillo not un-note-worthy. 
 
 The same general rules that are applicable to man- 
 ner in public places, at hotels, etc., are almost 
 equally so in travelling^ modified only by circum- 
 stances and good sense. 
 
 A due consideration for the rights and feelings of 
 others, will be a better guide to true politeness than 
 a whole battery of conventionalisms. Courtesy to 
 ladies, to age, to the suffering, will here, as ever, 
 mark the true gentleman, as well as that habitual 
 refinement which interdicts the offensive use of 
 tobacco, where women sit or stand, or any other slo- 
 venliness or indecorum. 
 
 Under such circumstances, as many others in real 
 life, never let cold ceremony deter you from render- 
 Ing a real service to a fellow-being, though you rea- 
 dily avail yourself of its barriers to repel imperti- 
 nence or vulgarity. It is authentically recorded of 
 one of the loyal subjects of the little crowned lady 
 over the ocean, that, as soon as he was restored to 
 the privileges of civilization, after having been cast 
 away upon a desert island with only one other per- 
 son, he at once challenged his companion in misfor- 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 175 
 
 tune for having spoken to him, during their mutual 
 exile, without an introduction ! 
 
 Should you indulge in any skepticism respecting 
 the literal truthfulness of this historical record, I can 
 personally vouch for the following : Our eccentric 
 
 and unhappy countryman, the gifted poet, P , 
 
 was once, while travelling, roused from a moody and 
 absorbing reverie, by the address of a stranger, who 
 
 said : " Sir, I am Mr. W , the author — ^you have 
 
 no doubt heard of me." The dreamy eye of the 
 contemplative solitaire lighted with a sudden fire, 
 as he deliberately scrutinized the intruder, then 
 quickly contracting each feature so that his physio- 
 gnomy changed at once to a very respectable imita- 
 tion of a spy-glass, he coolly inquired: " Who the 
 devil did you say you are /" 
 
 Practice and tact combined, can alone give a man 
 ease and grace of manner amid the varying demands 
 of social life, but systematic attention to details will 
 soon simplify whatever may seem formidable in re- 
 gard to it. No one but a fool or a monomaniac goes 
 on stumbling through his allotted portion of exist- 
 ence, when he may easily learn to go without stum- 
 bling at all, or only occasionally. 
 
 Thus, after experiencing the embarrassment of 
 keeping ladies, with whom you have been driving in 
 a hired carriage, standing in the rain, or sun, or in a 
 jostling crowd, while you are waiting for change to 
 pay your coach, or submitting to extortion, or search- 
 ing for your pui'se, you will, perhaps, resolve, when 
 you are next so circumstanced, to ascertain before* 
 
176 THE AMERICAN GEJJTTLEMAn's GUIDE 
 
 hand, if possible, exactly what jou should lawfully 
 pay, to have your money ready before reaching your 
 final destination, and to leave the ladies seated in 
 quiet while you alight, pay your fare and then 
 secure shawls, etc., and make every other ar- 
 rangement and inquiry that will facilitate their 
 speedy and comfortable transit from the carriage. 
 
 Thus much for manner inj^vhlic. 
 
 Now then, a few words relative to the bearing 
 proper in social intercourse, and I will release 
 you. 
 
 In the character of Host^ much is requisite that 
 would be unsuitable elsewhere, since the youngest 
 and most modest man must, of necessity, then take 
 the lead. Thus, when you have guests at dinner, 
 some care and tact are required in the simple matter, 
 even, of disposing of your visitors with due regard 
 to proper precedents. Of course, when there are 
 only men present, you desire him whom you wish to 
 distinguish, to conduct the mistress of the mansion to 
 the table, and are, yourself, the last to enter the 
 dining-room. AVhen there are ladies, the place of 
 honor accorded to age, rank, or by some temporary 
 relative circumstance, is designated as being at your 
 right hand, and you precede your other guests, in 
 attendance upon such a lady. A stranger lady, for 
 whom an entertainment is given, should be met by her 
 host before she enters the drawings-room, and con- 
 ducted to the hostess. A gentleman, under similar 
 circumstances, must be received at the door of the 
 reception-room. In both instances, introductions 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 177 
 
 should at once be given to those who are invited to 
 meet such guests. 
 
 Persons living in large cities may, if they possess 
 requisite pecuniary means, always procure servants 
 so fully acquainted with the duties properly belong- 
 ing to them as to relieve themselves, when they have 
 visitors, from all attention to the details of the table. 
 But it is only in the best appointed establishments 
 that hospitality does not enjoin some regard to 
 these matters. It may be unfashionable to keep an 
 eye to the comfort of one's friends, when we are 
 favored with their company, to consult their tastes, to 
 humor their peculiarities, to convince them, by a thou- 
 sand nameless acts of consideration and deference, 
 that we have pleasure in rendering them honor due ; 
 — this may not be in strict accordance with the 
 cold ceremony of modern fashion, but it, neverthe- 
 less, illustrates one of the most beautiful of charac- 
 teristics — one ranked by the- ancients as a virtue — 
 Hospitality ! 
 
 Permit me, also, to remind you that sometimes the 
 most worthy people are not high-bred — not familiar 
 with conventional proprieties ; that they even have 
 a dread of them, on account of this ignorance ; and 
 that they are, therefore, not fit subjects towards 
 whom to display strict ceremony, or from whom to 
 expect it. But always remember, that, though th^y 
 may not understand conventionalisms, they will ful- 
 ly appreciate genuine kindness^ the talismanic charm 
 that will always place the humblest and most self- 
 distrustful guest at ease. And never let a vulgar, 
 
 8* 
 
178 
 
 degrading fear of compromising your claims to gen- 
 tility, tempt you to the inhumanity of wounding the 
 feelings of the humblest of your humble friends ! 
 
 If you have a large rout at your house, it will, 
 necessarily, be impossible for you to render special 
 attention to each guest; but you should, notwith- 
 standing, quietly endeavor to promote the enjoy- 
 ment of the company, by bringing such persons 
 together as are best suited to the appreciation of each 
 other's society, by drawing out the diffident, tender- 
 ing some civility to an elderly, or particularly unas- 
 suming visitor, and, in short, by a manner that, 
 without in any degree savoring of over-solicitude, or 
 bustling self-importance, shall save you from a fate 
 similar to that of a gentleman of whom I lately read 
 the following anecdote : 
 
 A stranger at a large party, observing a gentleman 
 leaning upon the coi'ner of a mantel-piece, with a 
 peculiarly melancholy expression of countenance, 
 accosted him thus: — "Sir, as we both seem to be 
 entire strangers to all here, suppose we both return 
 home ?" He addressed his host ! 
 
 In general society, do not let your pleasure in the 
 conversation of one person whom you may chance 
 to meet, or your being attached to a pleasant party, 
 tempt you to forget the respect due to other friends, 
 who may be present. Man-ied ladies, whose hospi- 
 talities you have shared, strangers who possess a claim 
 upon you, through your relations with mutual friends, 
 gentlemen whose politeness has been socially extend* 
 ed to you, should never be rudely overlooked, or 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 179 
 
 discourteously neglected. Sucli a manner wou.d 
 indicate rather a vulgar eagerness for selfish enjoy- 
 ment than the collected self-possession, the well-sus- 
 t-ained good-breeding, of a man of the world. Do 
 not let a sudden attack of the modesty suitable to 
 youth and insignificance, induce you to regard those 
 proprieties as of no importance in your parti- 
 cular case — exclaiming, "What's Hecuba to me, 
 or I to Hecuba ?" Believe me, no one is so unimpor- 
 tant as to be unable to give pleasure by politeness ; 
 and no one having a place in society, has a right to 
 self-abnegation in this respect. 
 
 " Husband, do you know a young Mr. Y , in 
 
 Bociety here — a lawyer, I think?" inquired a lady- 
 friend of mine, of a distinguished member of the 
 Legislature of our State, with whom I was dining, at 
 his liotel. 
 
 " Y ? That I do !^ and a right clever fellow he 
 
 is : — why, my dear ?" 
 
 " Oh, nothing, I met him somewhere the other mor- 
 ning, and was struck with his pleasing manners. This 
 morning I was really indebted to his politeness. You 
 know how slippery it was — well, I had been at Mrs. 
 
 S 's reception, and was just hesitating on the top 
 
 of the steps, on coming away, afraid to call the man 
 from his horses, and fearful of venturing down alone, 
 
 when Mr. Y ran up, like a chamois-hunter, 
 
 and offered his assistance. He not only escorted me 
 
180 
 
 to the sleigli, but tucked up the furs, gave me my 
 muff, and inquired for your health with such good- 
 humor and cordiality as really quite won my heart !" 
 
 "I should be exceedingly jealous, were it not that 
 he made exactly tlie same impression upon me, a few 
 evenings before you joined me here. It was at Miss 
 T 's wedding. Of course, I had a card of invita- 
 tion to the reception, after the ceremony, but, disliking 
 crowds as I do, and as you were not here, I decided 
 not to go. — ^The truth is, Colonel, [turning to me] 
 we backwoodsmen are a little shy of these grand 
 state occasions of ceremony and parade." — 
 
 " Backwoodsmen, as you are pleased to term them, 
 sometimes confer far more honor upon such occasions 
 than they upon him," returned I. 
 
 "You are very polite, sir. Well, as I was saying, 
 in the morning I met the bride's father, who was one 
 of my early college friends, in the street, and he 
 urged me, with such old-fashioned, hearty cordiality 
 to come, that I began to think the homely charm 
 of hospitality might not be wholly lacking, even at 
 a fashionable entertainment, in this most fashionable 
 city. So the upshot of the matter was my going, 
 though with some misgivings about my court-costume^ 
 as my guardian-angel had deserted me." Really, 
 boys, I wish you could have seen the chivalrous 
 courtesy that lighted the fine eye and shone over the 
 manner of the speaker, as, with these last words, he 
 bowed to the fair companion of his life for something 
 like half a century. 
 
 "You forget, my dear," rejoined the lady, as a soft 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASfnON. 181 
 
 smile, and a softer blush stole over her still beautiful 
 
 face, " that Mrs. M wrote me jou were quite 
 
 the lion of the occasion, and that half the young 
 ladies present, including the bride herself, were" — 
 
 " My dear ! I cry you mercy ! — Bless my soul ! — 
 an old fellow like me !" 
 
 "But K , my dear friend," I exclaimed, " don't 
 
 be personal " 
 
 " Lunettes, you were always, and still are, irresis- 
 tible with the ladies, but — ^you are an exception.^^ 
 
 "I protest!" cried Mrs. K , joining in our 
 
 laughter, " Mr. Clay, to his latest day, was in high 
 favor with ladies, young and old — there was no with* 
 standing the charm of his manner. At Washington, 
 one winter that I spent there, wherever I met him, 
 he was encircled by the fairest and most distinguish- 
 ed of our sex, all seeming to vie with each other for 
 his attentions — and this was not because of his politi- 
 cal rank, for others in high position did not share his 
 popularity ; — it was his grace, his courtesy, his je ne 
 sais quoi, as the French say." 
 
 " Mr. Clay was as remarkable for quiet self-pos- 
 session and tact, in social as in public life," said I. 
 " When I had the honor to be his colleague, I often 
 had occasion to observe and admire both. I remem- 
 ber once being a good deal amused by a little scene 
 
 between him and a Miss , then a reigning belle 
 
 at Washington, and a great favorite of Mr. Clay's. 
 Keturning late one night from the Capitol, excessive* 
 ly fatigued by a long and exciting debate, in which 
 he had borne an active part, he dropped into the 
 
182 
 
 ladies' parlor of onr hotel, on his way up stairs, 
 hoping, I dare say, Mrs. K., to enjoy the soothing 
 influence of gentler smiles and tones than those he had 
 left. The room was almost deserted, but, ensconced 
 in one comer of a long, old-fashioned sofa, sat Miss 
 , reading. His keen eye detected his fair friend 
 in a moment, and his lagging step quickened as he 
 approached her. A younger and handsomer man 
 might well have envied the warm welcome he 
 received. After sitting a moment beside the lady, 
 Mr. Clay said, abruptly : — 
 
 ^ " Miss , what is your definition of true polite- 
 
 ness ?" 
 
 " Perfect ease," she replied. 
 
 " I have the honor to agree with you, madam, and, 
 with your entire permission, will take leave to 
 assume the correctness of this position /" As he 
 spoke, with a dextrous movement, the statesman 
 
 disposed a large cushion near Miss 's end of the 
 
 sofa, and simultaneously, down went his head upon 
 the cushion, and up went his heels at the other 
 extreme of the sofa ! But, my dear fellow, we are 
 losing your adventures at the great wedding party, 
 all this time " 
 
 " Yery true, my dear," added Mrs. K , wiping 
 
 her eyes, "you fell in love with Mr. Y , you 
 
 know " 
 
 " Oh, yes," returned my host, " I did, indeed ; but 
 
 I had no adventures, in particular. Y was one 
 
 of the aids-de-camp^ on the occasion, as I knew by 
 the white love-knot (what is the fashionable name, 
 
, TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. l83 
 
 wife ?) he wore on his breast. He was in the hall, 
 when I came down stairs, to act in his office of 
 groomsman. Upon seeing me, he advanced, and 
 asked whether he cou'ld be of any service to me. I 
 explained, while I drew on mj gloves, that I did 
 not know the bride, and feared that even her mother 
 might have forgotten an early friend. His young 
 eyes found the button of my glove quicker than mine, 
 and as he released my hand, he said, showing a sad 
 rent in his own, " you are fortunate in not having 
 split them, sir, — but you gentlemen of the old scTwol^'^ 
 he added with a respectful bow, " always surpass us 
 youngsters in matters of dress, as well as everything 
 else." As he said this, the young rogue glanced 
 politely over my plain black suit, and offered me his 
 arm as deferentially as though I had been an Ex- 
 President, at least ; and so on, throughout the even- 
 ing, with apparent unconsciousness of self. I should 
 have thought him wholly devoted to my enjoyment 
 of everything and everybody, had I not observed 
 that others, equally, or more, in need of his attention 
 than I, shared his courtesy — from an elderly lady in 
 a huge church-tower of a cap, who seemed fearfully 
 exercised less she should not secure her full share of 
 the wedding-cake boxes, to one of the little sisters 
 of the bride, who clung to her dress and sobbed as 
 if her heart must break — all seemed to like him and 
 defend on him." 
 
 " I have not the pleasure of Mr. Y 's acquaint- 
 ance," said I, " but I prophesy that he will succeed 
 in lifer 
 
184 
 
 " Yes, and make friends at every step !" responded 
 Mrs. K , warmly. " After we parted this morn- 
 ing, I Lad an agreeable sort of half-consciousness 
 that something pleasant had happened to me, and 
 when I analised the feeling, Wordsworth's lines 
 seemed to have been impersonated to me : — 
 
 * A face with gladness overspread ! 
 Soft smiles, by human kindness bred ! 
 And seemliness complete, that sways 
 Thy courtesies, about thee plays ! ' " 
 
 I have known few persons with as exquisite aesthe- 
 tical perceptions as my lovely friend Minnie. So I 
 promised myself great pleasure in taking her to see 
 Cole's celebrated series of pictures — ^The Course op 
 Time. It was soon after Cole's lamented death ; and, 
 as Minnie had been some time living where she was 
 deprived of such enjoyments, she had never seen 
 these fine pictures. 
 
 As we drove along towards the Art Union Gallery, 
 the fair enthusiast was all eager expectation. " How 
 
 often my kind friend Mr. S B. E , used to 
 
 talk to me of Cole," said she, " and promise me the 
 pleasure of knowing him. When he died I felt as 
 though I had lost a dear friend, as I had indeed, for all 
 who worship art, have a friend in each child of genius." 
 
 ^' Cole was emphatically one of these," returned I, 
 " as his conceptions alone prove." 
 
 " Yes, indeed," replied Minnie, '' I always think of 
 him as the poet-painter^ since I saw his firet series— 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 185 
 
 the ' Progress of Empire.' Only a poet's imagina- 
 tion could conceive bis subjects." 
 
 I placed my sweet friend in the most favorable 
 position for enjoying each picture in succession, and 
 seated myself at her side, rather for the gratification 
 of listening to the low murmurs of delight that should 
 be breathed by her kindred soul, than to view the 
 painter's skill, as that no longer possessed the attrac- 
 tion of novelty for me. 
 
 We had just come to the sublime portraiture of 
 ^^ ManKood^^ and Minnie seemed wholly absorbed in 
 her ow^n thoughts and imaginings. Suddenly a silly 
 giggle broke the charmed stillness. The Devotee of 
 the Beautiful started, as if abruptly awakened from 
 a dream, and a slight shiver ran through her sensi- 
 tive frame. 
 
 Turning, I perceived, standing close behind us, a 
 group of young persons, chattering and laughing, 
 and pointing to different parts of the picture before 
 us. Their platitudes were not, perhaps, especially 
 stupid, nor were they more noisy and rude than I 
 have known free-lorn republicans before, under 
 somewhat similar circumstances ; but poor Minnie 
 endured absolute torture ; her idealized delight 
 vanished before a coarse reality. I well remember 
 the imploring and distressed look with which she 
 whispered : " Let us go, dear Colonel ;" and one 
 glance at her pale face satisfied me that the spell was 
 irrevocably broken for her, and that her long antici- 
 pated "joy," in beholding "a thing of beauty '^ 
 had indeed been cruelly alloyed. 
 
186 THE AMERICAN OENTLEMAn's GUIDE 
 
 If my memory serves me aright, I told you some- 
 thing, in a former letter, of an interesting lady, a 
 friend of mine, whose husband was shot all to pieces 
 in the Mexican War, and after lying for many months 
 in an almost hopeless condition, finally so far reco- 
 vered as to be removed to the sea-board, to take ship 
 for New Orleans. "When informed of this, his beauti- 
 ful young wife — a belle, a beauty, and the petted idol 
 of a large family circle before her marriage — set out, 
 at mid-winter, accompanied by one of her brothers^ 
 and taking with her the infant-child, whom its 
 soldier-father had never seen, to meet her husband 
 on his homeward route. This explanation will ren- 
 der intelligible the following incident, which she 
 herself related to me. 
 
 " My brother remained with us some time at 'New 
 Orleans," said the fair narrator ; " but, as Ernest 
 began to improve, I entreated him to return home, 
 as both his business and his family demanded his 
 attention; and you know. Colonel Lunettes," she 
 added, with a sad smile, " that a soldier^ s wife must 
 learn to be brave, for her own sake as well as for 
 his. Ernest had with him an excellent, faithful 
 servant, who was fully competent to such service as 
 I could not render, and my little boy's nurse was 
 with me, of course. So we made our homeward 
 journey by slow stages, but with less suffering to 
 my husband than wt3 could have hoped, and I grew 
 strong as soon as we were re-united, and felt ade- 
 quate to anything, almost " 
 
TO POLITE JTESS AND FASHION. 187 
 
 The fair young creature added the last word with 
 the same mournful smile that had before flitted over 
 her sweet face, and as if rather in reply to the 
 doubtful expression she read in my countenance, 
 than from any remembrance of having failed, in the 
 slightest degree, in the task of which she spoke. 
 
 " On the night of our arrival at A , however," 
 
 pursued Mrs. Y , " we seemed to reach such a 
 
 climax of fatigue and trial, as to make further 
 endurance literally impossible for poor Ernest. Our 
 little child had been taken ill the day before, so that 
 I could not devote myself so entirely to him as I 
 could have wished; and, as we drew near home, 
 his impatience seemed to increase the pain of his 
 wounds, so that, on this evening, he was almost 
 exhausted both in body and mind. "We stopped at 
 
 the D House, as being nearest the depot, which 
 
 was a great point with us ; but such a comfortless, 
 shiftless place !" 
 
 " An abominable hole !" I ejaculated ; "one never 
 gets anything fit to eat there !" 
 
 " That was the least of our difficulties," returned 
 the lady, " as we had to leave our man-servant to 
 look after our luggage, it was with great difficulty 
 that my poor husband was assisted up stairs into the 
 public parlor, and he almost fainted while I gave a 
 few hurried directions about a room. Such a scene 
 as it was ! The poor baby, weary and sleepy, began 
 to cry for mamma, and nurse had as much as she 
 could do with the care of him. Ernest had sunk 
 
188 THE AMERICAN GENTLEMAn's GUIDE 
 
 down upon the only sofa in the room — a huge, 
 heavy machine of a thing, that looked as though 
 never designed to be moved from its place against 
 the wall. I gave my husband a restorative, but in 
 
 vain. He grew so ghastly pale that " a sob here 
 
 choked the utterance of the speaker. 
 
 " My dear child," said I, taking her hand, " do not 
 say another word ; I cannot forgive myself for ask- 
 ing you these particulars — all is well now — do not 
 recall the past !" 
 
 " Excuse me, dear Colonel, I wish to tell you, I 
 want you to know, how we were treated by a brute 
 in human form — to ask you whether you could have 
 believed in the existence of such a being — so 
 utterly destitute of common politeness, not to say 
 humanity." 
 
 " I hope no one who could aid you, in this 
 extremity, failed to do so." 
 
 *' You shall hear. Ernest was shivering with cold, 
 as well as exhaustion, and whispered to me that he 
 would try to sit by the fire until the room was 
 prepared. I looked round the place for an easy- 
 chair ; there was but one, and that was occupied by 
 a man who was staring at us, as though we were 
 curiosities exhibited for his especial benefit." 
 
 " ' Ernest,' said, I aloud, ' you are too weak to sit 
 in one of these chairs without arms, and with 
 nothing to support your head.' 
 
 " * I will try, love,' he replied, * for I am so cold !' 
 
 " ' I will ask that man for his chair, I whispered. 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 189 
 
 Poor Ernest ! his eyes flashed. * 'No ! No I' said he, 
 
 * if he has not the decency to offer it, you shall not 
 speak to him !' 
 
 " Of course, I would not irritate him by opposi- 
 tion, but placed an ordinary chair before the fire, 
 and, supporting him into it, held his head on my 
 shoulder, while I chafed his benumbed hands. In 
 the meanwhile, the wail of the baby did not help to 
 quiet us, nor to shorten the time of waiting ; and it 
 seemed as if John would never make his appear- 
 ance, nor the room I had ordered be prepared. By 
 my direction, nurse rang the bell. I inquired of 
 the very placid individual who answered it, whether 
 the room was ready for us, and upon being told that 
 they were making the fire, entreated the emblem of 
 serenity to hasten operations, and at once to bring 
 me a cup of hot tea. Minutes seemed hours to me, 
 as you may suppose, and the dull eyes that were 
 fastened upon us from the centre of the stuffed 
 chair, I so longed for, really made me nervous. 
 1 felt as though it might be some horrid ghoul, 
 rather than anything human, thus looking upon our 
 misery. ' Good G , Lu !' said Ernest, at last, 
 
 * isn't the bed ready yet V 
 
 " I could bear it no longer. Gently withdrawing 
 my support from the weary, weary head, I flew to 
 my boy, snatched him from nurse, and signifying 
 my design to her, we united our powers, and, laying 
 baby on the sofa, we succeeded in pushing it up to 
 the side of the fire-place. Then, while I hushed the 
 child on my breast, we piled up our wrappings and 
 
190 
 
 placed mj husband upon the couch, so as to rest his 
 poor wounded frame (you know, Colonel, his spine 
 was injured). The groan, half of relief and half 
 of tortufe, that broke from his lips, as he rested 
 his head, was like to be the ' last straw ' that broke 
 my heart — but the soldier's wife I How often did I 
 repeat to myself, during that long journey : 
 
 * Remember thou'rt a soldierh wifty 
 Those tears but ill become thee !' 
 
 "Well ! by this time, John made bis appearance, 
 and, consigning his master temporarily to his care, I 
 took nurse with me, and went to see what a woman's 
 ready hand could do in expediting matters elsewhere. 
 When showed to the room we were expected to 
 occupy, I found it so filled witb smoke, and so dreadt 
 fully cold, as to be wholly uninhabitable, and in 
 despair sent for the steward, or whoever he was, to 
 whom I had given directions at first. No otber 
 room with two beds could be secured. By the glim- 
 mering liglit of the small lamp in the hand of the 
 Irishman, who was laboring with the attempt at a 
 fire, I investigated a little; the smouldering coals 
 belched forth volumes of smoke into my face. 
 Nothing daunted by this ('twas not the ' smoke of 
 battle,' though I felt as though in the midst of a 
 conflict of life and death), I bade the man remove 
 the blower. Behold the draught closed by the strip 
 of stone sometimes used for that purpose, after a 
 hard coal fire is fully ignited 1 I think, Colonel, you 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 191 
 
 would have admired the laconic, imperiously cool 
 tone and manner with which I speedily effected the 
 removal of the entire mass of cold hard coal, substi- 
 tuted for it, light, dry wood, and covering up my 
 boy, as he still rested in my arms, dissipated the 
 smoke that contended with the close, shut-up sort of 
 air in the room, for disagreeability, by opening the 
 windows, had the most comfortable looking of the 
 beds drawn near the fire, and opened to air and 
 warm, ordered up the trunks we wanted, opened 
 tliem, hung a warm flannel dressing-gown near the 
 fire, placed his slippers and everything else Ernest 
 would want just where they would be wanted, near 
 the best chair I could secure, and the table that was 
 to receive his supper when he should be ready 
 for it, and, in short put the matter through^ as Er- 
 nest would say, with the speed of desperation. It 
 was wonderful how quickly all this, and more, was 
 effected by the people about me chiefly through 
 my ability to tell them exactly what to do and how 
 to do it. Excuse me if I boast; it was the deep 
 calmness of despair that inspired me ! J^ow I can 
 smile at the look of blank amazement with which 
 Paddy received my announcement of the necessity 
 of taking out all the coals from the grate, before 
 he could hope to kindle a fire, and the stare of the 
 
 man of affai/ra for the D House, as he entered 
 
 upon the field of my efforts to say that tea was 
 ready." 
 
 " There is but one step from the sublime to the 
 ridiculous !" 1 exclaimed, laughing, in spite of my 
 
192 
 
 Bympathy with my fair friend. " And what became 
 of the barbarian in the large chair ?" 
 
 " Oh, when I returned to the parlor to have Ernest 
 removed to our own room, there he sat, still, lolling 
 comfortably back in his chair, with his hat on, and 
 his feet laid up before him, and apparently as much 
 occupied as ever in staring at the strangers, and no 
 more 
 
 * On hospitable thoughts intent ' 
 
 than when I quitted the room, the horrid ghoul I I 
 was so rejoiced to escape with my treasures safe 
 from his blighting gaze ! But now for the moral of 
 my story, dear Colonel, for every story has its moral, 
 I suppose, — John, Ernest's man, told nurse, who, by 
 the way, was so highly indignant on the occasion, as 
 to assure me afterwards, that if she had been a man, 
 she'd have just pitched the selfish brute beast out of 
 
 the chair, and taken it for Mr. Y , without so 
 
 much as a ' by your leave.' " 
 
 I could not refrain from interrupting Mrs. to 
 
 say that I thought I should have been sorely tempted 
 to some such act myself, under the circumstances. 
 
 " Yes," pursued Mrs. Y , " nurse still recurs to 
 
 that * awful cold night in A ' with an invariable 
 
 malediction upon the * had speret as kept the chair.' 
 But, as I was saying, John told her afterwards that 
 the ghoul asked him who that sick gentleman was, 
 and said that his wife appeared to be in so much 
 trouble that he should have offered to help her along 
 a little, but he wasnH acquainted with her /" 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 193 
 
 " Uncle Hal, isn't an artist a gentleman f " inquired 
 Blanche of me one morning, during a recent visit to 
 our great Commercial Metropolis, as the newspaper 
 writers call it. " "What do you mean, child," said I, 
 " you cannot mean to ask whether artists ranlc as 
 gentlemen in society, for that does not admit of ques- 
 tion." I saw there was something troubling her, 
 the moment she came down, for she did not welcome 
 her old uncle with her usual sparkling smile, though 
 she snugged close up to me on the sofa, and kept 
 my hand in both of hers, while we were arranging 
 some matters about which I had called. 
 
 " Is not an engraver an artist ?" she inquired, with 
 increased earnestness of tone. " Does not an engra- 
 ver who has a large atelier^ numbers of employes^ 
 and does all kinds of beautiful prints, heads, and 
 landscapes, and elegant figures, take rank in social 
 life with other gentlemen?" 
 
 " Certainly, my dear ; but tell me what you are 
 thinking of ; what troubles you my child ?" 
 
 ** Well, you remember, dear uncle, perhaps, the 
 young orphan boy in whom papa and all of us used to 
 be so interested the summer you spent with us, long 
 ago, when we were all children at home. He is 
 now established in this city, after years of struggle 
 with difficulties that would have crushed a less 
 noble spirit, and his sisters, for whom he has always 
 provided, in a great degree, though at the cost of 
 almost incredible self-denial, as I happen to know, 
 are now nearly prepared for teachers. We have 
 
194: 
 
 always retained our interest in tliem all ; and they 
 always make ns a visit when they are at D . In- 
 deed, papa always says he knows few young men for 
 whom he entertains so high a regard ; and I am sure ho 
 is very good-looking, and though he may not he very 
 fashionable, — you needn't smile, uncle Hal, I " 
 
 " My dear, I am charmed with your sketch, and 
 shall go, at once, and have my old visage engraved 
 by your handsome artist-friend ; and when I pub- 
 lish my auto-biography, it shall be accompanied by 
 a 'portrait of the author,' superbly engraved by 
 a ' celebrated artist.' " 
 
 "He is celebrated, uncle, really ; you have no idea 
 of the vast number of orders he has from all parts of 
 the country, nor how beautifully he gets up every- 
 thing. But I must tell you," proceeded the sensi- 
 tive little thing, with more cheerfulness, for I had 
 succeeded in my design of cheering her up a little — 
 " Mr. Zousky — Henry, as we always call him, has 
 been engraving the head of one of our friends at 
 home for a literary affair — some biographical book, 
 or something of that sort, and he came up to show 
 me one of the ' first impressions,' as I think he calls 
 them, and to bring a message from his sister, last 
 evening — wishing me to ' criticise,'' ho told me, as 
 he had nothing but rather an indifferent daguerreo- 
 type to copy from. It was just before tea that he 
 called — ^because he is busy all day, I suppose, and 
 perhaps, he thought he should be sure of finding me, 
 then. Indeed, he said something about fearing to 
 intrude later, when there might be other visitors-— 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 195 
 
 he is the most sensitive and unobtrusive being! 
 "Well, just as we were having a nice little chat about 
 
 old times at D , cousin Charles came home and 
 
 came into the parlor. Of course, he knows Henry- 
 very well, for he has seen him often and often at 
 our house, when he used to be there in vacations 
 with my brothers ; and, indeed, once before Henry 
 came here to live, was one of a party of us, who 
 went to his little studio, to see his self-taught paint- 
 ings and sketches. When he entered the room, I 
 said, ' cousin Charles, our friend Mr. Zousky does 
 not need an introduction to you, I am sure.' I can- 
 not describe his manner. I did not so much mind 
 its being cold and indifferent, but it was not that of 
 an equal — of one gentleman to another, and without 
 sitting down, even for a moment, he walked back to 
 the dining-room, and I heard him ask the servant 
 whether tea was ready. Henry rose in a moment, 
 and took my hand to say good-bye — oh, uncle, I can- 
 not tell you how hurt I was ! His voice was as low 
 and gentle as ever, but his face betrayed him ! I 
 know he noticed cousin Charles' manner. I was 
 determined that he should not go away so; so I 
 didn't get up, but drew him to a seat by me on the 
 sofa, and said that he must not go yet, unless he had 
 an engagement, for that I had not half done telling 
 him what I wished, and rattled on, hardly knowing 
 what I did say, for I was so grieved and mortified. 
 He said he would come again, as it was my tea- 
 time, but I insisted that my tea was of no con>«e 
 quence, and that 1 much preferred talking to » 
 
196 THE AMERICAN GENTLEMAn's GUIDE 
 
 friend — all the while hoping that either cousin 
 Maria or cousin Charles would come and invite 
 him to take tea. Presently I heard cousin Maria 
 come down, and then the glass doors were closed 
 between the rooms, and I knew they were at tea. 
 Why, uncle Hal, papa would no more have 
 done such a thing in his house^ than he would 
 have robbed some one ! What ! wound the feeling3 
 of any one for fear of not being ' genteel P that's the 
 word, I suppose — I hear cousin Maria use it very 
 often ! We were always taught by dear mamma, 
 while she lived, to be particularly polite and atten- 
 tive to those who might not be as happy or prosper- 
 ous as ourselves. She used to say that fashionable 
 and distinguished people were the least likely to 
 observe those things, but that the sensitive and self- 
 distrustful were apt to be almost morbidly alive to 
 every indication of neglect. * !N'ever brush rudely 
 by the human sensitive- plant, my dears,' she used to 
 say, ' lest you should bruise the tender leaves ; and 
 never forget that it most needs the sunshine of 
 smiles P Dear mamma ! she used to be so polite to 
 Henry — not patronizing, but so friendly, so con- 
 siderate — always she put him at ease when there 
 was other company at our house (though he never 
 came in when he knew there were other visitors), 
 and she used to do so many kind things to assist his 
 first efforts in his art ! I only hope he understood 
 that /have no rights here. I am sure I feel that I 
 have not ! But I would rather be treated a hundred 
 times over again as I was last night, myself, than to 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 197 
 
 have Henry's feelings wounded; stjjjl, I must say 
 that I should not think, because she happened to be 
 detained past the exact tea-hour, of sending away 
 the tea-things and keeping cold slops in a pitcher for 
 any guest in my house, if I had one " 
 
 " Hush, Blanche ! I never heard you talk so in- 
 discreetly before !" 
 
 " Well, I don't care ! Papa made me come here 
 to stay, because he said they had visited us, and 
 came out to Bel's wedding, and all; but I do so 
 wish I was at the St. Nicholas with you and the 
 Clarks, uncle, dear ! Cousin Charles ain't like him- 
 self since he married his fashionable !N^ew York 
 wife ; even when he comes to pa's he isn't, though 
 there he throws oif his cold, ceremonious manner 
 somewhat. But I really feel as if I was in a straight- 
 jacket here !" , 
 
 " "Why, Blanche, what's the trouble ? I am sure 
 everything is very elegant and fashionable here !" 
 
 " Yes, too elegant and fashionable for poor little 
 me ! I am not used to that, and don't care for it. 
 I'd rather have a little more friendliness and socia- 
 bility than all the splendor. I am constantly re- 
 minded of my utter insignificance ; and you know, 
 uncle, poor Blanche is spoiled, as you often say, and 
 not used to being reduced to a mere nonentity !" 
 
 With this the silly child actually began to cry, 
 and when I tried to soothe her, only sobbed out, in 
 broken words : " I wouldn't be such a goose as to 
 mind it, if Henry Zousky had not been treated so 
 60, so — so—fashrion-arbly /" 
 
198 
 
 LookiDg over some letters from a sprightly corres- 
 pondent of mine, the other day, I laid aside one from 
 •which I make the following extract, as apposite to 
 my subject : 
 
 " You asked me to give you some account of the 
 social position, etc., and an idea of the husband of 
 
 jour former favorite, M S . ' What is Dr. 
 
 J — — like V you inquire : — Like nothing in heaven 
 above, or in the earth beneath, I answer ; and, there- 
 fore, he might be worshipped without a violation of 
 the injunction of the Decalogue ! How such a viva- 
 cious creature as M S came to tie herself 
 
 for life to such a mule, passes my powers of solution. 
 
 Dr. J is very accom]:)lished in his profession, for 
 
 a young man, I hear, and much respected for his 
 professional capacity — but socially he is — nothing/ 
 — ^the merest cipher conceivable ! A man may be 
 very quiet at home, now-a-days, and yet pass muster ; 
 but there are times when he vnust act^ as it seems to 
 
 me ; but M 's husband seems to be a man of one 
 
 idea^ and that never, seemingly, suggests the duties 
 of host. But you shall judge for yourself — While 
 
 I was in A , we were all invited there one 
 
 evening, to meet a bride, an old friend of M 's, 
 
 stopping in town on her marriage tour. M 
 
 said it was too early^ in the season for a large party, 
 and that we were expected quite en famille / but it 
 was, in reality, quite an occasion, nevertheless, as 
 the bride and her party were fashionable Bostonians. 
 I happened to be near the hostess, when the guests 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 190 
 
 of the evening entered. She received tliem with 
 her usual Frenchy ease and playfulness of manner, 
 and it seemed, that the gentleman was an old friend 
 of hers, but did not know her husband. He ex- 
 pressed the hope that Dr. J 's professional duties 
 
 would not deprive them of his society the whole 
 evening, as he much desired the pleasure of his 
 acquaintance. I saw, by the heightening of her 
 
 color, that M , woman of the world though she 
 
 be, felt the unintended sarcasm of this polite lan- 
 guage ; for Dr. J. was calmly ensconced in the deep 
 recess of a large fcmteuil in the corner of the fire* 
 place, apparently enjoying the glowing coal-fire 
 that always adds its cheerful influence to the ele- 
 gant belongings of M 's splendid drawing-room. 
 
 Throughout the entire evening our effigy of a host 
 kept his post, where we found him on entering. 
 People went to him, chatted a while, and moved 
 away ; we danced, refreshments were served, wine 
 was quaffed, 
 
 " ' All went merry as a marriage- bell ;' 
 
 M glided about from group to group, with an 
 
 appropriate word, or courteous attention for each 
 one, and, in addition to the flowers that adorned the 
 rooms, presented the bride of her old friend with an 
 exquisite bouquet, saying, in her pretty way, that 
 she would have been delighted to receive her in a 
 
 bower of roses, when she learned from Mr. how 
 
 much she liked flowers, but that Flora was in a pet 
 with Jier since she had given up her old conservatory 
 
200 
 
 at lier father's. As the evening waned, I observed 
 her weariness, despite the hospitable smile ; and well 
 she might be ! Several times she slipped awav to 
 her babe ; once, when I stood near her, she started 
 slightly : " I thought I heard a nursery-cry ^^^ she 
 whispered to me, " my little boy is not well to- 
 night ;" and I missed her soon after. When I went 
 away, I, of course, sought the master of the house 
 to say good-night. He half rose, with a half smile, 
 in recognition of my adieu, and re-settled himself, 
 apparently wholly unconscious of any possible occa- 
 sion for further effort ! But the climax, in true 
 epic style, was reserved for the finale. It was a 
 frightfully stormy night, and when we came down 
 
 to the street door to go away, there stood M , in 
 
 her thin dress, the cold wdnd and sleet-rain rushing 
 in when the door was opened, enough to carry away 
 her fairy figure, seeing off her friend and his lyrideH 
 
 ** My dear Miss C ," exclaimed a gentleman; 
 
 after listening to the complaint of a lady who had 
 just been charging the lords of creation with tlie 
 habitual discourtesy of retaining their hats when 
 speaking to ladies, in stores and shops, as well as in 
 public halls and even in the drawing-room ; " My 
 
 dear Miss C , don't you know that * Young 
 
 America ' al/ways wea/rs his hat and hoots whenever 
 he can .^" 
 
 " Does he slee^ in them f " inquired the lady. 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 201; 
 
 " Well, my dears," I overheard a high-bred and 
 exceedingly handsome man inquiring of two lovely 
 English girls, on board a steamer the other day, 
 "how did you succeed in your efforts to dine to-day? 
 I will not again permit you to be separated from 
 your aunt and me, if we find the table ever so 
 crowded." 
 
 " But we had Charley, you know, sir," returned 
 one of the fair interlocutors, with a smile worthy of 
 Hebe herself. 
 
 " True, but Charley is only a child ; and boys as 
 well as women fare ill at public tables in this * land 
 of liberty and equality,' unless aided by some pow- 
 erful assistant !" 
 
 "I thought we had found such a champion 
 to-day," exclaimed the other lady, " in the person 
 wlio sat next me at dinner. His hands were so nice 
 that I should not have objected in the least to his 
 offering me such dishes as were within his reach, 
 especially as there seemed to be no servant to attend 
 us, and we really sat half through the first course 
 without bread or water. Having nothing else to do, 
 for some time, I quietly amused myself with 
 observing my courteous neighbor. So wholly ab- 
 sorbed did he seem in his own contemplations, so 
 utterly oblivious of everything around him, except 
 the contents of his heaped-up plate, that I soon 
 became convinced that I had the honor to be in 
 close proximity to a philosopher, at least, and 
 
202 
 
 probably to some fixed star in the realms of 
 science !" 
 
 " Oh, Clare ! I am so sorry to tell you, but I 
 learned afterwards, accidentally, that your profound- 
 looking neighbor is — a dentist /" 
 
 " And, therefore, accustomed only to the most 
 painful associations with the mouths of others P^ 
 chimed in the aristocrat, laughing in chorus : 
 " "Well, as our shrewd, sensible friend, the daughter 
 of the Siddons, used to say, after her return from 
 America, * if the Americans profess to be all equal^ 
 they should be equally well hred P " 
 
 With a repetition of this doubly sarcastic apo- 
 thegm, my dear friends, for the present, 
 Adieu ! 
 
 Hakry Lunettes. 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 
 
 LETTEE YII. 
 
 HEALTH, THE TOILET, ETC. 
 
 My DEAR Nephews : 
 
 Since no man can fulfill his destiny as an 
 actively-useful member of society without Healthy 
 perhaps a few practical suggestions on this impor- 
 tant subject may not be inconsistent with our present 
 purpose. 
 
 The only reliable foundation upon which to base 
 the hope of securing permanent possession of this 
 greatest of earthly blessings, is the early acquisition 
 of Habits of Temperance. 
 
 In a proper sense of the word. Temperance is an 
 all-inclusive term — it does not mean abstaining from 
 strong drink, only, nor from over-eating, nor from 
 any one form of self-indulgence or dissipation ; but 
 it requires moderation in all things^ for its full 
 illustration. 
 
 It was this apprehension of the term that was 
 truthfully exhibited in the long, useful, consistent 
 life of our distinguished countryman, John Quincy 
 Adams. Habits formed in boyhood, in strict accord 
 
204 
 
 ance with tins principle, and adhered to in every 
 varying phase of circumstance throughout his pro- 
 longed existence, were the proximate cause of his 
 successful and admirable career. And what a ca- 
 reer! How triumphantly successful, how worthy of 
 admiration! More than half a century did he 
 serve his country, at home and abroad, dying 
 at last, with his armor on, — a watchman, faithful, 
 even unto death, upon the ramparts of the Citadel, 
 where Justice, Truth, and Freedom have found a last 
 asylum. Think you that the intellectual and moral 
 purposes of his being could have been borne out 
 by the most resolute exercise of will, but for the 
 judicious training of the physique f Or could the 
 higher attributes of his nature have b^en developed, 
 indeed, in conjunction with a body ^cabined, cribbed 
 and confined' by the enervating influence of youthful 
 Belf-indulgence ? Born on — 
 
 " Stern New-England's rocky shore,'* 
 
 no misnamed luxury shrouded his frame from the 
 discipline of that Teacher, " around whose steps the 
 mountain breezes blow, and from whose countenance 
 all the virtues gather strength." You are, doubtless, 
 all familiar with Mr. Adams' habits of early rising, 
 bathing, etc. The latter, even, he maintained until 
 within two years of his death, bathing in an open 
 stream each morning, if his locality permitted the 
 enjoyment, at a very early hour. I have his own 
 authority for the fact that he, during the differ- 
 ent periods of his public sojourn abroad, laved his 
 
TO rOLITENESS AND FASHION. 205 
 
 vigorous frame in almost every river of Europe! 
 Franklin, too, ascribed his triumph over the obstacles 
 that obstructed his early path to a strict adherence 
 to the rules of Temperance. And so, indeed, with 
 most of the truly great men whose names illumine 
 the pages of our country's history : — I might multi- 
 ply examples almost ad infinitum^ but your own 
 reading will enable you to endorse the correctness of 
 my assertion. 
 
 Since we have, incidentally, alluded to the Bath^ in 
 connection with the example of Mr. Adams, let us 
 commence the consideration of personal habits, with 
 this agreeable and essential accessory of Health. 
 
 Though authorities may differ respecting somo 
 minor details with regard to bathing, I believe medi- 
 cal testimony all goes to sanction its adoption by 
 all persons, in some one of its modifications. Con- 
 stitutional peculiarities should always be consulted 
 in the establishment of individual rules, — hence no 
 general directions can be made applicable to all per- 
 sons. The cold bath, though that most frequently 
 adopted by persons in health, is, no doubt, injurious 
 in some cases, and careful observation alone can 
 enable each individual to establish the precise tem- 
 perature at which his ablutions will be most bene- 
 ficial. 
 
 But, while the most scrupulous and unvary- 
 ing regard for cleanliness should be considered of 
 primary importance, the indiscreet use of the bath 
 should be avoided with equal care. Bishop Heber, 
 one of the best and most useful of men, sacrificed 
 
206 
 
 Idmself in the midst of a career of eminent piety, to 
 an imprudent use of this luxury, arising either from 
 igaorance or inadvertency. After rising very early 
 ta baptize several native converts recently made in 
 India, the field of his labors, he returned to his bun- 
 galow in a state of exhaustion from excitement and 
 abstinence, and, without taking any nourishment, 
 threw himself into a bath, and soon after expired ! — 
 lS[o one can safely resort to the bath when the bodily 
 powers are much weakened, by whatever cause; 
 and though it is mi wise to use it directly after taking 
 a full meal, it should not immediately precede the 
 chief meal of the day, if that be taken at a late hour, 
 and after prolonged abstinence and exertion. 
 
 The art of swimming early acquired, affords the 
 most agreeable and beneficial mode of bathing, not 
 to dwell upon its numerous recommendations in other 
 respects ; but when this enjoyment cannot be secured, 
 nor even the luxury of an immersion bath, luckily for 
 health, comfort, and propriety, the means of sponge 
 hathing may always be secured, at least in this 
 country (wherever it has risen above barbarism), 
 though I must say that frequently during my travels 
 in England, and even through towns boasting good 
 hotels, I found water and towels at a high premium, 
 and very difficult of acquisition at that I Sponging 
 the whole person upon rising, either in cold or tepid 
 water, as individual experience proves best, with the 
 use of the Turkish towel, or some similar mode of 
 friction, is one of the best preparations for a day of 
 useful exertion. 
 
rO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 207 
 
 This practice has collateral advantages, inasmuch 
 as it naturally leads to attention to all the details of 
 the toilet essentially connected with refinement and 
 health — to proper care of the Hair, Teeth, Nails, etc., 
 — in short, to a neat and suitable arrangement of the 
 dress before leaving one's apartment in the morning. 
 To slippered age belongs the indulgence of a careless 
 morning toilet ; but with the morning of life we pro- 
 perly associate readiness for action in some pursuit 
 demanding steady and prolonged exertion, early 
 begun, and with every faculty and attribute in full 
 exercise. 
 
 Fashion sanctions so many varying modes of wear- 
 ing or not wearing the hair^ that no directions can be 
 given in relation to it, except such as enjoin the avoid- 
 ance of all fantastic dressing, and the observance of 
 entire neatness with relation to it. Careful brushing, 
 together with occasional ablutions, will best preserve 
 this natural ornament ; and I would, also, suggest the 
 use of such jpomades only as are most delicately 
 scented. No gentleman should go about like a 
 walking perfumer's shop, redolent, not of — 
 
 *' Sabean odors from the spicy shores 
 Of Araby the Blest," 
 
 but of spirits of turpentine, musk, etc., * commixed 
 and commingled ' in ' confusion worse confounded ' 
 to all persons possessed of a nicety of nervous organ- 
 ization. All perfumes for the handkerchiefs, or worn 
 about the person, should be, not only of the most 
 unexceptionable kind, but used in very moderate 
 
quantities. Their profuse use will ill supply the 
 neglect of the bath, or of the proper care of the teeth 
 and general toilet. 
 
 The Teeth cannot be too carefully attended to by 
 those who value good looks, as well as health. And 
 nothing tends more towards their preservation than 
 the habitual use of the brush, before retiring, as well 
 as in the morning. The use of some simple uninju- 
 rious adjunct to the brush maybe well; but pare 
 water and the brush, faithfully applied, will secure 
 cleanliness — the great preservative of these essential 
 concomitants of manly beauty. If you use tobacco 
 — (and I fervently hope none of you who have not 
 the habit will ever allow yourselves to acquire it !) 
 — ^but if you are, unfortunately, enslaved by the 
 habit, never omit to rinse the mouth thoroughly 
 after smoking (I will not admit the possibility, that 
 any young man, in this age of progressive refinement, 
 is addicted to habitual chewing), and never substi- 
 tute the use of a strong odor for this proper observ- 
 ance, especially when going into the society of 
 ladies. Smoke dispellers must yield the palm to the 
 purifying effects of the unadulterated element, after 
 all. 
 
 The utmost nicety in the care of the I/'ails, is an 
 indispensable part of a gentleman's toilet. They 
 should be kept of a moderate length, as well as clean 
 and smooth. Avoid all absurd forms, and inconve- 
 nient length, in cutting them, which you will find it 
 easiest to do neatly while they are softened by wash- 
 ing, and the use of the nail-brush. 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 209 
 
 Properly fitted "boots and shoes, together with fre- 
 quent bathing, will best secure the feet from the 
 torturing excrescences by which poor mortals are 
 BO often afflicted. The addition of salt to the foot- 
 bath, if persevered in, will greatly protect them from 
 the painful effects of over-walking, etc. 
 
 I think that under the head of Dress, in one of my 
 earliest letters, I expressed my opinion regarding 
 the essentials of refinement and comfort as con- 
 nected with this branch of the toilet. I will only 
 say, in this connection, that a liberal supply of linen, 
 hosiery, etc., should be regarded as of more impor- 
 tance than outside display, and that the most en- 
 lightened economy suggests the employment of 
 the best materials, the most skillful manufacturers, 
 and the unrestrained use of these " aids and appli • 
 ances" of gentleman-like propriety, comfort, and 
 health. 
 
 The best and surest mode of securing ample and 
 certain leisure for needful attention to the minutiae of 
 the toilet is Early Rising^ a habit that, in addition to 
 the healthful influence it exerts upon the physique, 
 collaterally, promotes the minor moralities of life in 
 a wonderful degree, and really is one of the funda- 
 mentals of success in whatever pursuit you may be 
 engaged. Here, again, permit me to refer you to 
 the examples of the truly great men of history — those 
 of our own land will suffice — ^Washington, Frank* 
 lin, Adams, and, though inconsistent with his habits 
 in some other respects, Webster. Of the latter, it is 
 well known, that he did not trim the midnight lamp 
 
for purposes of professional investigation or mental 
 labor of any kind, but rose early to such tasks, witn 
 body and mind invigorated for ready and successful 
 exertion. I have seen few things from his powerful 
 pen, more pleasingly written than his Eulogy upon 
 Morning^ as it may properly be called, though 1 
 don't know that to be the title of an article written 
 by him in favor of our present theme, in which 
 erudition and pure taste contend for supremacy with 
 convincing argument. 
 
 But to secure the full benefit of early rising^ my 
 young friends, you must also, establish the habit of 
 retiring ea/rly and regularly. ]^o one dogma of 
 medical science, perhaps, is more fully borne out by 
 universal experience than this, that "two hours' 
 sleep before midnight is worth all obtained after- 
 wards." To seek repose before the system is 
 too far over-taxed for quiet, refreshing rest, and 
 before the brain has been aroused from the qui- 
 escence natural to the evening hours, into renewed 
 and unhealthy action, is most consistent with the 
 laws of health. And, depend upon it, though the 
 elasticity of youthful constitutions may, for a time, 
 resist the pernicious effects of a violation of these 
 laws, the hour will assuredly come, sooner or later, to 
 all, when the lex taZionis will be felt in resistless 
 power. Fashion and Kature are sadly at war on this 
 point, as I am fully aware; but the edicts of the one 
 are immutable, those of the other are proverbially 
 fickle. 
 
 Students, especially, should regard obedience to 
 
TO POLITENE88 AND FASHION. 211 
 
 the wiser of the two as imperative. The mental 
 powers, as well as the physical, demand this — the 
 ^'mind's eye^^ as well as the organs of outward vision, 
 will be found, bj experiment, to possess the clearer 
 and quicker discernment during those hours when, 
 throughout the domains of Nature, all is activity, 
 healthfulness and visible beauty. And no pecu- 
 liarity of circumstance or inclination will ever make 
 that healthful which is unnatural. Hence the wis- 
 dom of establishing habits consistent with health, 
 while no obstacle exists to their easy acquisition. 
 There is an experiment on record made by two 
 generals, each at the head of an army on march, in 
 warm weather, over the same route. The one led 
 on his troops by day, the other chose the cooler 
 hours for advancing, and reposed while the sun was 
 abroad. In all other respects, their arrangements 
 were similar. At the end of ten or twelve days, the 
 result convincingly proved that exertion even under 
 mid-summer heat is most healthfully made while the 
 stimulus of solar light sustains the system, and that 
 sleep is most refreshing and beneficial in all respects 
 when sought while the hush and obscurity of the 
 outer world assist repose. 
 But if, as the nursery doggerel wisely declares, 
 
 " Early to bed and early to rise, 
 Makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise," 
 
 there must be united with this rational habit, others 
 each equally important to the full advantage to be 
 derived from all combined. 
 
212 THE AMERICAN GENTLEMAN^S GUIDE 
 
 Among these, Exercise holds a prominent rank 
 As with the bath, this is most effectually employed 
 for health before the system is exhausted by mental 
 labor. 
 
 Among the numerous modes of exercise, none is so 
 completely at command at all times and under all 
 circumstances, as walking. But the full benefit of 
 this exercise, is not often enjoyed by the inhabitants 
 of cities, by reason of the impure air that is almost 
 necessarily inhaled in connection with it. Still, it is 
 not impossible to obviate this difficulty by a little 
 pains. The early riser and the rapid pedestrian may 
 in general, easily secure time to seek daily one of 
 the few and limited breathing-places that, though in 
 this regard we are vastly inferior to Europeans in taste 
 and good sense, even our American cities supply, 
 either, like what they indeed are, hings^ in the very 
 centre of activity, or at no unapproachable distance 
 from it. Do not forget that vegetation, while it 
 sends forth noxious influences at night, exales oxy- 
 gen and other needful food for vitality, m the 
 inorning, especially ; nor that an erect carriage, 
 which alone gives unobstructed play to the organs of 
 respiration and digestion, is requisite, together with 
 considerable activity of movement, to secure the 
 legitimate results of walking. 
 
 Students, and others whose occupations are of a 
 sedentary character, sometimes adopt the practice 
 of taking a long walk periodically. This is, no 
 doubt, promotive of health, provided it is not at first 
 carried to an extreme. All such habits should bo 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 213 
 
 gradually formed, and their formation commenced 
 and pursued with due respect for physiological rules. 
 Mr. Combe, the distinguished phrenologist — in his 
 " Constitution of Man," I think, relates an instance 
 of a young person, in infirm health and unaccustom- 
 ed to such exertion, who undertook a walk of twenty 
 miles, to be accomplished without interruption. 
 Tlie first seven or eight miles were achieved with 
 ease and pleasure to the pedestrian, but thenceforth 
 discomfort and final exhaustion should have been a 
 sufficient warning to the tyro to desist from his self- 
 appointed task. A severe illness was the conse- 
 quence and punishment of his ignorant violation of 
 physiological laws. 
 
 By the way, I cannot too strongly recommend to 
 your careful perusal the various works of Dr. Andrew 
 Combe, long the physician of the amiable King of 
 Belgium, in relation to that and kindred subjects. 
 His " Physiology as applied to Mental Health," is 
 replete with practical suggestions and advice of the 
 most instructive and important nature, as are also 
 his " Dietetics," etc. 
 
 Himself an incurable invalid, he maintained the 
 vital forces through many years of eminent useful- 
 ness to others, only by dint of the most strenuous 
 adherence to the strictest requirements of the Science 
 of the Physique. The writings of his brother, Mi\ 
 George Combe, and especially the work I have just 
 mentioned, the " Constitution of Man," also abound 
 in lessons of practical usefulness, which may be 
 adopted irrespective of his peculiar phrenological 
 
214: THE AMEEICAK GENTLEMAn's GUmK 
 
 views. In the multitude of newer publications these 
 admirable books are already half-forgotten, but my 
 limited reading has afforded me no knowledge of 
 anything superior to them, as text- books for the 
 young. 
 
 Hiding and driving need no recommendation to 
 insure their popularity, as means of exercise. Both 
 have many pleasure and health-giving attractions. 
 
 Every young man should endeavor to acquire a 
 thorough knowledge of both riding and driving, not 
 from a desire to emulate the ignoble achievments of 
 a horse-jockey, but as proper accomplishments for a 
 gentleman. 
 
 The possession of a fine horse is a prolific source 
 of high and innocent enjoyment, and may often be 
 secured by those whose purses are not taxed for 
 cigars and wine ! Nothing can be more exhilarating 
 than the successful management of this spirited and 
 generous animal, whether under the saddle or in har- 
 ness ! Even plethoric, ponderous old Dr. Johnson, 
 admitted that " few things are so exciting as to be 
 drawn rapidly along in a post-chaise, over a smooth 
 road, by a fine horse !" 
 
 Let me repeat, however, that young men should 
 be content to promote health and enjoyment by the 
 moderate, gentleman-like gratification of the pride 
 of skill, in this respect. Like many other amuse- 
 ments, though entirely innocent and unexcep- 
 tionable when reasonably indulged in, its abuse 
 leads inevitably to the most debasing consequences. 
 — Our dusty high-roads very ill supply the place of 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 215 
 
 the extensive public Parks and gardens that furnish 
 such agreeable places of resort for both riding and 
 driving, as well as for j)ede6trians, in most of the large 
 cities of Europe, but one may, at least, secure better 
 air and more freedom of space by resorting to them 
 than to the streets, for every form of exercise. And 
 as it is a well established fact that agreeable and 
 novel associations for both the eye and the mind are 
 essential concomitants of beneficial exercise, we have 
 every practical consideration united to good taste in 
 favor of eschewing the streets whenever fate per- 
 mits. 
 
 ** Oh ! how canst thou renounce the boundless store 
 Of charms which Nature to her votaries yields, — 
 The warbling woodland, the resounding shore, 
 The pomp of groves and garniture of fields ; 
 All that the genial ray of morning gilds, 
 And all that echoes to the song of even. 
 All that the mountain's sheltering bosom shields. 
 And all the dread magnificence of Heaven ; — 
 ! how canst thou renounce and hope to be forgiven !" 
 
 Beattik 
 
 Eating and drinking are too closely connected 
 with our general subject of health, to be forgotten 
 here. 
 
 That regard for Temperance which I have endea- 
 vored to commend to you, of course yields a promi- 
 nent place to habits in these respects. 
 
 In relation to eating^ I strongly recommend the 
 cultivation of sinvple tastes^ and the careful avoid- 
 ance of every indulgence tending towards sensuality 
 
216 THE AMERICAN GENTLEMAn's GUmE 
 
 Some knowledge of Dietetics is essential to the adop- 
 tion of right opinions and practice on this point. 
 For instance, no man should wait for dire experience 
 to enforce the truths that roast and broiled meats 
 possess the most nutritious qualities ; that all fried 
 dishes are, necessarily, more or less unwholesome ; 
 that animal oils and fatty substances require stronger 
 digestive force for their assimilation than persons of 
 sedentary life usually possess ; that warm bread, as a 
 rule, is unsuited to the human stomach, etc., etc. 
 [No one should consider these matters unworthy of 
 eerious attention, though temporarily free from incon- 
 venience arising from neglecting them. Eventually, 
 every human constitution will exhibit painful proofs 
 of all outrages committed upon the laws by which 
 its operations are governed ; and the greater the 
 license permitted in youth, the severer will be the 
 penalty exacted in after years. 
 
 " Mind and Body are so close combined, 
 
 Where Health of Body, Health of Mind you find." 
 
 Pieserve, then, as you value the means of useful- 
 ness, the perfect play of your mental powers — so 
 easily trammelled by the clogging of the machinery 
 of the body — the unadulterated taste that is content 
 with a sufficiency of wholesome, well-cooked food to 
 satisfy the demands of healthful appetite. Cultivate 
 no love of condiments, sauces and stimulants ; indulge 
 no ambition to excel in dressing salads, classifying 
 ragouts^ or in demonstrating, down to the nicety of 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 217 
 
 a single ingredient, the distinction between a home- 
 made and an imported pate de foie grds! Distinc- 
 tions such as these may suffice for the worn-out 
 society of a corrupt civilization, but our countrymen 
 • — ^MEN — should shout Excelsior ! 
 
 Abstract rules in relations to the houi*s proper for 
 taking meals, however carefully adapted to the secu- 
 rity of health, in themselves considered, must, of 
 necessity, give place to those artificially imposed by 
 custom and convenience. Thus, though the practice 
 of dining late is not sanctioned by Ilygeia, it admits 
 of question, whether, as the usages of the business- 
 world at present exists, it is not a wiser custom than 
 aiiy other permitted by circumstance. 
 
 All who have given any attention to the sub- 
 ject know, that neither bodily nor mental labor 
 can be either comfortably or successfully pursued 
 directly after a full meal. Hence, then, those whose 
 occupations require their attention during several 
 successive hours, may find the habit of dining after 
 the more imperative labore of the day are accom- 
 plished, most conducive to health as well as con- 
 venience. 
 
 Still, it should not be forgotten, that long absti- 
 nence is likely to produce the exhaustion that tella 
 so surely and seriously upon the constitution, of 
 young persons especially. This may be prevented 
 by taking, systematically, a little light, simple 
 nutriment, sufficient to produce what is aptly 
 termed the stimylua of distention in that much 
 
 10 
 
218 THE AMERICAN GENTLEMAn's GUIDE 
 
 abused organ — the stomach. This practice regularly 
 adhered to, will also promote a collateral advantage, 
 by acting as a security against the too keen sharp- 
 ening of appetite that tends to repletion in eating, 
 and which sometimes produces results similar to 
 those exhibited by a boa- constrictor after dining 
 upon a whole buffalo, swallowed without the pre- 
 vious ceremony of carving ! One should never dine 
 so heartily as to be unfitted for the subsequent 
 enjoyment of society, or of the lighter pursuits of 
 literature. Deliberate and thorough mastication will 
 more beneficially, and quite as pleasurably, prolong 
 the enjoyments of the table, as a more hurried 
 disposal of a large quantity of food. And really I 
 do not know how the most rigid economist of time, 
 or the most self-sacrificing devotee either of Mam- 
 mon or of Literature, can more judiciously devote 
 an hour of each day than to the single purpose of 
 dining ! 
 
 Happily for those whose self-respect does not 
 always furnish the sustaining power requisite for 
 the maintenance of a principle, fashion no longer 
 requires of any man the use of even wine^ much 
 less of stronger beverages. And with reference to 
 the use of all alcoholic stimulants, as well as of 
 tobacco, I would remind you that those only who are 
 not enslaved hy ajppetite, are fkee! If you have 
 acquired a liking for wine or tobacco, and would 
 abjure either, or both, you will soon be convinced, 
 by experiment, of the truth of Dr. Johnson's sayingi 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 219. 
 
 cf which, by the way, liis own life furnished a 
 striking illustration, that " abstinence is easier than 
 temperance.''^ 
 
 To prolong arguments against the habits of smok- 
 ing and drinking, were a work of supererogation, 
 here. I will advance but one, which may, possibly, 
 possess the merit of novelty. Both have the effect, 
 materially to limit our enjoyment of the presence 
 and conversation of 
 
 "Heaven's last, best gift to man I" 
 
 I cannot better dismiss this important topic than 
 by quoting the following passage from the writings 
 of Sir Walter Raleigh : 
 
 " Except tliou desire to hasten thy end, take this 
 for a general rule — that thou never add any artifi- 
 cial heat to thy body by wine or spice, until thou 
 find that time hath decayed thy natural heat; the 
 sooner thou dost begin to help nature the sooner she 
 will forsake thee, and leave thee to trust altogether 
 to art." 
 
 In my youth, advice to young men was constantly 
 commingled — whatever its general tenor — with ad- 
 monitions regarding the necessity for industry and 
 perseverance in those who would achieve worldly 
 success. In these utilitarian times, when all seem 
 borne along upon a resistless current, hurrying to 
 the attainment of some practical end, engrossed by 
 schemes of political ambition, or devoted to the 
 acquisition of . wealth, a quiet looker-on — as I am 
 wont to regard myself — is tempted to counsel 
 
THE AMERICAN GENTLEMAN S GUIDE 
 
 "moderation in all things," contentment with the 
 legitimate results of honorable effort, the cultivation 
 of habits of daily relaxation from the severity of 
 toil, of daily rest from the mental tension that is 
 demanded for successful competition in the arena of 
 life. 
 
 Tlie impression that sleejp is a sufficient restorative 
 from the wearing effects of otherwise ceaseless labor, 
 or that change of occujpation furnishes all the relief 
 that nature requires in this respect, is, undoubtedly, 
 erroneous. " The man," says an eminent student of 
 humanity, " who does not now allow himself two 
 hours for relaxation after dinner, will be compelled 
 to devote more time than that daily to the care of 
 his health, eventually." 
 
 To allow one's self to be so engrossed by any 
 pursuit, however laudable in itself, as to reserve no 
 leisure for the claims of Society, of Friendship, of 
 Taste, is so irrational as to need nothing but reflec- 
 tion to render it apparent. In a merely utilitarian 
 view, it is unwise, since, as u:Esop has demonstrated, 
 the bow that is never unbent soon ceases to be fit 
 for use ; but there is, surely, a higher consideration, 
 addressed to the reason of man. Pope embodies it, 
 in part, in the lines 
 
 " God is paid when man receives, 
 
 To enjoy is to obey /" 
 
 To ha've an aim, a purpose in life, sufficiently en- 
 grossing to act as an incentive to the exercise of all 
 the powers of being, is essential to heath and happi- 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 221 
 
 ness. But to pursue any one object to the exclu- 
 sion of all considerations for self-culture and intel- 
 lectual enjoyment, is destructive of everything 
 worthy that name. 
 
 They who devote all the exertions of youth and 
 manhood to the acquisition of political distinction, or 
 of gold, for instance — cherishing, meanwhile, a sort 
 of Arcadian dream of ultimately enjoying the plea- 
 sures of intellectual communion, or the charms of 
 the natural world, when the heat and burden of the 
 conflict of life shall be done — exhibit a most deplora- 
 ble ignorance of the truth that they will possess in 
 age only the crippled capacities that disuse has 
 almost wholly robbed of vitality, together with such 
 as are prematurely worn out by being habitually 
 overtaxed. 
 
 On the contrary, those who believe that 
 
 " It is not all of Ufe to live," 
 
 and early establish a true standard of excellence, and 
 acquaint themselves with the immutable laws of our 
 being, will so commingle self-ennobling pursuits and 
 enjoyments with industrious and well-directed atten- 
 tion to the needful demands of practical life, as to 
 secure as much of ever-present happiness as falls to 
 the lot of humanity, together with the enviable 
 retrospection of an exalted ambition, rightly fulfilled. 
 They may also hope for the invaluable possession of 
 intellectual and moral developments to be matured 
 in that state of existence of which this is but the 
 embryo. These are truisms, I admit, my young 
 
222 THE AMERICAN GENTLEMAn's GUIDE 
 
 friends, yet the spirit of the age impels their itera- 
 tion and re-iteration ! 
 
 Burke's musical periods lamented the departure 
 of the " age of chivalry." Would that one gifted as 
 he may revive the waning existence of the social 
 and domestic virtues, and inspire my young coun- 
 trymen with an ambition too lofty in its aspirations 
 to permit the sacrifice of mental and moral powers, 
 of natural affections, and immortal aspirations, upon 
 the altars of Mammon ! — shrines now yearly receiv- 
 ing from our country a holocaust of sacrifices, to 
 ■jvhich battle-fields are as naught in comparison. 
 
 But to return from this unpremeditated digression. 
 Katural tastes and individual circumstances must, 
 to a considerable extent, determine the relaxations 
 and amusements most conducive to enjoyment and 
 liealth. 
 
 You will scarcely need to be told that persons of 
 sedentary habits, and especially those devoted to 
 literary occupations, should make exercise in the 
 cypen air a daily recreation, and that it will best 
 subserve the purposes of pleasure and health when 
 united with the advantages arising from cheerful 
 coTTvpanionship. 
 
 Hence the superiority of walking, riding, driving, 
 boating, and sporting in its various forms, to all in- 
 door exercises and amusements — and especially to 
 those tending rather to tax the brain than exercise 
 the body — for those whose mental powers are most 
 taxed by their avocations. 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 223 
 
 On tlie other hand, there are those to whom the 
 Hghter investigations of literature and science afford 
 the most appropriate relief from the toils of business. 
 
 Permit me, however, to enter my protest against 
 the belief that a change from the labors and duties 
 of city life to the close sleeping-rooms, the artificial- 
 ity and excitement of a fashionable watering-place 
 affords a proper and healthful relief to a weary body 
 and an overwrought brain. Life at a watering- 
 place is no more an equivalent for the pure air, the 
 simple habits, the wholesome food, the repose of 
 mind and hearty afforded by unadulterated country 
 life, than immersion in a bathing-tub is a satisfac- 
 tory substitute for swimming in a living stream, or 
 a contemplation of the most exquisite picture of 
 rural scenes, for a glorious canter amid green fields 
 and over breezy hills ! !N"or will dancing half the 
 night in heated rooms, late suppers, bowling-alleye 
 and billiards, not to speak of still more objectionable 
 indulgences, restore these devotees to study or busi- 
 ness, to their city-homes re-invigorated for renewed 
 action, as will the least laborious employments of the 
 farmer, the " sportive toil " of the naturalist, the 
 varied enjoyments of the traveller amid the won- 
 ders of our vast primeval forests, or of the voyager 
 who explores the attractions of our unrivalled chain 
 of inland lakes. People who do their thinking by 
 proxy, and regulate their enjoyments by the on dii 
 of the fashionable world, yearly spend money enough 
 at some crowded resort of the leaii, monde (heavec 
 Bave the mark !) to -enable them to make the tour of 
 
224 
 
 Europe, or buy a pretty villa and grounds in the 
 country, or do some deed " twice blessed," in that 
 " it blesseth him that gives and him that takes." 
 In Scotland, in England, in the l!^orth of Europe gene- 
 rally, men and women whose social position neces- 
 sarily involves refinement of habits and education, 
 go, in little congenial parties, into the mountains 
 and among the lakes, visit spots renowned in song 
 and story, collect specimens of the wonders of na- 
 ture, " camp out," as they say at the West, eat sim- 
 ply, dress rationally — in short, really rusticate^ in 
 happy independence alike of the thraldom of fashion 
 and the supremacy of convention. Thus in the Old 
 World, among the learned, the accomplished, the 
 high-born. Here in Young America — let the sallow 
 cheek, the attenuated limbs, the dull eye and hlase 
 air of the youthful scions of many a noble old Revo- 
 lutionary stock, attest only too truly, a treasonous 
 slavery to the most arbitrary and remorseless of 
 tyrants ! Would that they may serve, at least, as 
 beacons to warn you, seasonably, against adding 
 yourselves to the denizens of haunts where 
 
 " Unwieldly wealth, and cumbrous pomp repose ; 
 And every want to luxury allied, 
 Aad every pang th&t folly pat/s to pride ^ 
 
 1 would that all my young countrymen might 
 have looked upon the last hours of my revered 
 friend, John Quincy Adams, and thus learned the 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 
 
 impressive lessons taught by that solemn scene ; 
 lessons that — to use his own appropriate language — 
 
 " bid us seize the moments as they pass, 
 
 Snatch the retrieveless sun-beam as it flies, 
 Nor lose one sand of life's revolving glass — 
 Aspiring still, with energy sublime, 
 By virtuous deeds to give Eternity to Time /"* 
 
 It was, indeed, a fitting close of his long, noble 
 life ! Faithful to his duty to his country, he main- 
 tained his post to the last, and fell, like a true de- 
 fender of liberty — renouncing his weapons only with 
 his life. Borne from the arena of senatorial strife to 
 a couch hastily prepared beneath the same roof that 
 had so often echoed his words of dauntless elo- 
 quence, attended by mourning friends, and receiv- 
 ing the tender ministrations of the companion alike 
 of his earlier and later manhood, the flickering lamp 
 of life slowly expired. After, apparently, reviewing 
 the lengthened retrospection of a temperate, rational, 
 useful life, from the boyish years 
 
 ' Whose distant footsteps echoed through the corridors of Time,' 
 
 to the dying efforts of genius and patriotism, the 
 hushed stillness of that hallowed chamber at length 
 rendered audible the sublime words — "It is the 
 
 LAST OF EaETh! I AM CONTENT 1" 
 
 * Concluding lines of Mr. Adams' "Address to the Sun-JHal 
 under the window of the Hall of the House of Representatives." 
 
 10* 
 
226 
 
 * 1 think it was during the administration of Sir 
 diaries Bagot, the immediate successor of Lord 
 Durham, as Governor General of the Canadas, that I 
 had the pleasure to dine one day, at the house of a 
 distiuguished civilian who held office under him, in 
 
 company wdth the celebrated traveller L , and 
 
 his friend, the well-known E G "W , a 
 
 man who, despite wealth, rank, and talent, paid a 
 life-long penalty for a youthful error. There were, 
 also, present several members of the Provincial Par- 
 liament, then in session at Kingston, which was, at 
 that time, the seat of government, and a number of 
 ladies — those of the party of Americans with whom 
 I was travelling, and some others. 
 
 The conversation, very naturally, turned upon the 
 national peculiarities o^ the Yankees — as the English 
 call, not the inhabitants of New England alone, but 
 the people of the ISTorth American States generally — 
 in consequence of the fact that the world-wide travel- 
 ler had just completed his first visit to our country. 
 Some one asked him a leading question respecting 
 his impressions of us as a people, and more than one 
 good-humored sally was given and parried among 
 
 us. At length L said, so audibly and gravely as 
 
 to arrest the attention of the whole company : 
 
 " I have really but two serious faults to charge 
 upon Jonathan." 
 
 " May we be permitted to inquire what those are !* 
 returned I. 
 
TO 'rOLn-ENESS AND FASniON. 227 
 
 " That he repudiates his debts^ and doesn't take 
 time to cat his dinner ^ 
 
 When the general laugh had subsided, Mr. W 
 
 remarked that, except when at the best hotels in 
 the larger cities, he had found less inducement for 
 dining deliberately in the United States than in most 
 civilized lands he had visited, in consequence of the 
 prevalent bad cookery. 
 
 "The wof-ds of Goldsmith," said he,— 
 
 "'Heaven sends us good meat, but the devil sends cooks!' 
 
 were always present to my mind when at table 
 there! Tliey eschew honest cold roast beef, as 
 though there were poison in meat but once cooked, 
 served a second time, though Hamlet is authority for 
 our taste in that respect. — ^The cold venison you did 
 me the honor to compliment so highly, at lunch, this 
 
 morning, L , would have been offered you fried 
 
 by our good Yankee cousins !" 
 
 "The patron saint of la cuisi7ie forefend!" cried 
 a smooth-browed Englishman — " not re-cooked, I 
 hope?" 
 
 " Assuredly !" returned W — — , " I trust these ladies 
 and Colonel Lunettes will pardon me, — but such infa- 
 mous stupidity is quite common. I soon learned, how- 
 ever, the secret of preserving my "capacious stomach " 
 in unimpaired capacity for action, [an irresistibly 
 
228 THE AMERICAN GENTLEMAn's 'GUIDE 
 
 comic glance downward upon his portly person] and 
 could, I thought, very readily explain— 
 
 * What is't that takes from them 
 Their stomach, pleasures, and their golden sleep, 
 Why they do bend their eyes upon the earth, 
 
 ******* 
 In thick ey'd musing and curs'd melancholy !'" 
 
 If the frank denunciations of this eccentric 
 observer of life and manners might otherwise have 
 been regarded as impolite, his more severe comments 
 upon his own countrymen proved, at least, that no 
 national partiality swayed his judgment. 
 
 I remember his tellirrg me the following anecdote, 
 as we chatted over our coffee, after joining the ladies 
 in the evening: — In answer to some inquiry on my 
 part, respecting the social condition of the people — 
 the peasantry, as he called them, of the Provinces, 
 he spoke in unmitigated condemnation of their igno- 
 rance, and especially of their insolence and boorish- 
 ness. " Get L to tell you," said he, " how near- 
 ly he and his servants were frozen to death one fierce 
 night, while an infernal gate-keeper opposed his 
 road-right. Then, again, the other morning, Mi*s. 
 
 M (our hostess) who like every other lady 
 
 here, except, perhaps. Lady Bagot, goes to market 
 every day, was referred by a man, from whom she 
 inquired for potatoes, to an old crone, with the words 
 ■ — ' This lady sell them, — here is a woman who wants 
 to buy potatoes !' " 
 
 The following morning, while our American party 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 229 
 
 were driving out to the superb Fort that protects the 
 Harbor of Kingston, to visit which we had been 
 politely furnished with a permit by an official friend, 
 I endeavored to draw from a very charming and 
 accomplished lady the secret of her unusual silence 
 and reserve at dinner the evening before. She is 
 really a celebrity, as much for her remarkable con- 
 versational powers, as for any other reason, perhaps, 
 and I had, therefore, the more regretted her not 
 joining in the conversation. 
 
 " What made the mystery more difficult of solu- 
 tion," said one of the other ladies, " was the equally 
 imperturbable gravity of that handsome Frenchman 
 who sat beside Yirginia." 
 
 "Handsome !" retorted Yirginia, " do you call that 
 man handsome ! — his high cheek bones and swarthy 
 complexion show his Indian blood rather too plainly 
 for my taste, I must confess." 
 
 " That commingling of races is very common here, 
 
 Yirginia," said I, " Mr. E is a somewhat pro 
 
 minent member of the Canadian Parliament. I heard 
 a speech from him, in French, yesterday morning, 
 which was listened to with marked attention. There 
 were a number of ladies in the side-hoxes^ too, and 
 it is evident from his attention to his dress, if for no 
 other reason, that Mr. E is an elegant P^ 
 
 " All that may be," rejoined Yirginia, " but I have 
 no fancy for light blue * unwhisperables,' as Tom 
 calls them, nor for ruffled shirts !" 
 
 " 'A change has come o'er the spirit of your dream, 
 most queenly daughter of the 'sunny South!' — ia 
 
230 THE AMERICAN GENTLEMAN'S GUIDE 
 
 this the sprightly Americaine who won all hearts the 
 other day on the St. Lawrence, — from that magnifi- 
 cent British officer, to the quiet old priest whose very 
 
 beard seemed to laugh, at least " 
 
 " That, indeed. Col. Lunettes ! — but for your ever- 
 ready gallantry I would exclaim — 
 
 " ' Man delights me not, nor woman either!' 
 
 but here we are at the entrance of the famous don- 
 jon keep !" 
 
 We spent some time in examiniDg the — to the 
 ladies — novel attractions of the place. By-and-by, the 
 fair Yirginia, who had strayed oft' a little by herself, 
 called to me to come and explain the mode of using a 
 port-hole to her. In a few minutes, she said, in a low 
 tone, sitting down, as she spoke upon a dismounted 
 cannon, " Col. Lunettes, I beg you not to allude again 
 to that — to the dinner, yesterday, or, at least, to my 
 embarrassment " 
 
 " Your embarrassment, my dear girl !" I exclaim- 
 ed, " you astonish me ! Do explain yourself" — 
 
 "Hush," returned my companion, looking furtive- 
 ly over her shoulder, " that young Englishman seems 
 to be engrossing the attention of the rest of the party, 
 and, perhaps, I shall have time to tell you " 
 
 "Do, my dear, if anything has annoyed you — • 
 Burely so old a friend may claim your confidence." 
 
 " I have heard of the * son of a gun,' " replied 
 she, evidently making a strong effort to recall the 
 natural sprightliness that seemed so singularly to 
 have deserted her of late ; " I don't see why I am 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 231 
 
 not tlie daughter of a gun^ at this moment, and so 
 entitled to be very brave ! But about this Mr. 
 
 E , Colonel," she almost whispered, bending her 
 
 head so as to screen her face from my observation. 
 
 "You know Mrs. M called for me the other 
 
 morning to go and walk with her alone, because, as 
 she said, she wanted to talk a little about old times, 
 
 when we were in the convent school at C-^ 
 
 together. "Well, as we came to a little "shop," as 
 she styled it — a hardware store, we should say — she 
 begged me to go in with her a moment, w^hile she 
 gave some directions about a hall-stove, saying, with 
 an apology : " We wives of government officers 
 here, do all these things, as a matter of course." 
 While she walked back in the place, I very natu- 
 rally remained near the door, amusing myself by 
 observing w^hat was passing in the street. Pre- 
 sently, a fine horse arrested my eye, as he came 
 prancing along. His rider seemed to have some ado 
 to control him, as I thought, at first, but I suddenly 
 became aware that he was endeavoring to stop him, 
 in mid career, and that, when he succeeded — he — I 
 — there was no mistaking it — his glance almost petri- 
 fied me, in short, and I had only just power to tnm 
 quickly in search of Mrs. M ." 
 
 The slight form of the speaker quivered visibly, 
 and she paused abruptl3^ 
 
 " Why, my poor child," said I, soothingly, " never 
 mind it ! How can you allow such a thing to dis- 
 tress you in this way ?" 
 
 "If anything of the kind had ever happened to me 
 
before, I should have thought it my fault, in some 
 way ; but when I got back to our hotel, and 
 reviewed the whole matter, and — but there come 
 the rest of the party " — she added, hurriedly. " Do 
 you wonder now at my manner at the dinner ? I 
 knew his face the moment the man entered the din- 
 ing room ; and when Mr. M introduced him, and 
 
 requested him to conduct me, the burning glow that 
 flashed over his swarthy brow convinced me that 
 he, too, recognized me. I would sooner have 
 encountered a basilisk than your elegant, parlia- 
 mentary Frenchman !" 
 
 " Doctor, what may I eat ?" inquired a dyspeptic 
 American, who had just received a prescription 
 from Abernethy — the eccentric and celebrated Eng- 
 lish physician. 
 
 '^Eatr^ thundered the disciple of Galen, ''nhe 
 poker and tongs, if yj>u will cJi&w them wellP'' 
 
 What a commingling of nations and characters 
 there was in the little party of which I made one, 
 on a serene evening, lang-syne, at Constantinople ! 
 We floated gently over the placid bosom of the 
 sunset-tinted Golden Horn, rowed by four stout 
 Mussulmans, and bound for that point of the shore of 
 tj^.c Marmora nearest the suburb of Ezonb where 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 235 
 
 horses awaited us for a brisk canter of some miles 
 
 back to the city. There were, Lord , an English 
 
 nobleman ; a Hungarian refugee ; a Yankee sea- 
 captain ; a dark-eyed youth from one of the Greek 
 Islands; and myself — men severed by birth and edu- 
 cation from communion of thought and feeling, yet 
 united, for the moment, by a similarity of purpose ; 
 associated by the subtle influence of circumstance, 
 into a serene commingling of one common nature, 
 and capacitated for the interchange of impressions 
 and ideas, at least in an imperfect degree, through 
 the medium of a strange jargon, compounded origi- 
 nally of materials as varied as the native languages 
 of the several individuals composing the group in 
 our old Turkish Caique^ which may have been, for 
 aught we knew, the identical one that followed 
 Byron in his Leander-swim ! 
 
 The conversation naturally partook in character of 
 the scene before us : — ^Near, towered the time-stained 
 walls of the Seraglio— so long the cradling-place 
 of successive Sultans, and then furnishing the em- 
 bryo of the voluptuous pleasures of their anticipated 
 paradise. Beyond, rose the ruin-crowned heights, 
 the domes and minarets of old Stamboul, rich in his- 
 toric suggestions, glowing now in the warmly-linger- 
 ing smile of the departing day-god, 
 
 " Not, as in Northern climes, obscurely bright, 
 But one unclouded blaze of living light !" 
 
 Before us, in our way over the crystal watera. 
 
234 
 
 loomed up the gloomy, verdure-draped turrets of tlio 
 " Irde Koule " of this oft-rebelling and oft-conquered 
 seat of Oriental splendor and imperial power. As 
 with the " Tower " of London, the mere sight of this 
 now silent and deserted castle, conjured up recollec- 
 tions replete with deeds of wild romance, and darker 
 scenes of blood and crime. Around us flowed the 
 waters whose limpid depths had so oft received the 
 sack-shrouded form of helpless beauty, when mid- 
 night blackness rivalled the horror of the foul murder 
 it veiled forever from mortal ken. Argosies and 
 fleets had been borne upon these waves, whose 
 names or whose conflicts were of world-wide renown 
 • — from the mythical adventurers of the Golden- 
 Fleece to the triumphant squadrons of the Osmanlis, 
 all seemed to float before the eye of fancy ! 
 
 From the broken sentences that, for some time, 
 seemed most expressive of the contemplative mood 
 engendered both by our surroundings and by the 
 placidity of the hour, there gradually arose a some- 
 what connected discussion of the present condition 
 of the Ottoman Porte. 
 
 It is not my purpose to inflict upon you a de- 
 tailed report of our discourse ; but only to relate, 
 for your amusement, a fragment of it, which some- 
 how has, strangely enough, floated upwards from 
 the darkened waters of the past, with sufiicient dis- 
 tinctness to be snatched from the oblivion to which 
 its utter insignificance might properly consign it. 
 
 "There is not," said the British noble — a man 
 curious in literature, and a somewhat speculative 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 235 
 
 observer of life — " there is not a single purely lite- 
 rary production in the Turkish language, written by 
 a living author; not a poem, nor romance, nor essay. 
 The Koran would almost seem to constitute their all 
 of earthly lore and heavenly aspiration. What an 
 anomaly in the biography of modern peoples!" 
 
 This last sentence was addressed especially to the 
 sea-captain and me, the idiomatical English in which 
 the passing fancy of the speaker found expression 
 being wholly unintelligible to all except ourselves. 
 
 "Their total want of a national literature," said 
 the American, " does not so materially affect my 
 comfort, I must confess, as the utter absence of 
 decent civilization in their renowned capital. For 
 instance, they have not an apology for a night-police 
 in their confoundedly dark streets, except the infernal 
 dogs that infest them. The other night, return- 
 ing to my quarters, with my 'Ibrahim' pilot in 
 front with a lantern, I was persuaded, as one of these 
 ' faithful guardians ' fastened his glistening ivories 
 in my boot-top, that, like one of your ' lone stars ' at 
 ISTew York, Colonel Lunettes, he had ' mistaken his 
 man,' and supposed me to be the returned spirit of 
 some one of the countless throng of infidel dogs, upon 
 whom his public education had instructed him to 
 make war to — the teeth .^" 
 
 " Ha, ha, ha !" laughed the Greek, in tones as 
 musical as his dress and attitude were picturesque, 
 from the pile of boat cloaks upon which he reposed 
 in the bow of the boat, and opening his dark eyes till 
 one saw far down into the dreamy depths of his 
 
236 
 
 half-slumbering soul through his quick-lit orbs. He 
 had caught enough of the sen^e of the captain's Don- 
 sense, to imagine the joke to the full. " Ha, ha, 
 ha !" laughed he, again, and the shadowy walls of 
 the blood-stained " Chateau of Seven Towers," by 
 which we were gliding, gave back the clear, clarion- 
 like tone ; " but, while this brave ^Z^ de la mer * thus 
 sports with the terrors of my country's enslaver 
 [here a frown, deep, dark, threatening, and a quick 
 clenching of the jewelled handle of the yataghan ho 
 wore in his belt], the gates of fair Stamboul will 
 close, and nor foe, nor Frank, nor friend, be given to 
 the dogs." 
 
 *' By thunder !" shouted the American, shaking 
 himself up, as if at sea, with a suspicious sail in 
 sight, " he is more than half right. "Would you have 
 thought it so late ?" 
 
 " Even a Yankee, like Captain , a fair repre- 
 sentative of the 'univeral nation,' learns to dream 
 and linger here," responded the Englishman, good- 
 humoredly. 
 
 Upon this, I made use of the little knowledge I 
 possessed of the Turkish, to interrogate our Caidjis 
 respecting the time further required to reach our 
 landing-place. 
 
 " Allah is great, and Mohammed is his Prophet !" 
 was all I could fully apprehend of his slowly-deli- 
 vered reply. 
 
 It was now the captain's turn to laugh, and as his 
 
 • Son of the sea. 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 237 
 
 Bonorous peal rippled over the Marmora, lie quietly 
 insinuated liis fore-finger and thumb into the disen- 
 gaged palm of the devout Mussulman I had so 
 touchingly adjured. 
 
 The only response of the devotee of the Prophet 
 was a gutteral repetition of " Pekee ! good I pekee ! 
 pekee !" But by an influence as effective as it was 
 mysterious, our swan-like movement was exchanged 
 for a most hope-encouraging velocity. 
 
 " Bravo !" exclaimed my lord. 
 
 " Bravissima !" intonated the Hun. 
 
 " Go it, boys !" shouted the " old salt." 
 
 "By the soul of Mithridates and the deeds of 
 Thermopolse !" chimed in the scion of the " isles of 
 Greece," catching the instinctively-intelligible conta- 
 gion of the sportive moment. 
 
 " And what said Uncle Hal ?" you wonder, per- 
 haps. Oh, I was listening to the low, melancholy, 
 semi-howl in which the imperturbable Moslems were 
 slowly chanting '' Giizal! pek guzal P^^ as they 
 turned their dull eyes lingeringly towards their fast- 
 receding mosques and minarets. 
 
 But, meeting the questioning glances of my com- 
 panions, as their mirth began to subside, I contri- 
 buted my humble quota to the general stock of fun, 
 by saying, with extreme gravity of voice and man- 
 ner : 
 
 " When will wonders cease in the Golden Horn ! 
 At first, even its unquestionable antiquity did not 
 
 * My beautiful ! my most beautiful I 
 
238 THE AMERICAN GENTLEMAn's GUIDE 
 
 redeem this vessel from my contempt — now I con- 
 sider it an ' irresistible duck P — and I wish, more- 
 over, to publish my conviction that, though barba- 
 rous in matters of literature and art, the Turks im- 
 pressively teach their boastful superiors a religious 
 respect for cleanliness ^ 
 
 I remember to have been singularly impressed, 
 when I read it, with an anecdote somewhat as fol- 
 lows : 
 
 As too frequently happens on such occasions, a 
 discussion in relation to some insignificant matter, 
 into which a large party of men, who had dined to- 
 gether, and were lingering late over their wine, had 
 fallen, gradually increased in vehemence and obsti- 
 nacy of opinion, imtil frenzied excitement ruled 
 the hour. 
 
 " From words they almost came to blows, 
 When luckily " 
 
 the attention of one of the most furious of the dispu 
 tants was suddenly arrested by the appearace of one ot 
 the gentlemen present. There was no angry flush on 
 his brow, no " laughing devil " in his eye, and he sat 
 quietly regarding the scene before him, serene and 
 self-possessed as when he entered the apartment 
 hours before. His astonished companion inquired 
 the cause of such placidity, in the midst of anger 
 and turbulence. 
 
TO POLITENESS AlO) FASHION. 239 
 
 The gentleman pointed, with a smile, to a half- 
 empty water-bottle beside him, and replied : '^ While 
 the rest of the company have been industriously 
 occupied in endeavoring to drown the distinctive 
 attribute of man — reason — I have preserved its su- 
 premacy by simply confining myself to a non- intoxi- 
 cating beverage." 
 
 I trust you will not think the following somewhat 
 quaint verses, from the pen of an old and now almost 
 forgotten poet, a mal-d-jprojpos conclusion to this 
 letter : 
 
 THE YOUTH AND THE PHILOSOPHER 
 
 A Grecian youth, of talents rare, 
 Whom Plato's philosophic care 
 Had formed for Virtue's nobler view, 
 By precept and example too, 
 Would often boast his matchless skill 
 To curb the steed, and guide the wheel ; 
 And as he passed the gazing throng 
 With graceful ease, and smack'd the thong, 
 The idiot wonder they expressed, 
 Was praise and transport to his breast. 
 
 At length, quite vain, he needs would show 
 
 His master what his art could do ; 
 
 And bade his slaves the chariot lead 
 
 To Academus' sacred shade. 
 
 The trembling grove conlessed its fright. 
 
 The wood-nymphs started at the sight ; 
 
 The Muses drop the learned lyre, 
 
 And to their inmost shades retire. 
 
 Howe'er, the youth, with forward air, 
 
 Bows to the Sage, and mounts the car; 
 
 J 
 
24:0 THE AMERICAN GENTLEMAn's QVUm 
 
 The lash resounds, the coursers spring, 
 The chariot marks the rolling ring ; 
 And gathering crowds, with eager eyes, 
 And shouts, pursue him as he flies. 
 
 Triumphant to the goal returned, 
 With nobler thirst his bosom burned ; 
 And now along the indented plain 
 The self-same track he marks again ; 
 Pursues with care the nice design, 
 Nor ever deviates from the line. 
 Amazement seized the circling crowd ; 
 The youths with emulation glowed ; 
 E'en bearded sages hailed the boy, 
 And all but Plato gazed with joy. 
 
 For he, deep-judging sage, beheld 
 
 With pain the triumph of the field : 
 
 And when the charioteer drew nigh. 
 
 And, flushed with hope, had caught his eya^ 
 " Alas ! unhappy youth," he cried, 
 " Expect no praise from me," (and sighed) ; 
 " With indignation I survey 
 
 Such skill and Judf/ment thrown away : 
 
 Th^ time profusely squandered there 
 
 On vulgar arts^ beneath thy care. 
 
 If well employed, at less expense. 
 
 Had taught thee Honor, Virtue, Sense ; 
 
 And raised thee from a coachman's fate^ 
 
 To govern men, and guide tJte stateJ'^ 
 
 One seldom finds a nicer selection of words than 
 those of the last lines of these admonitory stanzas. 
 With the wish that they may gratify your literary 
 acumen, I am, as ever, 
 
 Tour faithful friend, 
 
 Harry Lunettes. 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 2il 
 
 LETTER YHI. 
 
 LETTER-WRITING 
 
 My i>KAR Nephews: 
 
 There is, perhaps, no form of composition 
 with which it is as desirable to be practically fami- 
 liar, and in which all educated persons should be 
 accomplished, as that of letter-writing* yet no 
 branch of an elegant education is more frequently 
 neglected. Consequently, the grossest errors, and 
 the utmost carelessness, are tolerated in regard to it. 
 Rhetorical faults, and even ungrammatical expres- 
 sions, are constantly overlooked, and illegibility has 
 almost come to be regarded as an essential character- 
 istic. 
 
 Following the homely rule of the lightning-tamer, 
 that " nothing i^ worth doing at all that is not worth 
 doing well^"^ you will not need argument to convince 
 you ef the propriety of attention to this subject, 
 while forming habits of life. 
 
 Different occasions and subjects require, of course, 
 as various styles of epistolary composition. Thus 
 the laconic language adapted to a formal business 
 letter, would be wholly unsuited to one of friend- 
 ship ; and the playfulness that might be appropriate 
 
 11 
 
242 THE AMERICAN GENTLEMAn's GUIDE 
 
 in a congratulatory communication, would be quite 
 out of place in a letter of condolence. 
 
 While it is impossible that any general rules can 
 be laid down that will be always applicable in indi- 
 vidual cases, a few directions of universal applica- 
 tion may, not inappropriately, be introduced in con- 
 nection with our present purpose. 
 
 The principal requisites oi Letters of Business are, 
 inteUigibilityj legibility^ and brevity . To secure the 
 first of these essentials, a clear, concise, expressive 
 selection of language is required. Each word and 
 sentence should express exactly and unequivocally 
 the idea intended to be conveyed, and in characters 
 that will not obscure the sense by doubtful legibility, 
 A legible hand should certainly be as essential as 
 intelligible utterance. We pity the man who by 
 stammering, or stuttering, not only taxes the time 
 and patience of his hearers, but leaves them, at 
 times, uncertain of his meaning, despite their efforts 
 to comprehend him. What, then, is the misfor- 
 tune of those who, like the most genial of wits, 
 ' decline to read their own writing, after it is twen- 
 ty-four hours old !' Do not, I pray you, let any 
 absurd impression respecting the excusableness of 
 this defection the score that genius is superior to the 
 trifles of detail^ etc., lead you either into carelessness 
 or indifference on the subject. Few men have the 
 excuse of possessing the dangerous gift of genius, and 
 to affect the weaknesses by which it is sometimes 
 accompanied, is equally silly and contemptible. A 
 man of sense will aim at attaininoj a true standard 
 
TO rOLITENESS AND FASHION. 243 
 
 of right, not at caricaturing a defective modeL 
 Depend upon it, a good husiness-hand is no small 
 recommendation to young men seeking employment 
 in any of the occupations of li*fe. The propriety of 
 hrevity in letters of business, wil. at once commend 
 itself to your attention. Time — the wealth of the 
 busy — ^is thus saved for two parties. But remember, 
 I repeat, that, while this precious treasure is best 
 secured by expressing what you wish to communi- 
 cate in as few words as possible, nothing is gained 
 by leaving your precise meaning doubtful, by un- 
 authorized abbreviations, confused sentences, or the 
 omission of any essential — as a date, address, propei 
 signature, important question, or item of informa- 
 tion. Let me add, that rapidity of mechanical exe- 
 cution is of no mean importance in this regard. 
 
 Letters of Introduction should be so expressed as 
 to aiford the reader a clue to the particular purpose 
 of the bearer in desiring his acquaintance, if any 
 such there be. This will prevent the awkwardness 
 of a personal explanation, and furnish a convenient 
 theme for the commencement of a conversation be- 
 tween strangers. Thus, if it be simply a friend, tra- 
 velling in search of pleasure and general information, 
 whom you wish to commend to the general civilities 
 of another friend, some such form as the following 
 will suffice : 
 
 My dear Sir : 
 
 Allow me the pleasure of introducing to 
 you my friend, Mr. , a gentleman wbose 
 
244 
 
 intelligence and acquirements render his acquaint- 
 ance an acquisition to all who are favored with his 
 
 society. Mr. visits your city [or town, or part 
 
 of the country, or, your celebrated city, or, your en- 
 terprising town, or your far-famed State, etc.] merely 
 as an observant traveller. Such attentions as it may 
 be agreeable to you to render him will oblige 
 Your sincere friend, 
 
 and obedient servant, 
 
 To Hon. 
 
 When you wish to write a letter oi introduction 
 for a person seeking a situation in business, a place 
 of residence, scientific information, or the like ; 
 briefly, but distinctly, state this to your correspondent, 
 together with any circumstance creditable to the 
 bearer, or which it will be advantageous to him to 
 have known, which you can safely venture to avouch. 
 (No one is in any degree bound by individual regard 
 to impair his reputation for probity or veracity in 
 this, or any other respect.) 
 
 A letter introducing an Artist, a Lecturer, etc., 
 should contain some allusion to the professiopal 
 reputation of the bearer— thus : 
 
 My dear "Williamson: 
 
 This will be presented to you by our dis- 
 tinguished countryman, Mr. — — , who prO' 
 
 poses a brief visit to your enterprising city, chiefly 
 for professional purposes. It affords me great plea- 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 24:5 
 
 Bure to be the means of securing to friends whom I 
 so highly value, the gratification I feel assured you 
 
 and Mr. will derive from knowing each other. 
 
 With the best wishes for your mutual success and 
 liappiness, I am, my dear sir, 
 
 Yery truly yours, 
 
 To , Esq. 
 
 In the instance of a celebrity, occupying at the 
 time a space in the world's eye, something like this 
 will suffice : 
 
 Boston, August Ist^ 1863. 
 
 My dear Friend: 
 
 It gives me pleasure to present to your 
 acquaintance a gentleman from whose society you 
 
 cannot fail to derive high enjoyment. Mr. [or 
 
 the Hon. , or Gen. ]* needs no eulogy 
 
 * Always be scrupulously careful to give titles, and with accuracy. 
 The proper designation of a gentleman not in office, is— Esquire. 
 (This, of course, should not be given to a tradesman, or menial) 
 That of a judge, member of Congress, mayor of a city, member of a 
 State legislature, etc., etc., is — Honorable ; that of a clergyman — • 
 Reverend; that of a bishop — Right Reverend. You are, of course, 
 familiar with the proper abbreviations for these titles. In writing 
 the address of a letter, it is desirable to know the Christian name of 
 the person to whom it is to be directed. Thus, if a physician, 
 ♦♦ Charles Jones, M. D.," is better than " Dr. Jones." So, " Dr, 
 De Lancey," or " Bishop Potter," are obviously improper. The cor- 
 rect form to be used in this instance, is: 
 *♦ To the 
 
 ''Right Rev. Alomo Potter^ D, i)." 
 
2^ 
 
 of mine to render his reputation familiar to you, 
 identified as it is with the literature of our country 
 [or the scientific fame, or the eloquence of the pul- 
 pit, etc.] Commending my friend to your courtesy, 
 believe me, my dear Jones, 
 
 Truly your friend and servant. 
 
 Kev. 
 
 Letters of introduction should always be unsealed^ 
 and, as a rule, should relate only to the affairs of the 
 bearer, not even passingly to those of the writer or 
 his correspondent. When it is desirable to write 
 what cannot, for any reason, be properly introduced 
 into the open letter, a separate and sealed communi- 
 
 The proper address of a J/itms^er representing our government 
 
 abroad, is — "the Honorable , Minister for the TJ. S. of 
 
 America, near the Court of St. James, or St. Cloud," etc. That of a 
 Charge (T Affaires^ or Consul, etc., varies with their respective offices. 
 A. Charge d Affaires is sometimes familiarly spoken of as " Our 
 Dhargk^'* at such a Court — or as the '"'• American Charged 
 
 A clergyman may be addressed as " Rev. Mr. ," if you do not 
 
 know the first name, or initial^ and so may a doctor of divinity ; 
 but in the latter case it would, perhaps, be better to write — " Rev. 
 Dr. James," — though the more accurate mode will still be, if attain- 
 able, " Rev. William James, D.D." 
 
 Gentlemen of the Army and Navy should always be designated by 
 their proper titles, and it is well not to be ignorant that a man in 
 either of these professions, when 
 
 " He hath got his sword . . . 
 And seems to know the use on't," 
 
 may not like to be reminded that the slow promotion he has attained 
 is unknown to his friends ! 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION 247 
 
 cation may be written and sent, with a polite apo- 
 logy, or brief explanation, with the other. 
 
 When letters of introduction are delivered in per- 
 son, they should be sent by the servant who admits 
 you, together with your card, to the lady or gentle- 
 man to whom they are addressed, as the most con- 
 venient mode of announcing yourself, and the object 
 of your visit. 
 
 When you do not find the person you wish to see, 
 write your temporary address upon your card, as "At 
 the American Hotel" — "With Mrs. Henry, 22 
 Washington-st." — " At Hon. John Berkley's," etc. 
 Should you send your letter, accompany it by your 
 card 2C0iA jpresent address, and inclose both together 
 in an envelope directed to the person for whom 
 they are designed. When your stay is limited and 
 brief, it is suitable to add upon your card, together 
 with an accurate date — " For to-day," or, " To remain 
 but two or three days." And in case of any expla- 
 nation, or apology, or request being requisite, such 
 as you would have made in a 'personal interview, 
 write a note^ to be inclosed with the letter of presen- 
 tation. Every omission of these courtesies that may 
 occasion trouble, or inconvenience to others, is ill- 
 bred, and may easily serve to prejudice strangers 
 against you. 
 
 Sometimes it is well to make an appointment 
 through the card you leave, or send, with a letter, or 
 for a stranger whom you wish to meet, as — " At the 
 Globe Hotel, this emning^"^ with a date, or thus \ — 
 
248 
 
 "Will pay his respects to Mi's. , to-morrow 
 
 morning, with her permission." 
 
 A letter introducing a young man, still " unknown 
 to fame," to a lady of fashion, or of distinguished 
 social position, may be expressed somewhat in this 
 manner : 
 
 To 
 
 Mrs. Modish^* 
 
 No. 14 Belgrave Place^ 
 
 Charleston, S. C. 
 
 AsTOR House, New York, Jan. 21 th, 18G3. 
 
 Deab Madam : 
 
 Permit me to present to you my friend, 
 Mr. James Stuart — a gentleman whose polished 
 manners and irreproachable character embolden me 
 
 * It is etiquette to address communications to a lady according to 
 the style she adopts for her card. Thus, the elder of two married 
 ladies, bearing the same name and of the same family, may properly 
 
 designate herself simply as Mrs. , without any Christian name 
 
 (her position in society and the addition upon her card, of her locale 
 being supposed sufficient to identify her). The wives of her young- 
 est brother, or those of her sons, are then " Mrs. N. C. ," "Mrs. 
 
 Charles ," and so on. The eldest of a family of sisters is, 
 
 " Miss ," the younger are " Miss Nellie ^," " Miss Julia ," 
 
 etc. In writing to, or conversing with them, you thus individualize 
 them. But when you are upon ceremonious terms with them, in the 
 absence of the elder, you address one of the younger sisters, with 
 whom you are conversing, as " Miss ," only, omitting the indivi- 
 dualizing Christian name. Of course, when writing under such cir- 
 cumstances, a note of ceremony designed for the young ladies of a 
 
 family, collectively, should be addressed to " The Misses ;" and 
 
 if for one of them, alone, to " Miss ^," or, "Miss Mary Gt, ,' 
 
 as the case may be. 
 
TO POLITENESS AND lASHION. 249^ 
 
 to request for him the honor of an acquaintance with 
 even so fastidious and accomplished an arbiter of 
 fashion as yourself 
 
 Mr. Stuart will be able to give you all the inform- 
 ation you may desire respecting our mutual friends 
 and acquaintances in society here. 
 
 Do me the honor to make my very respectful 
 compliments to the Misses Modish, and to believe 
 me, dear madam, 
 
 Most respectfully. 
 
 Your friend and servant, 
 
 KoBERT B. Hawks. 
 Mrs. Modish. 
 
 Letters -presenting /'oreigners, should designate the 
 country and particular locality to which they belong, 
 as well as the purpose of their tour, as—" The Che- 
 valier Bonne, of Berne, Switzerland whose object in 
 visiting our young Republic is not only the wish to 
 compare our social and political institutions with 
 those of his own country, but the collection of speci- 
 mens and information respecting the Natural His-' 
 tory of the United States. Such assistance as you 
 may bo able to render my learned friend, in facili- 
 tating his particular researches, will confer a favor 
 upon me, my dear sir, which I shall ever gratefully 
 remember," etc., etc. 
 
 The subject of letters of introduction naturally 
 suggests that o^ personal introductions^ in relation to 
 which the grossest mistakes and the greatest care- 
 lessness are prevalent, even among well-bred people, 
 
 11* 
 
250 THE AMERICAN GENTLEMAn's GUIDE 
 
 In making persons acquainted with eacli other, 
 the form of words may vary almost with every 
 different occasion, bnt there are certain rules that 
 should never be overlooked, since they refer to con- 
 siderations of abstract propriety. 
 
 Younger persons and inferiors in social rank, 
 should, almost invariably, be presented to their se- 
 niors and superiors. Thus, one should not say — " Mr. 
 Smith, let me introduce Mr. Washington Irving to 
 you," but " Mr. Irving, will you allow me to intro- 
 duce Mr. John Smith to you ?" Or, " Permit me to 
 present Mr. Smith to you, sir," presupposing that 
 Mr. Smith does not need to be informed to whom he 
 is about to be introduced. It is difficult to express 
 upon paper the difference of signification conveyed 
 by the mode of intonating a sentence. " General 
 Scott, Mr. Jones," may be so pronounced as to pre- 
 sent the latter gentlemen to our distinguished coun- 
 tryman, in a simple, but admissible manner, or it 
 may ilhistrate the impropriety of naming a man of 
 mark to a person who makes no pretensions to social 
 equality with him. 
 
 Usually, men should be introduced to women, 
 upon the principle that precedence is always yielded 
 to the latter ; but, even in this case, an exception 
 may properly be made in the instance of an intro- 
 duction between a very young^ or, otherwise, wholly 
 unindividualized woman, and a man of high posi- 
 tion, or of venerable age. A half-playful variation 
 from the ordinary phraseology of this ceremony, 
 may sometimes be adopted, under such circum* 
 
TO roLrrENESs and fashion. 251 
 
 stances, with good taste, as— "This young lady desires 
 the pleasure of knowing you, sir — Miss Williams," 
 or, " Mr. Prescott, this is my niece. Miss Ada Byron 
 Robinson." 
 
 When there is a " distinction without a differ- 
 ence" between two persons, or when hospitality 
 interdicts your assuming to decide a nice point in 
 this regard, it may be waived by merely naming the 
 parties in such a way as to give precedence to 
 
 neither — thus : " Gentlemen, allow me — Mr. W , 
 
 Mr. Y ," or, " Gentlemen, allow me the pleasure 
 
 of making you known to each other," and then sim- 
 ply pronounce the names of the two persons. 
 
 By the way, let me call your attention to the 
 importance of an audibU and distinct enunciation 
 of names^ when assuming to make an introduction. 
 A quiet^ self-possessed manner^ and intelligibility 
 should be regarded as essential at such times. 
 
 When introducing persons wlio are necessarily 
 wholly imacquainted with each other's antecedents of 
 station or circumstance, it is eminently proper to add 
 a brief explanation, as — " Mr. Preudhomne, let me 
 introduce my brother-in-law. General Peters, — Mr. 
 Preudhomne, of Paris," or ; "Mrs. Blandon, with your 
 permission, I will present to you Seiior Abeuno, a 
 Spanish gentleman. Senior A. speaks French per- 
 fectly, but is unacquainted with our language ; " 
 or, " Mr. Smithson, this is my friend Mr. Brown, of 
 Philadelphia — like owv^oiYQQ^ a merchant ; " or, " My 
 dear, this is Captain Blevin, of the good ship Never 
 fiink, — Mrs. ^Nephews, sir." 
 
252 THE AMERICAN GENTLEMAn's GUmE 
 
 l^ever say " My wife," or " My daughter, or " My 
 Bister," " My father-in-law," or the like, without giv- 
 ing each their proper ceremonious title. How should 
 a stranger know whether your " daughter " is — 
 
 " Sole (laughter of your house and heart," 
 
 or Miss " Lucy," or " Belinda," the third or fourth in 
 the order of time, and, consequently, of precedence, 
 or what may chance to be the name of your father-in- 
 law, or half sister, etc., etc. 
 
 Well-bred people address each other by name, 
 when conversing, and hence the awkwardness occa- 
 sioned by this vulgar habit, which is only equalled 
 by that of speaking of your wife as " My wife,"* or 
 worse still, "my ladyP'' Is it not enough, when 
 your friends know that you are married, and are 
 perfectly familiar with your own name, to speak of 
 
 " Mrs. ," and to introduce them to the mistress 
 
 of your house by that designation ? 
 
 It is a solecism in good manners to suppose it un- 
 suitable to designate the members of your own family 
 by their proper titles under all circumstances that 
 would render it suitable and convenient to do so in 
 the instance of other persons. Never fall into the 
 
 * This reminds me of another habit that is becoming prevalent iu 
 this new land of ours — that of men's entering themselves upon the 
 Registers of Hotels, Ocean Steamers, etc., as " M. A. Timeson and 
 ladyV or, "Mr. G. Simpson and wife?'' What can possibly be the 
 objection to the good old established form of "Mr. and Mrs. M. A. 
 Timeson," or " George and Mrs. Simpson, or " Mr. G. Simpson. Mra. 
 and the Misses Simpson ?" 
 
TO rOLITENESS AND FASHION. 253 
 
 American peculiarity on this point, I entreat you. 
 
 Say — " My father, Dr. Y ," or " My sister, Miss 
 
 y ," "Mrs. Col. Y , my sister-in-law," or, 
 
 " My sister, Mrs. John Jenkins," with as scrupulous 
 a regard for rank and precedence, as though dealing 
 with strangers. Indeed, you virtually ignore all 
 personal considerations, while acting in a social 
 relation merely. 
 
 The rules of etiquette very properly interdict in- 
 discriminate introductions in general society. !N'o 
 one has a right to thrust the acquaintance of persons 
 upon each other without their permission, or, at least, 
 without some assurance that it will be agreeable to 
 them to know each other. Strangers meeting at the 
 house of a mutual friend, in a morning visit, or the 
 like, converse with each other, or join in the general 
 conversation without an introduction, which it is not 
 usual among fashionable people to give under such 
 circumstances. K you wish to present a gentleman 
 of your acquaintance to a lady, you first ask her per- 
 mission, either in person or by note, to take him to 
 her house, if she be married, or to do so at a party, 
 etc., where you may chance to meet her. In the 
 instance of a very young lady, propriety demands 
 your obtaining the consent of one of her parents 
 before adding to her list of male acquaintances, unless 
 you are upon such terms of intimacy with her family 
 and herself, as to render this superfluous; and so 
 with all your friends. It is better, however, even 
 where unceremoniousness is admissible, to err upon 
 the safer side. 
 
254 
 
 Among men, greater license maybe taken; but", 
 as a 'intle^ I repeat, persons are not introduced in tho 
 street, in pump-rooms, in the public parlors of hotels, 
 or watering-places, meeting incidentally at receptions 
 or at morning visits, etc. ; and not even when they 
 are your guests at large dinners, or soirees, without 
 their previous assent or request. 
 
 Of course, such rules, like all the laws of conven- 
 tion, are established and followed for convenience, 
 and should not be regarded, like those of the Medes 
 and Persians, as unchangeable. Good sense and good 
 feeling will vary them with the changes of cir- 
 cumstance. No amiable person, for instance, will 
 hesitate to set them aside for the observance of the 
 more imperative law of kindness, when associated 
 with those who are ignorant of their existence (as 
 many really excellent persons are), and would be 
 pained by their strict observance. ISTeither should 
 the most punctilious sticklers for form think it 
 necessary to make a parade of the mere letter of such 
 rules, at any time. It is the spirit we want, for the 
 j)romotion of social convenience and propriety. 
 
 Perhaps it may be as well in this connection as in 
 any other, to say a word about the matter of visiting 
 cards. 
 
 Fashion sanctions a variety of forms for this neces- 
 sary appendage. In Europe, it is very common to 
 affix the professional or political title to the name, as 
 
 " , Professor in the University of Heidel- 
 
 burg," or, " , Conseiller d'Etat," ; and an 
 
 Englishman in public life often has on his card the 
 
TO rOLITENESS AND FASHION. 255 
 
 cabalistic characters — "In H. M. S." — (in Her Majes- 
 ty's Service). Among the best-bred Americans, I 
 think the prevalent usage is to adopt the simfple sig* 
 nature^ as " Henry Wise," or to prefix the title of 
 Mr., as "Mr. Seward." Sometimes, — particularly 
 for cards to be used away from home — the place of 
 residence is also engraved in one corner below the 
 name.* 
 
 Europeans occasionally adopt the practice of hav- 
 ing the corners of the reverse side of their cards engra- 
 ven across with such convenient words as ''''Pour 
 dire Adieu " (to say good bye). " Congratulation'^'* 
 (to offer congratulations). '"''Pour affaire'''* (on an 
 errand, or on business). ''''Arrive'''' (tantamount to 
 " in town "). The appropriate corner is turned over, 
 as occasion requires, and the sentence is thus brought 
 into notice on the same side with the name. 
 
 Business cards should never be used in social life, 
 nor should flourishes, ornamental devices, or gene- 
 rally unintelligible characters be employed. A 
 smooth, white card, of moderate size, with a plain, 
 legible inscription of the name, is in unexceptionable 
 taste and ton, suitable for all occasions, and sufficient 
 for all purposes, with the addition, when circum- 
 stances require it, of a pencilled word or sentence. 
 But to return to our main subject. 
 
 Letters of Recommendation partake of the general 
 character of those of introduction. It is sufficient to 
 add, in regard to them, that they should be conscien- 
 tiously expressed. All that can be truthfully said 
 for the advantage of the bearer, should be included ; 
 
 * Persons belonging to the Army and Navy use their full titles, with 
 the ;iadition of " U. S. A.," or " XT. S. N." 
 
256 
 
 but, as I have before remarked, no one is obliged to 
 compromise his own integrity to advance the interests 
 of others in this manner, more than in any other. 
 
 Letters of Condolence require great care and deli- 
 cacy of composition. They should relate chiefly, as 
 a rule, to the subject by which they are elicited, and 
 express syinj^athy rather than aim at administering 
 consolation. No general directions can be made to 
 embrace the peculiarities of circumstance in this 
 regard. Suffice it to say that the inspiration of 
 genuine feeling will dictate rather expressions of 
 kindly interest for the sufferer you address, of respect 
 and regard for a departed friend, or an appreciation 
 of the magnitude of the misfortune you deplore, 
 rather than coldly polished sentences and prolonged 
 reference to one's self. 
 
 Letters of Congratulation should embody cheerful- 
 ness and cordiality of sentiment, and be at an equal 
 remove from an exaggeration of style, suggesting 
 the idea of insincerity or of covert ridicule, and from 
 chilling politeness, or indications of indifference. To 
 " rejoice with those who rejoice " is indeed a pleas- 
 ing and easy task for those who are blessed with a 
 genial nature, and enrich themselves by partaking in 
 the good fortune of others. Letters expressing this 
 pleasure admit of a little more egotism than is sane* 
 tioned by decorum in some other cases. One may 
 be allowed to allude to one's own feelings when so 
 pleasurably associated with those of one's correspon- 
 dent. 
 
 Brevity is quite admissible in letters both of con* 
 
TO P0LITENES8 AND FASHION. 257 
 
 dolence and felicitation — referring, as they properly 
 do, chiefly to one topic ; it is in better taste not to intro- 
 duce extraneous matter into them, especially when 
 they are of a merely ceremonious nature. 
 
 Letters to Superiors m Station or Age demand a 
 respectful and laconic style. No familiarity of 
 address, no colloquialisms, pleasantries, or digres- 
 sions, are admissible in them. They should be com- 
 menced with a ceremoniously-respectful address 
 carefully and concisely expressed, and concluded 
 with an elaborate formula, of established phraseo- 
 logy. The name of the person to whom they are 
 written should be place near the lower, left hand 
 edge of the sheet, together with his ceremonious 
 title, etc. No abbreviations of words — and none of 
 titles, unsanctioned by established usage, should be 
 introduced into such letters, and they should bear at 
 the commencement, below the date, and on the left 
 hand side of the paper, the name of the person ad- 
 dressed, thus : 
 
 Washington City, Feb. 2c?, 1863. 
 
 Honorable Edward Everett: — 
 Sm, 
 
 I am, sir, 
 
 Yery respectfully, 
 
 Your humble servant, 
 J. F. Carpenter. 
 Hon. Edward Everett, 
 
 Secretary oi- State, for the U. S. 
 
258 THE AMERICAN GENTLEMAN S GUIDE 
 
 Be careful to remember that it is unsuitable to 
 commence a communication to an entire stranger 
 an official letter, or one of ceremony, in reply to a 
 gentleman acting in the name of a committee, etc., 
 etc., with " Dear Sir." This familiarity is wholly out 
 of place under such circumstances, and it is matter 
 of surprise that our public men so frequently fall into 
 it, even in addressing public functionaries represent- 
 ing foreign countries here, etc. In this respect, as 
 in many others, their " quality." as that most dis- 
 cerning satirist. Punchy has recently said of the style 
 of one of our men in high office — is not '^ strained P^ 
 llie veterans of Diplomatic or of Congressional life 
 should let us see that practice has refined their style 
 of speaking and writing, rather than remind us that 
 they have come to the lees of intellect ! 
 
 I have, for several years past, remarked the pub- 
 lished letters of one of the distinguished meA of the 
 Empire State, as models of graceful rhetoric and 
 good taste. I refer now, not to the political opinions 
 they may have expressed, but to their literary execu- 
 tion. They indicate the pen of genius — no matter 
 what the occasion — whether declining to break 
 ground for a canal, to lay the corner-stone of a 
 university, acknowledging a public serenade, or 
 expounding a political dogma, a certain indescrib- 
 able something always redeems them alike from com- 
 mon-place ideas, and from inelegance of language. 
 See if your newspaper profundity will enable you to 
 "guess" the name of the individual to whom I 
 refer. 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 259 
 
 DiplmnatiG Letters require a style peculiar to 
 themselves, in relation to wbicli it would be the 
 height of temerity in me to adventure even a hint. 
 The Public Documents of our own country and of 
 England, afford models for those of you who shall 
 have occasion for them, as members of the " Corps 
 Diplomatique." 
 
 Letters of Friendship mid Affection must, of 
 course, vary in style with the occasions and the 
 correspondents that elicit them. A light, easy, 
 playful style is most appropriate. And one should 
 aim rather at correctness of diction than at anything 
 like an elaborate parade of language. 
 
 Grammatical inaccuracies and vulgarisms are 
 never allowable among educated people, whether 
 in speaking or writing ; nor is defective spelling 
 excusable. 
 
 Punctuation and attention to the general rules of 
 composition should not be overlooked, as thus only 
 can unmistakable intelligibleness be secured. 
 
 Avoid all ambitious pen-flourishes, and attempts 
 at ornamental caligraphy, and aim at the acquisition 
 of a legible, neat, gentleman-like hand, and a pure, 
 manly, expressive style, in this most essential of all 
 forms of composition. 
 
 The possession of excellence in this accomplish- 
 ment will enable you to disseminate high social and 
 domestic pleasure. Nothing affords so gratifying a 
 solace to friends, when separated, as the reception 
 of those tokens of remembrance and regard. They 
 only who have wandered far, far away from the ties 
 
260 
 
 of country, friends, and home, can fully appreciate 
 the delight afforded by the reception of letters of a 
 satisfactory character. And the welcome assurances 
 of the safety, health, and happiness of the absent 
 and loved, is the best consolation of home-friends. 
 
 Practice^ jpatience, and tact^ are equally essential 
 to the acquisition of ease and grace in this desirable 
 art. Wit^ humor^ and playfulness are its proper 
 embellishments, and variety should characterize its 
 themes. A certain egotism^ too, is not only pardon- 
 able, but absolutely requisite, and may even become 
 delicately complimentary to the recipient of one's 
 confidence. 
 
 Let me remind you, too, that — though " offence 
 of spoken words " may be excused by the excite- 
 ment of passing feeling — the deliberate commission 
 of unkind, or, worse still, of unjust, untruthful, 
 injurious language, to paper, argues an obliquity of 
 moral vision little likely to secure the writer either 
 
 " What nothing earthly gives, or can destroy, 
 The souVs calm sunshine^^ 
 
 or the respect and regard of others. 
 
 Facility in writing familiar letters may be in- 
 creased by the habit of mentally recording, before 
 inditing them, as opportunity affords material, such 
 incidents of travel, items of personal interest, or 
 gossiping intelligence, etc., as may be thought best 
 suited to the tastes of your correspondents. And 
 it is well, before closing such communications, not 
 only to glance over them to satisfy yourself of their 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION 261 
 
 freedom from mistakes, but by that means to recall 
 any omission occasioned by forgetfulness. 
 
 Kotes of Invitation^ of Acceptance^ and Regret^ 
 require, of course, brevity and simplicity of expres- 
 Bion. The prevailing mode of the society you are 
 connected with, is usually the proper guide in rela- 
 tion to these matters of form, for the time being. 
 Thus the mere formula of social life at "Washington, 
 Boston, Charleston, Paris, or St. Petersburg, may 
 be somewhat varied, as usage alone frequently 
 determines these niceties, and all eccentricities and 
 peculiarities in this respect, as in most others, are in 
 bad taste. Cards, or Notes, of Invitation to Dinners 
 and Soirees, are frequently printed, and merely 
 names and dates supplied in writing. The example 
 of the hest society (in the most elevated sense of 
 that much-abused phrase) everywhere, sanctions 
 only the most unpretending mode of expression and 
 general style, for such occasions. The utmost 
 beauty and exquisiteness of finish in the mere 
 Tnaterial^ but the absence of all pretentious orna- 
 ment, is thought most unexceptionable. 
 
 Invitations to Dinner should be acknowledged at 
 your earliest convenience, and — whether accepted or 
 declined — in courteously ceremonious phraseology. 
 In the instance of invitations * to Balls and Evening- 
 
 * I vra8 somewhat surprised lately, in perusing an agreeable 
 novel, written by one of our countrywomen, to observe her use of 
 the word " ticket " as synonymous with invitation^ or card of invita* 
 Hon. A " ticket " admits one to a concert, the opera, or theatre ' 
 but one receives an " invitation^''^ or " card pf invitation " to a dinner, 
 
Parties, Weddings, etc., haste is Dot so essential ; 
 but a seasonat)le reply to such civilities should by 
 no means be neglected. 
 
 When you wish to take a friend — who is a 
 stranger to the hostess — with you to an evening 
 entertainment, and are upon sufficiently established 
 terms with her to make it quite proper to do so, 
 acknowledge your invitation at once, and request 
 permission to take your friend — thus affording an 
 opportunity, if it is requisite, for the return of an 
 invitation enclosed to you for your proposed com- 
 panion. Some form like the following will answer 
 the purpose ; 
 
 Mr. Thomas Brown has the honor to accept Mrs 
 Mason's very polite invitation for next Thursday 
 evening. 
 
 With Mrs. Mason's permission, Mr. Brown will 
 be accompanied by his friend, Mr. Crawford, of 
 Cincinnati, who is at present temporarily in New 
 York. 
 
 Carlton House, 
 
 Monday morning^ December 28<A. 
 
 Among intimate friends, it is sometimes most 
 courteous, when declining an invitation^ in place of 
 a mere formal " regret " to indite a less ceremonious 
 note, briefly explanatory, or apologetic. Essential 
 
 ball, or evening-party, at a friend's house. All misnomers of thin 
 kind savor of under-breeding — they are vulgarisms^ iu short, unsanc- 
 tioned either by taste or fashion. 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 263 
 
 good'hreeding is the best guide in these occaBional 
 deviations from ceremoneous rules. 
 
 Formal notes of invitation, and the like, should 
 not be addressed to several persons inclusively. Of 
 course, a gentleman and his wife are invited in 
 this inclusive way, as are the unmarried sisters of a 
 family, when residing in the same house ; but 
 visitors to one's friends, a married lady and her 
 daughters, as well as the younger gentlemen of a 
 family, should, severally, have separate notes, di- 
 rected to them individually, where ceremony is 
 requisite, though all may, for convenience, be 
 enclosed in the same envelope, with a general 
 direction to the elder lady of the house. 
 
 Letters, or notes, commenced in the thii'd person^ 
 should be continued throughout in the same form. 
 It is obviously incorrect (though of frequent occur- 
 rence), to adopt such phraseology as — "Mr. Small 
 presents his compliments to Miss Jones," etc., and 
 to conclude with " Yours respectfully, G. Small." 
 This mode of expression (the third person), is only 
 adapted to brief communications of a formal nature. 
 No address and signature are required when the 
 names of the recipient and of the writer are intro- 
 duced into the body of the note, as they necessarily 
 are. The place of residence (if written), and the 
 date, are placed at the left hand side of the paper, 
 heloic the principal contents. 
 
 Letters designed to be mailed — such as are written 
 to persons living at a distance from your own place 
 of residence — should have your proper mail addresi 
 
264: THE AMERICAN GENTLEMAn's GUIDE 
 
 legibly written on the right hand side of your sheet, 
 above the rest of the communication, together with 
 the date. 
 
 Notes addressed to persons residing in the same 
 place with yourself, require only the name of the 
 street you reside in, and your number, with the day 
 of the week — as " Clinton Place, Thursday P. M.," 
 or, " No. 6 Great Jones st., Monday morning " — 
 which is usually placed below the other portions of 
 the missive. It is usual to write short notes of cere- 
 mony so as to have the few lines composing them in 
 the middle of the small sheet used. 
 
 Forms of signature and address vary in accordance 
 with the general tenor of letters. When they are of 
 an entirely ceremonious character, or addressed to 
 superiors, usage requires an elaborate address and 
 subscription ; but the style of familiar epistles per- 
 mits throughout every variety of language that good 
 taste and good feeling may invent or sanction. Only 
 let there be a general harmony in your compositions. 
 Do not fall into the inadvertency of the person who 
 addressed a missive full of the most tender expres- 
 sions of regard to his mistress, and signed it — 
 " Yours respectfully, Clark, Smith & Co." 
 
 Legibility, Intelligibility, and Accuracy are requi 
 site in the direction of all epistolary compositions. 
 
 Correct taste demands some attention to the sub- 
 ject of Writing-Materials. It is now becoming the 
 practice to use small-sized paper for communications 
 of ceremony and friendship, continuing the contents 
 through several sheets, if necessary, and numbering 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 265 
 
 each in proper succession. It is, also, usual to 
 write ceremonious letters on but one side of a sheet, 
 and to leave a wide margin upon the left hand 
 side, and a narrower one on the opposite edge of the 
 paper. 
 
 The finest, smoothest paper should always be used, 
 except for mere business matters ; and, though some 
 passing fashion may sanction tinted paper, pure white 
 is always unexceptionable. All fancy ornaments, 
 colored designs, etc., etc., are in questionable taste. 
 If ornamental bordering, or initinl lettering is 
 adopted, the most chaste and unpretending should 
 be preferred. 
 
 Except for mailing^ envelopes should correspond 
 exactly with the sheet inclosed. Envelopes sent 
 by post should be strong and large-sized. Sometimes 
 it is well to re-enclose a small envelope, corresponding 
 with the written sheet, in a large, firm cover, and to 
 write the full direction upon that. 
 
 Sealing wax should always be used for closing all 
 epistles, except those of an entirely business nature. 
 Stamps and seals may vary with taste. A plain 
 form with an unbroken face, suflaces ; or initials, a 
 device and motto, one or both ; or hereditary heral- 
 dic designs may be preferred. 
 
 Letters intended to go by mail on the continent of 
 Europe, should be written on a single, large sheet of 
 thin paper, and not enveloped. 
 
 It is as iU-hred not to reply to a communication 
 requiring an acknowledgment, or to neglect proper 
 attention to all the several matters of importa/iice to 
 
 12 
 
266 THE AMERICAN GENTLEMAn's GUmB 
 
 which it relates^ as %t is not to answer a question 
 directly and personally addressed to you. 
 
 Promptitude is also demanded bj good-breeding, 
 in this regard. Necessity only can excuse the impo- 
 liteness of subjecting a friend, or business-correspon- 
 dent, to inconvenience or anxiety, occasioned by 
 delay in replying to important letters. 
 
 Tyros in epistolary composition may derive advan- 
 tage from noting the peculiar excellences of the 
 published letters of celebrated authors and others ; 
 not for the purpose of servile imitation, but as aflford- 
 ing useful general models, or guides. Miscellaneous 
 readers may note the genial humor and patient ela- 
 borateness characterizing the letters of the " Great 
 Unknown," the felicities of expression sometimes 
 observable in the familiar missives of Byron, and of 
 his friend Tom Moore (when the latter is not writing 
 to his much-put-upon London publisher for table-sup- 
 plies, etc. !) amuse himself with the gossiping capacity 
 for details exhibited by those of Horace Walpole, 
 and con, with wondering admiration, the epistolary 
 illustrations of the well-disciplined, thoronghlj-ba- 
 lanced character of the gi*eat American model, of 
 whose writings it may always be said — whether an 
 " order," written on a drum-head, or the draught of a 
 document involving the interests of all humanity is 
 the subject — that they are " well doneP 
 
 Among the collections of letters I remember to 
 have read, none now occur to me as offering more 
 variety of style than those included in the " Memoirs 
 of H. More." They are a little old-fashioned now, 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 26T: 
 
 perhaps; but some of them, both for matter and 
 manner, are, in their way, unsurpassed in English 
 literature. Some of those of Sir W. W. P&pys^ I 
 recollect as peculiarly pleasing. 
 
 Several of the published letters of Dr. Johnson, 
 and one or two of those of our own Franklin, are to 
 be regarded as among the curiosities of literature, 
 rather than as precedents which circumstances will 
 ever render available, or desirable. Johnson's cele- 
 brated letter to Lord Chesterfield, declining his prof- 
 fered patronage, for instance — and Franklin's, con- 
 cluding with the witty sarcasm — " You are now my" 
 enemy, and I am 
 
 "Yours, B. Franklin." 
 
 At some future time, perhaps, the literary trea-, 
 Bures of our country will be enriched by specimens 
 of the correspondence of such of our contemporaries 
 as inspire the highest admiration for their general 
 style of composition. Who could fail to peruse with 
 interest, letters from the pen of Prescott, who never 
 makes even such a physical infirmity as his, a plea 
 for inaccuracy, or carelessness of expression? And 
 who would not hail with delight any draught pre- 
 sented by the bounteous hand of Irving, from, 
 
 " The weU of English undefiled;' 
 
 whence he himself has long quaffed the highest 
 inspiration I 
 
268 THE AMERICAN GENTLEMAn's GUmE 
 
 "There tliey are!" shouted James. 
 
 " Here they come !" exclaimed Miss Mary Mars* 
 ton, 
 
 " They have made good time, the lazy dogs, for 
 once !" said I. 
 
 " Oh, I'm so glad !" echoed the silvery cadences 
 of Nettie Brown, who seemed about to dance to the 
 music of her own merry voice. 
 
 "I hope" began the dove-like murmur of a 
 
 fair invalid : she ceased, and her dewy eyes told all 
 she would have said. 
 
 " God grant us good news !" said our venerable 
 co7npagno7i de voyage, fervently, a shade of anxiety 
 clouding his usually benignant countenance. 
 
 " Ladies, excuse me ! I beg you to remember 
 that they may not bring anything — ^let me prepare 
 you for a disappointment!" These words were 
 littered, with apparent reluctance, by a young man, 
 whose pale face and dark melancholy eyes seemed 
 to lend almost prophetic emphasis to his warning 
 tones. 
 
 Nettie ceased to clap her little hands; "Jovial 
 James " looked as grave as his usually rollicking, 
 fun-twinkling eyes permitted; the stately Mary 
 could only look fixedly towards the approaching 
 Arabs, the serenity of our patriarchal friend was 
 more than ever disturbed; sweet Isidore grew 
 marble pale, and leaned heavily back upon the sculp- 
 tured pillar against which we had secured her camp- 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 269 
 
 seat, and your uncle Hal — well ! lie is a " proverbial 
 philosopher," you know I 
 
 There we were, amid the solemn magnificence of 
 the ruined palaces and temples of once-mighty 
 Thebes. 
 
 Our little party was gathered in front of the great 
 Propylon of the famous Temple of Luxor, whose 
 mysterious grandeur we had come many thousands 
 of miles to behold. Massive pillars, covered with 
 minutely-finished picture-writing and mystic hiero- 
 glyphics, sufficient for the life-long study of the 
 curious student ; enormous architraves, half-buried 
 colossi, far-reaching colonnades, " grand, gloomy and 
 peculiar ;" the world-famed Memnon ; the grim, 
 tomb-hallowed mountains — all the wonders of the 
 Nile, of El Wcsorein^ of Karnac, surrounded us ! 
 
 But humiliating reflections upon the mutability of 
 human greatness and human power, the eager specu- 
 lations of the disciples of Champollion, sarcophagi 
 and sculptured ceilings, and scarabsei and Sesostris, 
 alike sunk into matters of insignificance and indif- 
 ference when compared with the expectation of 
 Letters from Home ! 
 
 That most amiable and hospitable of Mussulmans, 
 Mustapha Aga, the traveller's friend^ had engaged 
 the Sheik (heaven spare the mark !) of one of the 
 squalid Arab villages, whose mud walls cluster 
 upon the roofs of the grand halls and porticoes of 
 ancient Thebes — reminding one of animalculcB by 
 comparison — to accompany my servant and one or 
 
270 THE AMERICAN GENTLEMAn's QJJIDB 
 
 two of our dusky satellites to a point in the 
 vicinity, to which the American and English consuls 
 at Cairo had engaged to forward oui letters, etc. 
 
 Our motley band of couriers was now seen 
 advancing along the low bank of the river, and all 
 was eager anticipation and impatience. 
 
 The ceremony of distribution was speedily accom 
 plished, and an observer of the scene, like our calm, 
 silent host, the kindly Mustapha, might almost read 
 the contents of the different letters of the several 
 members of our little group reflected in the faces of 
 each. 
 
 " Jovial James " sunk down at once at the feet of 
 the fair ITettie, who had sacrilegiously seated herself 
 upon the edge of an open sarcophagus, with a lap 
 full of treasures, before which her hoarded antiques 
 — and she was the most indefatigable collector of our 
 corps — relapsed again into the nothingness from 
 which her admiration had, for a time, redeemed 
 them. Something very much like a tear glistened 
 in the bright eyes of the frolicksome youth as he 
 murmured, half-unconsciously " Mother," and sun- 
 shine and shadow played in quick succession over 
 the mirroring features of the fair girl. 
 
 The usually placid Mary Marston fairly turning 
 her back upon us, beat a retreat towards a prostrate 
 column and, half-concealed herself among its crumb- 
 ling fragments ; and our sweet, fast-fading flower, for 
 whose comfort each vied with the other, the beauti- 
 ful Isidore, clasped her triple prizes between her 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 27i 
 
 slight palms, and folding them to her meek bosom, 
 lifted her soft ejes toward the heaven that looked 
 iilike on Egypt and on her native land, and whisper- 
 ed '-'- Home! Oh, father take me HomeP^ 
 
 "Not one word does Frank say about remit- 
 tances — the most important of all subjects !" cried 
 James, with his elbows on his knees, and a half-filled 
 sheet held out before him in both hands. " He is 
 the most provoking fellow ! — just look, J^ettie, how 
 much blank paper, too, sent all the way from Man- 
 hattan Island to Upper Egypt," he added, with a 
 serio-comic tap on the paper. 
 
 " Good enough for you !" retorted his frequent 
 tormentor ; " you wouldn't write from Kome to him, 
 as I begged you to " 
 
 " But, most amiable Miss Consolation ' on a monvr 
 ment^ smiling at grief,' don't you recollect that you 
 favored him with three ' great big ' sheets, crammed, 
 crossed, and kissed " 
 
 " Do go away, James Wilson ! you are a regular 
 squatter^ as they say at home ; really, if you are not 
 established on my skirt !" laughed his merry com- 
 panion, reddening, however, at his skillful sally. 
 
 James, well used to repulses, made not even a 
 pretence of removing his quarters ; but, tracing with 
 his forefinger in the sand, began to tease his pretty 
 neighbor for news from home, protesting that men 
 were the poorest letter-writers, and that his corres- 
 pondents in particular, never said anything ! 
 
 But what had become of the thoughtful friend, 
 
272 
 
 whose warning voice had checked too eager expecta» 
 tion in his companions, whilst 
 
 " thou, oh Hope, with eyes so fair," 
 
 made wild tumult jn each eager breast ? I marked 
 his face, as he stood apart from the excited group 
 gathered about the bearer of our dispatches. It was 
 almost as immobile and coldly calm as those of the 
 polished colossi around us, save for the burning eyes 
 that seemed actually to devour the several directions 
 that were glanced over, or read aloud by others. His 
 hands, too, were tightly clutched, as though he were 
 thus self-sustained.— Poor fellow ! I had frequently 
 noticed his manner before, where the happiness of 
 others arrested attention ; it indicated, to me, a 
 serenity like that of the expiring hero who waved 
 his life-draught to another, hiding, with a smile, the 
 outward signs of tortured nature I Almost before 
 the last package was unfolded, he was advancing 
 with rapid strides along the majestic avenue leading 
 from our stand-point towards the ruins of Karnac, 
 and was soon lost to sight amid its massive orna- 
 ments. How easily might some friendly hand have 
 shed balm upon his sad and solitary spirit, on that 
 memorable day in far-off Nile-Land, when so 
 many hearts were gladdened with the sweet sun- 
 light enkindled by letters / — so many faces illumined 
 with smiles reflected from the ever-glowing altars of 
 Country and Home I 
 
TO POLITENESS ANP FASHION. 273 
 
 Sir Walter Scott, as liis son-in-law informed me, 
 despite the vast amount of intellectual labor he 
 otherwise imposed upon himself, with as little flinch- 
 ing, apparently, as though his mind were a powerful 
 self-regulating steam-engine, had the habit of always 
 answering letters on the day of their reception ! 
 Mr. Lockliart told me that, during the researches he 
 made among the private papers of his immortal 
 friend, while preparing materials for his biography, 
 he almost invariably remarked, from the careful 
 notations upon them, that when any delay had 
 occurred in replying to a letter, it arose from the 
 necessity of some previous investigation, or the like. 
 My astonishment upon perusing the long, elabo- 
 rately-written epistles that Mr. Lockhart subsequently 
 gave to the world, was augmented by my knowledge 
 of this fact, and by my remembrance of the innu- 
 merable demands made upon his time by social and 
 public duties. But " we ne'er shall look on his like 
 again !" Well might his pen be styled the wand of 
 the mighty Wizard of the Korth. 
 
 A gentle tap at the library-door interrupted the 
 after-dinner chat of my old friend and myself. A 
 fair young face presented itself in answer to the bid- 
 ding of ray host, and, upon seeing me was quickly 
 withdrawn. 
 
 " Come in, my daughter, come — ^what will you 
 have ?" 
 
 12* 
 
St* 
 
 I rose immediately to withdraw, as the young 
 lady, thus encouraged, somewhat timidly advanced 
 towards her father. 
 
 " Pray, do not disturb yourself, Colonel Lunettes," 
 said she ; ^ I only want to speak to pa one moment ; 
 don't think of going away, I beg " 
 
 My host, too, interposed to prevent my leaving the 
 room, and I, therefore, took up a book and re-seated 
 myself. 
 
 " Excuse me for interrupting you, pa, but may 
 I " — here a whisper, and then so audibly that I 
 could not help overhearing — " do please, dear pa !" 
 
 " "Well, we'll see about it — when is the concert 1" 
 rang out the clear voice of the father. 
 
 " But, pa, I ought to answer the note to-night or 
 very early to-morrow morning — it would not be 
 polite to keep Mr. Blakeman " 
 
 "A note, eh?" interrupted the old gentleman, 
 *' let me see it — go bring it to me." 
 
 I thought I could not be mistaken in the indica- 
 tion of reluctance to obey this direction evinced by 
 the slow step of my usually sprightly-motioned young 
 favorite. 
 
 " Come, Fanny, come," said her father, when she 
 re-entered, "you have no objection to showing 
 
 " Oh, no, indeed, pa, — ^but you are so critical," the 
 young lady began to protest. 
 
 " Critical ! am I though !" exclaimed the parent, 
 with some vivacity, " perhaps so — at least I judge 
 Boraewhat, of a man's claims to the acquaintance of 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 2T5 
 
 my daugliter by these things." And, adjusting his 
 spectacles, he opened the note his daughter offered. 
 " Bless my soul !" he cried, at the first glance, " what 
 bright-colored paper, and how many grand flour- 
 ishes ! — really, my dear !" There was a brief silence 
 and then the father said mildly, but firmly, " Fanny, 
 I prefer that you should not accept this invitation." 
 
 " Will you tell me why, pa ?" 
 
 " Because the writer is not a gentlema/n ! No mau 
 of taste and refinement would write such a note as 
 this to a lady, with whom he has only the ceremo- 
 nious acquaintance that this young man has with 
 you. He is evidently illiterate^ too, — his note is not 
 only inelegantly expressed, but it is mis-spelled " 
 
 "Oh, pa" 
 
 " I assure you it is so. Your own education is 
 more defective than it should be with the advantages 
 you have had, if you cannot perceive this — read it 
 again, and tell me what word is mis-spelled," said her 
 father, returning the production under discussion to 
 Fanny. 
 
 The young lady sat down by the lamp to con the 
 task assigned her, and my host said to me — " It is 
 unpardonable, now-a-days, for a young man to be 
 ioTiorant in such matters as these. "When we were 
 
 o 
 
 young, Hal, the means of acquiring knowledge gen- 
 erally, were limited by circumstances ; but who that 
 wishes, lacks them at present? — ^Well, my daugh- 
 ter " 
 
 "Yes, pa, I see, — of course it was a mere slip of 
 the pen" 
 
276 
 
 "A slip of the pen !" retorted the father, "and is 
 that a sufficient excuse ? Proper respect will teach a 
 young man of right feelings towards your sex, 
 to take good care that no such carelessness retains a 
 place in his first billet to a lady — it is an indication 
 of character^ my child ! Depend upon it, that the 
 man w^ho writes in this way, — encircling some of his 
 words with a flourish, abbreviating others, mis-spel- 
 ling, and all upon mottled paper, with a highly 
 ornate border, does not understand himself, and will 
 be guilty of other solecisms in good manners and 
 good taste, that will be very likely to embarrass and 
 shock a young lady accustomed to " 
 
 " The society of gentlemen of the old school^ like 
 pa and Col. Lunettes!" exclaimed Fanny, in her 
 usual laughing manner, snatching up the condemned 
 missive, and flying out of the room. 
 
 In the course of the evening, my old friend and I 
 joined the ladies in the drawing-room. 
 
 A merry group around a centre-table, attracted 
 me, and as the fair Fanny made a place beside her 
 agreeable little self for me, I was soon settled to my 
 satisfaction in the midst of the fair bevy. 
 
 " What are you all so busy about ?" I inquired, aa 
 I seated myself. 
 
 " Oh, criticising!" cried one. 
 
 " Acquiring knowledge under difficulties," replied 
 another. 
 
 " Accomplishing ourselves in the Art Epistolary, 
 by the study of models I" returned a third. 
 
 And sure cnongh, — the table was strewed with 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 277 
 
 cards, and notes, and an empty fancy-basket told 
 where these sportive critics had obtained their mate- 
 rials. I soon gathered that the scrutiny Fanny'3 
 note had undergone in the library, was the moving 
 cause of this sudden resuscitation of defunct billet- 
 doux and forgotten cards. 
 
 " Only look at this one, Col. Lunettes !" exclaimed 
 a pretty girl opposite me, handing across a visiting 
 card, with the name written with ink, in rather 
 cramped characters, and surrounded with a variety 
 of awkward attempts at ornamental flourishes. " Isn't 
 that suflacient to condemn the perpetrator to ' du- 
 rance vile ' in the jparadise of fools .^" 
 
 " Well, here is a beautiful note, at any rate," 
 exclaimed the eldest daughter of the house, " even 
 papa would not find fault with this " — 
 
 "What are you saying about papa?" inquired the 
 master of the mansion, pausing in his walk up and 
 down the room, and leaning upon the back of his 
 daughter's chair. 
 
 "Won't you join ns, sir?" returned the young 
 lady, making a motion to rise ; " let me give you my 
 seat." 
 
 " l^To, no, sit still, child — ^let us hear the note that 
 you think unexceptionable." 
 
 " It is as simple as possible," said she, " but though 
 it only relates to a matter of business, I remember 
 noticing, when I opened it, the elegant writing 
 and". 
 
 "Well, let us hear it, my daughter." 
 
 Thus impelled, the fair reader began : 
 
278 
 
 " Heniy "Wynkoop presents his respectful compli- 
 ments to Miss Campbell, and begs leave to inform 
 her that the goods for which she inquired, a few 
 days since, have arrived, and are now ready for her 
 inspection. 
 
 " 240 Main St., 
 Wednesday Morning^ May 22<f." 
 
 "I should have said," added Miss Campbell, 
 " that I had simply requested Mr. Wynkoop to send 
 me word about some shawls, when any of the family 
 happened in there, and did not think of troubling 
 him to send a note." 
 
 " Let me see," said her father, taking the paper 
 from her hand, "yes! just what one might expect 
 from that young fellow — ^fine, handsome, plain paper 
 [a glance at poor Fanny] and a neat modest seal 
 — all because a lady was in question ; and one can 
 read the writing as if it were print. Look at it, 
 Lunettes ! A promising young merchant — a friend 
 of ours, here. An educated merchant — what every 
 man should be, who wishes to succeed in mercantile 
 life in this country." 
 
 " Yes," returned I, " ours is destined, if I do not 
 greatly mistake, to be a land of merchant princes, 
 like Yenice of old, and I quite agree with you that 
 A^merican merchants should be educated gentle- 
 7r^en .'" 
 
 " This young Wynkoop," continued my friend, " is 
 destined yet to fill some space in the world's eye, 
 vnless I have lost my power to judge of men. He 
 
TO P0LITENES8 AND FASHION. 279 
 
 geems to find time for everything — the other evening 
 he was here — (the girls had some young friends) — 
 and, happening to step into the library, I fonnd him 
 standing with one of the book-cases open, and just 
 reaching down a volume — * I beg your pardon, sir, 
 if I intrude,' said he, ' but I was going to look for 
 a passage in the " Deserted Yillage," as I am not so 
 fortunate as to possess a copy of Goldsmith.' Of 
 course I assured him that the books were all at his 
 service, and apologized for closing the door, and seat- 
 ing myself at my desk, saying that a rascally Cana- 
 dian lawyer had sent me a letter so badly written 
 that I could scarcely puzzle it out, and that his bad 
 French was almost unintelligible at that. I confess 
 I was surprised when he offered to assist me, saying 
 very modestly, that nothing was more confusing 
 than patois to the uninitiated, but that he had 
 chanced to have some experience in it. So he 
 helped me out very cleverly, in spite of my protesta- 
 tions at his losing so much time, and when he found 
 he could not aid me farther, looked up his lines, put 
 back my book, and quietly bowing, slipped out of 
 the room. When I went back to the girls, later in 
 the evening, I heard my young friend singing with 
 some lady, in a fine clear voice, and, soon after, 
 discovered him in another room dancing, 'money 
 mush ' with my own wife for his partner I" 
 
 While this little sketch was in progress of narra* 
 tion, the inspection of the miscellaneous display upon 
 the table had been silently progressing. And each 
 pretty critic had made some discovery. 
 
280 THE AMERICAN GENTLEMAh's GUIDE 
 
 " Here is a ' regret ' sent for the other niglit," said 
 Fanny, " what do you think of that, Col. Lunettes?'* 
 And a large sheet of note paper was put into my 
 hand, clumsily folded, and containing only the 
 words " Mr. Augustus Simpkin regrets." 
 
 " A good deal is left for the imagination," I re- 
 plied, " regrets what ?" 
 
 " That he is a numskull^ perhaps, but I fear there 
 is not that encouragement for his improvement!" 
 broke in the Chairman of this Committee of Investi- 
 gation. 
 
 The general laugh that followed this spicy comment 
 had no sooner subsided, than another note caught 
 my eye, by its handsome penmanship. Glancing it 
 over, I handed it to one of the young ladies without 
 comment. She * looked unutterable things,' as sho 
 quietly refolded the missive, and was about to slip it 
 out of sight; but the dancing eyes of the lively 
 Fanny had caught the whole movement, and sho 
 insisted upon what she called fair play. So the 
 paper was again subjected to perusal — this time 
 aloud. 
 
 Baltimore, Jtdy 24, '61, 
 
 *' William Jones takes this means of making an 
 apology for not calling for Miss Mary last evening. 
 I assure you no ofience was intended, and hope you 
 did not take it so. 
 
 " Yours afiectionately, 
 
 " P. William Jones. 
 "The Miss Campbells." 
 
TO P0LITEITES9 AND FASHION. 281 
 
 " How did that get into the card-basket ?" exclaim- 
 ed Miss Campbell, in consternation, "it ought to 
 have been destroyed at the time " 
 
 " It has risen up in judgment against the writer 
 now," said Fanny, " but he is much improved since 
 then. He knows better now than to say ^ the Mis 
 Canvpbells^^ or " 
 
 " Or sign himself ' Yours affectionately,' to a docu- 
 ment commenced in the third person. So he does, 
 child, and he proved himself essentially polite by 
 writing the note — the hand is really very commend- 
 able. I have no doubt the young man will yet 
 acquire considerable note-ability P^ And throwing 
 the tell-tale paper into the fire, the charitable com- 
 mentator proceeded in his walk. 
 
 uj^ <p^opos " — "J. jpropos " was echoed round the 
 merry circle, as a servant handed a note to Miss 
 Campbell. 
 
 "Miss Fanny Campbell," read her sister, and 
 resigned the billet to its rightful owner. 
 
 Every one protested that it should be common 
 property, unless its contents were a secret ; and the 
 blushing, half-pouting beauty was constrained to 
 open and inspect her note where she sat. 
 
 " I insist upon fair play in Miss Fanny's case, 
 also," said I, coming to the rescue, " and shall do 
 myself the honor of acting as her champion." With 
 that I spread out her gossamer handkerchief, and 
 throwing it over the top of my cane, affected to 
 screen the rosy face beside me. Taking advantage 
 of my ruse^ my pretty favorite opened her note, and, 
 
282 THE AMERICAN GENTLEMAn's GUIDE 
 
 partly retreating behind my broad shoulder, booe 
 possessed herself of its contents. 
 
 " There," said she, throwing it into the middle of 
 the table, " you may all read it and welcome !" 
 
 Brown heads and black, sunny curls and chestnut 
 " bands," were immediately clustered together over 
 the prize, and Fanny, springing away, like a bird, 
 was, in a moment, perched on an arm of the large 
 chair in which her father was now ensconced, with 
 her arm around his neck, and her beaming eyes 
 glancing out from his snowy locks. 
 
 " Let Colonel Lunettes see it, you rude creatures I" 
 exclaimed my lively favorite, from her retreat, and 
 the note was immediately presented to me. Wiping 
 my glasses with deliberation suitable to the occa- 
 sion, I " pressed my hand upon my throbbing heart," 
 and read as follows : 
 
 " It will afford Mr. Howard Parkman great plea- 
 sure to attend Miss Fanny Campbell to a Concert to 
 be given by the " Hungarian Family," to-morrow 
 evening. 
 
 " If she will permit him that honor, Mrs. and Miss 
 Parkman, accompanied by Mr. P., will call for Miss 
 Campbell at half past seven o clock. 
 
 " Coleman St., 
 
 " Tuesday P. Jf." 
 
 " That's another rival for you, Colonel Lunettes," 
 exclaimed one of the girls. 
 
 " I fear my doom is sealed !" returned the old sol- 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 283 
 
 dier thus addressed, with an air of mock resignation. 
 " But who is this formidable youth, Miss Camp- 
 bell?" 
 
 "A Bostonian, I believe," replied the young 
 lady; " cousin Charley introduced him to us at 
 Hrs. Gay's ball the other evening, and asked us to 
 call upon his mother and sister — they are friends of 
 ills. He was here this morning with cousin Char- 
 ley, but we were out." 
 
 " How stylish !" said one of our critical circle, 
 re-examining the elegant billet of the stranger. 
 
 "Quite au fait, too, you see, young ladies," I 
 added, " he invites Miss Fanny to go with a proper 
 chaperon to the concert, as he is so slightly ac- 
 quainted with her." 
 
 As I limped across the room towards them, I heard 
 my friend say to his daughter, who still retained her 
 seat, " certainly, unless you prefer to go with Mr. 
 Blakeman." 
 
 " Oh, pa !" protested the sweet girl, " but what 
 excuse shall I make to Mr. Blakeman ?" 
 
 " Tell him, in terms, that your father does not per- 
 mit you to go anywhere, alone, with a young man 
 with whom he has no acquaintance — Lunettes, you're 
 not going?" rising as he spoke. 
 
 " It is high time — my carriage must be waiting. 
 Miss Fanny, permit me the privilege of an old 
 friend," — kissing her glowing cheek— and, as she 
 . skipped out into the hall with her father and me, I 
 whispered — " About this young Bostonian ? Is it 
 all over with him ?" 
 
284 THE AMERICAN GENTLEMAn's OUroB 
 
 "What, Hal — jealous?" exclaimed her father, 
 laughing — "do you fear the flight of our gazelle, 
 here ?" 
 
 " 'No danger of my eloping ! ISTo, indeed ! at least 
 with any one except — Colonel Lunettes P'^ replied 
 the charming little witch, as her nimble fingers fas- 
 tened my wrappings. 
 
 " Bravo !" cried her father ; " that would be glo- 
 rious ! Seventeen and " 
 
 " Eighty-two," interrupted your old uncle ; " May 
 and December ! But, happily for me, fair Fanny, 
 my heart can never grow old while I have, the hap- 
 piness of knowing you." 
 
 I hope none of you will ever, even when writing 
 in a foreign language, fall into the mistake made by 
 a young Pole, with whom I once had a slight 
 acquaintance. He was paying his addresses to a 
 young lady, and, while most assiduously making his 
 court to the fair object of his passion, was tempora- 
 Tily separated from her, by her leaving home on a 
 pleasure excursion. At the first stopping-place of 
 her party, the lady found a letter awaiting her, 
 written in the neatest manner, and in excellent Eng- 
 lish — which her lover spolte in a mry imperfect man- 
 ner. It appeared to the recipient of this complimen- 
 tary effusion, however, at the first, glance, that its 
 contents were not especially relevant to the occasion 
 of a first hillet-doux from her admirer. Reading it 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 285 
 
 more deliberately, something familiar in the lan- 
 guage struck her suddenly, and after pondering a mo- 
 ment, she turned over the leaves of a new book which 
 was among the literary stores of our travelling-party, 
 and soon came to the exact counterpart of passage 
 after passage, as recorded in the letter of the gallant 
 Pole! 
 
 The volume was, I think, " Hannah More's Me- 
 moirs," which had probably been recommended to 
 the young student of our language by his teacher, or 
 some friend, as containing good specimens of the 
 epistolary style ! 
 
 With the hope that you may all escape being the 
 subjects of such merriment as was occasioned by tho 
 discovery of my fair friend, I remain, as ever. 
 Affectionately yours, 
 
 Hakey Lunettes. 
 
286 THE AMERICAN GENTLEMAn's ^UIDB 
 
 LETTER IX. 
 
 accomplishments. 
 
 My dear Nephews : 
 
 Though accomplishments are a very 
 poor substitute for the more substantial portions of a 
 thorough education, no one should be so indifferent 
 to the embellishments of life as wholly to neglect 
 their cultivation. 
 
 With Europeans some attention to this subject 
 always makes part of a thorough education, but 
 among a new people^ differing so essentially from the 
 nations of the Old World in social habits, the leisure 
 and inclination that induce such a system of early 
 discipline are both still wantiug — speaking generally. 
 It is not the lack of wealth — of that we have enough 
 — but of a cultivated, discriminating taste, the 
 growth of time and favoring circumstances, which 
 is not yet diffused among us. But, though our young 
 men, even of the more favored class, do not enjoy 
 the carefully - elaborated system of early training, 
 common abroad, personal effort will produce a result 
 similar in effect, if well-directed and steadfastly pur- 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 287 
 
 sued, and the best of all knowledge — that most bene^ 
 iicial in its influence upon character — is acquired by 
 unaided individual exertion. Young Americans, 
 above the men of all other countries, should lack no 
 incentive to add, as occasion may permit, tasteful 
 polish to the more essential solidity of mental 
 acquirements. 
 
 I know of nothing better calculated to foster 
 refinement and purity of life than the cultivation of 
 a Tdste for the Fine Arts. I do not refer to a dillet- 
 tante affectation of familiarity with the technicalities 
 of artistic language, or to fashionable pretension and 
 an assumption of connoisseurship, but to honest, 
 manly, sesthetical perceptions, quickened and ele- 
 vated by familiarity with the true principles of: 
 Art, and by the study of the highest productions of 
 genius. 
 
 Some knowledge of the practice, as well as of the 
 principles of drawing^ is a very agreeable and useful 
 accomplishment, and one that may be acquired with 
 little or no instruction, save that to be obtained from 
 books. 
 
 Among the advantages collaterally arising from 
 familiarity with this art, is the increased quickness 
 and enjoyment it lends to a discernment of the beauti- 
 ful in nature, both in its minute manifestations and 
 its grand developments. A fondness for sketching], 
 leads, also, to a partiality for rural excursions, and 
 for the physical sciences ; and all those tastes where 
 the main purposes of life permit their indulgence, 
 serve to elevate, refine, and expand the higher facul* 
 
288 
 
 ties, to give them habitual dominion over the pro- 
 pensities and to restrain sensuous enjoyments within 
 their legitimate limits. 
 
 A Taste for Music must, of course, be ranked 
 among the elegances of social life, but it should not 
 be forgotten that a practical hnowledge of any one 
 branch of this Art has no direct effect to enlarge the 
 mind, like that of Painting, for instance. It is only 
 a sensuous pleasure, though a refined one, and is, as 
 I have had frequent occasion to remark, too fre- 
 quently permitted to engross both time and faculties 
 that should properly be, in part, at least, more diffu- 
 sively employed. Musical skill, though a pleasant 
 acquirement, is not a sufficient substitute for an 
 acquaintance with general Literature and Art ; nor 
 will its most exquisite exhibitions always furnish an 
 equivalent for intellectual pleasures, whether of a 
 personal or social nature. 
 
 Dancing should be early learned, not only because, 
 like musical knowledge, it is a source of social and 
 domestic enjoyment, but as materially assisting in 
 the acquirement of an easy and graceful carriage and 
 manner. It is a good antidote, too, to mauvaise 
 honte, and almost essential among the minor accom- 
 plishments of a man of the world. 
 
 Hiding and Driving should never be neglected 
 by those who possess the means of becoming familiar 
 with them. Convenience, health and pleasure com- 
 bine to recommend both, l^o indulgence of the 
 pride of skilly however, should be permitted to exalt 
 these accessories of a polite education into the main 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 28^ 
 
 business of life, as I believe 1 have before reminded 
 you. 
 
 The hroad^word exercise^ pistol-shooting^ athletio 
 sports and games ^ sporting ^ gymnastic exercises^ etc., 
 etc., may be ranked among the minor manly 
 accomplishments with which it is desirable to be 
 familiar. 
 
 Of no small importance, and of no insignificant 
 rank as an accomplishment, is a ready and graceful 
 elocution. Possessed by professional men, its value 
 can scarcely be overrated, and no young man, what- 
 ever his aims in life, should esteem it unworthy of 
 attention, since private as well as public life afford 
 constant occasion for its exercise. To read intelligi-. 
 Uy^ audibly^ and agreeably^ to speak with taste and 
 elegance, to address an audience — whether a mass 
 assemblage of the sovereign people, or the servants 
 of the people, in Congress assembled, or an intelligent 
 audience gathered for intellectual instruction and 
 enjoyment, each require careful and persevering 
 practice, critical discrimination and disciplined taste. 
 And what young American — with that control of 
 circumstances which especially distinguishes us from 
 all other peoples, with the high aspirations and pur- 
 poses to which all are equally entitled — shall say 
 that he will not have the most urgent occasion for, 
 and derive high advantage from the acquisition of 
 the Art of Elocution f But, apart from considera- 
 tions of utility, correct speaking and writing are 
 indispensable requisites to the privileges of good 
 Bociety, and elegant polish in this respect is the 
 
290 
 
 desirable result and certain indication of natural 
 refinement. 
 
 I will onlj add that elocutionary skill always 
 affords the possessor the means of promoting social 
 and domestic enjoyment, and that the finest senti- 
 ments and the most eloquent language lose half 
 their proper effect when uttered in a niumbling or 
 muttering tone, as well as in too loud or too low a 
 voice. 
 
 Closely allied to the accomplishment of which we 
 have been speaking, is that of Conversational ease 
 and elegance^ an art in which all other nations are 
 excelled by the French, and in which we, perhaps, 
 most successfully emulate them. 
 
 Unfortunately for our social advancement in this 
 respect, 
 
 " The well of English undefiled'''' 
 
 is not the only source from which the vehicle of 
 thought is derived. The use of slang phrases, of 
 crack words, even among the better educated classes 
 of society — and that in writing as well as in conver- 
 sation — is becoming noticeably prevalent. E^othing 
 can be more detrimental to the advancement of 
 those who desire to acquire colloquial polish than 
 the habit of using this inelegant language, and 
 there is nothing into which one may glide more 
 insensibly, when it becomes familiar from asso- 
 ciation. 
 
 You will, perhaps, say that the amusement 
 afforded to others by the occasional adoption of these 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 291 
 
 mirth-provoking vulgarisms alFcrds an apology for 
 their nse ; and that would be a legitimate excuse, 
 did the matter end there. But who can hope suc- 
 cessfully to establish the line of demarcation that 
 shall separate the legitimate sphere of their applica- 
 bility fyom that in which they cannot properly claim 
 a place? We know how much we are all under 
 the dominion of habit in regard to the artificial 
 observances of life, and that once established, any 
 practice in which we indulge ourselves may mani- 
 fest itself unconsciously to us. Hence, then, it is no 
 more safe to acquire the habit of interlarding our 
 discourse with inelegances of expression, ungram- 
 matical language, Yankeeisms, localisms (to coin a 
 word if it be not one, more expressive here than 
 proviiicialisms) or vulgarisms of any kind, than to 
 permit ourselves the perpetration of other solecisms 
 in good-breeding, with the protection only of a 
 mental limitation to their undue encroachment upon 
 our claims to refined associations. 
 
 There is, therefore, no safe rule, except that 
 dictating the unvarying adoption of the purest and 
 most exp'esswe idiomatic English we can command. 
 I remember to have heard it said of a celebrated 
 conversationist, whom I knew in my younger 
 days, that he not only always used a good word to 
 express his meaning, but the very lest word afiPorded 
 by our language. 
 
 The habit of thinking clea/rly might naturally be 
 supposed to produce the power of conveying ideas 
 to others with distinctness, were not the impressioD 
 
292 THE AMERICAN GENTLEMAn's GUIDE 
 
 controverted by much evidence to the contrary. I 
 must believe, however, that the difference between 
 persons, in this respect, arises more frequently from 
 want of attention to the subject, than from all 
 other causes combined. I know of no other way 
 of sufficiently explaining the awkward, slipshod, 
 unsatisfactory mode of talking so common even 
 among educated people. "Were we accustomed to 
 regarding conversational pleasures as among the 
 highest enjoyments of existence, and of making 
 them a part of our daily life — as the French of all 
 ranks do — a vast difference would exist between 
 what is, and what might be. With what intensity 
 of interest, with what vivacity of manner do the 
 polite and cultivated French talk ! The salons of 
 the leaders of ton in Paris are nightly filled with 
 the literati, the artists, the soldiers and statesmen 
 concentered in that brilliant capitol. And they 
 assemble not to eat, not even to dance, to the exclu- 
 sion of all other gratifications, but to talk — to 
 exchange ideas upon topics and incidents of passing 
 interest — to receive and to communicate instruction, 
 as well as enjoyment. And even the common 
 people — whether eating their frugal evening repast 
 at a little table placed in the street, or seated in 
 groups in the garden of the Tuileries — how they 
 talk ! with what ahandon — to use their own word — 
 with what geniality, with what sprightliness I The 
 very children, sporting like so many birds of 
 gorgeous plumage, and musical tones, in the public 
 gardens and promenades, prattle of matters into- 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 293 
 
 resting to them, with a graceful vivacity nowhere 
 else to be seen. All classes give themselves up to 
 it — take time for it^ as one of the necessities of 
 daily life ! But I should apologize for this digres- 
 sion. 
 
 The advantage of habitual jpractice^ then, cannot 
 be too highly commended to those who would 
 acquire colloquial skill. There is, also, no better 
 mode of fastening knowledge in the mind, than 
 by accustoming one's self to clothing ideas in 
 spoken language, and the mere attempt to do so, 
 gives distinctness to thought. 
 
 But while fluency and ease are the results of 
 practice, the embellishments of conversation require 
 careful culture. Wit, Humor, Repartee, though to 
 some extent natural gifts, may undoubtedly be 
 improved, if not attained, by artificial training. 
 
 It is said that Sheridan, one of the most cele- 
 brated wits and conversationists of his day, pre- 
 pared himself for convivial occasions, like an 
 intellectual gladiator, ready to enter the lists in a 
 valiant struggle for supremacy. He may be said to 
 have made Conversation a Profession^ to which he 
 gave his whole attention, as did the celebrated 
 youth who exceeded all his fellows in the tie of his 
 neck-cloth, to that mysterious art 1 
 
 Sheridan's practice was, to make brief notes, 
 before going into society, of appropriate topics and 
 witticisms for each occasion, upon which he relied 
 for sustaining his reputation as a boon companion 
 and accomplished talker. There is a good story 
 
told of his being exceedingly nonplussed, on some 
 important occasion, by having his memoranda pur- 
 loined* by a friend, who, while waiting to accom- 
 pany the wit to an entertainment to which both 
 were invited, stole his thunder from his dressing- 
 table, where it had been placed in readiness. The 
 unlucky literary Boanerges was as powerless as 
 Jupiter robbed of his bolts ! 
 
 But if one would not desire preparation as elabo- 
 rately artificial as that ascribed to this spoiled fond- 
 ling of English aristocracy, there seems to be a pro- 
 priety in making some mental, as well as external 
 arrangements before entering society. Thus, pass- 
 ingly to reflect, while making one's toilet for such 
 an occasion, upon the general character of the com- 
 pany one is to meet, and upon the subjects most 
 appropriate for conversation with those with whom 
 one will probably be individually associated, may 
 not be amiss. 'Nor will it be unwise to recall such 
 reminiscences of personal adventures, popular intelli- 
 gence, etc., as the day may have furnished. 
 
 Happily, however, for those who distrust their 
 power to surprise by erudition, or delight by 
 wit, good-sense, accompanied by good-humor and 
 courtesy, render their possessors the most endur- 
 ingly agreeable of social and domestic compa- 
 nions. Tlie favorites of society are usually those 
 who wound no one's self-love, either by imposing 
 upon others a painful sense of inferiority, or by 
 rudeness, impertinence, or assumption. Few have 
 sufficient magnanimity to forgive superiority, but 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 295 
 
 good-nature and politeness need no excuse with 
 any. 
 
 " Oh, let the ungentle spirit learn from hence, 
 A small unkindness is a great offence I 
 * * * » • 
 
 All may shun the guilt of giving pain^ 
 
 Wit, however racy, should never find a place in 
 conversation when pointed at the expense of another, 
 and, indeed, personalities, even when free from con* 
 demnation on this score, are usually in bad taste. 
 People of sensibility and refinement are much more 
 likely to be annoyed than gratified by being made 
 the auditors of conversation, even when politely in- 
 tended, which brings them into especial notice. 
 
 Hence, nothing requires more delicacy and tact 
 than the language of compliment, which should 
 always be carefully distinguished from that of mere 
 flattery. The one is the expression of well-bred cour- 
 tesy, the other is oppressive and embarrassing to all 
 rightly constituted persons, and discreditable to the. 
 taste by which it is dictated. 
 
 As a general rule, it is better to talk of things 
 TFian of persons, and William Penn's rule to " say 
 nothing of others, unless you can say something good 
 of them^'^ should have no exception. Let nothing 
 tempt you into the habit of indulging in gossip, 
 scandal, and unmanly puerility — not even a good- 
 natured desire to assimilate yourself to the compa- 
 nionship of temporary associates. In this respect, 
 as in many others, 
 
296 THE AMERICAN 6enTLEMAN's GUIDE 
 
 " Vice is a monster of such hideous mien, 
 As to be hated, needs but to be seen ; 
 But seen too oft, familiar with her face, 
 We first endure, then pity, then embrace." 
 
 "No conscientiously- enlightened man can reflect 
 for a moment upon the heinonsness of slander, or 
 indeed of evil speaking when not allied with false- 
 hood, without abhorrence ; and yet, how few can 
 assume that, in H eaven's High Chancery, there is no 
 Buch dark record against them. 
 
 Permit me to remind you that a mere difference 
 of intonation or of emphasis, in repeating conversa- 
 tional remarks, will sometimes suffice to convey a 
 wholly erroneous impression to others, and that a 
 mysterious glance, a nod, a shrug, a smile, may be 
 made equivalent to the " offense of spoken wordsP 
 
 I have recommended the adoption of good, pure 
 English as the most unexceptionable colloquial coin. 
 Recurring to this point, let me express the opinion 
 that the most pretentious, or erudite language, is 
 not always that best adapted to the purposes of prac- 
 tical life. No one is bound to speak ungrammati- 
 cally or incorrectly, even when communicating with 
 the illiterate, but the simplest phraseology, as well 
 as the most laconic, is often the most appropriate 
 and expressive, under such circumstances. 
 
 Companionship with the educated justifies the 
 use, without justly incurring the charge Q>i pedantry, 
 of every mode of conveying ideas that we are assured 
 is intelligible to them. Thus classical scholars may 
 use the learned languages, if they will, in mutual in- 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 29T 
 
 tercoiirse ; and the popular and familiar words and 
 phrases we have borrowed from the French, are 
 often a convenient resource, under similar circum- 
 stances. All this is best regulated by good-breeding 
 and taste. It is always desirable to err on the safe 
 side, where there is a possibility of misapprehension, 
 or of incurring the imputation of affectation, or of a 
 love of display. 
 
 This last consideration, by the way, affords an 
 additional incentive to the selection of such compa- 
 nionship as is best suited to elicit the exercise of 
 conversational grace, and stimulate the mental culti- 
 vation upon which it must be based. In addition to 
 this advantage, is that thus afforded of familiarizing 
 one's self with the usagesof those who maybe regarded 
 as models for the inexperienced. The modesty so 
 becoming in the young, will inspire a wish to listen 
 rather than talk ; but — though to be an attentive 
 and interested listener is one of the most agreeable 
 and expressive of compliments — remember that 
 ^practice, if judiciously directed, cannot be too soon 
 attempted, to secure this desirable attainment. 
 
 These remarks, I am fully aware, have been desul- 
 tory and digressive, but they were designed to be 
 rather suggestive than satisfactory ; and experimen- 
 tal knowledge will, I trust, more than compensate 
 you for my conscious deficiencies. I will add only a 
 general remark or two, and then no longer tax your 
 patience. 
 
 The ladies — dear creatures ! — are most prone, it 
 must be admitted, to the use of exaggerated language, 
 
298 
 
 in conversation ; with them the superlative form of 
 the adjective will alone suffice for the full expression 
 of feeling or opinion. But this peculiarity is by no 
 means confined to those in whom enthusiasm and its 
 natural expression are most becoming. The sterner 
 sex are far from being exempt from this habit, which, 
 often involves looseness of thought^ inaceuracy of 
 statement^ or positive untruthfulness. It is desirable, 
 as a point of ethics, to practise care in this regard. 
 Using the strongest forms of expression on ordinary 
 occasions, leaves one no reserved corps of language 
 for those requiring unusual impressiveness. Accu- 
 racy is the great essential, many times, in the choice 
 of language. A clear idea, clearly and unequivocally 
 expressed, is indicative of a good and well-disci- 
 plined intellect, each, as I have before intimated, the 
 result of attention and practice. 
 
 Well-bred people are careful, when obliged to dif- 
 fer with others in conversation, to do so in polite 
 language, and never to permit the certainty of being 
 in the right to induce a dictatoral or assuming man- 
 ner. When only a difierence of opinion or of taste 
 is involved, young persons, particularly, should scru- 
 pulously abstain from any appearance of obstinacy, 
 or self-sufficiency, and defend their impressions, if at 
 all, with a courteous deference to others. Usually, 
 nothing is gained by argument in general society. 
 !No one is convinced, because no one wishes to be, 
 and many persons, even when * convinced, will argue 
 still,' because unwilling, from wounded self-love, to 
 adnut it. Much acrimony of feeling is engendered 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 299 
 
 in this way — ^pertinacity often causing an unpleasant 
 conclusion to what was begun in entire good-feeling. 
 ISTo one is bound to renounce a claim to his individ- 
 ual rights in this respect, but modesty and courtesy 
 will never sit ill upon the young, while steadfastly 
 defending even a point of principle. " Never," said 
 Mr. Madison, in an admirable letter of advice to a 
 nephew, " never forget that^ precisely in proportion 
 as you differ from others in opinion^ they differ with 
 youy Let me add, that they who are honestly seek- 
 ing knowledge and truth, will carefully review and 
 re-weigh opinions, tastes, and principles in regard to 
 which they find themselves differing essentially with 
 those whom age, experience, and learning render 
 their admitted superiors. 
 
 And if contradiction and opinionativeness are 
 inadmissible in good society, at least equal taste and 
 tact are required in conveying information to others. 
 Some graceful phrase, some self-renouncing admis- 
 sion or explanation, which may secure you from the 
 envy or dislike that wounded vanity might otherwise 
 engender, should not be forgotten when circumstance 
 or education give you an advantage over others in 
 the intercourse of domestic or social life. 
 
 •♦ As in smooth oil the razor best is whet, 
 So wit is by politeness sharpest set ; 
 Their want of edge from their offense is seen ^ 
 Both pain us least when exquisitely keen, 
 The fame men give it for th^joy they find P^ 
 
 It ifl usually in bad taste to talk of one's self lu 
 
300 
 
 general society. Humility of language, in this re 
 spect, may easily be interpreted into insincerity, iind 
 it is at least equally difficult, on the other hand, to 
 avoid the imputation of egotism. Frankness with 
 those to whom you are bound by the ties of friend- 
 ship, will, many times, be the best proof you can give 
 of the sincerity of your confidence and regard, but 
 this will in no degree interfere with a certain self- 
 abnegation in ordinary social intercourse. Politeness 
 may dictate «ur being listened to with a semblance of 
 interest, when our own health, affairs, adventures, or 
 misfortunes are the subject of detailed discourse on 
 our part, but the sympathy of the world is not easily 
 enkindled, and pity is often mingled with contempt. 
 People go into society to be amused, not to have 
 their courtesy taxed by appeals to sensibilities upon 
 which others have no claim. Carlyle has well said, 
 ^'Silently swallow the chagrins of your ^position; 
 every ^position has themP And it is so ; but one's 
 " private griefs " are not lessened by exposure, not 
 made more endurable by being constantly the theme, 
 either of one's thoughts or conversation. Let me add 
 that their legitimate use is to teach us a ready sym- 
 pathy with the sorrows and trials of others, rather 
 than a hardened self-engrossment. 
 "While you endeavor, therefore, to 
 
 " Conceal yoursel' as weel's ye can 
 Frae critical dissection," 
 
 Beek to excel in pei*sonal agreeability, not for the sake 
 of superiorit}^ so much as to secure the means of giv- 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 301 
 
 ing pleasure to otliers, and of entitling yourself to 
 the favorable regard of those whose society it is desi- 
 rable to enjoy. Even the readiest admirers of wit 
 may weary of the very brilliancy of its flashes, if the 
 coruscations too constantly recur, as the eye tires of 
 sheet-lightning, often repeated ; but who will weary 
 of geniality, amiability, and 
 
 " Good breeding, the blossom of good sense," 
 
 any sooner than will the eye of the lambent light of 
 fair Diana ? 
 
 No single characteristic of conversation, perhaps, so 
 universally commends the possessor to the favor of 
 society, as cheerfulness. "^ laugh^'^ said an emi- 
 nent observer of society, " is the test vocal music / it 
 is a glee in which everybody can take part /" I re- 
 member, once, being for some weeks in a hotel with 
 a number of invalids, one of whom, though a con- 
 stant sufferer, always met me with a pleasant smile, 
 and uttered his passing salutations in a voice cheery 
 as a hunter's horn. Really, his simple " Good morn- 
 ing, Colonel Lunettes," was so replete with good- 
 humor, courtesy, and cheerfulness, as to do one good 
 like a cordial. It so impressed me that, at length, 
 I responded, " Good morning, cheerful sir, — I believe 
 you never fail to greet your friends in a manner that 
 gives them pleasure." His pleasant smile grew 
 pleasanter, and his bright eye brighter, as he re- 
 plied — "I always make a principle of speaking 
 cheerfully to the sick, especially — they, of all oth- 
 ers, are most susceptible to outward impressions." 
 
302 
 
 *' There is a world of philosophy, as well as of hu- 
 manity, in what you say," returned I, " and I can 
 personally testify to the good effects of your kindly 
 habit." 
 
 But it is not alone the sick, the sad, or the sensitive 
 who hail a cheerful companion with delight — these 
 Human Sunheams bring warmth and gladness to all 
 ■ — even the least susceptible feel the effects of 
 their genial presence, almost unconsciously, and fre- 
 quently seek and enjoy their conversation when even 
 elegance and erudition would fail of attraction. 
 
 The same tact and self-respect that will preserve 
 you from exhibitions of vanity and egotism, will 
 dictate discrimination in the selection of topics of 
 conversation, bearing upon matters of taste and sen- 
 timent, as well as of opinion and principle. — All 
 affectation or assumption of superiority in this re- 
 spect is offensive and worse than useless. Those with 
 whom you have mental affinities will understand and 
 appreciate you ; but beware, especially if sensitively 
 constituted, how you expose your sensibilities to the 
 ridicule, or 3^our principles to the professed distrust 
 of those with whom, for any reason, you cannot 
 measure colloquial weapons upon entirely equal 
 terms. 
 
 On the contrary, again, no well-bred man ever 
 rudely assails either the predilections or the princi- 
 ples of others in general society. This is no more 
 the proper arena for intellectual conflicts than for 
 political sparring, or theological disputes. Whatever 
 tends to disturb the general harmony of a circle, or 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 
 
 to give pain to any one present, is inexcusable, how* 
 ever truthful and important in the abstract, however 
 wise or witty in itself considered, may be observa- 
 tions tending to either or both results. 
 
 This brings me to dwelling a moment upon a kin- 
 dred point — the discourtesy sometimes exhibited by 
 young men towards ladies and clergymen, in the use 
 of equivocal language, and the introduction of excep- 
 tionable subjects in their hearing. Anything that 
 will crimson the cheek of true womanhood, or in- 
 vade the unconsciousness of innocence^ is imworthy 
 and unmanly, to a degree of which it is not easy 
 to find language to express sufficient abhorrence. 
 The defencelessness of the dependent sex, in this, as 
 in all other respects, is their best protection with all 
 who — 
 
 " Give the world assurance of a man H 
 
 And the same shield is presented by those whose 
 profession precludes their adopting the means of self- 
 defence permitted to the world at large. ^Nothing 
 can be more vulgar — setting aside the immorality of 
 the thing — than to speak disrespectfully of religion, or 
 of its advocates and professors, in society — what then 
 shall be said of those who assail the ears of the 
 acknowledged champions of Christianity with infidel 
 sentiments, contemptuous insinuations, or profane 
 expletives ? Depend upon it, a man of the world 
 whatever his honest doubts, or unorthodox convic- 
 tions, will be as little likely to present himself as a 
 mark in. regard to these matters for the suspicious 
 distrust^ or the palpable misapprehension of society', 
 
304: THE AMERICAN GENTLEMAN'S GUIDE 
 
 as to subject himself to the charges of extreme /w^6/^ 
 tlity and low hreeding by assailing a clergyman with 
 ridicule, or a woman with libertinism, however 
 exquisite may be his wit in the one case, or appar- 
 ently refined his insinuations, in the other. 
 
 While recommending to your attention the selec- 
 tion of suitable and tasteful subjects of general con- 
 versation, I should not omit to remind you that 
 nothing but acknowledged intimacy sanctions the 
 manifestation of curiosity respecting the affairs of 
 others. As a rule, direct questions are inadmissible 
 in good society. Listen with politeness to what may 
 be voluntarily communicated to you by your asso- 
 ciates, regarding themselves, but on no account, in- 
 dulge an impertinent curiosity in such matters ; and 
 when courtesy sanctions the manifestation of interest, 
 express your desire for information in polite lan- 
 guage, and with a half-apologetic manner, that will 
 permit reserve, without embarrassment to either 
 party. Let me add, that an uncalled-for exhibition 
 of your familiarity with the private affairs of a friend, 
 when his own presence and manner should furnish 
 your proper clue to his wishes, is to prove yourself 
 unworthy of his confidence. As well might one 
 boast of his acquaintance with the great, or assume 
 an unceremonious manner towards them, on unsuit- 
 able occasions. In either case, one is liable to the 
 repulse sustained by an unfortunate candidate for 
 fashionable distinction, who, approaching a member 
 of English haut ton in the streets of London, said, 
 " I believe I had the honor of knowing you in the 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 305 
 
 countiy, sir." — *' When we again meet in the coun* 
 try^'' was the reply, " I shall be pleased to renew the 
 acquaintance !" 
 
 Quickness of repartee may be reckoned among the 
 graces of the colloquial art, and those who are gifted 
 with activity of intellect, and have acquired facility 
 in the use of expressive language, should possess the 
 power thus to embellish their social intercourse. 
 Every one is now and then inspired in this way, I 
 believe; but few persons, comparatively, even 
 among the most practised conversationists, excel in 
 this respect. How few, for instance, would have re- 
 sponded as readily, in an emergency, as did the half- 
 drunk servant of Swift : 
 
 " Is my fellow here ?" inquired the Dean, pushing 
 open the door of a low tavern much frequented by 
 his often-missing valet. 
 
 A nondescript figure came staggering forward, 
 and stuttered out — " Your L- Lordship's f-a-l-l-o-w 
 canH h-he f -found in all I-Ire-Ireland P 
 
 I have lately met, somewhere in my reading, with 
 the following anecdote of the elder Adams, as he is 
 frequently called. I remember, at this moment; no 
 better illustration of ready repartee : 
 
 " How are you this morning, sir ?" asked a friend 
 who called to pay his respects to this patriotic 
 son of New England, during the latter days of his 
 life. 
 
 " Not well," replied the invalid ; " I am not well. 
 r inhabit a weak, Trail, decayed tenement, open to 
 
306 
 
 the winds, and broken in npon by the storme ; and 
 what is worse, from all I can learn^ the landlord- 
 does not intend to mahe repairs /" 
 
 A ready and graceful rejply to a compliments may, 
 also, be regarded as a conversational embellishment. 
 It is not polite to retort to the language of courtesy 
 with a charge of insincerity, or of flattery. Play- 
 fulness frequently affords the best resource, or the 
 retort courteous^ as in Lord Nelson's celebrated reply 
 to Lady Hamilton's questions of "Why do you differ 
 so much from other men ? Why are you so superior 
 to the rest of your sex?" "K there were more 
 Emmas, there would be more Nelsons." One may 
 say, " I fear I owe your commendation to the par- 
 tiality of friendship ;" or, " I trust you may never be 
 undeceived in regard to my poor accomplishments ;" 
 or, " Really, madam, your penetration enables you 
 to make discoveries for me." Then again, to one of 
 the lenient sex, one may reply — " Mrs. Blank sees 
 all her friends through the most becoming of glasses 
 — ^her own eyes." And to an older gentleman, who 
 honors you with the fiat of a compliment, thus 
 proving that it may sometimes be false that 
 
 " The vanquished have no friends," 
 
 " Eeally, sir, I do not know whether I am most over- 
 whelmed by admiration for your wit and politeness, 
 or by gratitude for your kindness." Or some phrase 
 like this will occasionally be appropriate — " I am 
 afraid, sir, I shall plume myself too highly upon your 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 307 
 
 good opinion. You do me much honor;" or, "It 
 will be my devoir^ as well as my happiness, for the 
 future, to deserve your commendation, sir ;" or, 
 " You inspire as much as you encourage me, dear 
 sir — if I possess any claim to your flattering compli- 
 ment, you have yourself elicited it." To a compli- 
 ment to one's wit, or the like, one may reply — • 
 "Dullness is always banished by the presence of 
 Miss ;" or, " Who could fail to be, in some de- 
 gree, at least, inspired in such a presence ?" Then, 
 again, a reply like this will suffice — " I am only 
 too happy in being permitted to amuse you, ma- 
 dam." 
 
 Permit me in this connection, a few words respect 
 ing conversation with ladies. Though all mere silli 
 ness and twaddle should be regarded as equally 
 unworthy of them and yourselves, yet, in general 
 association with the fairest ornaments of creation, 
 a^reeahility^ rather than profundity, should be your 
 aim, in the choice of topics. Sensitive, tasteful, 
 refined, 
 
 " And variable as the shade 
 By the light quivering aspen made," 
 
 their vividness of imagination and sportiveness of 
 fancy demand similarity of intellectual gifts, or the 
 graceful tribute of, at least, temporary assimilation. 
 Playfulness^ cheerfulness^ versatility^ and courtesy 
 should characterize colloquial intercourse with ladies ; 
 but the deference due them should never degenerate 
 
«S08 THE AMERICAN GENTLEMAn's GUIDE 
 
 into mere servile acquiescence, or mawkish senti- 
 mentality. 
 
 The utmost refinement of language and of matter 
 should always be regarded as essential, under such 
 circumstances, to the discourse of a well-bred man ; 
 and should, of course, distinguish his manner as well. 
 Thus, all slang phrases, everything approaching to 
 double entendre^ all familiarity of address, unsanc- 
 tioned by relationship or acknowledged intimacy, all 
 mis-timed or unsanctioned use of nick-names and 
 Christian names, are as inadmissible in good society 
 as are personal familiarities, nudging, winking, whis- 
 pering, etc. 
 
 Too much care cannot be taken in avoiding all 
 subjects that may have the eifect to wound or dis- 
 tress others. I think I have before remarked that 
 people go into society for enjoyment — relaxation 
 from the grave duties and cares of life — ^not to be 
 depressed by the misanthropy of others, or disturbed 
 by details of scenes of horror. 1 have known per- 
 sons who had such a morbid taste for such things as 
 always to insist upon reading aloud, even in the 
 hearing of children and ladies, the frightful news- 
 paper details of rail-road accidents and steamboat 
 explosions. I remember, in particular, once having 
 the misfortune to be acquainted with such a social 
 incubus, to whom a death in the neighborhood was 
 a regular God-send, and to whom the wholesale 
 slaughter made by the collision of rail-cars served as 
 colloquial capital for weeks — indeed until some pro- 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 309 
 
 vident body corporate supplied new material for Ms 
 cormorant powers of mental digestion ! His letters 
 to distant friends were a regular hill of mortality^ 
 filled with minute accounts of the peculiar form of 
 disease by which every old woman of his acquaint- 
 ance was enabled to shuffle off this mortal coil, and of 
 every accident that occurred in the country for miles 
 around — ^from the sudden demise of a poor widow's 
 cow, to the broken leg of a robber of bird's-nests ! I 
 shall never forget the revulsion of feeling he pro- 
 duced for me, one serene summer evening, as I was 
 placidly strolling over the sands by the sea-shore, 
 drinking in the glory of old Neptune's wide-spread 
 realm, by inflicting upon me, not only himself— 
 which was enough for mortal patience — but a long 
 rigmarole about the great numbers of fishes washed 
 upon the shore by a recent storm, who had had their 
 eyes picked out by birds of prey, while still strug- 
 gling for life in an uncongenial element! On 
 another occasion, I had the misfortune to be pre- 
 sent when a young lady was thrown into violent 
 hysterics by his mentioning, with as much gitsto as 
 an inveterate " collector " would have exhibited in 
 boasting the possession of a steak from the celebrated 
 " antediluvian beef," immortalized by Cuvier,* that 
 he had picked up a small foot with a lady's boot on 
 
 * Speaking in one of his public lectures, of the recent discovery 
 (amid the eternal snows of Siberia, I think), of the carcass of a 
 mastodon^ upon which the hunting-dogs of the explorers had fed 
 — " Thus" said the great naturalist, " did modern dogs gorge them' 
 aelves upon antediluvian heefP 
 
310 
 
 it, while visiting the scene of a late rail-road acci- 
 dent I 
 
 But avoiding these aggravated forms of grossnesa 
 :8 not enough. True politeness requires attention to 
 the peculiarities of each of the company you are with 
 — teaching, for instance, your abstaining from allu- 
 sions to their personal defects or misfortunes, to the 
 embarrassment of conversing with deaf persons, in 
 the presence of those thus afflicted, to lameness, 
 when some one present has lost a limb, to the pecu- 
 liarities of age, in the hearing of elderly persons, to 
 the vulgar impression that all lawyers are knaves, 
 when one of the sons of that noble profession is 
 among your auditors — to the murderous reputation 
 of the disciples of Esculapius, etc. This rule will 
 teach, too, the use of a less offensive term than that 
 of " old maid," when speaking of women of no parti- 
 cular age, in the hearing of such as are by courtesy 
 only, without the pale alluded to ; and the propriety 
 of not appealing to such authority in relation to 
 matters of remote personal remembrance I 
 
 In no country with the social institutions of which 
 I am familiar, do the peculiar opinions obtain, which 
 'prevail in this country respecting age. "Young 
 America " regards every one as old, apparently, who 
 has attained majority, and women, in particular, are 
 subjected to a most unjust ordeal in this respect. 
 The French have a popular saying that no woman 
 is agreeable until she is forty ; and in both France 
 and England, marriage — which first entitles a young 
 lady to a decided position in society — usually occurs 
 
TO POLITENESS AKD FASHION. 311 
 
 at a much later period in her life than with us. In 
 neither of those countries are girls hrought out at an 
 age when here they are frequently already mothers I 
 But to return : nothing is more ill-bred, than this 
 too frequent assumption of the claims of women to 
 be exempt from social obligations and deprived of 
 their proper places in society, in this country, while 
 still retaining all their pristine claims to agreeability. 
 Polished manners, cultivated tastes and personal 
 attractions, are not to have their claims . abrogated 
 by Time. You remember the poet says : 
 
 " The little Loves are infants ever, 
 The Graces are of every age !" 
 
 I well remember being intensely chagrined by an 
 exhibition of under-breeding in this way while 
 making a morning visit, with a young countryman 
 of ours, upon a beautiful English girl, a distant rela- 
 tive of his. 
 
 After discussing London fogs, and other kindred 
 topics, Jonathan suddenly burst forth, as if suddenly 
 inspired with a bright thought. 
 
 "How's the old lady?" 
 
 The largest pair of blue eyes, opening to their 
 full extent, turned wonderingly upon the querist. 
 
 " Your mother, — is she well this morning ?" 
 
 " Mamma is pretty well, thank you ; but it is not 
 possible that you regard her as old ! Mamma is in 
 the very prime of life, only just turned of five and 
 forty ! Dear mother I she is looking very pale and 
 sad in her widow's cap, but we have never thought 
 
312 
 
 of her as old^'^ and a shadow, like the sudden darken- 
 ing of a fair landscape, dimmed those deep blue eyes 
 and that fine forehead. 
 
 But enough upon this collateral point. 
 
 I trust you will need no argument to convince you 
 of the vulgarity and immorality of permitting your- 
 selves the practice of repeating pHvate conversation. 
 Nothing will more surely tend to deprive you of 
 the respect and friendship of well-bred people, since 
 nothing is more thoroughly understood in good 
 society, than a tacit recognition of that essential 
 security to social confidence and good-feeling which 
 utterly interdicts the repetition of private conversa- 
 tion. 
 
 Let me only add to these rambling observations 
 the assurance that a ready compliance with the 
 wishes of others, in exercising any personal accom- 
 plishment, is a mark of genuine good-breeding. 
 
 During one of my visits to London, some years 
 
 since, the Duke of invited me to run down with 
 
 him, for a few days, to his magnificent estate in 
 shire. 
 
 Riding one morning with my host and a nume-" 
 rous party of his guests, we paused to breathe 
 our horses, and enjoy the fine prospect, upon the 
 summit of a hill overlooking the wide-spread acres 
 of his lordship. 
 
 " Here the estate of my neighbor, Mr. , joins 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASEION. 31S 
 
 my land," said the Duke, pointing, with his riding- 
 whip, towards a narrow, thickly-wooded valley, at 
 our feet. " You catch a glimpse of his turrets 
 through the oaks yonder. This spot always reminds 
 me," pursued our host, laughing, " of an amusing 
 incident of which it was the scene, years ago, when 
 the family of my neighbor had not become as distin- 
 guished as it now is, among the philanthropists of 
 the age. A young friend of ours, who was spend- 
 ing the shooting-season here with my sons, while 
 eagerly pursuing his game, one morning, uncon- 
 sciously trespassed upon the preserves of Mr. . 
 
 The report of his fowling-piece brought Mr. 
 
 suddenly to his side, just as he was triumphantly 
 bagging his bird. My excellent neighbor, with all 
 his admirable qualities, is sometimes a little chol- 
 eric, and you know. Col. Lunettes, [bowing and 
 smiling] that notliing sooner rouses the ire of a true 
 Englishman, than an invasion of the Game Laws^ 
 
 "'Sir!' cried Mr. , in a voice trembling with 
 
 ill-suppressed fury, ' do you know that you are tres- 
 passing, — that these are my grounds?' 
 
 "'My young guest was not permitted fully to 
 explain, before the angiy man again burst forth with 
 a tirade, which he concluded, by asking — ' "What 
 would you do yourself, sir, under such circumstances? 
 How would you feel disposed to treat a gentleman 
 who had encroached upon your rights in this way?' 
 
 "'Well, really, sir, since you ask me, I think I 
 should invite him to go with me to the hoiise atid 
 take a mouthful of lunch /' " 
 
 14 
 
314 
 
 This was irresistible! Even 's indignation 
 
 was cooled bj such inimitable sangfroid^ and he at 
 once adopted the suggestion of the young sportsman. 
 My witty guest not only secured the refreshment 
 he needed, but, eventually, helped himself to a 
 honne louche of more substantial character, by his 
 marriage with one of the blooming daughters of 
 my neighbor, to whom he was introduced on that 
 memorable occasion !" 
 
 A young American of my acquaintance, met, not 
 long since, in the salons of a distinguished Paris- 
 ienne, one of the most learnedly scientific of the 
 French authors of our times. 
 
 " I am as much surprised as I am delighted, to 
 
 meet you here to-night, Mr. ," said my friend, 
 
 'I supposed you too much occupied in profound 
 research and study, to find time for such enjoy- 
 ments." 
 
 " I am, indeed, much occupied at present," return- 
 ed the savant / " but I can neither more agreeably 
 HOT more profitably spend a portion of my time tlian 
 in the society of my refined and cultivated friend, 
 
 Madame , and that of the intellectual and 
 
 accomplished visitors I always meet at her house." 
 
 Speaking, in the body of this letter, of the useless- 
 ness of arguing with the hope of convincing others. 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. Sl^ 
 
 reminded me, by association, of a little incident 
 illustrative of my opinion, of which I was once a 
 witness, during a summer sojourn at Avon Springs 
 — a little quiet watering-place in the Empire State, 
 as you may know. 
 
 There was a pleasant company of us, and our 
 intercourse was agreeable and friendly — all, appa- 
 rently, disposed to contribute to the general stock of 
 anmsement, and to make the most of our somewhat 
 limited resources in the way of general entertain- 
 ment. There were pretty daughters and managing 
 mammas, heiresses, and ladies without fortune, who 
 were quite as attractive as those whose fetters were 
 of gold, the usual complement of brainless youths, 
 antiquated bachelors and millionaire widowers (so 
 reputed), with a sprinkling "of nondescripts and old 
 soldiers, like myself. 
 
 It was our custom to muster, in great force, every 
 morning, and go in a mammoth omnibus from our 
 hotel to the " Spring '' to bathe and drink the 
 delectable sulphur-water, there abounding. On 
 these occasions, every one was good-humored, oblig- 
 ing, and cheerfully inclined to make sacrifices for 
 the comfort and convenience of others. The ladies^ 
 especially, were the objects of particular care and 
 courtesy, being always politely assisted up and 
 down the high, awkward steps of our lumbering 
 conveyance, with their bathing parcels, etc. 
 
 " All went merry as a marriage bell," 
 
 until one unlucky day when some theological point 
 
31% 
 
 became matter of discussion between two men of 
 opposite opinions, just as we were commencing our 
 return-ride from the Spring. Others were soon 
 drawn, first into listening, and then into a partici- 
 pation in the conversation, until almost every man 
 in the company had betrayed a predilection for the 
 distinctive tenets of some particular religious sect. 
 Thus, Baptists, Presbyterians, Methodists, Congrega- 
 tionalists. Episcopalians, Unitarians, and Eomanists 
 stood revealed, each the ardent champion of his 
 own peculiar views. The ladies had the good sense 
 to remain silent, with the exception of an "Equal 
 Rights " woman, whose wordy interposition clearly 
 proved that 
 
 ** Fools rush in where angels fear to tread /" 
 
 Well! of course, no one was convinced by this 
 sudden outbreak of varied eloquence of the fallacy 
 of opinions he had previously entertained, and of 
 the superior wisdom of those of any one of his 
 companions. Indeed, so eager was each in the 
 maintenance of his own ground, as scarcely to heed 
 the arguments of his opponents, except as furnish- 
 ing a fresh impulse for advancing his own with 
 increasing pertinacity. 
 
 Presently, flushed cheeks, angry glances, and 
 louder tones gave token that the meek spirit of the 
 long-suffering Prince of .Peace was not dominant in 
 the breasts of these, the professed advocates of his 
 doctrines. Rude language, too, gradually took the 
 place of the professed courtesy with which the discus- 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 817 
 
 Bion had begun, and the ladies looked uneasily from 
 the windows, as if to satisfy themselves that escape 
 from such disagreeable association was near at hand. 
 Happily for them, our Jehu, though unmindful of 
 any particular occasion for haste, at length drew up 
 before Comstock's portico. But, in place of the 
 usual patient waiting of each for his turn to alight, 
 and the usual number of extended hands that were 
 wont to aid the ladies in their descent, every one of 
 the angry combatants crowded hastily out of the 
 vehicle, almost before it had fairly stopped, wholly 
 disregardful alike of the toes of his neighbors and 
 the claims before universally accorded to the gentler 
 portion of our company, and hurried up the steps, 
 apparently forgetful of everything except the un-. 
 comfortable chafings of wounded self-love ! Each 
 man, evidently, regarded himself as the most abused 
 of mortals, and the rest as a parcel of obstinate fools, 
 for whom it were a great waste of ammunition to 
 assume the martyr's fate ! And I am by no means 
 sure, that the cheerful amicability that had before 
 prevailed among us was ever fully restored after 
 this unhappy outbreak of religious feeling ! 
 
 The gayest of capitals experienced a sensation I 
 The wittiest of circles, where all was wit, were, for 
 once, content to listen only ! The brave, the great, 
 the learned, and the fair, contended for the smiles 
 and the society of the Marquis de Plusesprit, the 
 
318 
 
 handsomest, the most accomplished, and the wittiest 
 man in Paris ! 
 
 One day, while this qoq,i2\ furore was at its height, 
 a celebrated physician received a professional visit 
 from an unknown, whose pale cheeks and sunken 
 eyes bore testimony to the suffering to which he 
 described himself as being a prey. The man of 
 science prepared a prescription, but assured his 
 patient that what would most speedily effect his 
 restoration was change of scene and agreeable 
 society. 
 
 " Seek in congenial companionship relief from 
 the mental anxiety by which you are evidently 
 oppressed," said the modem Esculapius — " fly from 
 study and self-contemplation ; — above all, court the 
 society of the Marquis de Plu^esprit /" 
 
 " Alas I doctor," returned the stranger, " / am 
 Plusesprit /" 
 
 Speaking of Kepartee, reminds me of a pretty scene 
 of which I was a witness, not long since, while rural- 
 izing for a week with an old friend and his charming 
 daughters, at their beautiful and hospitable home, 
 on the banks of the Hudson. By the way, I have 
 before introduced you to their acquaintance — the 
 pleasant family of letter-writing memory ! — 
 
 An elderly foreign gentleman, of large information 
 and agreeable manners, but not one of fortune's 
 favorites, had been dining with us, by special invita- 
 tion, and the lovely daughters of my host had vied 
 
TO POLITENESS AlifD FASHIOK. 31^ 
 
 with each other in doing honor to one in wliom sen- 
 sitiveness may have been rendered a little morbid 
 by the effect of the tyrant Circumstance. Every 
 hour succeeding his arrival had served more effec- 
 tually to melt away a certain constraint of manner, 
 by which he seemed at first oppressed, and his expres- 
 Bive face grew bland and genial under the sunny 
 influences of courteous respect and appreciation, until 
 when he rose to go away at sunset, he seemed almost 
 metamorphosed out of the man of the morning. 
 
 The sisters three, accompanied their agreeable 
 visitor to the vine- draped veranda, where I was 
 already seated, attracted by the beauty of the even- 
 ing, and of my local surroundings. I had been par- 
 ticularly admiring a line large orange-tree, at the 
 entrance of the porch, which was laden with flowers 
 and fruit, and, witli glittering pearls from a shower 
 just bestowed upon it by the gardener. 
 
 "Will you not come again, before Colonel Lu- 
 nettes leaves, us, Mr. ?" asked my sweet young 
 
 friend Fanny, in her most cordial tones, linking her 
 arm in that of one sister, and clasping the waist of the 
 other, as she spoke, " we will invoke the Loves and 
 Graces to attend you " 
 
 "The Graces!" exclaimed the guest, quickl}^, — 
 extending his hands towards the group, and bowing 
 profoundly — " then you will come yourselves ! — the 
 Graces are before me .'" And then he added, with a 
 courtly air — "Eeally, Miss Fanny, you too highly 
 honor a rusty old man "~ 
 
 " An old man," interrupted Fanny, with the utmost 
 
320 
 
 vivacity, dissolving the " linked sweetness " tliat had 
 int wined her with her sisters, and extending her 
 beautiful arm towards the superb orange-tree before 
 her, *' an old man ! — ^here is a fitting emblem of 
 
 our friend Mr. ; — all the attractiveness of youth 
 
 Btill mingled with the matured fruit of experience !" 
 Charming Fanny ! God bless her ! — she is one of 
 those earth- angels whose manifold gifts seem used 
 only to give happiness to others ! 
 
 I called one evening, not long since, to pay my 
 respects to the daughter of a recently-deceased and 
 much-valued friend. She had been persuaded into 
 a journey to a distant city, in search of the health and 
 spirits that had been exceedingly impaired by watch- 
 ing beside the death-bed of her departed mother. 
 Her appearance could scarcely fail, as it seemed to 
 me, to interest the most insensible stranger to her 
 history ; — for myself, I was inexpressibly touched by 
 the language of the colorless face and languid eyes 
 to which a simple black robe lent additional mean- 
 ing. 
 
 Just as I began to indulge a hope that the faint 
 smile my endeavors at cheerful conversation had 
 caused to flicker about her lips — ^as a rose-tint illu- 
 mines for a moment the white summit of an Alpine 
 height — there entered the drawing-room of our hos* 
 tess a bevy of noisy women, young and old, who 
 gathered about the sofa, where my friend and I wero 
 
TO POLITENESS AJfD FASHION. 321 
 
 seated near our hostess, and rattled away like so 
 many pieces of small (very small !) artillery. 
 
 I saw plainly that the mere noise was almost too 
 much for the nerves of the silent occupant of the sofa 
 corner ; but what was my surprise at hearing them 
 go into the most minute particulars respecting the 
 recent death of a gentleman of our acquaintance ! 
 His dying words, his very death-struggles were care- 
 fully reported, and the grief of the survivors graph- 
 ically described ! 
 
 Unfortunately, having relinquished my seat be- 
 side the mourner to one of these women, I was 
 powerless in my intense wish to attract her attention 
 from the subject of their discourse ; but my eyes 
 were riveted upon her, with the keenest sympathy 
 for the torture she must be undergoing. Her pale 
 face had gradually grown white as a moonbeam, 
 until, at length, as though strengthened by despera- 
 tion, she sprang from her seat, and essayed to leave 
 the room. One step forward, a half-stifled sob, and 
 the slender form lay extended on the floor in hapless 
 insensibility. 
 
 " While Mr. Smith is tuning his guitar, let us beg 
 Mrs. Williams to redeem her promise of reciting 
 Campbell's ' Last Man ' for us," said a graceful hos- 
 tess, mindful of the truth that some of her guests 
 preferred eloquence and poetry to sweet sounds, and 
 desirous, too, of drawing out the accomplishments. >f 
 
 all her guests. 
 
 14* 
 
322 
 
 Mrs. Williams, gifted with 
 
 " The vision and the faculty divine," 
 
 glanced a little uneasily at the ever-twanging guitar 
 as she politely assented to the requests that eagerly 
 seconded that of her hostess. Mr. Smith still contin- 
 ued to hum broken snatches of an air, twisting the 
 screws of his instrument with complete self-engross- 
 ment, the while. 
 
 " I will not interrupt Mr. Smith," said the lady, 
 in more expressive tones than were ever elicited from 
 catgut by the efforts of that gentleman, moving with 
 a step graceful as that of a gazelle to the other end 
 of the room. 
 
 Our little circle gathered about her, and enjoyed, 
 in an exquisite degree, 
 
 "The feast of reason, and the flow of soul," 
 
 that SO far surpasses the merely sensuous pleasure 
 afforded by music, when not associated with exalted 
 sentiment. 
 
 As the company broke into little groups, after 
 thanking Mrs. "Williams for the high gratification for 
 which we were her debtors, I overheard Mr. Smith 
 say, with a discontented air, to a youth with a 
 *' lovely moitstache^^^ who had " accompanied" him in 
 his previous musical endeavors, "I'll never bring 
 my instrument here again !" 
 
 At this critical moment, our hostess approached 
 with a water-ice, as a propitiatory offering, and 
 expressed the hope that the guitar was now renewed 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FABHTON. 323 
 
 for action. Tlie musician, witli offended dignity, 
 only condescended to repl}^, as he deposited his idol 
 in a corner — 
 
 "Thank you, ma'am; I supposed your friends 
 were fond of music /" 
 
 Discussing the mooted subject of beards one morn- 
 ing lately, with some sprightly young ladies of my 
 acquaintance, the following specimen of quickness 
 of repartee was elicited. I record it for your amuse- 
 ment. 
 
 " Among the ancients, I believe," said a fair girl, 
 " a long, snowy beard was considered an emblem 
 of the wisdom of the possessor." 
 
 " And how is it in modern times ?" inquired another 
 lady, " does wisdom keep pace, in exact proportion 
 with length of beard ?" > 
 
 " No, indeed," exclaimed the first speaKer, laugh- 
 ingly, "for, 
 
 " If beards long and bushy true wisdom denote, 
 Then Plato must bow to a hairy he-goat !" 
 
 What would an educated foreigner — Kossuth, for 
 instance, who learned English 5y the study of Shah- 
 sjpeare — make of the following specimens of collo- 
 quial American language ? 
 
 " Do tell, Jul," exclaimed a young lady, " where 
 have you been marvelling to ? You look like Time 
 in the primer!" 
 
324 THE AMERICAN GENTLKMAn's GUIDE 
 
 " Ko you don't," returned the young lady address- 
 ed, " you can't come it over dis chil' !" 
 
 " 'No, no," chimed in a youth of the party,' " you 
 can't come it quite, Miss Lib ! Don't try to poke 
 fun at us !" 
 
 " You've all been sparking in the woods, 1 
 guess I" 
 
 " Oh, ho," laughed one of the speakers, "I thought 
 you'd get it through your hair, at last — that's rich !" 
 
 "Why!" retorted the interlocutor, tartly, "do 
 you think I don't know tother from which?" 
 
 "I think you 'know beans' as well as most 
 Hoosiers," replied her particular admirer, in a tone 
 of unmistakable blandishment. 
 
 " Everybody knows Jul's so7ne j>u7npkins,^^ admit- 
 ted one of her fair companions. 
 
 " Come, Jul, rig yourself in a jiffy," said a bonny 
 lassie, who had not yet spoken, " you are in for a 
 spree !" 
 
 "What's in the wind — who's to stand the shot?'* 
 cautiously inquired the damsel addressed. 
 
 '' We're bound on a spree, I tell you ! You must 
 be green to think we'll own the corn now I Come, 
 fix up, immediately, if not sooner I" so saying, tho 
 energetic speaker seized her friend round the waist 
 and gallopaided her out of the room. 
 
 Presently some one said, " Well, Jul and Lotty 
 
 have made themselves scarce ! — ^I by George, 
 
 it makes a fellow open his potato-trap to hang around 
 waitin' so," and an expansive yawn attested tliti 
 sincerity of this declaration. 
 
TO POLITENESS ANL FASHION. 325 
 
 " I could scare up my traps a heap sight quicker, 
 I reckon, and tote 'em too, from here to the river, 
 nigger fashion," rejoined a Southerner, of the group. 
 
 '' Some chicken fixins and pie doins wouldn't be 
 60 bad — would they, though?" whispered a tall, 
 Western man to his next neighbor. 
 
 "And a little suthin to wet your whistle, too," 
 added another, overhearing the remark — " you're a 
 trump, anyhow !" 
 
 "Then you do kill a snake, sometimes, Mr. 
 Smith," inquired one of his auditors, smiling signifi- 
 cantly. 
 
 " Does your anxious mother know you're out V 
 retorted Mr. Smith, twirling his fingers on his nose 
 
 "Don't be wrathy, Smith — what's your tipple, 
 old fellow ?" put in one of the young men, sooth- 
 ingly stroking the broad shoulders of that interesting 
 youth. 
 
 "You're E Pluribus — you're a brick," returned 
 Mr. Smith, softening, " but where in thunder are 
 those female women ? They'ave sloped and given us 
 the mitten, I spose " 
 
 " You ain't posted up, my boy, if you think they'd 
 given us the slip," answered his friend. 
 
 "By jingo! it takes the patience of all tho world 
 and the rest of mankind to dance attendance upon 
 them — they ain't as peart as our gals d windP^ 
 cried Mr. Smith, in an ecstasy of impatience. 
 
 "How's your ma, Mr. John Smith?" inquired 
 the merry voice of "Jul," who had entered unpei> 
 ceived, " you'd better dry up !" 
 
326 
 
 " Here we are, let's be off," sliouted a young gen« 
 tleman. 
 
 " All aboard," echoed another. 
 
 "Now we'll go it with a rush!" burst from a 
 third, and, suiting the action to the word, my 
 dramatis jpersonm vanished like the wind. 
 
 Havmg the happiness to pass a morning at the 
 Louvre with my early and lamented friend, "Wash- 
 ington Allston, he said to me, as arm in arm we 
 sauntered slowly through one of the Galleries — - 
 "Come and study one of my particular favorites 
 with me — one might as well attempt to taste all the 
 nondescript dishes at a Chinese state-dinner as to 
 enjoy every picture in a collection, at a single visit. 
 I do not even glance at more than one or two, unless 
 I know that I shall have months before me for 
 renewing my inspection — better take away one dis- 
 tinct recollection, to add to one's private collection^ 
 than half a dozen confused, imperfect copies !" 
 
 I think it was a Murillo before which the artist 
 paused while speaking ; the celebrated work repre- 
 senting a monk, who had been interrupted by death 
 while writing his own biography, as being permitted 
 to return to earth to complete his self-imposed task. 
 I am not sure but this pictm^e, however, was added 
 some years later to the treasures of the Louvre, by 
 Napoleon — for we were both young men then — 
 however, it matters not. I was quite as much occu- 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 327 
 
 pied in observing the living j^cture before me, as 
 that of the great master. And, though memory has 
 proved somewhat treacherous, I still vividlj recol- 
 lect the spiritualized face of this true child of genius, 
 as he contemplated the magnificent impersonation. 
 His brow grew radiant, and his eye ! ah, who shall 
 portray that soul-lit eye, or justly record the poetic 
 language that fell, almost unconsciously, from his 
 half-inspired lips ! Sacredly are they cherished 
 among the hoarded memories of youthful friendship ? 
 It was only my purpose to recall for your benefit 
 the opinion and practice of one so fully competent 
 to advise in relation to our subject. 
 
 What Disraeli has somewhere said of eating, 
 may, with equal nicety of epicureanism, be applied 
 to the enjoyment of Ideal Art, and of that of 
 which it is the tj^pe — ^natural beauty: — "To eat, 
 really to eat," asserts the discriminatingly sensuous 
 Jew, " one should eat alone, in an easy dress, by a 
 soft light, and of a single dish at a time !" For my- 
 self — but there's no accounting for tastes ! — I should 
 desire on all such occasions, 
 
 *' One fair spirit for my minister," 
 
 or rather, for my sympathizing companion I 
 
 Ag an illustration of the advantage to a man in 
 public life^ of ready elocution and ready wit^ let me 
 sketch for you a little scene of which 1 was the 
 
328 THE AMERICAN GENTLEMAN'S GUIDE 
 
 amused and interested witness, one morning some 
 months ago, while on a visit at Washington. 
 
 A Chaplain was to be elected for the House of 
 Kepresentatives. General Granger, of INew York, 
 proposed a Soldier of the Revohition as well as of the 
 Cross — the Kev. Mr. Waldo — adding a few impres- 
 sive facts in relation to his venerable and interesting 
 friend — as that he was then in his ninety-fourth 
 year, had borne arms for his country in his youth, 
 etc. 
 
 Upon this, some member, upon the opposition 
 henches^ as the English say, called out : 
 
 " What are his claims ? where did he serve ?" 
 
 "The gentleman will permit me to refer him to 
 the Pension OflSce," returned General Granger, with 
 the most smiling urbanity ; " he will there find the 
 more satisfactory answer to his queries." 
 
 " What are Mr. Waldo's politics ?" 
 
 " Though a most amiable gentleman and devout 
 Christian, he belongs, sir, to — the Church Mili- 
 tant r 
 
 " Is he a Filibuster V* 
 
 " Even so, sir ! Mr. Waldo filibustered for the 
 Old Thirteen^ against George the Tliird, in the 
 American Revolution !" 
 
 1 am, my dear boys, as ever, 
 
 Your affectionate, 
 
 "Uncle Hal.*' 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 329 
 
 LETTEK X. 
 
 HABIT. 
 
 My dear Friends : 
 
 If you wish to have power to say, in the 
 words of the imperial slave of the beautiful Egyptian, 
 
 " Let me, 
 
 With those hands that grasp'd the heaviest club, 
 Subdue my worthiest sc^," 
 
 you must not wholly overlook the importance ol 
 Hahit^ while establishing your system of life. 
 
 Always indicative of character, habit may yet, to 
 a certain extent, do us the greatest injustice, through 
 mere inadvertency. Indeed, few young persons 
 attach much importance to such matters, until com- 
 pelled by necessity to unlearn, with a painful effort, 
 what has been insensibly acquired. 
 
 Permit me, then, a few random suggestions, intend- 
 ed rather to awaken your attention to this branch of 
 a polite education, than to furnish elaborate directions 
 in relation to it. 
 
 Judging from the prevalent tone of social inter- 
 course among our countrymen, both at home and 
 
530 
 
 abroad, one might naturally make the inference, that 
 most of them regard Rudeness and Hepuhlicanism as 
 synonymous terms. Depend upon it, that as a people, 
 we are retrograding on this point. Our upper class 
 — or what would fain be deemed such — in society, 
 may more successfully imitate the fashionable folliee 
 and conventional peculiarities of the Old World, than 
 their predecessors upon the stage of action did ; but 
 fashion is not good breeding, any more than arro- 
 gant assumption, or a defiant independence of the 
 amenities of life, is true manliness. Breaking away 
 from the ceremonious old school of habit and man- 
 ner, we are rapidly running into the opposite ex- 
 treme, and the masses who, with little time or incli- 
 nation for personal reflection, on such subjects, natur- 
 ally take their clue, to some extent, from the assumed 
 exponents of the laws of the fickle goddess, exagger- 
 ating the value of the defective models they seek to 
 imitate, into the grossest caricature of the whole, and, 
 mistaking rudeness for ease, and impudence for inde- 
 pendence, so defy all abstract propriety, as, if not to 
 "make the angels w^eep," at least to mortify and dis- 
 gust all observant, thinking men, whose love and 
 pride of country sees in trifles even, indications 
 more or less auspicious to national advancement. 
 
 All this defiance of social restraint, this professed 
 contempt for the suavities and graces that should 
 redeem existence from the complete engrossment of 
 actualities, is bad enough at home ; but its exhibition 
 abroad is doubly humiliating to our national dignity. 
 Every American who visits foreign countries, whether 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FA6HI0N. 331 
 
 as the accredited official representative of his gov- 
 ernment, or simply in the character of a private 
 citizen, owes a duty to his native land, as one of 
 those by the observance of whom strangers are form- 
 ing an estimate of the social and political advance- 
 ment of the people who are making the great experi- 
 ment of the world, and upon whom the eyes of all 
 are fixed with a peculiar and scrutinizing interest. 
 
 It has been well said of us, in this regard, that 
 " our worst slavery is the slavery to ourselves.^'* 
 Trammelled by the narrowest social prejudices at 
 home, Americans, breaking loose from these restraints 
 abroad, run riot, like ill-mannered school-boys, sud- 
 denly released from the discipline which, from its 
 very severity, prompts them to indulge in the ex- 
 treme of license. Thus, we lately had accounts of 
 the humiliating conduct of some Americans, who, 
 being guests one night at the Tuileries, actu- 
 ally so far forgot all decency as to intrude their 
 drunken impertinence upon the personal observation 
 of the Emperor! And, when informed, the next 
 morning, that, at the instance of their insulted host, 
 the police had followed them, when they left the 
 palace, to ascertain whether they were not suspicious 
 characters who had surreptitiously obtained admit- 
 tance to the imperial fete, they are reported to have 
 pronounced the intelligence "wA/" Shame on 
 such exhibitions ! — they disgrace us nationally. 
 
 If our countrymen would be content to learn from 
 older peoples on these points, it would be well, lu 
 the Elegant and Ideal Arts, in Literature, in genera) 
 
332 THE AMERICAN GENTLEMAN'S GUIDE 
 
 Science, the superiority of our predecessors in the \u&* 
 tory of Progress, is cheerfully admitted. Can we, 
 then, learn nothing from the matured civilization of 
 the Old World in regard to the A7'f of Living f Shall 
 we defy the race to which we belong, on this point 
 alone ? This secret is possessed in greatest perfection 
 by those w^ho have longest studied its details, and 
 some long existent nations who display little practi- 
 cal wisdom in matters of political science, are grey- 
 beard sages here. So then, let us learn from them 
 what they can easily save us the trouble of acquiring 
 by difficult experiments for ourselves, and, concen- 
 trating our energies upon higher objects, give them 
 back a full equivalent for their knowledge of the best 
 mode of serving the Lares^ the Muses^ and the Gra- 
 ces, by a successful illustration of the truth, that as a 
 peajpU we are cajpdble of self-government ! We shall, 
 then, no longer have the wife of an American minis- 
 ter ignorantly invading the Court Rules at Madrid, 
 by sporting the colors sacred to royal attire there, 
 and so giving occasion for national offense, as well 
 as individual conflict, nor furnish Punch with mate- 
 rial for the admonitory reflection that the bond of 
 family union between John Bull and his cousin Jon- 
 athan must be somewhat uncertain " when so small a 
 matter as the tie of a cravat can materially affect the 
 frice of stocks /" And, when vulgar bluster and 
 braggadocio are no longer mistaken for the proper 
 assertion of national and individual independence, 
 we shall not have an American gentleman who, like 
 our justly-distinguished countryman, George Pear 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 33^3 
 
 body, constantly exhibits the most urbane courtesy, 
 alike towards foreigners and towards the citizens of 
 the native country to which his life has been one 
 prolonged psean, accuse'd of toadying^ because he 
 quietly conforms to the social usages of the people 
 among whom he lives ! 
 
 But pardon me these generalities. I have been 
 unintentionally led into them, I believe, by my keen 
 sense of mortification at some of the incidents to 
 which I have alluded. 
 
 Coming then to details, let us, primarily, resolve 
 to be slaves to nothing and to no one — neither to 
 others nor to ourselves ; and to endeavor to establish 
 such habits as shall entitle each of us, in the estima- 
 tion of discriminating observers, to the distinctive 
 name of gentleman. 
 
 Constant association with well-lred and weU-edu- 
 cated society^ cannot be too highly estimated as an 
 assistant in the acquisition of the attributes of which 
 we propose to speak. A taste for such companion- 
 ship may be so strengthed by habit as to form a 
 strong barrier to the desired indulgence of grosser 
 inclinations. " Show me your friends, and I'll tell 
 you what you are," is a pithy Spanish proverb. 
 Choose yours, I earnestly entreat, in early life, with 
 a view to self-improvement and self-respect. And, 
 while on this point, permit me to warn you against 
 mistaking pretension, wealth, or position, for intrinsic 
 merit; or the advantages of equality in elevated 
 social rank, for an equivalent to mental cultivation, 
 or moral dignity. 
 
334 
 
 Ono of the collateral benefits resulting from pro* 
 per social associations, will be an escape from eccen- 
 vHcities of manner, dress, language, etc. ; erroneous 
 habits in relation to which, when once established, 
 often cling to a man through all the changes of time 
 and circumstance. 
 
 But, as observation proves that this, though a 
 safeguard, is by no means always a sufficient de- 
 fense, it is well to resort to various precautions, 
 additionally — as a prudent general not only carefully 
 inspects the ramparts that guard his fortress, but 
 stations sentinels, who shall be on the look-out for 
 approaching foes. 
 
 So then, my dear boys, do not regard me as de- 
 scending to puerilities unworthy of myself and you, 
 when I call your attention to such matters as your 
 attitude in standing and sitting, or any other little 
 individualizing peculiarities. 
 
 Some men fall into a habit of walking and stand- 
 ing with their heads run out before them, as if doubt- 
 ful of their right to keep themselves on a line with 
 their fellow-creatures. Others, again, either elevate 
 the shoulders unnaturally, or draw them forward so 
 as to impede the full, healthful play of the lungs. 
 This last is too much the peculiar habit of students^ 
 and contracted by stooping over their books, un- 
 doubtedly. Then again, you see persons swinging 
 their arms, and see-sawing their bodies from side to 
 side, so as to monopolize a good deal more than their 
 rightful share of a crowded thoroughfare, steamer- 
 cabin, or drawing-room floor. Nothing is more un 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 335 
 
 comfortable than walking arm in arm with such a 
 man. He pokes his elbows into your ribs, pushes 
 you against passers-by, shakes you like a reed in the 
 wind, and, perhaps, knocks your hat into the gutter 
 with his umbrella — and all with the most good-hu- 
 mored unconsciousness of his annoying peculiarity. 
 If you are so unfortunate as to be shut up in a car- 
 riage with him, his restless propensity relieves itself 
 to the great disturbance of the reserved rights of, 
 ladies, and the frequent impalement upon his pro- 
 truding elbows of fragments of fringe, lace, and 
 small children! At table, if it be possible, his 
 neighbors gently and gradually withdraw from hia 
 immediate vicinity, leaving a clearing to his undis- 
 puted possession. He usually may be observed to 
 stoop forward, while eating, with his plate a good 
 foot from the customary locality of that convenience, 
 pushed before him towards the middle of the table, 
 and his arms so adjusted that his elbows play out 
 and in, like the sweep of a pair of oars. 
 
 A little seasonable attention to these things will 
 efiectually prevent a man of sense from falling into 
 such peculiarities. Early acquire the habit of stand- 
 ing and walking with your chest thrown out — your 
 head erect — your abdomen receding rather than pro- 
 truding — not leaning back any more than forward — 
 with your arms scientifically adjusted — your hat on 
 the toj> (not on the back, or on one side) of your 
 head — with a self-poised and firm, but elastic tread ; 
 not a tramp, like a war-horse ; not a stride, like a 
 fugitive bandit ; not a mincing step, like a conjurer 
 
53a 
 
 tieading on eggs ; but, with a compact, manly, homo- 
 geneous sort of bearing and movement. 
 
 Where there has been any discipline at least, if 
 not always, inklings of character may be drawn 
 from these tokens in the outer man. For instance — 
 the light, quick, cat-like step of Aaron Burr, was as 
 much a part of the man as the Pandemonium gleam 
 that lurked in the depths of his dark, shadowed eyes. 
 I remember the one characteristic as distinctly as 
 the other, when I recall his small person and pecu- 
 liar face. So with the free, firm pace by which the 
 noble port of De "Witt Clinton was accompanied — 
 one recognized, at a glance, the high intellect, the 
 lofty manhood, embodied there. 
 
 Crossing the legs, elevating the feet, lounging on 
 one side, lolling back, etc., though quite excusable 
 in the abandon of bachelor seclusion, should never 
 be indulged in where ceremony is properly required. 
 In the company of ladies, particularly, too much 
 care cannot be exhibited in one's attitudes. It is then 
 suitable to sit upright, with the feet on the floor, and 
 the hands quietly adjusted before one, either holding 
 the hat and stick (as when paying a morning visit), 
 or the dress-hat carried in the evening, or, to give 
 ease, on occasion, a book, roll of paper, or the like. 
 Habits of refinement once established, a man feels at 
 ease — he can trust himself, without watching, to be 
 natural — and nothing conduces more to grace and 
 elegance than this quiet consciousness. Let me add, 
 that true comfort, real enjoyment,are no better secured 
 under any circumstances, bv indulging in anything 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 337' 
 
 that is intrinsically unrefined^ and that a certain 
 habitual self-restraint is the best guarantee of ease, 
 propriety and elegance, when a man would fain do 
 entire justice to himself. 
 
 Habits connected with matters of the table, as in- 
 deed with all sensuous enjoyments, should always be 
 such as not to suggest to others ideas of merely self- 
 ish animal gratification. Among minor character- 
 istics, few are so indicative of genuine good-breeding 
 as a man's mode of eatimg. Upon Poor Kichard's 
 principle, that " nothing is worth doing at all that is 
 not worth doing well," one may very properly attach 
 some consequence to the formation of correct habits 
 in relation to occasions of such very frequent recur- 
 rence. It is well, therefore, to learn to sit uprightly 
 at table, to keep one's individual " aids and appli- 
 ances " compactly arranged ; to avoid all noise and 
 hurry in the use of these conveniences ; neither to 
 mince, nor fuss with one's food ; nor yet to swallow 
 it as a boa-constrictor does his, — rolled over in the 
 mouth and bolted whole / or worse still, to open the 
 mouth, to such an extent as to remind observers that 
 alligators are half mouth. Eating with a knife, or 
 with the fingers ; soiling the lips ; using the fork or 
 the fingers as a tooth-pick ; making audible the 
 process of mastication, or of drinking ; taking soup 
 from the jpoint of a spoon ; lolling forward upon the 
 table, or with the elbows upon the table ; soiling the 
 cloth with what should be kept upon the plate; 
 putting one's private utensils into dishes of which 
 
 11^ 
 
others partake ; in short, everything that is odd, or 
 coarse, should nowhere be indulged in. 
 
 Cut your meat, or whatever requires the use of the 
 knife, and, leaving that dangerous instrument conve- 
 niently on one side of your plate, eat with your fork, 
 using a bit of bread to aid, when necessary, in taking 
 up your food neatly. 
 
 When partaking of anything too nearly approach- 
 ing a liquid to be eaten with a fork, as stewed toma- 
 to, or cranberry, sop it with small pieces of bread ; 
 — a spoon is not used while eating meats and their 
 accompaniments. ISf ever take up large bones in the 
 fingers, nor bite Indian corn from a mammoth ear. 
 (In the latter case, a long cob running out of a man's 
 mouth on either side, is suggestive of the mode in 
 which the snouts of dressed swine are adorned for 
 market !) If you prefer not to cut the grain from 
 the ear, break it into small pieces and cut the rows 
 lengthwise, before commencing to eat this vege- 
 table. 
 
 When you wish to send your plate for anything, 
 retain your knife and fork, and either keep them 
 together in your hand, or rest them upon your 
 bread, so as not to soil the cloth. 
 
 Should you have occasion for a tooth-pick, hold 
 your napkin, or your hand, before your mouth wliile 
 applying it, and on no account resort to the percep- 
 tible assistance of the tongue in freeing the mouth 
 or teeth from food. 
 
 Have sufficient self-control, when so unfortunatft 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 339 
 
 as to be disgusted with anything in your food, to 
 refrain from every outward manifestatijn of annoy- 
 ance, and if possible, to conceal from others all 
 participation in your discovery. 
 
 Accustom yourself to addressing servants while at 
 table, in a low, but intelligible tone, and to a good- 
 natured endurance of their blunders. 
 
 Avoid the appearance of self-engrossment, or of 
 abstraction while eating, and, for the sake of health 
 of mind and body, acquire the practice of a cheerful 
 interchange of both civilities and ideas with those 
 who may be, even temporarily, your associates. 
 
 It is now becoming usual among fashionable 
 people in this country to adopt the French mode of 
 conducting ceremonious dinners, that of placing such 
 portions of the dessert as will admit of it, upon the 
 table, together with plateaux of flowers, and other 
 ornaments, and having the previous courses served 
 and carved upon side-tables, and offered to each 
 guest by the attendants. But it will be long before 
 this custom obtains generally, as a daily usage, even 
 among the wealthier classes. It will, so far continue 
 rather an exception than a rule, that the art of 
 carving should be regarded as well worth acquiring, 
 both as a matter of personal convenience, and as 
 affording the means of obliging others. Like every 
 other habit connected with matters of the table, 
 exquisite neatness and discrimination should charac- 
 terize the display of this gentlemanly accomplish- 
 ment. Aim at dexterous and rapid manipulation, 
 and shun the semblance of hurry, labor, or fatigue 
 
340 
 
 Familiarity with the anatomy of poultry and game, 
 will greatly facilitate ease and grace in carving. 
 
 Always help ladies with a remembrance of the 
 moderation and fastidiousness of their appetites. If 
 possible, give them the choice of selection in the 
 cuts of meats, especially of birds and poultry. 
 
 !N"ever pour gravy upon a plate, without pennis- 
 eion. A little of the lilling of fowls may be put 
 with portions of them, because that is easily laid 
 aside, without spoiling the meat, as gravy does, for 
 many persons. 
 
 All meats served in mass, should be carved in 
 thin slices^ and each laid upon one side of the plate, 
 carefully avoiding soiling the edge, or offending the 
 delicacy of ladies, in particular, by too-ensanguined 
 juices. 
 
 Different kinds of food should never be mixed on 
 the plate. Keep each portion of the accompani- 
 ments of your meats neatly separated, and, where 
 you ^ay for decency and comfort^ take it as a 
 matter of course that your plate, knife, and fork are 
 to be changed as often as you partake of a different 
 dish of meat. 
 
 Fish is eaten with bread and condiments only ; 
 and the various kinds of meat with vegetables 
 appropriate to each. Game^ when properly cooked 
 and served, requires only a bit of bread with it. 
 
 By those who best understand the art of eating, 
 luUer is never taken with meats or vegetables. The 
 latter, in their simple state, as potatoes, should be 
 eaten with salt ; most of them need no condiment, id 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 341 
 
 addition to those with which they are dressed before 
 coming to table. Salads, of course, are prepared 
 according to individual taste; but the well-instructed 
 take butter at dinner only after, or as a substitute for, 
 the course of pastry, etc. with bread, if at all. The 
 English make a regular course of bread, cheese, and 
 butter, preceding the dessert proper — nuts, fruit, 
 etc. ; but they never eat both butter and cheese at 
 the same time. 
 
 Skins of baked potatoes, rinds of fruit, etc., etc., 
 should never be put upon the cloth ; but Iread^ both 
 at dinner and breakfast, is placed on the table, at the 
 left side of the plate, except it be the small bit used 
 to facilitate the use of the fork. 
 
 !N"ever drum upon the table between the courses, 
 fidget in your chair, or with your dress, or in any 
 manner indicate impatience of due order and deli- 
 beration, or indifference to the conversation of those 
 about you. A gentleman will take time to dine 
 decorously and comfortably. Those whose subser- 
 viency to anything^ or any one, prevents this, are 
 not freemen! 
 
 Holding, as I do, that 
 
 " To enjoy is to ohey^ 
 
 let me call your attention, in this connection, to the 
 truth that the pleasures of the table consist not so 
 much in the quantity eaten as in the mode of eating, 
 A moderate amount of simple food, thoroughly and 
 deliberately masticated, and partaken of with the 
 agreeable accessories of quiet, neatness and social 
 
342 
 
 communion, will not only be more beneficial to 
 the physical man, but afford more positive enjoy- 
 ment, than a larger number of dishes, when hur- 
 riedly eaten in greater quantities. 
 
 I have frequently remarked among our young 
 countrymen a peculiarity which a moment's reflec- 
 tion will convince you is exceedingly injurious to 
 health — that of swallowing an enormous amount of 
 fluid at every meal. Beflect that the human 
 stomach is scarcely so large as one of the goblets 
 which is repeatedly emptied at dinner, by most 
 men, and that all liquids taken into that much- 
 abused organ, must be absorbed before the assimi- 
 lation of solid food commences, and you will see, at 
 once, what a violation of the natural laws this 
 practice involves. Here, again, is one of the evil 
 effects of the fast-eating of fast Americans. Hurry- 
 ing almost to feverishness, at table, and only half 
 masticating their food, the assistance of ice-water is 
 invoked to facilitate the process of swallowing, and 
 to allay the more distressing symptoms produced by 
 haste and fatigue ! 
 
 Before we leave these little matters, let us return 
 for an instant, to that of the posiUon assumed while 
 ^sitting. The ^'Ycmkee^^ peculiarity, so often ridi- 
 culed by foreigners, of tipping the chair back upon 
 the two hind feet, is not yet obsolete, even in our 
 " best society." Occasionally some uninstructed 
 rustic finds his way into a fashionable drawing-room, 
 where " modern antique furniture," as the manufac- 
 turers call it in their advertisements, elicits all tho 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 343 
 
 proverbial ingenuity of his native land, to enable 
 him to indulge in his favorite attitude. " I thought 
 I saw the ghost of mj chair !" said a fair friend to 
 me, as soon as a visitor had left us together, one 
 morning, not long since. '^ I was really distressed 
 by his efforts to tilt it back — these fashionable chairs 
 are so frail, and he would have been intensely 
 mortified had he broken it ! Have you seen the 
 last ' Harper,' Colonel ?" 
 
 Do not permit yourself, through an indifference to 
 trifles, to fall into any unrefined habits in the use of 
 the handkerchief, etc., etc. Boring the ears with 
 the fingers, chafing the limbs, sneezing with unne- 
 cessary sonorousness, and even a too fond and cease- 
 less caressing of the moustache, are in bad taste. 
 Everything connected with personal discomfort,, 
 with the mere physique, should be as unobtrusively 
 attended to as possible. 
 
 Wlien associated with women of cultivation and 
 refinement — and you should addict yourself to no 
 other female society — you cannot attend too care- 
 fully to the niceties of personal habit. Sensitive, 
 fastidious, and very observant of 7ninuticB — indeed 
 often judging of character by details — you will 
 inevitably lose ground with these discriminating 
 observers, if neglectful of the trifles that go far 
 towards constituting the amenities of social life. 
 An elegant modern writer is authority for the facfc 
 that the Gauls attributed to woman, " an additional 
 sense; — the divine sense.^^ Perhaps the Creator may 
 have bestowed this gift upon the defenseless sex, as 
 
344 
 
 a counterpoise to the superior strengtli and power of 
 man, even as he has given to the more helpless of 
 the lower creatures swiftness of motion, instead of 
 capacity for resistance. But be that as it may, no 
 man should permit himself any habit that will not 
 bear the scrutiny of this divine sense — much less, 
 one that will outrage all its fine perceptions. 
 
 Apropos of details — I will take leave to warn 
 you against the swaggering manner that some young 
 men, whose bearing is otherwise unexceptionable, 
 fall into among strangers, apparently with the 
 mistaken idea that they will thus best sustain their 
 claims to an unequivocal position in society. So in 
 the sitting-rooms at hotels, in the pump-rooms at 
 watering-places, on the decks of steamei-s, etc., 
 persons whose juvenility entitles them to be classed 
 with those who have nursery authority for being 
 "seen and not heard," are frequently the most 
 conspicuous and noisy. Shallow, indeed, must be 
 the discernment of observers who conceive a favor- 
 able impression of a young man from such an 
 exhibition ! 
 
 In company, do not stand, or walk about while 
 others sit, nor sit while others stand — especially 
 ladies. Acquire a light step, particularly for in- 
 door use, and a quiet mode of conducting yourself, 
 generally. Ladies and invalids will not then dread 
 your presence as dangerous— like that of a rampant 
 war-horse, ill-taught to 
 
 " Caper nimbly in a lady's chamber I'* 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 345 
 
 If you are fond of playing at chess and other 
 games, it will be worth your while to observe your- 
 self until you have fixed habits of entire politeness, 
 under such circumstances. All unnecessary move- 
 ments, every manifestation of impatience or petu- 
 lance, and all exultation when successful, should be 
 repressed. Thus, while seeking amusement, you may 
 acquire self-control. 
 
 Begin early to remember that health and good 
 spirits are easily impaired, and that habit will mate- 
 rially assist us in the patient endurance of suffering 
 we should manifest for the sake of those about us — 
 attendants, friends, "the bosom-friend dearer than 
 all," whom no philosophy can teach insensibility to 
 the semblance of un kindness from one enthroned in 
 her affections. 
 
 Don't fall into the habit, because you are a branch 
 of the Lunettes family, of using glasses prematurely. 
 Students are much in error here. Every young 
 divinity-student, especially, seems emulous of this 
 troublesome appendage. Depend on it, this is all 
 wrong, either absurd affectation, or ignorance equal- 
 ly unfortunate. 
 
 Ladies, it is said, are the readers of America, but 
 who ever sees the dear creatures donning spectacles 
 in youth ? Enter a female college and look for the 
 glasses that, were the youthful devotees of learning 
 there assembled of the other sex, would deform half 
 the faces you observe. Much better were it to inform 
 yourselves of the laws of optics, and use the organs 
 now so generally abused by the young, judiciously, 
 
 15* 
 
346 
 
 resting them, when giving indications of being 
 overtaxed, rather than endeavoring to supply artifi- 
 cial aid to their natural strength. Students, especial- 
 ly, should always read and write with the hack to the 
 lights so seated that the light falls not upon the 
 eyes, but upon the book or paper before them. 
 That reminds me, too, how important it is that one 
 should not stocyp forward more constantly than is 
 necessary, while engaged in sedentary pursuits, but 
 lean back rather than forward, as much as possible, 
 throwing out the chest at the same time. Many 
 books admit of being raised in the hand, in aid of 
 this practice, and the habit of rising occasionally, 
 and expanding the chest, and straightening the limbs 
 will be found to relieve the weariness of the seden- 
 tary. 
 
 But nothing so effectually prevents injury to 
 health, from studious habits, as early rising. This 
 gives time for the out-door exercise that is so requi- 
 site as well as for the use of the eyes by daylight. 
 There is a great deal of nonsense mixed up with our 
 literature, which seizes the fancy of the young, 
 because embodied in poetry, or clothed with the 
 charm of fiction. Of this nature is what we read 
 about, " trimming the midnight lamp," to search for 
 the Pierean spring. Obey the 
 
 " Breezy call of incense-breathing mom," 
 
 and she will environ you with a joyous band of 
 blooming Hours, and guide you gaily and lightly 
 
TO rOLITENESS AND FASniON. 347 
 
 towards sparkling waters, whose properties are Know- 
 ledge and Health ! 
 
 But if jou would habitually rise early, you must 
 not permit every trivial temptation to prevent your 
 also retiring early. The laws of fashionable life are 
 Borely at variance with those of Health, on this 
 point, as well as upon many others ; but, happily, 
 they are not absolute^ and those who have useful pur- 
 poses to accomplish each day, must withstand the 
 tyranny of this arbitrary despot. Time for the toi- 
 let, for exercise, for intellectual culture and mental 
 relaxation, is thus best secured. By using the earlier 
 hours of each day for our most imperative occupa- 
 tions, we are far less at the mercy of contingent cir- 
 cumstances than we can become by any other system 
 of life. " Solitude," says Gibbon, "is the school of 
 Genius," and the advantages of this tuition are most 
 certainly secured before the idlers of existence are 
 abroad ! 
 
 Avoid the habit of regarding yourself as an inva- 
 lid, and of taking nostrums. A knowledge and obser- 
 vance of the rules of Dietetics are often better than 
 the concentered wisdom of a Dispensary, abstinence 
 more effective than medical applications, and the 
 recuperative power of N'ature, when left to work out 
 her own restoration, frequently superior to the most 
 skillful aid of learned research. But when compel- 
 led to avail yourself of medical assistance, seek that 
 which science and integrity render safest. "No sensible 
 man, one would think, will intrust the best boon of 
 earth to the merciless experiments of unprincipled and 
 
318 THE AMEltlCAN GENTLEMAn's GUIDE 
 
 ignorant charlatans, or credulously swallow quack 
 medicines recommended by old women: and yet, 
 while people employ the most accomplished hatter, 
 tailor, and boot-maker, whose services they can 
 secure, they will give up the inner man to the influ- 
 ence of such impositions upon the credulity of 
 humanity ! 
 
 Assuming, as an accepted truth, that it is your 
 purpose, through life, to admit the rights of our fair 
 tyrants 
 
 " In court or cottage, wheresoe'er their home," 
 
 1 will commend to you the early acquisition of habits 
 appropriate to our relations to women as their jpro- 
 tectors. In dancing, riding, driving, walking, boat- 
 ing, travelling, etc., etc., — wherever the sexes are 
 brought together in this regard (and where are they 
 not, indeed, when commingled at all ?) — observe the 
 gentle courtesies, exhibit the watchful care, that go 
 far towards constitutiug the settled charms of such 
 intercourse. It is not to be forgotten, as I think I 
 have before remarked, that women judge of charac- 
 ter, often, from trifling details ; thus, any well-bred 
 woman will be able to tell you which of her acquain- 
 tances habitually removes his hat, or throws aside his 
 cigar, when addressing her, and who, of all others, is 
 most watchfnl for her comfort, when she is abroad 
 under his escort. Be sure, too, that this same fair 
 one could confess, if she would make a revelation on 
 the subject, exactly what men she shuns because 
 they break her fans, disarrange her bouquets, tear her 
 
TO rOLITENESS AND FASHION. 34:9' 
 
 flounces, toucli her paintings and prints witli moist 
 fingers (instead of merely pointing to some part) 
 handle delicate lijouterie with dark gloves, dance 
 with uncovered hands, etc., etc. But even if jou 
 are her confidant^ she will not tell you how often her 
 quick sensibility is wounded by fancying herself the 
 subject of the smirks^ whispers^ and hnowing glances 
 in which some men indulge when grouped with their 
 kindred bipeds, in society ! 
 
 At the risk of subjecting myself to the charge of 
 repetition, I will endeavor, before concluding this 
 letter, to enumerate such Habits as, in - addition to 
 those of which I have already spoken, I deem most 
 entitled to the attention of those who are establish- 
 ing a system of life. 
 
 Habits of reading and studying once thoroughly 
 formed, are invaluable, not only as affording a ready 
 resource against ennui, or idleness, everywhere and 
 under all circumstances, but as necessarily involving 
 the acquisition of knowledge, even when of the most 
 desultory character. It is wonderful how much gene- 
 ral information may be gleaned by this practice of 
 reading something whenever one has a few spare 
 grains of the ^'gold-dust of Time^'' — minutes. I 
 once found a remarkably well-informed woman of 
 my acquaintance waiting to make breakfast for her 
 husband and me, with a little old dictionary open in 
 her hand. "For what word are you looking, so 
 early ?" I inquired, as I discovered the character of 
 the volume she held. " For no one in particular," 
 returned she, "but one can always add to one's 
 
360 
 
 stores from any book, were it only in the matter of 
 spelling^ But the true way, of course, to derive 
 most advantage from this enjoyment is to systematize 
 in relation to it, reading well-selected books with 
 care and attention suflScient to enable us permanent- 
 ly to add the information they contain to our 
 previous mental possessions. 
 
 You will only need to be reminded how much ease 
 and elegance in ^^acZm^a^M^^Z depend upon habit. 
 
 Without the Hahit of Industry^ good resolutions, 
 the most sincere desire for self-improvement, and the 
 most desirable natural gifts, will be of comparatively 
 little avail for the practical purposes of existence. 
 This unpretending attribute, together with System 
 and Regularity^ has achieved more for the good of 
 the race, than all the erratic efforts of genius combin- 
 edly. 
 
 " Don't run about," says a sensible writer, " and 
 tell your acquaintances you have been unfortunate ; 
 people do not like to have unfortunate men for 
 acquaintances. Add to a vigorous determination, a 
 cheerful spirit ; if reverses come, bear them like a 
 philosopher, and get rid of them as soon as you can." 
 Cheerfulness and Contentment^ like every other 
 mental quality, may be cultivated until they mate- 
 rially assist us in enduring 
 
 " The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune," 
 
 and early attention to the attainment of these mental 
 
 habits is a matter of both personal and relative duty. 
 
 Cherish self-resjpect as, next to a firm religious 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 351 
 
 faith, the best safeguard to respectability and peace 
 of mind. Entirely consistent with — indeed, in a 
 degree, productive of the most careful consideration 
 of the rights of others, the legitimate development of 
 this quality will tend to preserve you from unwise con- 
 fidences, from injudicious intimacies, and from gross 
 indulgences and unworthy pursuits. This will 
 sustain you in the manly acknowledgment oijpoverty^ 
 if that shall chance to be your lot, when pride and 
 principle contend for the mastery in practical 
 matters, and enable you to realize fully, that 
 
 " To bear, is to conquer our fate !" 
 
 This will strengthen you to the endurance of that 
 which nothing but absolute insignificance can escape 
 — calumny. It will preserve you alike from an 
 undue eagerness in defending yourself from unjust 
 aspersion, and frora a servile fear of " the world's 
 dread laugh," from meriting and from resenting 
 scandal, and convince you that its most effectual 
 contradiction consists in a virtuous life. By listen- 
 ing to the dictates of this powerful coadjutor of 
 conscience^ you will believe with the poet, that 
 
 "Honor and Fame from.no condition rise," 
 
 and thus, with straightforward and unvarying pur^ 
 pose, illustrate your adoption of the motto, 
 
 "-4ci well your part, there all the honor lies!" 
 
 While I would earnestly counsel you to avoid that 
 constant self consciousness which is nearly allied to 
 
352 
 
 vanity and egotism, if not identical with tliem, you 
 will find the habitual practice of self-examination 
 greatly conducive to improvement. A calm, impar- 
 tial analysis of words and actions, tracing each 
 to their several motives, must tend to assist us to 
 Icnow ourselves, w^hich an ancient philosopher, you 
 may remember, pronounced the highest human 
 attainment. Arraign yourself, without the advan- 
 tage oi special pleading, to borrow a legal phrase, at 
 the bar of conscience, regarding this arbiter as the 
 voice of Divinity enshrined within us, whenever 
 assailed by doubts respecting any course of conduct 
 you have adopted, or propose to adopt, and where 
 you are thus taught to draw the line of demarcation 
 between right and wrong, 
 
 " Let that aye be your border." 
 
 In this connection permit me to recommend the 
 regular study of the Bihle, and a systematic attend- 
 ance upon public worship on the Sabbath. Do not 
 read this most wonderful of books as a tasTc, nor yet 
 permit the trammels of early associations, hereditary 
 prejudice, or blind superstition, to interfere with 
 your search for the truths contained in its pages. 
 Try to read the Scriptures as you would any other 
 book, with the aid of such collateral information as 
 you may be able to obtain respecting the origin of 
 the several, and wholly, distinct productions of which 
 it is composed, the authors of each, the purposes for 
 which they were composed, and, in short, possess 
 yourself of every available means of giving reality, 
 
TO POLITENESS AND BASHION. S53 
 
 simplicity, and truthfulness to your investigations. 
 Study the Life of Christy as written by the personal 
 friends who were most constantly and intimately 
 associated with him. Ponder upon his familiar 
 sayings, remembered, and recorded in their simple 
 memoranda, by the unlettered men who most fre- 
 quently listened to them, compare the acts of Christ 
 with his doctrines as a teacher, and judge for your- 
 selves whether history, ancient or modern, has any 
 parallel for the Perfection of the Model thus exhibited 
 to the human race. Decide whether he was not 
 the only earthly being who " never did an injury, 
 never resented one done to him, never uttered an 
 untruth, never practised a deception, and never lost 
 an opportunity of doing good." Having determined 
 this point in your own minds, adopt this glorious 
 pattern for imitation, and adhere to it, until you find 
 a truer and better model. We have nothing to do 
 in judging of this matter with the imperfect illustra- 
 tions afforded by the lives of professed imitators of 
 Christ of the perfectibility to which his teachings tend. 
 Why look to indifferent copies, when the great origi- 
 nal is ever before us ! Why seek in the frailty and 
 fallibility of human nature a justification of personal 
 distrust and indifference ? 
 
 !N"o gentleman — to come to practicalities again — 
 will indulge in ridiculing what intelligent, enlighten- 
 ed persons receive as truth, on any point, much less 
 upon this. IS^or will a well-bred man permit himself 
 the habit of being late at church — were it only that 
 those who stand in a servile relation to others^ ai'e 
 
354 THE AMERICAN GENTLEMAn's GUIDE 
 
 often deprived of time for suitable preliminariea 
 of the toile-t, etc., lie will carefully avoid this vul- 
 garity. 
 
 The tendency to materialism^ so strongly charac* 
 terizing the age in which we live, produces, among 
 its pernicious collateral effects, a disposition to 
 reduce " Heaven's last, best gift toman" to the same 
 practical standard by which we judge of all matters 
 of the outer life, — oieach other especially. Well 
 might Burke deplore the departure of the Age of 
 Chivalry ! But not even the prophetic eye of 
 genius could discern the degeneracy that was to 
 increase so rapidly, from the day in which he wrote, 
 to this. As a mere matter of personal gratification, 
 I would cherish the inclination to idealize in regard 
 to the fairer part of creation I There is enough that is 
 stern, hard, baldly utilitarian, in life ; we have 
 no need to rob this " one fair spirit " of every poetic 
 attribute, by system ! Few habits have so much the 
 effect to elevate us above the clods we tread plod- 
 dingly over in the dreary highway of mortal exis- 
 tence, as that of investing woman with the purest, 
 highest attributes of our common nature, and bear- 
 ing ourselves towards her in accordance with these 
 elevated sentiments. And when compelled, in indi- 
 vidual instances, to set aside these cherished impres- 
 sions, let nothing induce us to forget ih.2it ^assive^ 
 silent forbearance is our only resource. True man- 
 hood can never become the active antagonist of 
 defencelessness. 
 
 I am almost ashamed to remind you of the gross 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 355 
 
 impropriety of speaking loosely and loudly of ladies 
 of your acquaintance in the hearing of strangers, of 
 desecrating their names by mouthing them in bar- 
 rooms and similar public places, scribbling them 
 upon windows, recording them, without their per- 
 mission, in the registers kept at places visited from 
 curiosity, etc., etc. You have no moral right to 
 take such liberties in this respect, as you would not 
 tolerate in the relation of brother, son, or husband, 
 
 Thinh, then, and speak, ever, with due reverence 
 of those guardian angels, 
 
 " Into whose hands from first to last, 
 This world with all its destinies, 
 Devotedly by Heaven seems cast !" 
 
 If you determine to conform yourselves, as far as 
 in you lies, to the model presented for your imita- 
 tion by Him who said — " Be ye, therefore, perfect, 
 even as I am perfect," you will not disregard the 
 cultivation of a ready sympathy with the sufferings 
 and trials of your fellow beings. In place of adopt- 
 ing a system that will not only steel your heart, but 
 infuse into your whole nature distrust and suspicion, 
 you will, like Him who went about doing good, 
 quickly discern suffering, in whatever form it pre- 
 sents itself, and minister, at least, the balm of a kind 
 word, when naught else may be offered. You will 
 thus learn not only to pity the erring, but, per- 
 chance, sometimes to ask yourselves in profound 
 humility — " wlw hath made me to differ .^" 
 
 Young men sometimes fall into the impression 
 
356 THE AMERICAN GEin-LEMAN's GUIDE 
 
 that a mocking insensibility to human woe is manly 
 — something grand and distinguished. So they turn 
 with lofty scorn from a starving child, make the 
 embarrassment and distress of a poor mother with 
 a wailing infant the subject of audible mirth in a 
 rail-car, or stage-coach, ridicule the peevishness 
 of illness, the tears of wounded sensibility, or the 
 confessions of the penitent ! Now, it seems to me, 
 that all this is super-human in its sublime elevation I 
 My small knowledge of the history of the greatly good, 
 affords no parallels for the adoption of such a creed. 
 I have read of a Howard who terminated a life 
 devoted to the benefit of his race, in a noisome dun- 
 geon, where he sought to minister to human suffer- 
 ing ; of a Fenelon, and a Cheverus whose Gatholio 
 spirit broke the thralling restrains of sectarianism, 
 m favor of general humanity; of the graceful 
 chivalry and large benevolence of Sir Walter Ka- 
 leigh and Sir Philip Sidney; of triumphant soldiers 
 who bound up the wounds and preserved the lives 
 of a fallen foe ; of a Wilberforce, a Pease, and a 
 Father Mathew; of Leigh Kichmond, Keginald 
 Heber, and Robert Hall ; of the parable of the good 
 Samaritan, and of its Divine Author — and I believe 
 the mass of mankind agree with me in, at least, an 
 abstract admiration for the characters of each ! And 
 though no great achievements in the cause of Philan- 
 thropy may be in our power, though no mighty 
 deeds may embalm our memories amid the imperish- 
 able records of Time, let us not overlook those small 
 acts of kindness, those trifling proofs of sympathy. 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 367 
 
 which all have at command. A look, a word, a 
 smile — what talismanic power do even these some- 
 times possess I Eemember, then, that, 
 
 Heaven decrees 
 
 To all the gift of ministering to ease /" 
 
 In close association with the wish to minister to 
 the happiness of others, as far as in us lies, is that of 
 avoiding every self-indulgence that may interfere 
 with the comfort or the rights of others. Hence the 
 cultivation of good-humor, and of habits of neatness, 
 order, and Tegula/rity, Prompted by this rule, we 
 will not smoke in the streets, in rail-cars, on the 
 iecks of steamers, at the entrance of concert and 
 lecture rooms, or in parlors frequented by ladies. 
 "We will not even forget that neglect of matters of 
 the toilet, in the nicest details, may render us unplea- 
 sant companions for those accustomed to fastidious- 
 ness upon these points. 
 
 To the importance of well-regulated habits of 
 Exercise, Temperance, and Relaxation, I have 
 already called your attention in a previous Letter. 
 
 Nothing tends more effectually to the production 
 of genuine independence, than personal Economy. 
 ITo habit will more fully enable you to be generous 
 as well as just, and to gratify your better impulses 
 and more refined tastes, than the exercise of this un- 
 ostentatious art. 
 
 Kemember that meanness is not economy, any 
 more than it is integrity. 
 
358 
 
 To be wisely economical requires tlie exercise of 
 the reflective faculties united with practical expe- 
 rience, self-denial, send moral dignity. Kightly 
 viewed, there is nothing in it degrading to the 
 noblest nature. 
 
 Punctuality both in pleasure and in business 
 engagements, is alike due to others, and essential to 
 personal convenience. You will, perhaps, have 
 observed that this was one of the distinguishing traits 
 of Washington. 
 
 Somebody says — " Ceremony is the Paradise of 
 Eools." The same may be said with equal truth, of 
 system. To be truly free, one should not be the 
 slave of any one rule, nor of many combined. 
 System, like other agencies, if judiciously regulated, 
 materially aids the establishment of good habits 
 generally, and thus places us beyond the dominion 
 of 
 
 " Circumstance^ that tmspiritttal god.''^ 
 
 Sir Joshua Reynolds used to remark that " Nothing 
 is denied to well-directed effort." Let Perseverance 
 then, be united with Excelsior in your practical 
 creed. 
 
 I think I' have made some allusion to the Art of 
 Cowversation. Let me " make assurance doubly 
 sure," by the emphatic recommendation of ^r<2<?^^ce 
 in this elegant accomplishment. All mental acquisi- 
 tions are the better secured by the habit of putting 
 ideas into words. By this process,thought becomes 
 clearer, more tangible, so to speak, and new ideas 
 
TO rO-LITENESS AND FASHION. 359 
 
 are actually engendered, while we are giving expres- 
 sion to those previously in our possession. 
 
 In addition to the individual advantage accruing 
 from this excellent mode of training yourselves for 
 easy and effective extemporaneous public speaking^ 
 it should not be overlooked, as affording the means 
 of conferring both pleasure and benefit upon others. 
 Taciturnity and self-engrossment, you may remark, 
 are not the prominent characteristics of the favorites 
 of society. 
 
 Nor does the practice of ready speaking necessa- 
 rily interfere with habits of Reflection and Ohservor 
 tion. On the contrary, the mental activity thus 
 promoted, naturally leads to the accumulation of 
 intellectual material by every available means. 
 Discrimination in judging of character, and true 
 Jcnowledge of the world^ without which all abstract 
 knowledge is comparatively of little avail, can never 
 be attained except through the persevering exercise 
 of these powers. 
 
 Shall I venture to remind you, my dear young 
 friends, that the manifestation of respect for misfor- 
 tune^ suffering^ and age^ may become one of your 
 attributes by the force of habit strengthening good 
 impulses. 
 
 Will you think me deficient in utilitarianism if I 
 recommend to you a cultivation of the power to 
 discern the Beautiful^ as a perpetual source of pure 
 and exalted enjoyment? Hard, grinding, soul-tram- 
 melling, is the dominion of real life ; will we be less 
 worthy of our immortal destinies, that we cherish an 
 
360 
 
 mner sense, by whicli we readily perceive moral 
 beauty, shining as a ray from the very altar of Divi- 
 nity, or the tokens of the presence of that Divinity 
 afforded by the wonders of the natural world ? Let 
 us not be mere beasts of burden, so laden with the 
 cares, the anxieties, or even the duties of life, as to 
 have no eye for the unobtrusive, but often fragrant 
 and lovely flowers, that bloom along the most 
 neglected of our daily paths. 
 
 Speaking of the Beautiful, reminds me that ours 
 jjs the only civilized land where the sesthetical percep- 
 tions of the people are not a sufficient safeguard to 
 the preservation of Works of Art, in their humblest 
 as well as most magnificent exhibitions. Nothing 
 short of the brutalizing influence of a Reign of 
 Terror will tempt a Parisian populace to the desecra 
 tion of these expressions of refinement, taste, and 
 beauty ; while among us, not even an ornamental 
 paling, inclosing a private residence, or the colon- 
 nade of a public edifice, escapes staring tokens of 
 the presence of this gothic barbarism in our midst. 
 
 You will scarcely need to be cautioned against 
 confounding mere curiosity with a liberal and en- 
 lightened observation of life and manners. All those 
 indications of undue curiosity respecting the private 
 affairs of others, expressed by listening to conversa- 
 tion not intended for the general ear, watching the 
 asides of society, glancing at letters addressed to 
 another, or asking direct questions of a personal 
 nature, are unmistakable proofs of ignorance of the 
 rules of polished life, though they arc not as repro- 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 361 
 
 heusible as evil-sjpeaking^ a love of scandal^ or the 
 practice of violating either the confidence of friends 
 or the saxirednfiess of private conversation. 
 
 Though a vast dijfference is created in this respect 
 by difference of temperament, yet no man can hope 
 to acquire the degree of self-possession that shall fit 
 him for a successful encounter with the ever-varying 
 emergencies demanding its illustration, without re- 
 peated and re-repeated struggles and discomfitures. 
 But so invaluable is the treasure, so essential to the 
 legitimate exercise of every faculty of our being, 
 that defeat should only render more indomitable the 
 " will to do, the soul to dare," in persevering endeav- 
 ors to secure its permanent acquisition. 
 
 Let me impress upon you the truth that self-pos- 
 session is the legitimate result of a well-discvplined 
 mind^ and-that it is properly expressed by a quiet 
 and modest hearing. 
 
 In conclusion, let me earnestly and affectionately 
 assure you that the formation of right habits, though 
 necessarily attended, for a time, by failures, difficul 
 ties, or discouragements, will eventually prove its 
 own all-sufficient reward. Habitude of thought, lan- 
 guage, appointment, and manner that shall entitle 
 you to claim 
 
 " The good old name of Gentleman^ 
 
 once yours, and you will be armed, point of proof, 
 against the exacting capriciousness of fashion, and 
 forever exempted from the tortures often inflicted 
 
 16 
 
upon the sensitive, by the insidious invasions ol self- 
 distrust ! 
 
 Strolling through the Crystal Palace at London, 
 soon after it was opened, with a young fellow-coun- 
 tryman, he suddenly broke out with — "Will you just 
 look at that fellow, colonel ?" Turning and follow- 
 ing the direction indicated by his eye (not his finger 
 or walking-stick, he was too well-bred to jpoint /) I 
 discerned, in a different part of the building. Queen 
 Victoria, accompanied by Prince Albert and two of 
 the royal children, examining some articles in the 
 American Department. Yery near the stopping- 
 place of this distinguished party, a representative of 
 the " universal Yankee nation," had stationed him- 
 self — perhaps in a semi-official capacity — upon the 
 apex of some elevation, with his hat on, and his long 
 legs dangling down in front, nearly on a level with 
 the heads of passers-by. 
 
 We could not hear the words of her Majesty, but 
 it was apparent that she addressed some inquiry to 
 him of the legs. First ejecting a torrent of tobao- 
 co-juice from his mouth, and rolling away the huge 
 quid that obstructed his utterance, he deliberately 
 proceeded to give the explanation desired, retaining 
 not only his position, but his hat, the while ! 
 
 Meantime, as soon as the Queen commenced 
 addressing this person, her Koyal Consort removed 
 his hat, and remained uncovered until she again 
 moved on. I shall not soon forget the face of my 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 363 
 
 companion. Shame and indignation contended for 
 the mastery on his burning clieek ! 
 
 "Good G , Colonel!" he exclaimed, "to think 
 
 of such a mere brute as that being regarded as a fair 
 specimen of the advance of civilization among us I 
 'Tis enough to make a decent man disclaim his birth- 
 right here ! And yet, I have little enough to boast of 
 myself! Only think of my taking some English 
 gentlemen who were in Kew-York a month or two 
 ago, to see our paries (heaven save the mark !) among 
 other objects of interest in the city ! Yesterday, Sir 
 
 John , who was one of the party, drove about 
 
 London with me, and took me also to Kensington 
 Garden, St. James' and Eegent's Parks ! I don't 
 know what would tempt me again to undergo the 
 thing ! I rather think I am effectually cured, hence- 
 forth and for ever, of any inclination to hoast of any- 
 thing whatever^ jpersonal or national /" 
 
 " As you are the only * gentleman of elegant 
 leisure' in the family, at present, Harry, suppose 
 you take these girls to New York for a week or 
 two. For my part, it's as much as 1 can do to 
 provide money for the expedition," said your uncle 
 William to me, one evening. 
 
 " Oh, do, dear uncle Hal !" exclaimed Ida, with 
 great vivacity, sitting down on a low stool at my 
 feet, and clasping her hands upon my knee, " we 
 always love dearly to go with you anywhere, you 
 are so good to us." 
 
S64 
 
 " Yes !" broke in William junior, " uncle Harry 
 spoils you so completely by indulgence that I can do 
 nothing with you. You're a most unruly set, at 
 home and abroad." 
 
 A sudden twitch at the end of his cravat effec- 
 tually demolished the elegant tie upon which the 
 young gentleman prides himself, as little Jul^, who 
 was close beside him, pretending to get her French 
 lesson, and had perpetrated the mischief, cried out — 
 "What's the reason, then, that you always take us 
 all along, when you go out in the woods, and off to 
 the shore — hey, Mr. Willie ?" 
 
 " Do be quiet, children," interrupted Ida, reprov- 
 ingly; "now, uncle dear, won't you take us? I 
 want some new traps badly." 
 
 " What kind of traps? — mouse traps?" 
 
 " Mem trajps^ to be sure !" 
 
 " Well, that's honest, at least. Puss." 
 
 "My purposes are more murderous than Ida's,'' 
 said Cornelia, laughing ; "I wan't to buy a new 
 mcmkilleTy as Willie calls them." 
 
 "It's too late in the season for mantillas," re- 
 marked Ida, profoundly. 
 
 "A fashionable cloak will serve Cornelia's pur- 
 pose equally well," returned her father, quietly. 
 
 " And, like the mantle of charity, it will hide a 
 multitude of sins," chimed in her brother. 
 
 " Your running commentaries are highly edifying, 
 my dear nephew," said I, and at the same moment a 
 large red rose hit him full on the nose. 
 
 It was soon arranged that your fair cousins should 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 365 
 
 accompany me to the Empire City in a few days, 
 and I, accordingly, sat down at once, and wrote to 
 the " Metropolitan " for rooms. 
 
 " What glorious times mother and I will have," 
 I overheard William exclaim. "I shall take Jul^ 
 nnder my especial protection, and hear her French 
 lessons regularly." 
 
 "1^0 you won't, either," returned that young lady, 
 with great spirit ; " and I wish you'd stop tying my 
 curls together, and mind your own affairs. 'No doubt 
 you'll make noise enough to kill ma and me, while 
 Corne and Dade are gone, drumming on the piano, 
 and spouting your Latin speech before the drawing- 
 room glass. All I wish is, that uncle Hal wasn't 
 going away — he never lets you torment me." 
 
 As we were entering the dining-room of our hotel, 
 
 on the day of our arrival, our friend Governor S • 
 
 joined us, and, after shaking hands, in his usual cor- 
 dial way, with us all, said, as he courteously took 
 Cornelia's hand and folded it within his arm, " Will 
 you allow me to attend you. Miss Lunettes ? Colonel, 
 by your leave. Miss Ida, will you let a lonely 
 old fellow join your party? Where do you sit, 
 Colonel?" 
 
 " We have but just arrived," I replied, " but our 
 seats are, of course, reserved ; let me secure a seat 
 for you with us, if possible. Ida, remain here a 
 
 moment with Cornelia and Governor S- ;" and 
 
 presently, finding the proper person, the steward, or 
 whatever the man of dining-room affairs is called. 
 
see 
 
 1 arranged with him to seat us together, without 
 interfering with other parties. 
 
 While I was taking mj soup, I became suddenly 
 conscious that something was annoying your cousin 
 Cornelia, who sat between me and S . Glanc- 
 ing at her face, I saw there, in addition to a height- 
 ened color, an expression of mingled constraint and 
 hauteur, quite inconsistent with her usual graceful 
 sielf-possession and animation. 
 
 Making some general remark to her, and showing 
 no signs of curiosity, I began quietly to cast about 
 me for the cause of this unwonted disturbance. 
 Turning my head towards Ida, I overheard her 
 saying, playfully, though in an undertone, to the 
 senator, with whom she was already embarked upon 
 the tide of talk : " He reminds me of an exquisite 
 couplet in an old valentine of mine : 
 
 * Are not my ears as long as other asses\ pray ? 
 Don't I surpass all other asses at a bray V " 
 
 I was not long in detecting the secret cause of 
 Cornelia's averted face and Ida's sportive quota* 
 tion. 
 
 "See here, John, get me some col' slaw and 
 unions, will you — right off," shouted a young man 
 seated a little below us, on the opposite side of the 
 table. 
 
 I wish you could have seen the half-repressed 
 wonder depicted in the countenance of the servant 
 thus addressed, as he glanced at the piece of 
 
TO POLITENESB AND FASHION. 367 
 
 " Mackerel a la maitre d^E.otel^'^ as the bill of fare 
 called the fish on his plate. 
 
 "Oh, for a Hogarth to do justice to the figure 
 that had arrested my attention ! The face was not 
 bad, perhaps. A merry, dark eye, lit up with the 
 very spirit of mischief and impudence ; a tolerably 
 high, but narrow forehead ; thick, wild-looking 
 black hair, parted on the top of the head, and 
 bushy whiskers — add large, handsome teeth, dis- 
 played by full, red, ever-laughing lips, and you have 
 the physiognomy. But the dress ! 
 
 " Ye powers of every name and grace," 
 
 aid my poor endeavors to describe his toilette ! A 
 high shirt-collar, flaring wide from the throat, by 
 the pugnacious manifestations of the sturdy whiskers 
 aforesaid ; a flashy neckcloth, tied in very broad 
 bows, and with the long ends laid off pretty well 
 towards the tips of the shoulders ; a velvet waist- 
 coat, of large pattern and staring colors, crossed by 
 a heavy gold chain, from which dangled a gold- 
 mounted eye-glass, broad rufiies to his shirt, fastened 
 with huge studs of three opposing, but equally 
 brilliant colors ! A shining Holland-linen dust-coat 
 completed this unique costume. 
 
 Presently, some one at a distance suddenly attract- 
 ed the roving eyes of our hero, and he began the 
 most significant telegraphing with hands and head, 
 designed, apparently, to persuade the other to come 
 and sit by him. Turning, as if by accident, I saw a 
 young man, near the entrance of the room, shaking 
 
368 THE AMERICAN GENTLEMAn's GUIDE 
 
 liis head very positively in the negative. But this 
 was no quietus to our neighbor, who half rose from 
 his seat. 
 
 " Not room for the gentleman here, sir," said a 
 major domo, coming up. 
 
 " Yes there is, too, plenty of room ! If you would 
 just move a leetle^ ma'am — so," pushing at the chair 
 of an elderly woman, who seemed suddenly to 
 grow more slender than ever, and at the same time 
 hitching his own nearer to that of the person next 
 him on the other side, "that will do, famously! 
 ITow, waiter, a plate ! I hope I don't crowd you, 
 sir [to the gentleman next him], we don't wear 
 hoops you know ! can keep tight without them !' 
 The last, in a whisper, like a boatswain's whistlo; 
 upon which the respectable female, who illustrated 
 the mathematical definition of a pointy bridled and 
 reddened with virtuous indignation. 
 
 Luckily the table was not as closely filled as it 
 often is, and in much less time than it takes me to 
 describe the scene, the triumph of the youth was 
 complete, and a well-dressed, gentlemanly-looking 
 man came forward, seemingly with considerable 
 reluctance. 
 
 " How are you, Fred, how are you ? Right glad 
 to see you, 'pon my soul — sit down I When'd you 
 get in % Left all the folks well ?" 
 
 There was no avoiding hearing this tide of ques- 
 tions, poured out in a loud, hilarious tone, that rose 
 over the subdued murmur of ordinary conversation, 
 like the notes of a bugle, sounding amid the twitter 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 369. 
 
 ing of the feathered tenants of a grove. Apparently 
 quite unconscious that any one else in his vicinity 
 possessed powers of hearing and seeing, and wholly 
 unobservant of the elevated eye-brows of some of 
 his neighbors, and the significant looks and ill-sup- 
 pressed smiles of the servants, the young man ran 
 on with details of his own private affairs, interroga- 
 tions respecting those of his companion, interspersed 
 with loud and multiplied directions to the attendants. 
 From my soul I pitied his victim ! Deeper and deeper 
 grew the flush of shame and embarrassment in his 
 handsome face, more and more laconic and low- 
 voiced his replies, and more uneasy his restless 
 movements and glances. 
 
 By and by two huge glasses of foaming strong- 
 beer made their appearance. Beau Brummel's cele- 
 brated saying — " A gentleman may jpoH / but he 
 never maUs^'' crossed my mind. With due deference 
 to this high authority, for my part, I think a glass of 
 London brown-stout, or Scotch ale, a pleasant accom- 
 paniment to a bit of cold meat and bread, when one 
 is inclined to sup ; but taking beer at dinner is quite 
 another affair. 
 
 Well ! there was a little lull for a time, only to 
 be followed by a new sensation. One of the quick, 
 galvanic movements of the nondescript overset a full 
 bottle of wine, just as it was placed between himself 
 and his friend, and he was in the act of saying, " If 
 you don't drink beer, Fred, take some — by thunder 
 that's too bad !" 
 
 The dark- colored liquor poured over the table* 
 10* 
 
370 THE AMERICAN GENTLEMAn's GriDE 
 
 cloth, and, dividing into numerous little streamlets, 
 diverged in every direction from the parent source. 
 Servants hurried forward with napkins to stay the 
 progress of the flood, the gentleman next our hero 
 coolly dammed up the stream that most alarmingly 
 threatened his safety, with a piece of bread, and the 
 slender female, whose slight pretentions to breadth 
 had been so unceremoniously ignored, fidgeted 
 uneasily under the table, as though apprehensive 
 that the penetrating powers of the invading foe 
 might be working in ambush, to the detriment of 
 her light-hued drapery. But the face of the young 
 stranger ! It was positively mottled ! His very 
 forehead, before smooth and fair, suddenly suggested 
 the idea that he was just recovering from the small- 
 pox! 
 
 Meantime, our little party were quietly pursuing 
 the even tenor of their respective dinners. Suddenly 
 I missed S . 
 
 " What has become of the Governor ?" said I to 
 Cornelia, in an under-tone. 
 
 "A servant called him away," returned she, in the 
 same unnoticeable manner. The next moment I 
 again remarked the same peculiar movement to- 
 wards me and the same expression of countenance, 
 that had arrested my attention when we first sat 
 down. A woman's quick instinct never deceives 
 her ! Apparently unheeding, I listened. 
 
 " Dev'lish handsome ! like her air ! — wouldn't ob- 
 ject to taking the seat myself, by George !" caught 
 ray ear. 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 371 
 
 I think that joting man understood the fixed look 
 with which I regarded him for the space of about 
 half a minute ! I was quite sure his companion did. 
 
 By this time, the dessert was on the table. 
 
 " Where're you going, Fred ? you ain't done ?" 
 shouted the Hoosier, or whatever he was. 
 
 "I have an engagement — I'll see you again," 
 replied the gentleman thus addressed, springing up, 
 and eluding the detaining grasp of his persecutor, 
 quickly made good his escape. 
 
 No sooner were we seated in one of the parlors, 
 than Ida's pent-up merriment burst forth. 
 
 " Did you hear what that poor young man said, 
 when the other commenced reading the bill of fare, 
 uncle," said she, "just before he darted out of the 
 room ?" 
 
 " What, in particular, do you refer to, my dear ? 
 I heard a great deal more than I wished." 
 
 " O, I mean when the speaking-trumpet^ as Go- 
 vernor S called him, shouted out — ^fricandeau 
 
 de veau! — What's he, Fred? Do tell a fellow.' 
 He was picking his teeth at the time, with a large 
 goose-quill, with all the feathers on !" 
 
 "Well, what was the answer ?" 
 
 " The poor martyr was, by that time, reduced to 
 the calmness of despair ^^"^ replied your cousin, laugh- 
 ing ; " he answered, with a meaning air, I thought, 
 ' A calfs head ! — one of the entrees P Corne, I hope 
 you did not lose the full effect of the great green 
 and orange-colored peaches sprinkled over the vest 
 of your admirer. Love at first sight, my dear ! 
 
3T2 TIIE AMEKICAlf GENTLEMAn's GUIDE 
 
 Kever saw a more unmistakable smitation ! Wliat a 
 triumph ! Your first conquest since your arrival in 
 New York, I believe, Miss Lunettes !" lisping affect- 
 edly, and bowing with mock deference. 
 
 " Ida, you'll be overheard ! I'm ashamed of you," 
 returned the stately Cornelia, with an air of offended 
 propriety. 
 
 " It will never do, Puss," said I ; " Come is right. 
 But, Corne, what happened the senator ?" 
 
 " How courteous he is !" exclaimed the young 
 lady, with sudden enthusiasm. "A servant came 
 and whispered to him — 'Miss Lunettes,' said he, 
 turning to me, ' the only man in the world who could 
 tempt me from your side — ^my best friend — asks for 
 me on important business. Will you permit me to 
 leave you, after requesting the honor of attending 
 you V Of course, I assented. * Make my apologies 
 to Miss Ida and Colonel Lunettes,' said he, as we 
 shook hands, ' 1 am very unfortunate.' " 
 
 " How quietly he slipped away," said Ida ; " I 
 knew nothing of it, until he was gone." 
 
 " Well-bred people are always quiet," remarked 
 the elder sister, significantly. 
 
 " Oh, dear me !" retorted Ida, coloring. " Well, 
 it's too much to expect of any one, not to laugh at 
 such a nondescript specimen of humanity as that 
 young man." 
 
 The next morning, before I left my room, a card 
 was brought to me, inscribed with the name of 
 " Frederick H. AUoway," and inclosed witli the fol- 
 lowing note : 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 373 
 
 "The son of one of Colonel Lunettes' old friends 
 begs leave to claim the honor of his acquaintance, 
 and will do himself the pleasure to pay his respects, 
 at any hour, this morning, that will be most agreea- 
 ble to Colonel Lunettes. 
 
 ' *' Metropolitan Hotels 
 
 " Wednesday Morn.^"* 
 
 A half-revived remembrance of a face once fami- 
 liar, had haunted me at the dinner table the day 
 before, whenever' I chanced to catch the eye of the 
 victimized youtli I have alluded to. I was, there- 
 fore, not unprepared to find him identical with the 
 author of this note. 
 
 A certain constraint was evinced by his manner, 
 when the first complimentary phrases were over. 
 At length his embarrassment found expression. 
 
 " I am not sure. Colonel Lunettes," said he, " that 
 I should have ventured to intrude upon you this 
 morning — much as I desired to make the acquaint- 
 ance of a gentlemen of whom I have so frequently 
 heard my father speak — had I not wished to make 
 an apology, or at least an explanation " 
 
 He hesitated, and the mottled color of the day be- 
 fore mantled over his ingenuous face. I hastened to 
 say something polite. 
 
 " You are very good, sir — ^really — scandalously as 
 that young fellow behaved — he is not without 
 redeeming qualities. My acquaintance with him ia 
 slight, and entirely accidental. One of our success* 
 
374 THE AMERICAN GENTLEMAn's GUIDE 
 
 ful "Western speculators, and a very good-hearted fel 
 low — ^but sadly in need of polisli." 
 
 " So I perceived," returned I, gravely, " nor is 
 that all. One can pardon igno7'ance mucli more 
 readily than invpudence.'^^ 
 
 " Yery true, sir. I only hope that I was not so un- 
 fortunate as to incur your displeasure. I — permit me 
 to express the hope that the ladies of your party did 
 not regard me as in the most remote way implica- 
 ted in an intention to annoy them," and his voice 
 actually trembled with manly earnestness. 
 
 " By no means, my dear young friend ; by no 
 means. I assure you, on the contrary, that you 
 had our sympathy in your distress — comic as it 
 was." 
 
 The intense ludicrousness of the affair now seemed, 
 for the first time, to take full possession of the per- 
 ceptive faculties of my new acquaintance. 
 
 When our mutual merriment had in some degree 
 subsided, I invited him to dine with us, unless he 
 preferred to resume his seat of the day before. 
 
 " Heaven forbid !" exclaimed he, with great 
 vivacity ; " I should have left this house to-day, 
 if that fellow had not — he is gone, I am rejoiced to 
 say." 
 
 It was arranged that the " son of my old friend," as 
 he indeed was, should meet me in the drawing-room 
 a few moments before dinner, and be presented to 
 your cousins. So we parted. 
 
 Almost the first person I saw as I was entering the 
 public drawing-room, to join my nieces, before din- 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 376 
 
 ner, on that day, was young Alio way. He was evi- 
 dently awaiting me, and, upon my recognizing him 
 by a bow, at once advanced. 
 
 "You are punctual, I see, Mr. AUoway," said I, 
 as we seated ourselves ; "a very good trait, in a 
 young man !" 
 
 " I fear, sir, there is little merit in being punctual 
 with such a reward in anticipation," replied he, 
 laughing pleasantly, and bowing to the ladies, as he 
 spoke. 
 
 Our new acquaintance, very properly, offered his 
 arm to the younger sister, and I, of course, preceded 
 them with the elder, and though, when we were seated 
 together, he was quite too well-bred to confine either 
 his attentions or his conversation to Ida, I must say 
 that I have not often seen two young people become 
 more readily at ease in each other's society than my 
 lively favorite, and the "son of my old friend." 
 They seemed to find each other out by intuition, 
 and talked together in the most animated manner 
 permitted by their unvarying regard for decorum. 
 Their nearest neighbors were not disturbed by their 
 mirthfulness, nor could persons seated opposite them 
 hear their conversation, and yet AUoway was evi- 
 dently fast being remunerated for the chagrin and 
 embarrassment of his previous dinner. 
 
 *' Uncle Hal," said Cornelia, leaning towards me, 
 as we sat together on a sofa, after leaving the table, 
 glancing round to be sure that Ida heard her, 
 " don't you think Minnesota gentlemen, generally ^ 
 must be rather susceptible ?" 
 
876 
 
 Her sister, turning 
 
 " The trembling lustre of her dewy eyes " 
 
 upon the quizzical speaker, was interrupted in the 
 spirited rejoinder she evidently meditated, by the 
 return of Alloway, who had been up to his room for 
 a pencil-sketch of the Falls of Minnehaha (between 
 St. Paul's and the Falls of St. Anthony, you know) 
 which he told us he had made on the spot, a few 
 days before leaving his "Western home. 
 
 "How beautiful it must be there 1" exclaimed Ida, 
 delightedly. " And you are taking this to your moth- 
 er ! It reminds me of a ' Panorama of the "Western 
 "Wilds,' I think it was called, to which papa took us 
 in New York, last spring. I don't know when I saw 
 anythmg so lovely ! I had no just conception before 
 of the magnificence and variety of the scenery of tho 
 far-West." 
 
 " "Why, my dear," said I quietly, just for my own 
 amusement, and to watch the effect upon all parties, 
 "you seem so charmed with these sketches of the 
 "West, that I think I must try and show you the origi- 
 nals by-and-by. How would you like to go with me 
 to look after my "Western investments next month ?" 
 
 " Just like uncle Hal !" I hear more than one of 
 you crying. " He always plays the mischief among 
 the young folks !" So, to punish your impertinence, 
 I shall say nothing in particular, of the sudden light 
 that shone in the fine eyes of our new friend, nor of 
 the enthusiasm with which Ida clapped her hands 
 and bravoed my proposition. Still more, I am by 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 377 
 
 no means sure that I shall feel justified in telling you 
 what came of all this in the future. 
 
 After a while, some other young men came to 
 speak to the girls, and AUoway, modestly withdraw- 
 ing, lingered near me, as if wishing to address me. 
 A lady was saying something to me at the moment. 
 When she had finished speaking, I turned to my 
 young friend. 
 
 " Colonel Lnnettes," said he, in the most polite and 
 respectful manner, " the ladies inform me that they 
 are to go with you to see some pictures, in the morn- 
 ing. Will you permit me to attend them ?" 
 
 Receiving my assent, he added, " My present 
 mode of life affords few facilities for the inspection 
 of works of Art ; and I am so mere a tyro, too, that 
 I shall be happy to have the benefit of your cultiva- 
 ted taste." 
 
 "I dare say Mr. AUoway could instruct us all," 
 interposed Ida, "that is, sister and me. Uncle 
 Lunettes has spent so many years abroad, that he is, 
 of course, quite aufait in all such things." 
 
 " At what hour do you propose going, ladies ?" 
 inquired AUoway. 
 
 Twelve o'clock was fixed upon. 
 
 "I shall have great pleasure in again meeting 
 you all at that time," said AUoway, and, as he 
 shook hands with me, he added, with a significant 
 smile, " I will endeavor to be quite jpunctual^ 
 Colonel!" 
 
 "Who is that fiue-looking young man, Colonel 
 
378 THE AMERICAN GENTLEMAn'q GIJIDE 
 
 Lunettes ?" asked the lady with whom I had been 
 conversing, as I reseated myself at her side. " His 
 manners are remarkably easy and graceful for so 
 young a person. What a contrast he is to young J — •, 
 there, who, with all the advantages of education, 
 foreign travel, and good society, is, and always will 
 be, a clown ! Just look at him, now, talking to those 
 girls ! Sitting, of course^ upon two legs of his chair, 
 and picking his teeth with a pen-knife !" 
 
 "What would be the consequence," said I, "if 
 he should lose his balance and fall backward, 
 with his mouth open in that way, and his knife held 
 by the tip end of the handle, poised upon hia 
 teeth?" 
 
 " It looks really dangerous, don't it," commented 
 the same slender female, whose slight manifestations 
 had interested me, at dinner, the day before — " but I 
 suppose he is so used to it that " 
 
 A sudden movement arrested further philosophical 
 speculation, on the part of this profound observer of 
 life and manners, and a young lady whose flounces 
 had been sadly torn by the very chair upon the 
 occupant of which she was commenting, passed hur- 
 riedly out of the room, with her disordered dress 
 gathered up in both hands. 
 
 The next morning, some time before the hour 
 appointed for our visit to the Dusseldoif Gallery, a 
 servant brought me the following note : 
 
 "Mr. Alio way regrets extremely that an unex- 
 pected, but imperative, engagement, deprives him 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 379 
 
 of the anticipated pleasure of accompanying the 
 Misses and Colonel Lunettes this morning. 
 
 "Will Colonel Lunettes oblige Mr. Alloway by 
 making his compliments acceptable to the Misses 
 Lunettes, together with the most sincere expressions 
 of his disappointment ? 
 
 "Metropolitan Hotel, 
 
 " Thursday Morning?^ 
 
 "I am SO sorry!" exclaimed Ida, when informed 
 of this. " Uncle Hal is always beau enough, but the 
 more the merrier, you know, dear uncle," added she, 
 linking her arm in mine, and looking artlessly up 
 into my face. 
 
 " You are quite right, my dear," said I. " I like 
 your frankness, and I am sorry to lose Alloway my- 
 self" 
 
 As I was going out of the " Ladies' Entrance" with 
 your cousins, I perceived my young friend support- 
 ing the steps of a pale, emaciated gentleman, who 
 coughed violently, and walked with difficulty, even 
 from the carriage to the door, though sustained on 
 the other side also by an elderly lady. I drew 
 the girls aside, that they might pass uninterrupt- 
 edly. 
 
 " I hope you are well this morning, ladies," said 
 Alloway, raising his hat, as he caught sight of us, 
 " Good morning. Colonel Lunettes." 
 
 "Good morning, again, ladies!" said a cheerful, 
 but subdued voice behind us, as the girls and I were 
 
880 
 
 seated together, examining tlie merry " Wine-tasters ^ 
 of the Gallery, after having devoted some time to 
 subjects of a more elevated moral tone. 
 
 We turned our heads simultaneously. " Good 
 morning, sir," said Alloway, for it was he ; " with 
 your leave, I will join you now." 
 
 Your cousins made room for him between them. 
 " I am so happy not wholly to lose this," said he, 
 bowing to each of the ladies. " I feared I could not 
 meet you here even as early as this." 
 
 " We would have waited for you," interposed Ida ; 
 "why didn't you tell us?" 
 
 " I did not think for a moment of taking such a 
 liberty," returned the young man. " It would, per- 
 haps, have interfered with your other engagements. 
 Indeed, I scarcely hoped to find you here, but could 
 not deny myself the pleasure of coming in search of 
 you." 
 
 "Which is your favorite picture here, Miss Lu- 
 nettes ?" I heard Alloway ask presently. 
 
 "Come and see," returned she, and, rising, she 
 added, " come, sister — uncle, we will return, do not 
 disturb yourself." 
 
 Loitering along toward them, a while after, 1 re- 
 marked, as I approached, the expressive faces of the 
 group, and their graceful attitudes, as they discussed 
 Cornelia's " favorite," and reflected how much the 
 poetry and beauty that environ youth, when refined 
 by nature and polished by education, surpass tho 
 liighest achievements of art. 
 
 " What innocence in that face I What dewy soft- 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 381 
 
 ness in the steadfast eyes !" exclaimed Cornelia. 
 " The very shoes have an appropriate expression ! 
 dear little bird ! one can't help loving her, and want- 
 ing to know all about her." 
 
 " If she were not deaf and dumb," said her cava- 
 lier, " I am sure she would rise and make a courtesy 
 to such flattering admirers I I am getting dreadfully 
 jealous of her!" 
 
 " You needn't be, as far as I am concerned," re- 
 torted Ida ; " for my part, I don't like that brown 
 stuflf dress ! She isn't fixed up a, bit, as children 
 always are, when they sit for their portraits." And 
 she tripped away to take another look at her especial 
 admiration — ^the ^^ Peasants Returning from the 
 Harvest-field^'* which is, indeed, a gem. 
 
 " What does Miss Ida mean ?" inquired Alloway, 
 smilingly, of her sister. 
 
 "I am sure I don't know," returned Cornelia, 
 " she is full of sentiment, which she always endeavors 
 to hide." 
 
 "With your permission I will go and ask her," 
 Baid the admirer of the truant, and bowing politely 
 to us both, he followed Ida. 
 
 I will just add, here, that I learned afterwards, ac- 
 cidentally, and not even remotely through him, that 
 the persons with whom we met Alloway that morn- 
 ing, were the mother and brother of that scapegrace 
 we first saw him with. They had come to New 
 York with the understanding that he would meet 
 them there, at an appointed time, and assist in the 
 care required by his dying relative ; but this prorais- 
 
382 THE AMEEICAN GENTLEMAN 's GUIDE 
 
 ing youth had suddenly left the city, without leaviug 
 any clue to his proceedings, probably, in pursuit of 
 Bome pretty face, which, like Cornelia's, happened 
 to attract his attention. Luckily, the poor mother 
 learned that Alloway, who was slightly known to 
 her, was in the city, and appealed to him for assist- 
 ance — with what success may be inferred from the 
 little incident I have narrated. 
 
 It has always been a matter of marvel, with the 
 learned in such matters, how Sir Walter Scott accom- 
 plished such Herculean literary labors in conjunc- 
 tion with the discharge of so many public and social 
 duties. As he himself used to say, he long had a 
 " troop of dragoons galloping through his head," to 
 which, as their commanding officer, he devoted 
 much attention; he was sheriff of the county — (in 
 the discharge of the duties of this office, by the way, 
 he used to march through the streets of the shire- 
 town, during court term, arrayed in a gown and bag 
 wig, at the head of his j[)osse comitatus^ greatly to 
 his own amusement and that of his friends) — and 
 remarkable for the most urbane and diffusive hospi- 
 tality. After he ceased to be the Greai Unknown, 
 or rather, after he was identified with that celebrity, 
 Abbotsford became the resort of innumerable visi- 
 tors, attracted thither by curiosity, interest, or friend- 
 ship. Not only his beautiful residence, but the nu- 
 
TO POLITEJfESS AKD FASHION. 383 
 
 merons points of sceneiy and the superb ruins in the 
 neighborhood of Abbotsford, which had been ren- 
 dered classic by his magic pen, were to be inspected 
 by these guests, and Scott always seemed to have 
 time for a gallop among the hills, an excursion to 
 Dryburgh and Melrose Abbey, a pilgrimage along 
 the banks of the romantic river he has helped to 
 immortalize, or a lively chat with the ladies after 
 dinner. And he never had that air of pre-occupa- 
 tion that so often characterizes literary men, in gene- 
 ral society. He took part in the most genial and 
 hearty manner, in the conversation of the moment, 
 bringing his full quota to the common stock of mirth, 
 anecdote and jest. I can almost see him, as I write, 
 sitting in the midst of a social circle, in his draw- 
 ing-room, trotting the curly-pated little son of Mrs. 
 Hemans, who was at Abbotsford on a visit, with 
 her sister and this child, upon his strong knee, and 
 singing, 
 
 " Charley my darling, my darling, Charley my darling,** 
 
 at intervals, for the amusement of the little fellow. 
 I chanced, too, to accompany him, when he attended 
 the poetess to her post-chaise, on the morning of her 
 departure, and had occasion to remark his courteous 
 hospitality to the last. " There are some pei*sons," 
 said he, with his cordial smile, as he offered his hand 
 at parting, " whom one earnestly desires to meet 
 again. You, madam, are one of those." But I am 
 quite forgetting the object that induced my recur* 
 rence to these well-remembered scenes. 
 
384 THE AMERICAN GENTLEMAN'S GUIDE 
 
 In answer to some leading remark of mine, regard- 
 ing the wonderful versatility of his father-in-law, 
 addressed to Mr. Lockhart, as we stood together con 
 templating the ivy-mantled walls of Dryburgh, he 
 informed me of the secret of his extraordinary 
 achievements with the pen : " When you meet him 
 at breakfast," said Mr. Lockhart, " he has already, 
 as he expresses it, 'broken the neck of the day's 
 work ' — he writes in the morning. Eschewing the 
 indulgences of late rising and slippered ease (at the 
 last he rails incontinentl}'), he is up with the lark — 
 by half past four or five, dresses as you see him at 
 a later hour, in out-door costume, visits the stables, 
 and then sets himself resolutely to work. By nine 
 o'clock, when he joins us, he has accomplished the 
 labors of a day, almost." 
 
 " His correspondence alone must occupy an im- 
 mense deal of time," said I. 
 
 "And yet," returned my companion, " Sir Walter 
 makes it a rule to answer every letter on the day of 
 its reception. It must be an urgent cause that inter- 
 feres with this habit. And I am often astonished at 
 the length and careful composition of his replies to 
 the queries of literary correspondents, as well as to 
 his letters of friendship." 
 
 " One would suppose his health must be impaired 
 by such severe mental labor," I answered. 
 
 " His cheerful temper, and his power to leave care 
 'behind him in his study, are a great assistance to 
 him," replied Mr. Lockhart, moving towards our 
 horses, as he spoke — " but here," he added, smilingly, 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 385 
 
 laying his hand on his saddle, " here is his grand 
 preservative. It must be foul weather, indeed, even 
 for our Northern land of mists and clouds, that keeps 
 him from his daily allowance of fresh airP 
 
 " Sir Walter is an accomplished horseman, I ob- 
 serve," said I, as we resumed our ride. 
 
 " You may well say that !" exclaimed his son-in- 
 law, laughing. " I wish you could have seen him at 
 the head of his troop of horse, charging an imagi- 
 nary foe. Only the other day, his favorite steed 
 broke the arm of a groom who attempted to mount 
 him ; and yet, in Sir Walter's hands, he is as docile 
 as need be. There seems to be some secret under- 
 standing between him and his horses and dogs. 
 This very horse, though he will never permit another 
 man to mount him, seems to obey his master's be- 
 hests with real pride as well as pleasure. I believe 
 he would kneel to receive him on his back, were he 
 bidden to do so." 
 
 Dipping into an instructive and pleasant, though 
 no longer new book,* the other day, I came across 
 the following passage: "Brougham has recorded 
 that the peroration of his speech in the Queen's 
 case" — his celebrated defence of Queen Caroline 
 against her beastly husband — " was written no less 
 than ten times before he thought it fit for so august 
 an occasion. The same is .probably true of similar 
 passages in Webster's speeches ; it is known to bo 
 
 • Sketches of Reform and Reformers,— by H, B. Stanton. 
 IT 
 
386 
 
 80 of Burke's." What do you think of such examples 
 of industry and perseverance as these, young gentle- 
 men? 
 
 *^ Step in, ma'am, step in, if you please," said our 
 Jehu, opening the door of a stage-coach, in which I 
 was making a journey through a region not then 
 penetrated by modern improvements, " would you 
 like the back seat ?" Beside him stood a slightly- 
 formed, delicate-looking girl, in a hesitating atti- 
 tude. 
 
 " I cannot ride backwards without being ill," said 
 she, timidly, " and I — I shall be sorry to disturb any 
 one, but I would like to sit by a window." 
 
 A young man who was sitting on the middle seat 
 with me immediately alighted, to make room for the 
 more convenient entrance of the stranger, and, as he 
 did so, the driver said decidedly — " Shall be obliged 
 to ask the gentlemen on the back seat to accommo- 
 date the lady." Alow-browed, surly-looking young 
 fellow, who sat nearest the door of the vehicle, on 
 the seat designated, doggedly kept his place, mutter- 
 ing something about having th^iirst claim, " first 
 come, first served," etc. Seeing how matters stood, 
 a good-natured, farmer-like looking old man, who 
 occupied the other end of the seat, called out 
 cheerily, "The young woman is welcome to my 
 place, if I can only get out of it!" and he began 
 at once to suit the action to the word. 
 
 By this time the before pale face of the young 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 3S7 
 
 girl was painfully flushed, and she said, in a low, 
 deprecating tone, "I am very sorry to make so 
 much trouble." 
 
 **!N"o trouble at all, ma'am — none at all! Just 
 reach me your hand and I'll help you up — ^that's 
 it I" 
 
 " I am much obliged to you, sir — very much ! I 
 hope you will find a good seat for yourself," said 
 the recipient of his kindness, gently. 
 
 " No doubt of it I" returned he of the cheery voice. 
 " I ain't at all sorry to change a little — them back 
 seat's plaguy cramped up ! They say," added he, 
 settling himself next the boot, " that the front seat's 
 the easiest of all. One thing, there's more room 
 [stretching his legs with an air of infinite relief 
 between those of his opposite neighbors], a duced 
 Bight!" 
 
 " Take your fare, gem'men," cried a bustling per- 
 sonage, at this moment. 
 
 "What is the fare from here to O ?" inquired 
 
 the stationary biped in the corner behind me. 
 
 " Six shillings, York money," was the ready re- 
 sponse. 
 
 " Six shillings !" growled the other ; " seems to me 
 there's great extortion all 'long this road. Yesterday 
 I paid out three dollars, hard money — twelve shil- 
 lin' for lodgin', supper, and breakfast, back here 
 toG !" 
 
 " Take your fare nozo, sir," interrupted the bust- 
 ling little man at the door, stepping upon the wheel, 
 in sublime indifference to the muttered anathemas, 
 
388 
 
 half addressed to him. "What name, sir?" — prepar- 
 ing to write on the " way-bill "— " always^ sir ! it is 
 rulable — always put down the name." 
 
 The low voice of the lady, when she was reached, 
 in due order, was almost lost in the grumbling kept 
 up by the agreeable occupant of the corner seat. 
 The most amusing commingling of opposite sounds 
 reached my ears, somewhat like the soft tones of a 
 distant flute, and the growling — not loud, but deep — 
 of a hungry mastiff. " Julia Peters " — " takes off the 
 silver, by thunder!" — "Is my band-box put on?" 
 here a chinking, as of money counted, and then a hur- 
 ried fumbling appeared to take place in the " deep- 
 est depths" of various pockets. "How soon will 
 we be there," in silvery murmurs — " By George ! I 
 swear I b'lieve I lost two shillin' !" — " Before dark !" 
 chimed in the flute-notes. " I am glad to hear it !" 
 " I'll be hanged if any one shall come it over me !" 
 surged over the musical ripple. " When you stop at 
 my brother-in-law's," concluded the softer voice, in 
 this unique duet. 
 
 Having been sometime on the wing, I fell into a 
 doze, as we proceeded. As I roused myself, at 
 length, the young man who had alighted to make 
 room for the entrance of Miss Peters, whispered, 
 "That young lady seems very ill— what can we 
 do for her relief?" A moment's attention convinced 
 me that the poor thing was horribly stage-sich 
 When she appeared to rally a little, I turned round 
 to her, and said, that I trusted she would allow me to 
 render her any service in my power. Forcing a 
 
TO POIJTENESS AND FASHION. 389 
 
 smile, she thanked me, and replied that she would 
 soon be better she thought, adding, in a still lower 
 tone, that the smell of tobacco always affected her 
 very sensibly. This last remark was at the time 
 unintelligible to me, but I afterwards learned that the 
 animal on the same seat with her had regaled him- 
 self upon the vilest of cigars while I was napping, 
 and that the only attempt at an apology he had 
 offered was a mumbled remark that, " as the wind 
 blew the smoke out of the stage, he s'posed no one 
 hadn't no objections I" 
 
 Despite the hope expressed by my suffering neigh- 
 bor, she did not get better, but continued to endure 
 a most exhausting ordeal. Every decent man in the 
 coach seemed to sympathize with her, the rather 
 that she so evidently tried to make the best of it, 
 and to avoid annoying others. Every one had a 
 different remedy to suggest, but, unfortunately, hone 
 of them available, as there was no stopping place 
 near. Though a somewhat experienced traveller, my 
 ingenuity could, until we should stop, effect no more 
 than disposing my large woollen shawl so as to aid in 
 supporting the weary head of the poor child. 
 
 As soon as we reached the next place for changing 
 horses, I sprang out, in common with the other pas- 
 sengers, and, inquiring for the nearest druggist, has- 
 tened to procure a little reliable brandy. 
 
 Having previously arranged a change of seats with 
 the harmless stripling who had thus far occupied 
 the middle back seat, I entered the stage, and 
 quietly told the young lady that, as there was no on© 
 
300 
 
 of her own sex aboard, I should claim the privilege 
 of age, and prescribe for her, if she would permit 
 me. 
 
 " This is not a pleasant dose, I must warn you," 
 said I, offering her a single tea^oonful of clear 
 brandy^ " but I can safely promise you relief, if you 
 will swallow it; this is a nice, clean glass, too," X 
 added, smilingly, for I well knew how much that as- 
 surance would encourage my patient. 
 
 "I do not know how to thank you sufficiently, 
 sir," said the young lady, striving to speak cheerfully, 
 as she attempted to raise her head. Taking the 
 tumbler, with a trembling hand, she bravely swal- 
 lowed my prescription. I must own she gasped a 
 little afterwards, but I could not allow her the relief 
 of water, without nullifying the proper effect, so I 
 assisted her in removing her bonnet (which the good- 
 natured farmer, who had re-entered the coach with 
 me, carefully pinned upon the lining of the vehicle, 
 where it would safely swing), and in enveloping 
 her head in her veil, adjusting her shawl comfort- 
 ably about her, and wrapping my own about her 
 feet. 
 
 " K I become your physician," said I, as I stooped 
 to make the latter process more effectual, " you must 
 allow me the right to do as I think best." 
 
 "I shall be only too much obliged by your 
 kindness, sir," returned she. "All I fear is, that 
 you will give yourself unnecessary trouble on my 
 account." 
 
 " The gentleman don't seem to think it's no trou- 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 3^1 
 
 ble," interposed the old farmer, "'taint never no 
 trouble to good-hearted folks to help a fellow-cretur 
 in distress ! I wish my wife was here ; she knows a 
 great sight better than I do, how to take care o' sick 
 folks." 
 
 "I am sm-e," replied tlie invalid, "if kindness 
 could make people well, I should be restored. I 
 feel myself greatly indebted to you, gentlemen." 
 
 The slight color called to her cheek by the gen- 
 idne feeling with which she uttered these words, was 
 by no means decreased, as she gracefully accepted 
 the offerings of the youth who had first called my 
 attention to her indisposition. Coming up to the 
 side of the stage, near her, he expressed the hope 
 that she was feeling better, and, saying that he had 
 known sea-sickness relieved by lemon-juice, presented 
 a fine, fresh lemon, and a superb carnation-pink, and 
 quickly withdrew. 
 
 Mr. Benton^-that I heard him tell the way-bill- 
 man was his name — lost something in not hearing 
 and seeing all I did of the pleasure he bestowed by 
 his gifts ; but he had his reward, as he re-seated him- 
 self near us. 
 
 " You did not give me an opportunity to thank 
 you for your politeness, sir," the lady hastened to 
 say, with a pretty, half-shrinking manner, "I am 
 so much obliged to you for the flower ! it is so spicy 
 and refreshing, and so very beautiful." 
 
 "A very indifferent apology for a bouquet," re* 
 turned the gentleman, " all I could find, however. I 
 
392 THE AMERICAN GENTLEMAn's QVIDK 
 
 am very happy if it affords you the slightest gratifi- 
 cation." 
 
 1^0 sooner were we fairly on our way again, than 
 I insisted upon supporting the head of my fair pa- 
 tient upon my shoulder, assuring her that ten min- 
 utes' sleep would complete tlie cure already begun 
 in her case. She blushed, and hesitated a little, 
 upon the plea that she would tire me. 
 
 "Allow me to be the judge of that," I answered, 
 with.some gravity, " and permit the freedom of an 
 old man." With this, I placed my arm firmly about 
 her slight .form, and, without more ado, the languid 
 head dropped upon my shoulder. 
 
 I very soon had the satisfaction to discover that 
 " tired nature's sweet restorer " had come to my as- 
 sistance, and to discern the return of some natural 
 color to the pallid face of the poor sufferer ; so gatli- 
 ering her shawl more closely about her, and disposing 
 myself more effectually to support my light burden, 
 I maintained my vigil until the sudden stopping of 
 the vehicle aroused us all. 
 
 " The lady gets out here," cried the driver, open- 
 ing the door, and, through the obscurity that had 
 now gathered about us, I dimly discerned the out- 
 lines of the small dwelling in front of which we were 
 at a stand. In another moment, the door was flung 
 hurriedly open, and a gentleman hastened forward 
 to receive my fair charge, who, notwithstanding the 
 confusion of the moment, found time to acknowledge 
 the insignificant attentions she had received from 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 39S 
 
 her travelliug companions, mncli more warmly than 
 thev deserved. Our last glimpse of my interesting 
 patient, revealed her folded closely in the arms of 
 a lady, who appeared in the lighted passage, and 
 embraced, simultaneously, by several curly-headed 
 children, who clung to her dress, and hung upon her 
 neck with manifest and noisy delight. 
 
 We lumbered along, across a dark, covered bridge, 
 up hill and down, and then I reached my destina- 
 tion, for the nonce, the " 'New York Hotel," as the 
 
 little tavern of the village of B was grand-elo- 
 
 quently styled. 
 
 " Well, I ain't sorry we're arrove !" exclaimed the 
 elegant young man, with whose courtesy of nature my 
 story opened. " George !" — stretching his ungainly 
 limbs upon the porch of the house — "won't some 
 tipple be line ? Hotel tipple's good enough for me !" 
 
 Before I could decide in my own mind whether 
 this last declaration was intended as a fling at me, 
 for not giving Miss Peters a match for his disgusting 
 tobacco-smoke, from the bar of the stage-house, when 
 I came to the rescue in her service, he was scuffling 
 with some ragged boys for his trunk, and, as ho 
 marched off with his prize, I heard a characteristic 
 growl over the prospective tax upon his purse. 
 
 The next day was Sunday, and, of course, I was 
 temporarily at a stand-still in my journey. 
 
 The sexton of the neat little church to which I 
 found my way in the morning, put me into a pew 
 next behind that I surmised to be the Eector's. A 
 movement among its occupants arrested my attention^ 
 
 17* 
 
394: 
 
 and 1 soon became really interested in remarking 
 the healthful beauty of the children, who, disposed 
 between the two ladies occupying the extreme ends 
 of the seat, seemed to find some difficulty in keeping 
 as quiet as decorum required. 
 
 " I want to sit by aunt Julia," I overheard, as a 
 bright-eyed little fellow began to nestle uneasily in 
 his seat. Upon this, the lady at the top of the pew 
 turned her head, and, behold ! the face of my young 
 stage-coach friend I She was too much engaged, 
 however, in aiding their mother, as I supposed her 
 to be, in settling the children, before the service 
 should commence, to observe me, and I almost 
 doubted whether the happy, smiling face I saw, was 
 identical with the worn and colorless one that had 
 reposed so helplessly upon my breast on the previous 
 evening ; but there was no mistaking the soft, blue 
 eyes, and the wavy hair, almost as sunny in hue 
 as that of the little fellow who, at length, rested 
 quietly, with his head pillowed on her arm. 
 
 Scarcely had we begun with the Psalter, before Miss 
 Peters looked quickly round, with a startled glance. 
 A half-smile of recognition lighted her sweet face, 
 and then her gaze was as quickly withdrawn. 
 
 "Good morning, sir!" exclaimed my new ac- 
 quaintance, advancing eagerly toward me, and offer- 
 ing her hand, as soon as we were in the vestibule of 
 the church, at the conclusion of the service ; " I did 
 not anticipate this pleasure-rsister, this is the gen- 
 tleman to whom I was so much indebted yesterday." 
 
 "We are all much obliged by your kindness to 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 895 
 
 Kiss Peters sir," her companioii hastened to say, 
 iind both bowed most politely to my disclaimers of 
 meiit for so ordinary an act of humanity as that to 
 which they referred, and to my inquiries for the 
 health of my fair patient. 
 
 Then followed a cordial invitation to dinner, in 
 which each vied with the other in frank hospitality. 
 I attempted to compromise the matter by a promise 
 to pay my respects to the ladies in the evening. 
 
 " We do not dine until five on Sunday, sir, and 
 
 that is almost evening ! Mr. Y- will walk over 
 
 and accompany you — ^you are at the Hotel ? It will 
 give us great pleasure if you will come, unceremoni- 
 ously, and partake of a simple family dinner. Miss 
 Peters claims you as a friend.^'' 
 
 There was no withstanding this, especially as each 
 phrase of courtesy was made doubly expressive, by 
 the most ingenuously hospitable manner. 
 
 '' Keally, ladies," said I, as we reached the gate 
 of the Pectory, "there is no resisting such fair 
 tempters! I will be most happy to exchange the 
 solitude of my dull room for the joys of your Eden." 
 
 And, insisting that I could not permit Mr. Y 
 
 to add to his clerical duties the fatigue of calling for 
 me, I renewed my expressions of gratification at the 
 restoration of Miss Peters, and took my leave. 
 
 I was still engaged in laying off my overcoat and 
 
 shoes, after sending in my card, when Mr. Y 
 
 came out to welcome ^me ; and a most cordial wel- 
 come it was ! Such a warm hand-shaking as he gave 
 me, and such emphatic assurances of the pleasure it 
 
396 
 
 afforded liim to make my acquaintance ! And wLen 
 I entered the tasteful little parlor, where I found 
 the ladies, I was received with equally frank hospi- 
 tality. The children united with their seniors in 
 making me feel, at once, that I was among friends. 
 One little circumstance, I remember, particularly 
 touched me. I was scarcely seated, when a little 
 tottering thing, with a toy in her hand, came and 
 placed herself between my knees, and raising a pair 
 of large, truthful, blue eyes to mine, lisped out, " I 
 does 'ouv 'ou dearly ! — 'ou was 'o dood to aun' Dule ! 
 — I dive 'ou my pretty 'ittle birdie !" and the little 
 cherub presented me the toy. — It was many a long 
 day afterwards, believe me, my dear boys, before the 
 warmth infused into the heart of an old campaigner, 
 by the simple adventures of that quiet village Sab- 
 bath, ceased to glow cheerily in his heart ! 
 
 After the unpretending, but pleasant, well-appointed 
 dinner was concluded, Miss Peters rose, and, with a 
 slight apology to me, was leaving the room, when 
 her sister arrested her. Some playful, whispered 
 contest seemed to be going on between the two, of 
 which I could not help overhearing, in the sweet, 
 silvery tones that had charmed me in the stage- 
 coach, " You know, dear, it's such a luxury to me ! 
 — you are always with them. I will have my own 
 way when I am here !" and away she flew like a 
 fawn. 
 
 Presently, the pattering of numerous tiny feet, and 
 a commingling of joyous voices, and the music of 
 childish laughter, reached my ears, from the staii-s, 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION 397 
 
 and then all was for a moment hnshed. !Now there 
 was distinctly heard from above, the swelling notes 
 of a simple, child's hymn, sung by several voices, 
 led by the musical one I had learned to distinguish, 
 and then followed a low-murmured " Our Father," 
 as I thought. 
 
 " Colonel Lunettes," said my hostess, drawing a 
 chair to the sofa corner, where I had been snugly 
 ensconced by two of the children, before they said 
 good-night, " I will take advantage of sister's absence 
 to express my personal obligations to you for your 
 kind care of her yesterday " 
 
 " My dear Madam," I interposed, " I regard my 
 meeting your sister as a special Providence, for 
 which I alone should be deeply grateful !" 
 
 "You are very polite, sir," answered the lady, 
 " we, too, should be grateful. Julia should never tra- 
 vel alone. Mr. Y always goes over to O • 
 
 for her, when we expect her, and intended to do so 
 this time, but she insisted upon it in her last letter, 
 that she hnew she wouldn't be ill, and that he would 
 only distress her by coming, as she was sure he was 
 necessarily very busy, preparing for the Bishop's 
 visit, and, indeed, she expected to come over with 
 an elder lady teacher in the Seminary." 
 
 " Tlien Miss Peters is instructing, Mrs. Y ?'' 
 
 " She is, sir. We are orphans [a slight quiver in 
 the tones] and Julia prefers to make this effort for 
 herself" 
 
 " I am opposed to it," continued Mr. Y , tak- 
 ing up the narrative, as his wife half-paused, "and 
 
398 
 
 much prefer that Julia ehould be with us, — she and 
 
 Mrs. Y should not be separated. I am sure 
 
 there is room enough in our hearts for all mir chil- 
 dren, and Julia is one of them !" 
 
 The grateful, loving smile, and dewy eyes of the 
 wife, alone expressed her sense of pleasure at these 
 w^ords. For myself, I declare to you, I did not like 
 to trust myself to reply. I was turning over some 
 new pages of the history of human nature ! Some- 
 times I think, as I did then, that the soul of man 
 never reaches the full development of its earthly ca- 
 pacities, except when continually subjected to the 
 blessed influences of nature! The city — the beaten 
 thoroughfares of existence — curb, if they do not 
 deaden, the better manifestations of the spirit, check 
 forever, the most beautiful, individualizing speciali- 
 ties of manner even ! But I did not mean to moral- 
 ize. 
 
 When Miss Peters rejoined us, her brother-in-law 
 rose (as I also did, of course) and seated her between 
 us, on the sofa. 
 
 " My dear young lady," said I, taking her hand 
 respectfully in my own, " permit me to say, as Dr. 
 Johnson did to Hannah More, upon meeting her for 
 the first time, ' / understand that you are engaged 
 in the useful and honorable occupation of instructing 
 young ladies,^ — if it were possible more thoroughly 
 to forget the brevity of our acquaintance, than 1 have 
 already done, this would have deepened my respect 
 and interest for you ! Pardon me, if I take too 
 great a liberty. You have, from the commencement 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 309 
 
 of our acquaintance, permitted me the privileges of 
 an octogenarian " 
 
 " And of a gentleman of the old school /" slie 
 added, with great vivacity, and with the most be- 
 witching smile. 
 
 " Before I leave you, my dear Miss Peters, will 
 you allow me to make a prophecy ?" 
 
 " If you are a prophet of good, sir " 
 
 " Can you doubt it, when your future fate is the 
 subject?" 
 
 "Indeed, sir, I shall have great faith in your 
 auguries !" returned my fair neighbor, bestowing the 
 twin of her first smile upon me. 
 
 " Well, then, my dear, it is my solemn conviction 
 that you have not yet learned all you will one day 
 know of the depth of the impression you have left 
 upon the heart of Mr. Benton," I answered, with a 
 gravity that I intended should tell. 
 
 " Mr. Benton ! so that's his name ?" laughed Mrs. 
 
 y , gaily. "Julia pretended not to know his 
 
 name ! I thought it was a conquest ! I have not 
 yet had an opportunity of looking out the ''language'' 
 of a very large, fullblown carnation pink!" 
 
 "Ko doubt," interrupted Mr. Y , "it is pre- 
 cisely the opposite of lemon-juice /" 
 
 Between laughing and blushing, the fair subject 
 of this badinage made but a faint show of resistance ; 
 but, at this juncture, she managed to say, as she 
 turned to me, with a most courteous bow. 
 
 "I very much question whether the sentiments 
 expressed by any flower can more readily touch tJie 
 
400 
 
 heart, than that I have known conveyed by a tea* 
 sjpoonful of brandy /" 
 
 " Bravo !" cried Mr. Y . 
 
 " Well done, Jule !" echoed my hostess. 
 
 And I ! — my feelings were too deep for words ! I 
 could only lay my hand upon my heart, and raise 
 my eyes to the ceiling. 
 
 Perhaps there is no better test of the unexception- 
 ableness of a habit, than to suppose it generally 
 adopted, and infer the consequences. I remember 
 some such reflection, in connection with a little cir- 
 cumstance that once fell under my observation: — 
 Dining with a young Canadian, at his residence in 
 Kingston, C. W., I met, among other persons, an 
 English notability, of whom I had frequently heard 
 and read. A slight pause in the conversation, made 
 doubly audible a loud yawn proceeding from one 
 corner of the dining-room, and, as a general look of 
 surprise was visible, a huge Newfoundland dog ap- 
 proached us, stretching his limbs, and shaking from 
 his shaggy coat anything but 
 
 " Sabaean odors, from the spicy shores 
 Of Araby the Blest !" 
 
 Our host endeavored to say something polite, and 
 the animal, advancing toward the celebrity, stationed 
 himself, familiarly, at his master's side, somewliat to 
 the annoyance, probably, of the lady next him. 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 401 
 
 With the utmost sangfroid^ the " privileged char- 
 acter " held his finger-bowl to his dog, and remarked, 
 as he eagerly lapped the contents, that he had eaten 
 highly-seasoned venison at lunch ! 
 
 " Foreigners," says Madame de Stael, " are a kind 
 of contemporaneous posterity." This truth apart, I 
 had sufficient reason to blush for my country, on 
 more than one occasion, lately, while travelling at 
 the "West, in company with a well-bred young Eu- 
 ropean. His own manners were so pleasing as to 
 render more striking the peculiarities of others, and 
 his habits so refined, as, when united with his large 
 observation and intelligence, to make him an ex- 
 ceedingly agreeable person to associate with. 
 
 One hot day, during a portion of our journey per^ 
 formed by steamer, I looked up from my book, and 
 saw him coming toward me. 
 
 " I have found a cool place, sir," said he, " and 
 have come to beg you to join me — we shall be un- 
 . disturbed there." 
 
 I rose, and was about to take up my seat. 
 
 " Allow me, sir ! I am the younger," said he ; and 
 lie insisted upon carrying my seat, as well as the one 
 he had previously secured for himself. And this 
 was his habitual phrase, when there was any occa- 
 sion to allude to the difi'erence in our years. He 
 never said — " You are older than I am," or insinu- 
 ated that my lameness made me less active than he, 
 when he ofi:ered his arm, in our numerous prome- 
 
402 
 
 nades. The idea lie seemed ever studying to express 
 was, that he had pleasure in the society of the old 
 soldier, and thought him entitled to respect and pre- 
 cedence on all occasions. Aside from the personal 
 gratification and comfort I derived from these grace- 
 ful and unremitting attentions, it was a source of 
 perpetual pleasure to me to observe his beautiful 
 courtesy to all with whom he came in contact. He 
 had with him a land surveyor, or agent of some sort ; 
 with this person he, apparently, found little in com- 
 mon, but, when he had occasion to converse with 
 him, I always remarked his punctilious politeness. 
 And so with his servant ; he always requested^ never 
 ordered, him to do what he wished. Reserved and 
 laconic, when giving him directions, there was yet 
 a certain assuring kindliness in his 'ooice^ that seemed 
 to act like a talisman upon his man, who, speaking 
 our language very imperfectly, would have often suf- 
 fered the consequences of embarrassing mistakes, 
 but for the clear, simple, intelligible directions and 
 explanations of his master. But to return. 
 
 Scarcely were we seated quietly in the retired 
 spot so carefully selected by my friend, when a 
 couple of young fellows came swaggering along, and 
 stationing themselves near us, began smoking, spit- 
 ting and talking so loudly, as to disturb and annoy 
 us, exceedingly. 
 
 " What a pity that this fine air should be so poi- 
 soned!" exclaimed my companion, in French, glanc- 
 ing at the intruders. "For my part, 'j^re aw is good 
 enough for me, without perfume !" 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 403 
 
 " Do you never smoke ?" I asked, in the same 
 tx>ngue. 
 
 " Certainly ! but I do not smoke always and every- 
 where ! !N"eitlier do I think it decent to soil every 
 place with tobacco-juice, as you do in this country !" 
 
 "It is infamous!" returned I. "Kow just look at 
 those fellows ! See how near they are to that group 
 of ladies, and then look at the condition of the deck 
 all around them." As I spoke, the lady nearest the 
 nuisance, apparently becoming suddenly aware of 
 her dangerous proximity, hurriedly gathered her 
 dress closely about her, and moved as far away as 
 she could without separating herself from her party. 
 Despite these indications, the shower continued to 
 fall plentifully around, and the smoke to blow into 
 the faces of those who were so unfortunate as to be 
 seated in the neighborhood. 
 
 " Have you not regulations to prevent such annoy- 
 ances," inquired the stranger. 
 
 " Every steamer professes to have them, I believe," 
 returned I, " but if such vulgar men as these choose 
 to violate them, no one even thinks of insisting upon 
 their enforcement — every one submits, and every 
 one is annoyed — that is, all decent people are!" 
 
 " Vive la Liberte et VEgaliteP^ exclaimed the 
 European, laughing good-humoredly. 
 
 " As if echoing the mirth of my companion, a 
 merry laugh from the group of ladies near us, arrest- 
 ed my attention at this moment. "Without appearing 
 to remark them, I soon ascertained that they were 
 amusing themselves with the ridiculous figure pre» 
 Bented by one of the smokers. His associate had left 
 
40* 
 
 him " alone in his glory," and there he sat, fast asleep, 
 with his mouth wide open, his hat over one eye, 
 and his feet tucked across under the seat of his chair, 
 which supported only on its hind legs, was tilted 
 back against the side of the cabin. My description 
 can give you but a poor idea of the ludicrousness of 
 the thing. One of those laughing girls would have 
 done it better ! I overheard more than one of their 
 di'oU comments. 
 
 " What if his chair should upset, when he ' catches 
 fish !' " exclaimed a pretty little girl, looking roguish- 
 ly from under her shadowing round straw hat. 
 
 "There is more danger that that wasp will fly 
 down his throat," replied another of the gay bevy, 
 " What a yawning cavern it is ! That wasp is hover- 
 ing over the ' crack of doom !' " 
 
 "He reminds me rather of Daniel in the lion's 
 den," put in a third. 
 
 " Let's move our seats before he wakes up," cried 
 one of the girls, as the nondescript made a slight 
 demonstration upon a fly that had invaded his repose. 
 " He is protected by the barricade he has surround- 
 ed himself with — like a upas-tree in the centre of 
 its own vile atmosphere — but we^ unwary travellers, 
 are not equally safe !" 
 
 A day or two afterwards, these very yc:ing men 
 were just opposite me at table, in a hotel in one of 
 our large Western cities. 
 
 They were well dressed (with the exception of 
 colored shirts) and well-looking enough, but, after 
 what I had previously seen of them, I was not sur« 
 prised to observe their habits of eating. One would 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 405 
 
 throw up both arms, and clasp his hands over his 
 head, while waiting for a re-supply of food; the 
 other stop, now and then, to lay off\i\s> bushy mous- 
 tache, so as to make more room for the shovelling 
 process he kept up with his knife, for the more rapid 
 disappearance of a large goblet of water at one swal- 
 lowing, or for the introduction of a mammoth ear of 
 corn, which he took both hands to hold, while he 
 gobbled up row after row, with inconceivable rapid- 
 ity. Then one would manipulate an enormous 
 drum-stick, while he lolled comfortable back in his 
 chair, grievously belaboring his voluminous beard, 
 the while, and leaving upon it an all-sufficient sub- 
 stitute for maccassar, and the other, simultaneously 
 make a loud demonstration with his pocket-handker- 
 chief, or upon his head. Now one would stretch out 
 his legs under the table, until he essentially invaded 
 ray reserved rights, and then the other insert his 
 tongue first in one cheek, and then in the other, rol- 
 ling it vigorously round, as a cannoneer would swab 
 out a great gun with his sponge, before re-loading ! 
 Flushed, heated, steaming, the hea,ps of sweet-pota- 
 to skins, bones, and bits of food profusely scattered 
 over the soiled cloth, fully attested the might of their 
 achievements ! 
 
 Much of this, as I said, I was prepared for, but I 
 was somewhat surprised by what followed. 
 
 I had sent for a quail, I think, or some other small 
 game, and was preparing to discuss its merits, when 
 one of these young men, reaching over, stuck his fork 
 into the bird, and ta-ansfcrred it to his own plate ! 
 
406 
 
 I saw at a glance that no offense was intended to 
 me — that the seeming rudeness was simply the result 
 of vulgarity and ignorance ; so 1 very quietly directed 
 the servant to bring me another bird. 
 
 Scarcely was the second dish placed before me, 
 when the other youth of this delectable pair exactly 
 repeated the action of his companion, and I again 
 found myself minus my game. 
 
 " Mon Dieu .^" cried my young foreign friend, " if 
 you can endure that, you are a hero, sir !" 
 
 An hour or two subsequent to this agreeable inci- 
 dent, I was again seated in the cars, and hearing a 
 noise behind me, soon satisfied myself that my neigh- 
 bors at dinner that day were to be my neighbors 
 still, and that they were at present busily employed 
 in disputing with the conductor respecting a seat 
 next their own, which they wished to monopolize for 
 the accommodation of their legs, and which, in con- 
 sequence of the crowded state of the cars, the man 
 insisted upon filling with other passengers. Pre- 
 sently there came in a pale, weary-looking woman, 
 with a wailing infant in her arms and another young 
 child clinging to her garments. She found a seat 
 where she could, and sinking into it, disposed of a 
 large basket she had also carried, and commenced 
 trying to pacify the baby. 
 
 Here was a fit subject for the rude jests and jibes 
 of the young fellows I have described. And full use 
 did they make of their vulgar license of tongue. 
 The poor mother grew more and more distressed as 
 those unfeeling comments reached her ears from 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 407 
 
 time to time, and at each outbreak from the infant 
 strove more nervously to pacify it. 
 
 I observed that a good-humored looking, large, 
 handsome man, who sat a little before this woman, 
 frequently glanced round at the child, and sought to 
 divert its attention by various little playful motions. 
 At length, when the cars stopped for a few minutes, 
 out he sallied, in all haste, and presently returned 
 with his hands full of fruits and cakes. Offering a 
 liberal share of these to the woman and her little 
 girl, after distributing some to his party, he reserved 
 a bright red apple, and said cheerily to the mother : 
 " Let me take your little boy, ma'am, I think I can 
 quiet him." 
 
 The little urchin set up a loud scream, as he found, 
 himself in the strong grasp of the stranger ; but, a 
 few moments' perseverance effected his benevolent 
 purpose. Tossing the boy up, directing his atten- 
 tion to the apple, and then carrying him through the 
 empty car a turn or two, sufficed to chase away the 
 clouds and showers from what proved to be a bright, 
 pretty face, and very soon the amiable gentleman 
 returned to his scat, saying very quietly to the wo- 
 man, as he passed her, " We will keep your little 
 child awhile, and take good care of him." The baby, 
 was healthy-looking, and its clothes, though plain, 
 were entirely clean — so the poor thing was by no 
 means a disagreeable plaything for the young lady 
 beside whom the gentleman was seated. For some 
 little time they amused themselves in this humane 
 manner, and then the young man gently snugged tho 
 
408 
 
 weary creature down upon his broad chest, and 
 there it lay asleep, like a flower on a rock, nestled 
 under a shawl, and firmly supported by the enfolding 
 arm that seemed unconscious of its light burden. 
 
 Meantime the pale, tired mother regaled herself 
 with the refreshments so bountifully provided for 
 her, watching the movements of the little group be- 
 fore her with evident satisfaction; and at length 
 settled herself for a nap in the comer of her seat, 
 with the other child asleep in her lap. 
 
 The noisy comments of the " fast " young men in 
 the rear of the car became less audible and offensive, 
 I noticed, after the stranger came to the rescue, and 
 when I passed their seat, afterwards, I could not be 
 surprised at their comparative silence, upon behold- 
 ing the enormous quantity of pea-nut shells and fruit 
 skins with which the floor was strewn, and noticing 
 the industry with which they were squirting tobacco 
 juice over the whole. 
 
 By-and-by the cars made another pause. The 
 mother of the little boy roused herself and looked 
 hastily round for her treasures. Upon this the 
 young lady who occupied the seat with her new 
 friend came to her and seemed reassuring her. As 
 soon as the thronging crowd had passed out, I heard 
 her saying, as I caught a peep at the sweetest face, 
 bent smilingly towards the woman — " I made a nice 
 little bed for him, as soon as the next seat was empty, 
 and he is still fast asleep. Does he like milk ? Mr. 
 Grant will get some when he wakes — ^it is so unplea- 
 sant for a lady to get out of the cars." (Here the 
 
' TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 409 
 
 woman seemed to make some explanation, and a 
 shadow of sympathy passed over the smiling face I 
 was admiring, as one sees a passing cloud move 
 above a sunny landscape.) ""Well, we will be 
 glad to be of use to you, as far as we go on," pur- 
 sued the fair girl ; " I will find out all about it, and 
 tell you before we leave the cars. Now, just rest 
 all you can — ^let me put this shawl np a little 
 higher — there 1 It is such a relief to get off one's 
 bonnet ! I'll put it np for you. The little girl had 
 better come with me. — Oh, no, she will not, I am 
 sure ! What's your name, dear ? Mary ! that's the 
 pretiest name in the world ! everybody loves Mary ! 
 I have such a pretty book to show you" — and hav- 
 ing tucked up the object of her gentle care in quite 
 a cosy manner, while she was saying this, the good 
 girl gave a pretty, encouraging little nod to the 
 woman, and went back, taking the other juvenile 
 with her, to her own place. When her companion 
 joined her, she looked up in his face with a beam- 
 ing, triumphant sort of a smile, and, receiving a 
 response in the same expressive language, all seemed 
 quite understood between them. 
 
 " What an angel !" exclaimed the young Euro- 
 pean, in his favorite tongue, as he re-entered the 
 car, and caught part of this little by-scene. " Do 
 you know what she said to that poor woman ?" 
 
 I gave him all the explanation in my poVer. 
 His fine eyes kindled. " She is as good as she is 
 beautiful I Have you remarked the magnificent 
 bead of the gentleman with her? What a superb 
 
 18 
 
410 
 
 profile he has — so classic ! And his broad chest— 
 there's a model for a bust I I happened to be in the 
 studio of your celebrated countrymau, Powers, at 
 Florence, with my father, who was sitting to him, 
 when the great Thorwaldsen came to visit him. 
 Boy, as I was, at that time, I remember his words, 
 as he stood before the bust of your Webster : ^Ican- 
 7iot make such busts P But was it not, sir, because 
 he had no such models as your country affords?" 
 These were courteous words; but I do them poor 
 justice in the record ; I cannot express the voice 
 and manner from which they received their charm. 
 
 Well, at the risk of tiring you, I hasten to con- 
 clude my little sketch. I amused myself by quietly 
 watching the thing through, and noticed, towards 
 evening, that the amiable strangers went together to 
 the woman they had befriended, after the gentleman 
 had been into the hotel, before which we were 
 standing, seemingly to make some inquiry for her. 
 Both talked for a few minutes, apparently very 
 kindly, to her and to the children, and seemed to 
 encourage her by some assurance as they parted. 
 As they were turning away, the grateful mother 
 rose, and, snatching the hand first of one, and 
 then of the other, burst out, with a " God bless 
 you both !" so fervent as to be audible where I sat. 
 
 " Don't speak of such a trifle !" returned the 
 youth, in a clear, distinct voice, raising his noble 
 fonn to its full height, and flashing forth the light of 
 his falcon eye ; " for my part, I am very glad to bo 
 able to do a little good as I go along in the world 1" 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 411 
 
 In a few moments the handsome stranger was seen 
 carefully placing his fair travelling companion in an 
 elegant carriage, where a lady was awaiting them, 
 and upon which several trunks were already strap- 
 ped. While cordial greetings were still in progress 
 between the trio, a well-dressed servant gave the 
 reins to a superb pair of dark bays, and in another 
 insta^it they were flying along in the direction of a 
 stately-looking mansion of which I caught sight in 
 the distance. 
 
 " Who the d is that fellow ?" shouted one of 
 
 the pair in the rear. " I say, porter," stretching his . 
 body far out of the car window, and beckoning to a 
 man on the steps of the neighboring building, 
 " What's the name of those folks in that carriage ? 
 dev'lish pretty girl, I swear !" 
 
 "Sir-r-r?" answered Paddy, coming to the side 
 of the car, and pulling his dirty cap on one side 
 of his head with one hand, while he operated upon 
 his carroty hair with the fingers of the other; 
 " what's yer honor's plaizure ?" 
 
 "I say, what's the name of that gentleman who 
 has just gone off in that carriage there V* 
 
 " Oh ! sure that's young Gineral Grant ; him that 
 owns the fine house beyant — I hear tell he's the new 
 Congressman, sir!" 
 
 " jBien .^" whispered my foreign friend, laughing 
 heartily, " this is a great country ! you do things 
 upon so large a scale here, that one must not 
 wonder when extremes meetP^ 
 
412 
 
 "What, coz, still sitting with jour things on, 
 waiting ? Haven't you been impatient ?" 
 
 " Oh, no, not at all, I've been reading." 
 
 " Well, but, do you know it's twelve o'clock ? Wo 
 were to start at half-past ten. What did you think 
 of me for delaying so long ?" 
 
 " I was afraid some accident had happened ; but I 
 could see nothing from the window, and I did not 
 like to go out on the portico alone." 
 
 " Then you did not think me careless, and were 
 not vexed ?" 
 
 " Kot I, indeed ! I was sure you would come if 
 you could, and was only anxious about you, as you 
 were to try tliat new horse. I did not take off my 
 bonnet, because I kept expecting you every mo- 
 ment." 
 
 " And I kept expecting to come every moment — 
 that devilish animal ! I tried to send you word, but 
 I could not get sight of a servant — confound the fel- 
 lows! they are always out of the way when one 
 wants them." 
 
 " But, Charley, dear, what about the horse ? Has 
 he really troubled you? I am sorry you bought 
 him." 
 
 *' Oh, I've conquered him ! it wouldn't have taken 
 me so long before I had that devilish fever I But, 
 come, cozzy dear, will you go now, or is your pa- 
 tience all gone ?" 
 
 " I would like the drive — but, Charley, had we not 
 better put it off until to-morrow morning? You 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 4i3 
 
 must be tired out, and, perhaps, the horse will con- 
 tinue to trouble you." 
 
 " No, no — come, come along, if you are willing to 
 go." 
 
 Now, Charley and his cousin were together at a 
 little rural watering-place, in search of change of air 
 and scene. Charley had been recently ill, and, as 
 he chanced to be separated from his family at the time, 
 was particularly fortunate in having had the gentle 
 ministrations of Belle, as he usually called her, at 
 command, during his convalescence. 
 
 Belle was an orphan, without brothers, and she 
 clung to Charley with the tenacity of a loving 
 heart, deprived of its natural resources. Temporarily 
 relieved from her duties as a teacher, her cousin 
 invited her to accompany him in this little tour, in 
 pity for the languor that was betrayed by her droop- 
 ing eyes, and lagging step ; and his kindly nurse, 
 flattering herself that her " occupation " was not yet 
 quite " gone," was only too happy to escape from her 
 city prison, under such safe and agreeable protec- 
 tion. Yielding and quiet, as she ordinarily was, 
 Belle had very strict notions of propriety on some 
 points. So, when she and her cousin were mak- 
 ing their final arrangements, before commencing 
 their journey, she laid upon the table before him, a 
 bank-note of considerable amount, with the request 
 that he would appropriate it to the payment of her 
 travelling expenses. 
 
 " Time enough for that, by-and-by, coz." 
 
 " No, if you please, Charley. It is enough that^ 
 
414r THE AMERICAN GENTLEMAn's GTTIDB 
 
 you will be burdened by the care of me, without 
 having your purse taxed, too. Just be so good as 
 to keep a little account of what you pay for me — 
 remembering porterage, carriage-hire, and such mat- 
 ters — ^ladies always have the most luggage." And a 
 little hand playfully smoothed the doubled paper 
 upon the cuff of Charley's coat-sleeve, and left it 
 lying there. 
 
 Her cousin very well knew that this bank-note 
 comprised a large portion of Belle's quarterly salary, 
 though she made no allusion to the matter; and, 
 though his own resources were moderate, men so 
 much more easily acquire money than women — well, 
 never mind ! people differ in their ideas of luxury. 
 
 Charley had some new experiences in this little 
 tour of his and Belle's. He had an idea, previously, 
 that " women are always a bother, in travelling," and 
 he found himself sorely puzzled to make out, exactly, 
 what trouble it was to have his cousin always ready 
 to read to him, when they sat together on the deck 
 of a steamer, or while he lay on the sofa at a hotel, 
 to claim the comfortable seat at her side in a rail- 
 car, to have her keep his cane and book, while he 
 went out to chat with an acquaintance, watch when 
 he grew drowsy, and softly gather his shawl about 
 his neck, and make a pillow of her own for him, or 
 to see the tear that sometimes gathered in her meek 
 eyes, when she acknowleded any little courtesy on 
 his part. Then, when, after they were settled in 
 their snug quarters, at the watering-place. Belle, 
 half-timidly, sat a moment on his knee, and, looking 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 415 
 
 proudly round upon the order she liad brought out 
 of chaos, among his toilet articles, books, and clothes, 
 said — " Oh, what a happy week I have to thank you 
 for, dear cousin Charley 1 You have done so many, 
 many kind things for me, all the way ! I have had 
 to travel alone almost always since pa's — since " — he 
 was really quite at a loss to know what " kind things " 
 she referred to, and said so. 
 
 " Why, Charley !" returned she, making a vigor- 
 ous efibrt to get over the choking feeling that had 
 suddenly assailed her, upon alluding to her deceased 
 father, " don't you know — no, you don't know, what 
 a happiness it is to a poor, lonely thing, like me, to 
 have some one to take care of her luggage, and pay 
 her fare, and all those things? I know, in this 
 country, women can travel alone, safely — quite so; 
 but it isn't pleasant, for all that, to go into crowds 
 of rough men, without any one. The other evening, 
 at New Haven, for instance, it was quite dark, when 
 we landed, and those hackmen made such a noise, 
 and crowded so — but I felt just as safe, and comfort- 
 able, while sitting waiting for you in the carriage, 
 all the while you were gone back about our trunks ! 
 Oh, you can't realize it, Charley, dear !" and the fair 
 speaker shook her head, with a mournful earnestness, 
 that expressed almost as much sober truthfulness, as 
 appealing femininity. 
 
 But about this morning drive. 
 
 With the trusting confidence for which her sex 
 have such an infinite capacity. Belle yielded at once 
 to the implied wish of her temporary protector, and 
 
41G 
 
 they were soon rolling along, in a light, open car- 
 riage, through deeplj-shadowing woods and across 
 little brooklets which were merrily disporting them- 
 selves under the trees. 
 
 The poor wild-wood bird, so long caged, yet ever 
 longing to be free, carolled and mused by turns, or 
 permitted her joyous nature to gush out in exclama- 
 tions of delight. 
 
 " What delicious air !" she exclaimed. " Keally it 
 exhilarates one, like a cordial. Oh, Charley, dear, 
 look at those flowers ! May I get out for them ? Do 
 let me ! I won't be gone a minute. Just you sit 
 still, and hold your war-steed. Don't be so ceremo- 
 nious as to alight ; I need no assistance." And with 
 a bound the happy creature was on her feet, and in 
 an instant dancing along, to the music of her own 
 glad voice, over the soft grass. 
 
 Too considerate to encroach upon his patience 
 unduly. Belle soon reseated herself beside Chariey, 
 with a lap full of floral treasures. 
 
 " Here are enough for bouquets for both our 
 rooms," said she ; " how fresh and fragrant they are I 
 
 * They have tales of the joyous woods to tell. 
 Of the free blue streams and the glowing sky.' 
 
 Bless God for flowers — and friends /" 
 
 As the artless girl fervently uttered the last words, 
 she turned a pair of sweet blue eyes, into which 
 tears of gratitude and pleasure had suddenly started, 
 upon the face of her companion. What a painful 
 revulsion of feeling was produced by that glance ! 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 41T 
 
 Slie scarcely recognized the face of lier cousin, so 
 completely had gloom and discontent usurped the 
 place of his usual hilarious expression. What could 
 be the matter ? Had slio offended him ! 
 
 Repressing, with quick tact, all manifestations of 
 surprise, though her frame thrilled, as if from a 
 heavy blow, Belle was silent for a while, and then 
 said in a subdued tone that contrasted strangely with 
 her former bird-like glee — " Your horse goes nicely 
 now, Charley, doesn't he ? You seem to have effec- 
 tually conquered him ; but I am sure you must be 
 tired, now, dear cousin, you have been out so long. 
 Had we not better return ?" 
 
 " Why, y(iu have had no ride at all yet, Isabella,'* 
 returned the young man, in a voice that was as start- 
 ling to his sensitive auditor as his altered counte- 
 nance had been. 
 
 " Oh, yes, I have," she quickly answered, endeavor- 
 ing to speak as cheerfully as possible, " I have en- 
 joyed myself so much that I ought to be quite con- 
 tented to go back, and I really think we'd better 
 do so." 
 
 Charley's only response was turning his horse's 
 head homeward. For a while they drove on in 
 silence. Belle's employment of arranging her flowers 
 now wholly mechanical, so engrossing was the 
 tumult in her heart. 
 
 Just as they came in sight of their hotel, the un- 
 ruly animal that had already occasioned his new 
 owner so much trouble, stopped, and stood like 
 v/ooden effigy in the middle of the road. 
 18* 
 
418 THE AMERICAN GENTLEMAN 's GUIDE 
 
 In vain did word and whip appeal to his locomo- 
 tive powers. At length the pent-up wrath that had 
 apparently been gathering fury for the last hour 
 burst forth. 
 
 " Devilish brute ! I never was so shamefully im- 
 posed upon ! I wish to G — I never had set foot in 
 this infernal hole ! There's no company here fit for 
 a decent fellow to associate with. I shall die of 
 stupidity in a week — particularly if I have to drive 
 such a confounded concern as this !" Here followed 
 a volley of mingled blows and curses. 
 
 The terrified witness of this scene sat tremblingly 
 silent, for a time, clinging to the side of the carriage, 
 as if to keep herself quiet. Presently »he said : 
 
 " Perhaps I'd better jump out and run to the 
 house, and send some one out to assist you." 
 
 " You may get out, if you choose," answered her 
 cousin, grufily, " but I want no assistance about the 
 horse. I'll break every bone in his body, but I'll 
 conquer his devilish temper !" 
 
 After another pause. Belle said, " "Well, Charley, 
 if you please, I will walk on. I am sorry you are so 
 annoyed," she added, timidly, carefully averting her 
 pale face from him; "but perhaps this is only a 
 phase, and he may never do so again." 
 
 Her companion broke into a loud, mocking laugh. 
 " "What in thunder do you know about horses, Isa- 
 bella?" 
 
 "Nothing, Charley — nothing in the world," re- 
 turned his cousin, quickly, in the gentlest voice, " I 
 only" 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 419^ 
 
 "Ye-es!" drawled the angry youth, ^'I know — 
 Bome women think their ' ready wit ' will enable 
 them to talk upon any subject ! Get up, now, you 
 rascal, will you ?" 
 
 Belle knew her weakness too well to trust herself 
 to speak, so, drawing her veil closely about her face, 
 and gathering up her shawl and her flowers, she step- 
 ped from the low carriage with assumed composure, 
 and bowing slightly, walked towards the house. 
 
 Meeting a servant, at the foot of the stairs, she 
 said, very quietly, '* Mr. Cunningham will be here 
 in a few minutes with his horse ; I hope some one 
 will be ready to take him," and passed on. This 
 was all she dared to do, in aid of the exasperated 
 youth. 
 
 Once in her own room, it seemed but the work of 
 a moment for the agitated girl to throw off her shawl 
 and bonnet, and transport some light refreshments 
 she had previously prepared, across the passage to 
 her cousin's room, to draw up his lounging chair to 
 the table, and with a few skillful touches to give that 
 air of comfort to the simply-furnished apartment 
 which it had been her daily pleasure to impart to it. 
 
 This self-imposed task achieved, she flew, like a 
 guilty intruder, to her own little asylum, and lock- 
 ing the door, flung herself upon the bed, burying 
 her face in the pillows. 
 
 But though her quick, convulsive sobs were stifled, 
 they shook her slight, sensitive form till it quivered 
 in every nerve, like a delicate exotic suddenly ex- 
 posed to the blasts of a northern winter. 
 
420 THE AMERICAN GENTLEMAn's GUIDE 
 
 By-and-'by a sound roused her from this agony of 
 tears. 
 
 " There is the first dinner-gong," said she, to her- 
 self, starting up, " what shall I do ? Perhaps Char- 
 ley won't like it if I don't go to dinner. My head 
 aches dreadfully. I don't mind that so much, but 
 (looking in the glass) my face is so flushed. I 
 wouldn't for the world vex Charley, I'm sure." 
 With this she began some hasty toilet preparations ; 
 but her hands trembled so violently as to force her 
 to desist. 
 
 Wrapping her shivering form in her shawl, she 
 sat down on a low chair, and again gave way to emo- 
 tions which gradually shaped themselves thus : 
 
 "I am so sorry I came with Charley. He was never 
 anything but kind till we came here. And then I 
 should have, at least, had nothing but pleasant things 
 to remember. But now — I am afraid Charley is 
 ashamed of me ; he looked at my dress so scrutiniz- 
 ingly this morning, when he came to my door. I 
 know I'm not the least fashionable ; but Mrs. Tillou 
 is, and she complimented me on this neglige — it is 
 soiled now, and my pretty slippers, too, walking 
 back through the mud 1 ' Isabella !' How cold and 
 strange it sounded I I am so used to ' cozzy dear,' 
 and have learned to love it so. My poor heart !" 
 pressing both hands upon her side as if to still a 
 severe pang. Then she rose, and creeping slowly 
 along the floor, swallowed some water, and seating 
 herself at the table, drew writing materials towards 
 her. Steadying her hand with great effort, and ever? 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 421 
 
 moment pressing her handkerchief to her eyes, she 
 achieved the following note : 
 
 " Having a little headache to-day, dear Charley, I 
 prefer not to dine, if you will excuse me. I will bo 
 quite ready to meet you in the parlor before tea. 
 " Ever yours, 
 
 " Belle. 
 
 " Tuesday Morning.^'' 
 
 Designing to accompany this with some of the 
 flowers she now remembered, for the first time since 
 her return from her ill-starred morning excursion, 
 Belle hastily re-arranged the prettiest of them in a 
 little bouquet. As she removed an already wither- 
 ed wild-rose from among its companions, a solitary 
 tear fell upon its shrivelled petals. " Perhaps," she 
 murmured mournfully, with a heavy sigh, " I should 
 have made another idol, — perhaps I should soon 
 have learned to love Charley too well^ if this chasten- 
 ing had not come upon me — could he have thought 
 so V As she breathed this query, the small head was 
 suddenly thrown back, like that of a startled gazelle, 
 and a blush so vivid and burning as to pale the pre- 
 vious flush of agitation, flashed over cheek and 
 brow. 
 
 Quickly ringing the bell, and carefully concealing 
 herself from observation, behind the door, when she 
 half-opened it, the servant who answered her sum- 
 mons was requested to hand the note and flowers to 
 Mr. Cunningham, if he was in his room, and if not, 
 
422 
 
 to place them where he would " be sure to see them 
 when he came up." 
 
 " When will I ever learn," said Belle, in a tone of 
 bitter self-reproach, as she re-locked the door, *' not 
 to cling and trust, — not 
 
 ■ " to make idols, and to find them clay !" 
 
 " I have not seen you looking so well since you 
 ca.me here, Miss Cunningham," said a gentleman to 
 Belle, joining her as she was entering the public par- 
 lor that evening. " Do allow me to felicitate you I 
 What a brilliant color ! — You were driving this 
 morning, were you not ? !N'o doubt you are indebted 
 to your cousin for the bright roses in your cheeks I' 
 
 And now, my dear young friends, let me only add, 
 in concluding this lengthened letter, that, had I 
 early acquired the habit of writing^ you would, 
 doubtless, have less occasion to criticise these effu- 
 sions — attempted, for your benefit, at too late a 
 period of life to enable me to render them what I 
 could wish. Use them as 'beacons^ since they cannot 
 serve as models ! 
 
 Adieu ! 
 
 Heney Lunettes 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 423 
 
 LETTER XL 
 
 mental and mokal education. 
 
 My dear !N^ephews : 
 
 Having touched, in our preceding let- 
 ters, upon matters relating to Physical Training, 
 Manner, and the lighter accomplishments that em- 
 bellish existence, we come now to the inner life — to 
 the Education of the Mind and Heart, or Soul of 
 Man. 
 
 Metaphysicians would, I make no doubt, find 
 ample occasion to cavil at the few observations 1 
 shall venture to offer you on these important sub- 
 jects, and, painfully conscious of my total want of skill 
 to treat them in detail, I will only attempt a few des- 
 sultory suggestions, intended rather to impress you 
 with the importance I attach to self-culture^ than to 
 furnish you with full directions regarding it. 
 
 The genius of our National Institutions pre-supposes 
 the truth that education is within the power of all, and 
 that all are capable of availing themselves of its bene- 
 fits. Education, in the highest, truest sense, does 
 not involve the necessity of an elaborate system of 
 scientific training, with an expenditure of time and 
 
4:24 THE AMERICAN GENTLEMAN 's GUIDE 
 
 money entirely beyond the command of any bnt the 
 favored few who make the exception, rather than the 
 rule, in relation to the race in general. 
 
 Happily for the Progress of Humanity, the 
 "will to do, the soul to dare," are never wholly 
 subject to the control of outer circumstance, and 
 here, in our free land, they are comparatively un- 
 trammeled. 
 
 " There are two powers of the human soul," says 
 one of our countrymen, distinguished for a knowledge 
 of Intellectual Science, "which make self-culture 
 possible, the self -searching^ and the self-forming 
 power. We have, first, the faculty of turning the 
 mind on itself; of recalling its past, and watching its 
 present operations ; of learning its various capacities 
 and susceptibilities ; what it can do and bear ; what 
 it can enjoy and suffer ; and of thus learning, in gen- 
 eral, what our nature is, and what it is made for. It 
 is worthy of observation, that we are able to discern 
 not only what we already are, but what we may be- 
 come, to see in ourselves germs and promises of a 
 growth to which no bounds can be set ; to dart 
 beyond what we have actually gained, to the idea of 
 perfection at the end of our being." 
 
 Assuming that to be the most enlightened system 
 of education which tends most effectively to develop 
 all the faculties of our nature, it is impossible, prac- 
 tically, to separate moral and religious from intellec- 
 lectual discipline. \i we possess the responsibility 
 as well as the capacity of self-training — that must be 
 a most imperfect system, one most unjust to our 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 425 
 
 better selves, which cultivates the intellectual pow* 
 ers at the expense of those natural endowments, 
 without which, man were fitter companion for fiends 
 than for higher intelligences ! 
 
 Pursued beyond a certain point, education, estab- 
 lished upon this basis, may not facilitate the acqui- 
 sition of wealth ; and if this were the highest pursuit 
 to which it can be made subservient, effort, beyond 
 that point, were useless. But if we regard the 
 acquirement of money chiefly important as afford- 
 ing the essential means of gratifying the tastes, pro- 
 viding for the necessities, and facilitating the exercise 
 of the moral instincts of our being, we return, at 
 once, to our former position. 
 
 " He^ therefore^ who does what he can to unfold 
 all his jpowers and capacities, especially his nobler 
 ones, so as to become a welPproportioned, vigorous, 
 excellent, ha;ppy being, ^practises self-culi/areP 
 
 Those of you who have enjoyed the advantages of 
 a regular course of intellectual training, will need no 
 suggestion of mine to aid you in mental discipline ; 
 but possibly a few hints on this point may not be 
 wholly useless to others. 
 
 The general dissemination of literature, in forms 
 so cheap as to be within the reach of all, renders 
 reading a natural resource for purposes of amusement 
 as well as instruction. But they who are still so 
 young as to make the acquisition of knowledge the 
 proper business of life, should never indulge them- 
 selves in reading for mere amusement. Never, there- 
 
426 
 
 fore, permit yourselves to pass over words or allu- 
 sions, with the meaniDg of which you are unacquain- 
 ted, in works you are perusing. Go at once to the 
 fountain-head — to a dictionary for unintelligible 
 words, to an encyclopedia for general information, to 
 a classical authority for mythological and other simi- 
 lar facts, etc., etc. You will not read as fast ^ by adopt- 
 ing this plan, but you will soon realize that you are, 
 nevertheless, advancing much more rapidly, in the 
 truest sense. When you have not works of reference 
 at command, adopt the practice of making brief 
 memoranda, as you go along, of such points as re- 
 quire elucidation, and avail yourself of the earliest 
 opportunity of seeking a solution of your doubts. 
 And do not, I beg of you, think this too laborious. 
 The best minds have been trained by such a course. 
 Depend upon it, genius is no equivalent for the 
 advantage ultimately derived from patient perseve- 
 rance in such a course. I remember well, that to the 
 latest year of his life, my old friend, De Witt Clinton, 
 one of the noblest specimens of the race it has been 
 my fortune to know, would spring up, like a boy, 
 despite his stiff knee, when any point of doubt arose, 
 in conversation, upon literary or scientific subjects, 
 and hasten to select a book containing the desired 
 information, from a little cabinet adjoining his usual 
 reception-room. His was a genuine love of learning 
 for its own sake ; and the toil and turmoil of politi- 
 cal life never extinguished his early passion, nor 
 deprived him of a taste for its indulgence. 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 427 
 
 Moralists have always qiiostioned the wisdom of 
 indulging a taste for fictitious literature, even when 
 time has strengthened habit and principle into fixed- 
 ness. The license of the age in which we live, ren- 
 ders futile the elaborate discussion of this question 
 of ethics. But, while permitting yourselves the oc- 
 casional perusal of works of poetry and fiction, do 
 not so far indulge this taste as to stimulate a disrelish 
 for more instructive reading. And, above all, do 
 not permit yourselves to acquire an inclination for 
 the unwholesome stimulus of licentiousness, in this 
 respect. Every man of the world should know 
 something of the belle-lettre literature of his own 
 language, at least, and, as a rule, the more the bet- 
 ter; but, 
 
 " Where ignorance is bliss, 'tis folly to be wise ;" 
 
 and the vile translations from profligate foreign lit- 
 erature, which have, of late years, united with equally 
 immoral productions in our own, to foster a corrupt 
 popular taste, cannot be too carefully avoided by all 
 who would escape moral contagion. 
 
 You will find the practice of noting fine passages, 
 felicitous modes of expression, novel thoughts, etc., 
 as they occur even in lighter literary productions, 
 not unworthy of your attention. It will serve, col- 
 laterally, to assist in the formation of a pure style of 
 conversation and composition, a consideration of no 
 small importance for those whose future career will 
 demand facility in this regard. Carlyle has some- 
 where remarked that, " our public men are all gono 
 
428 
 
 to tongue !" This peculiarity of the times, may, to 
 some extent, have grown out of its new and peculiar 
 social and political necessities. But, whether that 
 be so, or not, since such is the actual state of things, 
 let all new competitors for public distinction seek 
 every means of securing ready success. 
 
 While I would not, without reservation, condemn 
 the perusal of fictitious literature, I think you will 
 need no elaborate argument to convince you of the 
 superior importance of a thorough familiarity with 
 History and general Science, 
 
 Let me, also, commend to your attention, well- 
 chosen Biogrwphy^ as afibrding peculiarly impressive 
 incentives to individual effort, and, often, a consider- 
 able amount of collateral and incidental information. 
 The Life of Johnson, by Boswell, for instance, which, 
 as far as I know, still retains its long-accorded place 
 at the very head of this class of composition (some 
 critic has recorded his wonder that the best biogra- 
 phy in our language should have been written by a 
 fooll) contains a world of information, respecting 
 the many celebrated contemporaries of that great 
 man, the peculiarities of social life in England, at 
 his day, and the general characteristics of elegant 
 literature. So, of Lookhart's Life of Scott, and other 
 records of literarv life. The lives of such men as 
 Shelley, and Coleridge, afford an impressive warn- 
 ing to the young — teaching, better than a professed 
 homily, how little talents, unguided by steadfastness 
 of purpose and principle, avail for usefulness and 
 happiness. The examples of Lord Xelson, Howard, 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 429 
 
 Mungo Park, Kobert Hall, Franklin, and Washing- 
 ton, maj well be studied, in detail, for the lessons 
 they impress upon all. And so, of many of the brave 
 and the good of our race — ^I but name such as pas- 
 singly occur to me. 
 
 Do not permit newspaper and magazine reading 
 to engross too much of your time, lest you gradually 
 fall into a sort of mental dissipation^ which will un- 
 fit you for more methodical literary pursuits. 
 
 A cultivated taste in Literature and Art, as, indeed, 
 in relation to all the embellishments and enjoyments 
 ©f life, is, properly, one of the indications, if not the 
 legitimate result, of thorough mental education. But, 
 while you seek, by every means within your control, 
 to enlarge the sphere of your perceptions, and to 
 elevate your standard of intellectual pleasures, care- 
 fully avoid all semblance of conscious superiority, 
 all dilettanti pretension, all needless technicalities 
 of artistic language. Remember that modesty is al- 
 ways the accompaniment of true merit, and that the 
 smattering of knowledge, which the condition of Art 
 in our infant Kepublic alone enables its most de- 
 voted disciples to acquire, ill justifies display and 
 pretension, in this respect. So, with regard to mat- 
 ters of literary criticism — enjoy your own opinions, 
 and seek to base them upon the true principles of 
 art ; but do not inflict crudities and platitudes upon 
 others, under the impression that, because of recent 
 acquisition to a tyro in years^ and in learning, they 
 are likely to strike mature minds with the charm of 
 novelty 1 Thus, too, with scientific lore. If Sii 
 
430 THE AMERICAN GENTLEMAn's OXTIDE 
 
 Isaac ISTewton onlj^ gathered " pebbles on the shore " 
 of the limitless ocean of knowledge, we may well 
 believe that 
 
 " Wisdom is a pearl, with most success 
 
 Sought in still water." 
 
 Let me add, while we are, incidentally, upon this 
 matter of personal pretension, that to observing per- 
 sons such a manner often indicates internal distrust of 
 one's just claims to one's social position, while, on the 
 contrary, quiet self-possession, ease and simplicity, are 
 equally expressive of self-respect and of an entire cei- 
 tainty of the tacit admission of one's rights by others. 
 Nothing is more underbred than the habit of taking 
 offense, or fancying one's self slighted, on all occa- 
 sions. It betokens either intense egotism, or, as I 
 have said, distrust of your rightful ^position — that 
 you are embittered by struggling with the world — > 
 neither of which suppositions should be betrayed by 
 the bearing of a man of the world. Maintain out- 
 ward serenity, let the torrent rage as it may within, 
 and nsver allow the world to Icnow its power to 
 wound you through your undue sensitiveness ! 
 
 Well has the poet asserted that 
 
 " Truth's a discovery made by travelled min<fo." 
 
 No one who can secure the advantage of seeing life 
 and manners in every varying phase, should fail to 
 add this to the other branches of a polite education. 
 Do not imbibe the impression, however, that merely 
 going abroad is i^(wellmg, in the just sense of the 
 term. 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 431 
 
 '* Oft has it been my lot to mark, 
 A proud, conceited, talking spark, 
 Returning from his finished tour, 
 Grown ten times perter than before. 
 Whatever word you chance to drop. 
 The travelled fool your mouth will stop :— 
 ' Sir, if my judgment you'll allow, 
 I've seen, and sure / ought to know !' 
 So begs you'll pay a due submission, 
 And acquiesce in his decision." 
 
 Send a fool to visit other countries, and he will 
 return — only a " travelled fool !" But give a rightly- 
 constituted man opportunities for thus enriching and 
 expanding his intellectual powers, and he returns to 
 his native land, especially if he be an American, a 
 better citizen, a more enlightened, discriminating 
 companion and friend, and a more liberal, useful, 
 catholic Christian ! 
 
 Some knowledge of modern languages, especially 
 of the French, has now become an essential part of 
 education. The value of this acquisition, even for 
 home use, can scarcely be over-estimated, and with- 
 out a familiarity with colloquial French, a man can 
 hardly hope to pass muster abroad. I will, however, 
 hazard the general observation that, as a rule, it is 
 better to acquire a thorough knowledge of one Icm- 
 guage (and of French, pre-eminently, for practical 
 availability) than a slight acquaintance with several. 
 Few persons, comparatively, in our active, busy 
 land, have leisure, at any period of life, for familiar- 
 izing themselves with the literature of more than 
 one language, besides their own, and to possess the 
 
432 
 
 mere nomenclature of a foreign tongue is but to 
 have the hey to information. There is, of late, a 
 fashion in this matter, which has little else to recom- 
 mend it than that it is the fashion. / and with per- 
 sons of sense and intelligence there should be some 
 more powerful and satisfactory motive for the devo- 
 tion of any considerable portion of " TimCy natures 
 stockP 
 
 Ai^rojpos of this, nothing is more likely to teach a 
 true estimate of the 'oalue of time than that perfection 
 of education pronounced by the philosopher of old 
 to be the knowledge that we Icnow nothing! In 
 other words, they only, who in some sort discern, by 
 the light of education, the vast field that lies unex- 
 plored before them, can have any adequate concep- 
 tion of the care and discrimination with which they 
 should use that treasure of which alone it is ^avi/rtue 
 to he covetous,^ 
 
 Nothing, perhaps, more unmistakably indicates 
 successful self-culture than the habitual exhibition 
 of Tact. It may almost be called another sense, 
 growing out of the proper training of the several 
 faculties of body and mind. And though there is a 
 vast natural difference between persons of similar out- 
 ward circumstances, in this respect, much may be 
 effected by attention and practice, in the acquisition 
 of this invaluable possession. Like self-possession, tact 
 is one of the essential, distinctive characteristics of 
 good-breeding — the legitimate expression of natural 
 refinement, quick perceptions and kindly sympathies. 
 Cultivate it, then, my young friends, in common 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 4:33 
 
 with every elegant embellisliment of the true gentle- 
 man! Do not confound it with dissimulation or 
 hypocrisy, nor yet regard it as the antagonist of 
 truthfulness, self-respect and manly dignity. On 
 the contrary, it is the best safeguard of courtesy, as 
 well as of sensibility. 
 
 Among useful methods of self-discipline, let me 
 instance the benefit resulting from the early adop- 
 tion of a code of private morality^ if you will permit 
 me to coin a phrase, composed of rules and maxims 
 adapted to your own personal needs and peculiari- 
 ties of position and mental constitution. Washing- 
 ton, I remember, adopted this practice, and Mr. 
 Sparks, or some one of his biographers, has preserved 
 the record from oblivion. It is many years since 
 I came across these rules, and I can no longer recall 
 more than the fixed, though general, impression that 
 they embodied much practical wisdom and clearly 
 indicated the patient spirit of self-improvement for 
 which the author was remarkable. I commend 
 them to you as a model. Perhaps the immortal 
 biographer who has now given the world a new life 
 of his great namesake, will afford you the means of 
 satisfying yourselves personally of the correctness of 
 my impressions of them. 
 
 In preparing this code for yourselves, I can give 
 you no better guide than that afforded by the truth 
 expressively conveyed in the following lines : 
 
 " ^Tis wisely great to talk with our past hours. 
 To ask them what report they bore to Heaven^ 
 And how tJiey might have borne more welcoms n«iw," 
 19 
 
434 
 
 That 18 a very imperfect conception of edacation 
 which limits its significance to hnowledge gained 
 from looks. A profound acquaintance with literary 
 lore is often associated with total ignorance of the 
 actual world, of the laws that govern our moral 
 and intellectual being, and with an incapacity to 
 discern the Beautiful, the True, the Good. They 
 only are educated^ who have acquired that self-know- 
 ledge and self-discipline which inspire a disin- 
 terested love of our fellow-heings^ a reverence for 
 Truth — ^in the largest sense of the term — and the 
 2>ower of hdbituallg exalting the higher faculties over 
 the animal propensities of our nature. 
 
 It is only, therefore, when man unites moral disci- 
 pline with intellectual culture, that he can be said to 
 be truly educated ; and the most ambitious student 
 of books should always bear in mind the truth that 
 WiQ free play of the intellect is promoted hy the devel- 
 opment of moral perceptions^ and that mental 
 education, even, does not so much consist in loading 
 the memory with facts, as in strengthening the 
 capacity for independent action — for judging, com- 
 paring, reflecting. 
 
 " The connection between moral and intellectual 
 culture is often overlooked," says a celebrated 
 ethical writer, " and the former sacrificed to the 
 latter. The exaltation of talent, as it is called, above 
 virtue and religion, is the curse of the age. Educa- 
 catiou is now chiefly a stimulus to learning, and 
 thus may acquire power without the principles 
 which alone make it a good. Talent is worshipped. 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 435 
 
 but, if divorced from rectitude, it will prove more 
 of a demon than a god." 
 
 Holding the opinion, then, that a fixed religious 
 belief is the legitimate result of a thorough cultiva- 
 tion of the mental and moral endowments, and that 
 their united and co-equal development constitutes 
 education, you will permit me to impress upon your 
 attention the importance of securing all the aid 
 afforded by the lest lights vouchsafed to us, in the 
 search after Truth. Conscience is a blind guide, 
 until assisted by discriminating teaching, and honest, 
 persevering endeavors at self-enlightenment. For 
 myself, my experience, in this respect, has afforded 
 me no assistance so reliable and efficient as that to 
 be gathered from the Life of Jesus Christy as record- 
 ed by his various biographers, and collected in the 
 ITew Testament. I commend its study, renewedly, 
 to you, not in search of a substantiation of human 
 doctrines, not to determine the accuracy of particu- 
 lar creeds, but to possess yourself of simple, intelli- 
 gible, practicable directions for the wise regulation 
 of your daily life, and those ceaseless efforts at self- 
 advancement which should be the highest purpose of 
 
 " A being breathing thoughtful breath, 
 A creature between life and death V^ 
 
 Accustomed to the standard established by Him 
 who said, " Be ye, therefore, perfect, even as I am 
 perfect," we will not be deterred from the steadfast 
 pursuit of right by the imperfect exhibitions, so fre- 
 
^36 THE AMERICAN GENTLEMAn's GUIDE 
 
 quentlj made, of its efficacy, in the lives of the pro- 
 fessed followers of the wonderful Nazarine. Con- 
 scious of the difficulties, the temptations and the 
 discomfitures that we ourselves encounter, we will 
 learn, not only to discriminate between the imper- 
 fections of the disciple and the perfection of the 
 Master, but to exercise that charity toward others, 
 of which self-examination teaches us the need, in our 
 own case. Thus, the Golden Eule, which so inclu- 
 sively epitomizes the moral code of the Great Teacher, 
 will come to be our guide in determining the path 
 of practical duty, and the course of self- culture, most 
 essential to the security of present happiness, and as 
 a preparative for that eternal state of existence, of 
 which this is but the embryo. 
 
 Thus, making God and conscience — which is the 
 voice of God speaking within us — the arbiter be- 
 tween our better nature and the impulses excited by 
 the grosser faculties, we shall be less tempted by 
 outward influences to lower the abstract standard 
 we originally establish, or to reconcile ourselves to 
 an imperfect conformity to its requisitions. Far less, 
 will we permit ourselves to indulge the delusion that 
 we are not, each of ns, personally obligated, by our 
 moral responsibilities, to develop all the powers with 
 which we are endowed^ to their 'utmost capacity : — 
 
 " They build too low who build below the skies I" 
 
 The most perfect of human beings was also the 
 most humble and self sacrificing, so that they who 
 endeavor to follow his example will not only be de* 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 43^ 
 
 void of self-righteous assumption, but actively de- 
 voted to the good of their fellow-creatures, and, like 
 Him, pityingly sensible of the wants and the woes 
 of humanity. 
 
 That reverence for the spiritual nature of man, as 
 a direct emanation from Deity, which all should 
 cherish, is, also, to be regarded as a part of judicious 
 self-culture. Cultivate an habitual recognition of 
 your celestial attributes, and strive to elevate your 
 whole being into congenial association with the di- 
 vinity within you i^this do for the benefit of others, 
 
 " Be noble ! and the nobleness that lies 
 In other men, sleeping, but never dead, 
 Will rise, in majesty, to meet thine own !" 
 
 With SO exalted an aim as I have proposed for 
 your adoption, you will be slow to tolerate peccadil- 
 loes^ as of little moment, either in a metaphysical or 
 ethical point of view. Dread such tolerance, as sap- 
 ping the foundations of principle ; learn to detect the 
 insidious poison lurking in Burke's celebrated aphor- 
 ism, and in the infidel philosophy that assumes the 
 brightest semblances that genius can invent, the more 
 readily to deceive. Establish fixed principles of 
 benevolence, justice, truthfulness, religious belief, 
 and adhere steadfastly to them, despite the allure- 
 ments of the world, the temptings of ambition, or 
 weariness of self-conflict. 
 
 The Pursuit of Haziness is but concentrated 
 phraseology for the purposes and endeavors of every 
 human being. May you early learn to distinguish 
 
43S 
 
 between \hQ> false and the true^hQtwQQn pleasure and 
 Tiajpj^iness^ early know your duty to yourselves, your 
 country, and your God ! 
 
 I will but add to these crude, but heart-engendered, 
 observations, a few lines, embodying my own senti- 
 ments, and in a form much more impressive than J 
 can command : — 
 
 "We live in deeds, not years ; in thoughts, not breaths; 
 In feelings, not in figures on a dial. 
 "We should count time by heart-throbs. He most lives 
 Who thinks mosty feels the noblest^ acts the best^ 
 
 I have somewhere met with a little bagatelle, 
 Bomewhat like this : — 
 
 Apollo, the god of love, of music, and of elo- 
 quence, weary of the changeless brilliancy of Olym- 
 pus, determined to descend to earth, and to secure 
 maintenance and fame, in the guise of a mortal, by 
 authorship. Accordingly, the incognito divinity es- 
 tablished himself in an attic, after the usual fashion 
 of the sons of genius, and commenced inditing a 
 poem — a long epic poem, plying his pen with the pa- 
 tient industry inspired by necessity, the best stimu- 
 lus of human effort. At length, the task of the god 
 completed, he, with great difficulty, procured the 
 means of offering it to the world in printed form. 
 The Epic of Apollo, the god of Poetry, fell, jpre* 
 doomed, from, the jpress. No commendatory review 
 had been secured, no fashionable publisher endorsed 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 439 
 
 its merits. Disgusted with the pursuit of the wealth 
 and honors of earth, Apollo returned to Olympus, 
 bequeathing to mortals, this advice : — " Would you 
 secure earthly celebrity and riches^ do not atterrvpt in- 
 tellectual and moral culture^ hut invent a pill !" 
 
 Instances of the successful ^pursuit of hnowledge 
 under difficulties frequently present themselves in 
 our contemporaneous history, both in our own coun- 
 try and in foreign lands. Indeed, the history of the 
 human mind goes far toward proving that, not the 
 pampered scions of rank and luxury, but the hardy 
 sons of poverty and toil, have been, most frequently, 
 the benefactors of the race. Well has the poet said : — > 
 
 " The busy world shoves angrily aside 
 The man who stands with arms a-kimbo set, 
 Until occaeion tell him what to do ; 
 And he who waits to have his task marked out, 
 Shall die, and leave his errand unfulfilled." 
 
 The Learned Blacksmith^ as he is popularly called, 
 acquired thirty, or more, different languages, while 
 daily working at his laborious trade. He was accus- 
 tomed to study while taking his meals, and to have 
 an open book placed upon the anvil, while he 
 worked. A celebrated physiological writer, alluding 
 to the habits of this persevering devotee of philology, 
 says, that nothing but his uninterrupted practice of 
 his Yulcan-tasks preserved his health under the vast 
 amount of mental labor he imposed upon himself. 
 
440 
 
 Another of our distinguished countrymen, now a 
 prominent popular orator, is said to have accumu- 
 lated food for future usefulness, while devoting the 
 energies of the outer man to the employment of a 
 wagoner^ amid the grand scenic influences of the 
 majestic Alleghanies. The early life of Franklin, of 
 the " Mill-boy of the Slashes," of Webster, and of 
 many others whose names have become watchwords 
 among us, are, doubtless, familiar to you, as examples 
 in this respect. 
 
 Looking upon the busy active woild around me, — 
 as I sometimes like to do — from behind the screen of 
 my newspaper, seated in the reading-room of a hotel, 
 I became the auditor of the following conversation, 
 between two young men, who were stationed near a 
 window, watching the passing throng of a crowded 
 thoroughfare. 
 
 " By George ! there's Van K ," exclaimed one, 
 
 with unusual animation. 
 
 "Which one, — where?" eagerly interrogated his 
 companion. 
 
 "That's he, this side, with the Byronic nose, and 
 short steps — ^he's great ! What a fellow he is for 
 making money, though !" 
 
 " Does it by his talents, don't he ? — ^nobody like 
 him, in the Bar of this State, for genius, — that's a 
 fact — carries everything through by the force of 
 /" 
 
 " Dev'lish clever, no doubt," assented the other. 
 
TO POLITENESS A.ND FASHION. 441 
 
 " but he need to study, I tell you, like a hero, when 
 he was younger." 
 
 " I^ever heard that of him," answered the other 
 youth, "how the deuce could he? He has always 
 been a man about town—rQdX fashionable fellow — 
 practised always, since he was admitted, and every- 
 body knows no one dines out, and goes to parties 
 
 with more of a rush than Yan K , and he always 
 
 has." 
 
 " That may all be, but my mother, who has known 
 him well for years, was telling me, the other day, 
 that those who were most charmed with his wit, and 
 belle-lettre scholarship, when he first came upon the 
 ^<j^^5, little knew the pains he took to accomplish 
 himself. 'He exhibited the result^ not the machm' 
 ery^ she said, but he did study, and study hard, 
 when other young fellows were asleep, or raising 
 h 1" 
 
 " As for that," interrupted the other, " he always 
 did his full share of all the deviltry going, or I am 
 shrewdly mistaken !" 
 
 " Kobody surpasses him at that, any more than at 
 his regular trade," laughed his companion — " oh, but 
 he's rich ! Jim Williams was telling me (Jim studies 
 
 with S and Yan K — *-) how he put down old 
 
 S the other day. It seems S had been laid 
 
 on the shelf with a tooth-ache — dev'lish bad — ^face 
 all swelled up — old fellow real sick, and no mistake. 
 Well, one morning, after he'd been gone several 
 days, he managed to pull up, and make his appear- 
 ance at the office. It was early— no one there but 
 
 19* 
 
44:2 THE AMERICAN GENTLEMAn's GUIDE 
 
 Yan K and the boys — Jim and the rest of the fel- 
 lows—tearing away at the books and papers. So old 
 
 S dropped down in an arm-chair by the stove, 
 
 and began a hifalutin description of his sorrows and 
 sufferings while he had been sick — quite in the *pile 
 on the agony ' style ! "Well, just as the old boy got 
 fairly warmed up, and was going it smoothly, Yan 
 
 K bawled out : — * Y-a-s ! Mr. S ! will you 
 
 have time, this morning, to look over these papers, 
 in the case of Smith against Brown V Jim said he 
 never saw an old rip so cut down in all his life, and, 
 as soon as he went out, there was a general bust up, 
 at his expense I" 
 
 "How confounded heartless!" exclaimed the elder 
 youth, rising — " by Heaven, I hope a man needn't 
 set aside the common sympathies and decencies of 
 humanity, to secure success in his profession, or in 
 society !" and as he passed me, I caught the flush of 
 manly indignation that mantled his beardless cheek, 
 and the lightning-flash of youthful genius that 
 enkindled his large blue eyes. 
 
 " What are you doing there, sir ?" inquired one of 
 the early Presidents of our Republic, of his nephew, 
 who was standing before an open writing-desk, in his 
 private apartment. 
 
 " Only getting some paper and pencils, sir," re- 
 plied the young man. 
 
 "That stationary, sir, belongs to the Federal Gov- 
 ernment 1" returned the American patriot, impres- 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 44S 
 
 sively, and sternly, and resumed his previous occupa- 
 tion. ^ 
 
 Daniel Webster, in conversation with a familiar 
 friend, said : 
 
 " From the time that, at my mother's feet, or on my 
 father's knees, I first learned to lisp verses from the 
 Sacred Writings, they have been my daily study, 
 and vigilant contemplation. If there be anything in 
 my style or thoughts worthy to be commended, the 
 credit is due to my kind parents, in instilling into 
 my early mind a love for the Scriptures." 
 
 " How long will it take you," inquired J^apoleon, 
 of the young brother-in-law of Junot, " to acquaint 
 yourself with the Coptic language, and be prepared 
 to go to Egypt on a secret service ?" 
 
 "Three months, sire," replied the energetic 
 Frenchman, with scarcely a perceptible pause for 
 consideration. 
 
 " Bien .^" returned the great Captain, " begin at 
 once." And he moved on in his briefly-interrupted 
 walk, through the salon of the beautiful mother of 
 the youth, saying to the Turkish Ambassador, who 
 accompanied his stroll : — " There is such a son as 
 one might expect from such a mother!" 
 
 Three months from that night there left the pri- 
 vate cabinet of E'apoleon, a stripling, of slight form 
 and yet unsunned brow, charged by him- who Jcnew 
 vien 'by intuition^ with a task of fearful risk and re- 
 
444 THE AMERICAN 
 
 sponsibility ; and, on the morrow, he was embarked 
 on the blue waters of the Mediterranean, speeding 
 toward a land where, from the heights of the Pyra- 
 mids, a thousand years would behold his deeds I 
 
 "I swear, I'll cut that woman! I'll never call 
 there again, that I am determined!" cried Paul 
 Duncan, impetuously. 
 
 "But why, brother? Don't judge too hastily," 
 replied his sister, gently. " The whole family have 
 always been so kind to us ; for my part, I think one 
 seldom meets persons of more polished manners, 
 and" 
 
 "Polished manners!" interrupted the irritable 
 man, rudely, " what do you call j)olished manners ? 
 I gave up E himself, just because he is so devil- 
 ish ^m-polished, long ago. He passed me, once or 
 twice, in Wall-street, with his head down, and didn't 
 even bow ! after that I let him run !" 
 
 " He is so engrossed in his philanthropic schemes 
 that, I suppose, he really did not see you," inter 
 posed his sister, mildly. "But the ladies are not 
 responsible for his peccadilloes." 
 
 "No, they cannot answer for their own, to me," 
 retorted the other, with bitterness. " When I went 
 in, last evening, she and her mother were both in 
 the room. The old lady rose, civilly enough, but 
 
 Mrs. R kept her seat, partly behind a table, even 
 
 when I went to her^ and shook hands." 
 
 "Dear brother,'^ expostulated his companion, 
 
TO POLrrENESS AND- FASHION. 445 
 
 " don't you know that Mrs. R is not well ? She 
 
 has not been out in months " 
 
 "What the devil, then, does she make her ap- 
 pearance for, if she can't observe the comnaon pro- 
 prieties of life ?" 
 
 " I doubt whether you would have seen her, had 
 she not been in the room when you entered. Did 
 she remain during the whole time of your call ?" 
 
 " Certainly ; but the old woman slipped out, when 
 some bustle appeared to be going on in the hall, and 
 never made her appearance again, at all, only sending 
 in a servant, just as I was going away, to say that she 
 *hoped to be excused, as her father had just arrived.' " 
 
 "He is very aged, and she always attends upon 
 him herself, when he is there, even to combing his 
 hair," explained the gentler spirit. "I remember 
 admiring her devotion to the old man, who is very 
 peculiar, and somewhat disagreeable to persons gen- 
 erally, when I was staying there a day or two." 
 
 " Well, well ; what has that to do with her treatment 
 of me ? Couldn't she trust him with the rest of the 
 family for a few minutes ? There is a tribe of women 
 always on hand there, besides a retinue of servants." 
 
 " If you will permit me to say so, without offense, 
 Charley," returned the lady, with sudden determina* 
 tion of manner, "I fear you did not display your 
 usual tact on the occasion, and that you, perhaps, 
 took offense at circumstances resulting from the em- 
 barrassment of our friends, rather than from any in- 
 tention to be impolite to you. Ladies are not always 
 equally well, equally self-possessed, equally in com- 
 
446 THE AMEEICA3T GENTLEMAn's GUIDE 
 
 pany-mood, or company-dress. I don't know what 
 might not befall any of us, were we not judged of, 
 by our friends rather by our general manner to 
 them, than by any little peculiarities, of which we 
 may be ourselves wholly unconscious at the time." 
 
 If you are as much impressed as I was, upon first 
 perusing them, with the following sentences from 
 Sir Humphrey Davy's pen, you will require no 
 apology from me, for transcribing them here. 
 
 " 1 envy no quality of mind or intellect in others 
 — not of genius, power, wit, or fancy ; but, if I could 
 choose what would be most delightful, and, I believe, 
 most useful, to me, I should prefer a firm religious 
 helief^ to every other blessing, for it makes life a dis- 
 cipline of goodness, creates new hope, when earthly 
 hopes vanish, and throws over the decay, the de- 
 struction, of existence, the most gorgeous of all light ; 
 awakens life, even in death, and, from decay, calls 
 up beauty and divinity; makes an instrument of 
 torture and shame the ladder of ascent to Paradise ; 
 and, far above all combination of earthly hopes, calls 
 up the most delightful visions — palms and ama- 
 ranths, the gardens of the blessed, the security of 
 everlasting joys, where the sensualist and the skep- 
 tic view only gloom, decay, and annihilation." 
 
 With these sublime words, my dear nephews, 1 
 bid you, affectionately. 
 
 Adieu ! 
 
 Henky Lunettes. 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 447 
 
 LETTER XII. 
 
 choice of companions and feiends — selection of a 
 pursuit in life courtship marriage house- 
 keeping — pecuniary matters, etc. 
 
 My dear ITephews : 
 
 I THINK it was Burke who said that those 
 who desire to improve, should always choose, as 
 companions, persons of more knowledge and virtue 
 .hau themselves. He had, however, the happy 
 faculty of eliciting information from all with whom 
 he came in contact, even as the bee extracts sweet- 
 ness from the most insignificant and unattractive 
 flower. It is said of him, you are aware, that he 
 never took refuge under a projecting eave for five 
 minutes, to escape a shower, with another man, 
 without either giving or receiving instruction. 
 
 His excellent habit in this respect, nevertheless, in 
 no degree invalidated the practical wisdom of the 
 remark I have ascribed to this celebrated statesman. 
 It is not easy to attach too much importance to the 
 choice of Companions and Friends^ especially dur- 
 ing that period of life when we are most susceptible 
 to outward influences. 
 
 Much enjoyment is derived from association witli 
 
44:8 THE AMEKIOAN GENTLEMAn's GUIDE 
 
 those whose tastes, pursuits, and sentiments are 
 similar to our own ; but, in making a selection in 
 this respect, it is better to seek the companionship 
 of persons whose influence will have the effect to 
 elevate rather than to depress our own mental and 
 moral standard. Hence, young pereons will be 
 most improved by the example of those whose 
 greater maturity of years and acquirement give 
 them the advantage of experience. 
 
 Byron and others of the morbid school to which 
 he belonged, or rather, perhaps, which he origi- 
 nated, strove to establish as a truth, the libellous 
 charge that humanity is incapable of true, disinte- 
 rested friendship. Happily for the dignity and 
 healthfulness of the youthful mind, this affected 
 misanthropy, having had its day, is dying the 
 natural death to which error is doomed, and we 
 are again permitted to respect our common nature 
 without wholly renouncing our claims to poetic 
 sensibility ! 
 
 It seems, to my poor perceptions, that there needs 
 no better test of the capacities of our fellow-crea- 
 tures, with regard to the nobler sentiments, than 
 0117' own self -consciousness ! If we know ourselves 
 capable of lofty aspirations, of self-sacrifice for 
 others' good, of rejoicing in the happiness of our 
 friends, of deep, enduring affection for them, by 
 what arrogant right shall we assume ourselves 
 superior to the race to which we belong ? 
 
 As the man who habitually rails at the gentler 
 Bex must, necessarily, have been peculiarly unfor* 
 tunate in his ea/rliest associations with woman, so ho 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 449 
 
 who professes a disbelief in true friendship, may be 
 presumed, not only to have chosen his associates 
 unwisely, but to be himself ill-constituted and 
 ill-disciplined. If 
 
 " Virtue is more than a shade or a sound, 
 
 And man may her voice, in this being, obey," 
 
 then is friendship one of the purest and highest 
 sources of human enjoyment ! 
 
 Eschew, then, the debasing, soul-restraining max- 
 ims of Byron, Rochefoucauld, and their imitators, 
 and seek in communion with the gifted and the 
 good, elevated enjoyment and inspiring incentives 
 to noble purposes and manly achievements. 
 
 But if the old Spanish proverb, ''Show me yowr 
 friends and I will tell you what you a/re,^^ is 
 applicable to the selection of ordinary associates, of 
 how much more significance is it in relation to 
 confidants ! To require such a friend, pre-supposes 
 the need of advice^ and only superiority in age and 
 knowledge of the world and of the human heart, 
 can qualify any one for the responsibility thus 
 assumed. Nothing is moriB frequently volunteered 
 by the inexperienced than advice, while they who 
 properly appreciate its importance are the least 
 likely to give it unasked. 
 
 In connection with the subject of confidences and 
 confidants, ponder well the concentrated wisdom 
 contained in this brief sentence : " Be careful of 
 whom you speak^ to whom you speak^ and how^ and 
 when, and where^ 
 
 If from self-consciousness we draw conclusivo 
 
450 THE AMERICAN GENTLEMAn's GUIDE 
 
 proofs of the elevated powers of our nature^ we also 
 learn, with equal certainty, the need that all have 
 of forbearance, lenity, and forgiveness. They who 
 look for perfection in human companions, will entail 
 upon themselves a life-long solitude of spirit. Some 
 one has prettily said that the fault of a friend is like 
 a flaw in a beautiful china vase ; the defect is reme- 
 diless ; let us overlook it, and dwell only upon what 
 will give us pleasure. 
 
 It is almost useless to attempt to give you any 
 advice with respect to the choice of an occupation in 
 life. I trust, however, that you need no argument to 
 convince you that respectability and happiness unit- 
 edly require, let your pecuniary circumstances be 
 what they may, that you should have such an incen- 
 tive to the due exercise of your powers of body 
 and mind. 
 
 1^0 consideration is, perhaps, more important than 
 that oi following the natural inclination in making 
 this decision, provided outward circumstances ren- 
 der it possible to do so ; and in this country a man 
 may almost always overcome obstacles of this kind, 
 by patient perseverance. 
 
 The impression, formerly so prevalent, that none 
 but the three learned professions, as they are called, 
 require a thorough education, as a prelude, is, I must 
 believe, much less generally entertained, than when 
 I was a young man. And this is as it should be. 
 There can be no human employment that is not faci- 
 litated by the aid of a cultivated, disciplined intel- 
 lect, and our young countrymen, who so frequently 
 make some temporary and lucrative occupation the 
 
T3 POLITENESS AND FASHION. 451 
 
 jstepping-stone to advancement, should always bear 
 this in mind. One day, America, like Venice of 
 old, will be a land of merchant princes — but none 
 will take rank among these self-elevated patricians 
 but they who add the polish, the refinement and the 
 wealth of intellect, to the power derived from exter- 
 nal circumstances. 
 
 The Physical Sciences and the Inventive and Prac- 
 tical Arts are claiming the attention of our times to 
 a degree never before known ; and these afford new 
 and sufiicient avenues for the exercise of talents tend- 
 ing rather to mechanical than to metaphysical exer- 
 tion. 
 
 Eemember, always, that a man may give dignity 
 to any honest employment to which he shall devote 
 his energies — and better so, than to possess no claims 
 to respect except those bestowed by position. As 
 the pursuit of wealth as an end, rather than a means, 
 is not the noblest of human purposes, so mere occupa- 
 tion and external belongings do not determine the 
 real worth of mind or character. 
 
 " I am brother to the Worker, 
 
 And I love his manly look, 
 As I love a thought of beauty, 
 
 Living, star-like, in a book. 
 I am brother to the humblest, 
 
 In the world's red-handed strife, — 
 Those who wield the sword of labor, 
 
 In the battle ranks of life ! 
 
 Never let the worker falter, 
 Nor his cause— for hope is strong ; 
 
452 
 
 He shall live a monarch glorious 
 
 In the people's coming throng. 
 There's a sound comes from the future, 
 
 Like the sound of many lays ; 
 Freedom strikes her harp for toilers^ 
 
 Loud as when the thunder plays I" 
 
 While on this subject, permit me to call your 
 attention to a matter which, though of minor import- 
 ance, is not unworthy of consideration. Men with 
 but little knowledge of the world are apt to hetray 
 thei/r occupation hy their manner a/ad conversation — 
 to smell of the shop^ as it is often, somewhat coarsely, 
 expressed. Thus, an artist will talk habitually of 
 such matters as arrest the peculiar perceptions he 
 has quickened into acuteness by culture, and even 
 use the technicalities of language which, though 
 familiar to him, may be, and probably are, unintel- 
 ligible to persons of general cultivation only. A 
 physician will sometimes go about with a heavy, 
 ivory-headed cane, and a grand, pompous look, 
 which may, perchance, be professional^ but it is not 
 the less absurd, unless as a means of impressing the 
 vulgar ; and he often falls into the impression that 
 any sacrifice to the Graces, or any regard for the 
 weaknesses of humanity, when in a sick-room, are 
 entirely beneath his dignity. Lawyers will use 
 Latin phrases, and legal technicalities, in the soci- 
 ety of ladies, and the gentlemen of the hlach cloth 
 not only carry the pulpit into the drawing-room, but 
 permit themselves to be lionized by devout old wo- 
 men, and sentimental young ones, into the best seat 
 in an apartment, or a carriage, the tit-bits at table, 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 453 
 
 and a sum-total of mawkish man-worship. As I 
 have said, all this savors of ignorance of the world^ 
 as it does of latent egotism, and deficient self-respect. 
 "Note, therefore, the probable effects — when unre- 
 st'-ained by self-scrutinj — of moving in a limited 
 sphere of action^ and always bear in mind that your 
 individual occupations and interests, though of great 
 personal importance, are comparatively insignificant 
 in the consideration of others; that you yourself 
 make, when viewed from a general stand-point, but 
 a single unit of the great mass to whom your inte- 
 rests, purposes, and merits, are matters alike of pro- 
 found indifference and unquestioning ignorance. 
 
 " JN'o man," says Jean Paul, the only one^ as the 
 Germans call him, " can live piously or die righte- 
 ously without a wife ;" and one of the most celebra- 
 ted observers of human nature among our own coun- 
 trymen, has bequeathed us the recorded opinion that 
 an early marriage with an amiable and virtuous wo- 
 man is, next to a firm religious faith, the best safe- 
 guard to the happiness and principles of a young 
 man. 
 
 In our prosperous land, where the means of living 
 are diversified almost equally with the necessities of 
 life, it is far less hazardous to assume the responsi- 
 bilities arising from early marriage, than in other 
 countries. Everything is, in a certain sense, preco- 
 cious here. Extreme youth is no barrier to indepen- 
 dence of effort and position — ^none to self-reliance 
 and success. It may be questioned whether the tax 
 thus prematurely imposed upon the intellect, as well 
 »8 the physique, does not, in some degree, lend, not 
 
^S4: 
 
 only to eventual mediocrity of power, but to quick- 
 ened diminution of the vital energies. 
 
 Hence it is, doubtless, well to adopt the golden 
 mean in regard to every important step in life. And 
 though I would by no means counsel you not to 
 marry until you have accumulated a fortune, I would 
 strenuously advise you to possess yourselves of some- 
 thing like a prospective certainty of maintenance, 
 and of sound knowledge of human nature and of 
 yourself, before so far committing your future hap- 
 piness. 
 
 One prominent cause of the multitude of unhappy 
 unions, I am persuaded, is the ignorance of their 
 own true characters with which young persons are 
 so frequently united. Wholly immature in body 
 and mind, when they commence married life, as they 
 develop, under the influence of time and circum- 
 stance, they awaken to the discovery of an irrecon- 
 cilable difference, not only in taste, sentiment, and 
 opinion, but, what is worse, in principle. This is 
 one extreme. On the contrary, the marriage of per- 
 sons of decided character, before habit has rendered 
 it diJ05cult to mould themselves into conformity with 
 the peculiarities from which none are exempt, is de- 
 sirable. The sooner those who are to tread the path 
 of life side by side, learn the assimilation that shall 
 render the way smoother and easier to both, the 
 greater will be their share of earthly contentment ; 
 and this will be most readily achieved, no doubt, 
 while youthful pliancy and adaptability still exist. 
 
 Every discriminating, self-informed man, should 
 be the best judge of the essential requisites for 
 
TO POLITENE88 AND FASHION. 455 
 
 domestic liappiness, in his individual case. Such an 
 one will not need t.o be reminded that all abstract or 
 generally-applicable rules must needs be modified, in 
 many instances, for personal usefulness. But no one 
 will question the desirableness of healthy good temjpery 
 and education^ in the companion of domestic life. 
 
 By education, I do not mean an acquaintance with 
 all, or even with any one, of what are termed accom- 
 piishments. A woman may be well-informed, and 
 self-disciplined, to a degree that will render her an 
 admirable wife for a man of sense, without being 
 able to speak any but her vernacular tongue, or play 
 upon any instrument, save that har^ of a thousand 
 strings — the Human Heart ! 
 
 Do not understand me as undervaluing the grace- 
 ful embellishments of social and domestic life, as 
 presented by the lovelier part of creation. I wish 
 only to express, in my plain, blunt way, the convic- 
 tion that the most elegant and varied accomplish- 
 ments are a very poor equivalent iov poverty of th6 
 head and hearty in the woman who is to become the 
 friend and counsellor to whom you will look for 
 enduring, discriminating affection and sympathy, as 
 well when the trials, the cares, and the sorrows of 
 mortal existence shall lower heavily over you, as 
 while you mutually dance along amid the flowers 
 and the sunshine of youth. 
 
 A career of fashionable idleness, irresponsibility, 
 and dissipation, is not a desirable prelude to the sys- 
 tematic routine of quiet duties essential to the home- 
 happiness of a man of moderate resources and 
 
456 THE AMERICAN GENTLEMAn's GXJTDTH 
 
 retired habits. It may be questioned whether a 
 woman who has been long accustomed to the adula- 
 tion and the excitement of a crowd, will be content 
 to find enjoyment, sufficient and enduring, in the 
 simple pleasures Vhich alone will be at her com- 
 mand, thus circumstanced. 
 
 But, while even the incentives afforded by all the 
 affection of which such an ephemeral being is 
 capable, will render conformity to this new position 
 difficult of attainment, she who is early accustomed 
 to look thoughtfully upon life as beautiful and 
 bright indeed, but as involving serious responsibili- 
 ties and solemn obligations, will bring to a union 
 with one of similar perceptions and principles, a 
 sense of right and duty, which, if strengthened by a 
 commingling of hearts, will make it no discourag- 
 ing task to her to begin with her husband wh^ere he 
 begins. Such an one will be content to tread on at 
 an even pace beside him, through the roughness that 
 may beset his progress, cheerfully encountering 
 obstacles, resolute to conquer or endure, as the case 
 may be ; and ever fully imbued with that patient, 
 hopeful, loving spirit, whose motto is "bear one 
 another's burdens." 
 
 You will think it more consistent with the caution 
 of an old man, than the ardor natural to a young one, 
 that I should advise you to pay proper respect to 
 the claims of the relations or guardians of any lady 
 to whom you wish to pay your addresses. I will, 
 nevertheless, venture to assert that, for many reasons, 
 you will, in after life, have reason to congratulate 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FAfeHION. 457 
 
 yourself upon pursuing a manly, open, honorable 
 course in relation to every feature of this important 
 era in your career. 
 
 A friendship with a woman considerably older 
 than himself (if she be married, it will be all the bet- 
 ter) and especially if he have not older sisters, or is 
 separated from them, is of incalculable advantage to 
 a young man, when based upon true principles of 
 thought and action, — not only in- relation to subjects 
 especially pertaining to affairs of the heart, but 
 respecting a thousand nameless practical matters, as 
 well as of mental culture, taste, sentiment, and con- 
 ventional proprieties. Such a female friend — ma- 
 tured by the advantages of nature and circumstances 
 — will secure you present enjoyment of an elevated 
 character, together with constant benefit and im- 
 provement, and expect from you, in return for the 
 great good she renders you, only those graceful cour- 
 tesies and attentions which a man of true good-breed- 
 ing always regards as equally obligatory and agree- 
 able. 
 
 Let there be, however, a certain gravity mingled 
 with the manifestations of regard you exhibit 
 towards all married women, the dominance of respect 
 in your manner towards them, and never permit any 
 consideration to induce you to forget the established 
 right of every husband to sanction or not, at his 
 pleasure, the most abstractly unexceptionable friend- 
 ship between his wife and another man. 
 
 Every man with a nice sense of honor, will indi- 
 cate, by his prevailing bearing and language towards 
 
 20 
 
458 
 
 women a felt distinction between the intentions of 
 friendship, and those of a suitor or lover. And while 
 he observes towards all women, and under all cir- 
 cumstances, the respectful courtesy due to them, he 
 will not hesitate to make his purpose intelligible, 
 where he has conceived sufficient esteem to engender 
 matrimonial intentions. Proper self-respect, as well 
 as the consideration due to a lady and her friends, 
 demands this. 
 
 I repeat, that no degree of devotion to one, 
 excuses incivility to other female acquaintances in 
 society; and I will add that the most acceptable 
 attentions to a woman of sense and delicacy, are 
 not those that render her generally conspicuous, but 
 such as express an ever-present remembrance of 
 her comfort and a quick discernment of her real 
 feelings and wishes. 
 
 So in the matter of presents, and similar expres- 
 sions of politeness, good taste will dictate no lavish 
 expenditure, unwarranted by pecuniary resources, 
 and inconsistent with the general surroundings of 
 either party, but rather a prevailing harmony that 
 will be really a juster tribute to the object of your 
 regard, as well as a more creditable proof of your 
 own tact and judgment. All compliments, whether 
 thus expressed, or by word of mouth, should be 
 characterized by delicate discrimination and puncti- 
 lious respect. It is said that women judge of 
 character by details : certain it is that what may 
 seem trifles to us, often sensibly influence their 
 opinions of men. Their perceptions are so keen, 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 459 
 
 their sensibilities so acute, in comparison with ours, 
 that we would err materially in estimating them by 
 the same gauge we apply to each other, and thus 
 the mysteries of the female heart will always remain 
 in a degree insoluble, even to the acutest masculine 
 penetration. 
 
 But though the nicest shades of sentiment and 
 feeling may escape our coarser perceptions, we need 
 no unusual discernment to perceive the effects of 
 kindness, gentleness, and forbearance in our domes- 
 tic relations. " I cannot much esteem the man," 
 Eowland Hill remarked, "whose wife, children, and 
 servants, and even the cat and dog, are not sensibly 
 happier for his presence." Depend upon it, no 
 fabled Genii could confer on you a talisman so 
 effective as the power bestowed by the enshrinement 
 in your heart of the Law of Kindness. In proportion 
 to the delicacy of woman's organization is her sus- 
 ceptibility to such influence, and he who carelessly 
 outrages the exquisite sensibilities that make the 
 peculiar charm of her nature, will too often learn, 
 when the lesson brings with it only the bitterness 
 of experience, 
 
 " how light a cause 
 
 May move dissension between hearts that love." 
 
 Shun, then, as you would the introduction into your 
 physical system of an insidious but irradicablo 
 poison, 
 
 " The first slight swerving of the hearty 
 That words are powerless to express /** 
 
 But while you seek to illustrate your constant 
 
460 
 
 remembrance that you have, by the act of marriage, 
 "bound yourself to be good-humored, affable, dis- 
 creet, forgiving, patient, and joyful, with respect to 
 frailties and imperfections to the end of life," bear in 
 mind, also, that your influence over another imposes 
 duties of various kinds upon you, and that you 
 should use that influence with far-sighted wisdom, 
 to produce the greatest ultimate good. Thus you 
 will be convinced that it is the truest kindness to 
 minister to the intellect and the affections of woman, 
 rather than to her vanity, and that in proportion as 
 you assist her to exalt her 'higher nature into 
 dominance, will you be rewarded by a spirit-union 
 commensurate to the most exalted necessities of 
 your own. 
 
 I have known men, in my time, who seemed to 
 have a fixed belief that all manifestations of the 
 gentler instincts of humanity are unworthy of 'the 
 dignity of manhood, and who, by habitually repress- 
 ing all exhibitions of natural emotion, had appa- 
 rently succeeded in steeling their hearts, as well 
 against all softening external impressions as to the 
 inspiration of the " still, sad music of " their bet- 
 ter selves. All elevated emotions, whether of an 
 aftectionate or religious character, are too sacred for 
 general observance ; " When thou prayest, enter into 
 thy closet and shut the door^'' was the direction of 
 our great Teacher, and so with the religion of the 
 heart (if you will permit me the phrase), it would 
 be desecrated, were it possible — which from its very 
 nature it is not — to parade its outward tokens to 
 indifferent eyes. And yet I retui-n to a prior stand 
 
rO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 4fil 
 
 point and insist that there is a middle-ground, even 
 here, the juste milieuy as the French say. — Apropos 
 — the ancient Homans used the same word to desig- 
 nate family affection and jpiety. 
 
 Intimately connected with the happiness of domes- 
 tic life is the due consideration oi pecuniary affairs. 
 
 But, before we proceed to their discussion, let me, 
 as long a somewhat scrutinizing observer of the 
 varying phases of social life, in our own country 
 especially, enter my earnest protest against the prac- 
 tice so commonly adopted by newly-married persons, 
 of hoarding^ in place of at once establishing foi 
 themselves the distinctive and ennobling preroga 
 lives of HOME. Language and time would alike fail 
 me in an endeavor to set forth the manifold evils 
 inevitably growing out of this fashionable system. 
 Take the advice of an old man, who has tested theo- 
 ries by prolonged experience, and at once establish 
 your Penates within four walls, and under a roof 
 that will, at times, exclude all who are not properly 
 denizens of your household, upon assuming the 
 rights and obligations of married life. Do not be 
 deterred from this step by the conviction that you 
 cannot shrine your home-deities upon pedestals of 
 marble. Cover their hases with flowers — God's free 
 gift to all — and the plainest support will suffice for 
 them, if it be 'hw.tfirm. 
 
 With right views of the true aims and enjoyments 
 of life, it will be no impossible achievement to esta- 
 blish your household appointments within the limits 
 of your income, whatever that may be, and to enter- 
 tain the conviction that the duty of providing for 
 
462 THE AMERICAN GENTLEMAn's GUIDE 
 
 possible, if not probable, future contingencies, is im- 
 perative with those who have assumed conjugal and 
 paternal responsibilities. 
 
 Firm adherence to such a system of living will 
 bring with it a thousand collateral pleasures and 
 privileges, and secure the only true independence. 
 Nothing is more unworthy than the sacrifice of 
 genuine hospitality, taste, and refinement, to the 
 requisitions of mere fashion, in such arrangements ; 
 no thraldom so degrading as that imposed by the 
 union of poverty and false pride. What latent ego- 
 tism, too, in the pre-supposed idea that the world at 
 large takes careful cognizance of the individualizing 
 specialities of any man, save when he trenches on 
 the reserved rights of others. 
 
 True self-respect, then, as well as enlarged percep- 
 tions of real life, will dictate a judicious adjustment 
 of means to desired results, and teach the willing 
 adoption of safe moderation in all. 
 
 Happily, comfort and refinement may be secured 
 without ruinous expenditure, even by the most mo- 
 dest beginners in housekeeping. Industry, ingenuity 
 and taste, will lend embellishment to the simplest 
 home, and the young, at least, can well afford to dis- 
 pense with enervating luxury and pretentious dis- 
 play. 
 
 With due deference to individual taste, I would 
 commend the cultivation and gratification of a love 
 of hoohs and works of art^ in preference to the pur- 
 chase of costly furniture, mirrors, and the like. 
 Fine prints (which are preferable to indifferent paint- 
 ings) are now within obtainable reach, by many who 
 
TO POLH'ENESS AND FASHION. 463 
 
 permit themselves few indulgences, comparatively, 
 and everything having a tendency to foster the 
 sesthetical perceptions and enjoyments of children, 
 and to exalt these gratifications into habitual supre- 
 macy over the grosser pleasures of sense, or the exhi- 
 bitions of vanity, is worthy of regard. And as no 
 avoidable demands of the outer life should be per- 
 mitted to diminish the resources of either the heart 
 or the mind, well-selected hooks will take high rank 
 among the belongings of a well-appointed house. 
 
 To sum up all, my dear friends, if you aim at 
 rational happiness, let there be what is artistically 
 termed keeping in your whole system of life. Let 
 your style of dress, your mode of housekeeping, and 
 entertaining, your relaxations, amusements, occupa- 
 tions, and resources, be harmoniously combined. 
 
 "Where and how is the most charming of Jew- 
 esses ?" 1 asked one morning of an old friend, upon 
 whom I had been making an unreasonably early call, 
 rising to go. 
 
 " Here, sir, and very well," responded a cheerful 
 voice from an adjoining room. " Will you not come 
 in a moment ?" 
 
 The smiling " home-mother" opened wide the half- 
 open door through which my queries had been an- 
 swered, and seconded her daughter's invitation. 
 
 There sat my fair young friend, with a small tabla 
 before her, covered with sewing materials, and a 
 huge overcoat upon her lap. She was in a simple, 
 
464 THE AMERICAN GENTI.EMAn's QXJTDE 
 
 neat morning-dress, and plying the needle with great 
 industry. She apologized for not rising to receive 
 me, but not for continuing her occupation after I 
 seated myself. 
 
 " As busily engaged as ever, I see," said I. 
 
 " Hather more so than usual, just now. Fred has 
 come home in a very dilapidated condition." 
 
 " And you are repairing him. But what are you 
 doing with that huge, bearish-looking coat ? It's as 
 much as you can do to lift it, I should judge." 
 
 " Oh, I've been putting in new front-facings and 
 sleeve-linings, and fixing it up a little," returned 
 she. " But, Colonel, do tell me, have you read Ma- 
 caulay's second volume ?" 
 
 I replied that I had dipped into it, and added : 
 " But, before we discuss Macaulay, I want you to 
 tell me how you learned to be so accomplished a tai- 
 loress ?" 
 
 " Rebecca can do anything she wishes," said her 
 mother, in a soft, gentle voice, " the heart is a 
 good teaeherP 
 
 " Thank you, mother," rejoined the sweet girl, 
 "Colonel Lunettes will make allowance for youi 
 natural partiality." 
 
 " I would, were it necessary, my dear," I answered, 
 " but I can decide for myself in your case." 
 
 A bow, a blush, and a pleasant laugh responded, 
 and, rising, she deposited the heavy garment she 
 had been repairing, upon the arm of a chair, and 
 immediately reseating herself, placed a large basket 
 full of woollen stockings, at her side, threaded a stout 
 alderman-like-looking darning needle with thick 
 
rO rOLITENESS AND FASHION. 465 
 
 yarn, and began to mend a formidable bole in ono 
 of tbe socks. Her brother is an engineer, and I 
 divined at a glance, that those strong, warm things 
 were, like the blanket-coat, part of his outfit for a 
 campaign in the swamps. 
 
 " I am delighted . with Macaulay's elaborate 
 sketches of individuals," resumed the busy seam- 
 stress, drawing out her long needle and thread, and 
 returning it with the speed and accuracy of nicely- 
 adjusted machinery ; " do you recollect his portraiture 
 of the Trimmer ^" 
 
 ^* It is very fine," I answered, like everything else 
 Macaulay has written. "Nothing, however, has 
 impressed me more, thus far, in his history, than his 
 description of the condition of the clergy of the Estab- 
 lished Church, in the rural districts, during the 
 reign of James, and later even." 
 
 "I, too, was exceedingly interested in it," replied 
 Rebecca. " And the more, that I was reminded of 
 the fate of the daughters of English country curates, 
 even at this day ; of ' gentle blude,' many times, bora 
 and educated ladies, they are subjected, frequently, 
 through life, to toil and suffering that would excuse 
 their envying the fate of a mere kitchen-drudge !" 
 
 "They are, usually, governesses for life, and never 
 marry," continued I. 
 
 "ISTever marry— though they are so educated and 
 disciplined, as to be peculiarly well-fitted for the 
 fulfillment of woman's dearest and highest destiny ! 
 Thank God ! I was born where such social thraldom, 
 such hateful monstrosities, are not !" And the face 
 
 20* 
 
46« 
 
 tliat turned its glance upward, for an instant, with 
 those last fervent words, was overspread with a glow 
 bright as the crimson hue of sunset. 
 
 But, though my friend Eebecca, was the last 
 woman in the world to 
 
 "Die of a rose, in aromatic pain," 
 
 she was a perfect Sybarite, in some respects, as I will 
 convince you. 
 
 Entering her mother's tasteful, pretty drawing- 
 room, a few evenings after this conversation, I found 
 the charming " Jewess," as I sometimes called her, 
 in allusion to Scott's celebrated heroine, reading by 
 the light of an astral lamp. She was elegantly, and, 
 I suppose fashionably, dressed, and reclining in a 
 large, luxurious-looking, stuffed chair, with her 
 daintily-slippered feet, half buried in a soft crimson 
 cushion. In short, she was the very impersonation 
 of the " unbought grace " of one of I^ature's queens. 
 Had I been younger, by some fifty years, I should 
 have been tempted, beyond a doubt, to do oriental 
 homage to so much loveliness. 
 
 " By the way, Rebecca," said I, after a few min- 
 utes' chat with my hostess, "I must tell you of a 
 witticism you elicited, this morning, from one of 
 your admirers!" 
 
 " One of my admirers ! Who, pray ?" 
 
 " Guess ! "Well, I won't tantalize you ! — Howard 
 Parker!" 
 
 " You tell me something, Colonel ! I am not en- 
 titled to enter Mr. Parker on my list of friends " 
 
TO POLITENESS AISD FASHION. 467 
 
 " What, what ! that to me, my dear ? I have a 
 great mind^to punish you, by not telling you what 
 he said." 
 
 "As you please, Colonel Lunettes!" with a co- 
 quettish toss of her long ringlets. 
 
 " Please, tell me^ Colonel !" interposed her moth- 
 er, smilingly ; " don't mind Eebecca's nonsense — tell 
 me!" 
 
 "In a whisper?" I inquired, laughing, and glanc- 
 ind at the "Jewess." "I hardly dare to venture 
 that! "Well ! meeting Howard, who is a great favor- 
 ite of mine, in the street, this morning, he told me 
 he was coming here, to call. 'Steel your heart, 
 then,' said I — ' Or she will steal it P he answered, as 
 quick as thought." 
 
 " Quite a jeu d^ esprit P^ exclaimed Eebecca, 
 laughing gaily. " But, Colonel, Mr. Parker may be 
 witty, accomplished, and intellectual, but he is not a 
 gentleman .'" 
 
 " My daughter, you are severe," said her mother, 
 deprecatingly. 
 
 " I don't mean to be, mother ; but " — 
 
 " From what do you draw such a sweeping infer- 
 ence, my child ?" I inquired. 
 
 " From trifles, dear sir, I admit ; but 
 
 * trifles make the sum of human things I* 
 
 and slight peculiarities often indicate character. 
 For instance, Mr. Parker keeps his hat on, when he 
 is talking to ladies, and neglects his teeth and hair — 
 you needn't laugh, mamma! Yesterday morning, 
 he joined me in the street, and came home with me. 
 
468 THE AMERICAN GENTLEMAn's GUmE 
 
 or, nearly home ; for he stopped short, a little way 
 from the house, let me cross a great mud-puddle, as 
 well as I could, alone, and open the gate tor myself, 
 though I had my hands full of things. It's true, he 
 had the grace to color a little, when I said, signifi- 
 cantly, as he bade me good morning, that I was glad 
 I had crossed the Slough of Despond, without acci- 
 dent.'' 
 
 " That showed that a sensible woman could correct 
 his faults," I remarked. 
 
 "I don't know about that," replied my hostess. 
 " Such things, as Rebecca says, indicate character / 
 and I would not advise any young lady to marry a 
 man, with the expectation of reforming him." 
 
 " Not of a cardinal vice, certainly," said I ; " but 
 there are " — 
 
 Here a servant interrupted me with — " Mr. Par- 
 ker's compliments. Miss," and offered my fastidious 
 young friend a large parcel, wrapped in a wet, soiled 
 newspaper, and tied with dirty red tape. 
 
 " Ugh !" exclaimed the Sybarite, recoiling, with 
 unrepressed disgust. " "What is it, Betty ? It can't 
 be for me !" 
 
 " It is^ Miss, an' no mistake — the boy said it got 
 wet in the rain, widout, as he was bringing it, an' 
 no umberrellar wid him." 
 
 "Will you just take it into the hall, and take off 
 the paper, Biddy? Be careful not to let it get 
 dirty and wet, inside, will you?" — With studied 
 nonchalance. 
 
 Presently Biddy laid down a large, handsomely- 
 bound volume, and a note, before the young lady 
 
TO politeness*'and fashion. 460 
 
 "It is a copy of Macaulay's *Lays of Ancient 
 Rome,' " saM she, skimming over the note. " Mr, 
 Parker was alluding to some passage in one of the 
 poems, this morning. He says I will find it marked 
 and begs me to accept the book, as a philopoena — oh, 
 here are the lines — I thought them very fine as he 
 recited them. Shall I read them, mamma? And 
 you, sir, will you hear them ?" 
 
 *' ' Then none was for a party ; 
 
 Then all were for the state ; 
 Then the great man helped the poor, 
 
 And the poor man loved the great ; 
 Then lands were fairly portioned ; 
 
 Then spoils were fairly sold : 
 The Romans were like brothers, 
 
 In the brave days of old.' " 
 
 The enthusiasm with which the appreciatmg 
 reader read this spirited passage, did not prevent my 
 observing that she held her handkerchief closely 
 pressed upon the back of the exquisite antique bind- 
 ing of the volume, in the hope, as I inferred, of dry- 
 ing the stain of wet which I noticed, at once attract- 
 ed her attention when she took up the gift. The 
 open note, as it lay upon the table, disclosed a torn, 
 ragged edge, as if it had been carelessly severed 
 from a sheet of foolscap. 
 
 Whatever her reflections, the young lady had too 
 much instinctive delicacy to comment upon these 
 peccadilloes, and so, of course, I could institute no 
 defense of my friend. I, therefore, tacked,^ as a 
 eailor would say. 
 
4:70 THE AMKIilCAN GENTLEMAn's GUIDE 
 
 " Howard's a noble fellow," said I, " in spite of 
 his little oddities, but he has one fault, unfortunately, 
 which I fear will prevent his winning much favor 
 with the ladies." 
 
 " What is that?" inquired my young auditor, in a 
 tone of seeming indifference, but with a heightened 
 color, and an eager glance. 
 
 "He \9> poor P^ 
 
 " Do you mean that he lives ly his wits, as the 
 phrase is ?" asked my hostess. 
 
 " By no means I simply this : — Parker began the 
 world without a dollar, and has had, thus far, to 
 'paddle his own canoe,' as he expresses it, against 
 wind and tide." 
 
 "That is quite the best thing I ever knew of 
 him !" exclaimed Rebecca, with animation, " It does 
 him great credit, in my estimation ! But, Colonel, I 
 cannot agree with you in thinking Mr. Parker, 
 poor .^" 
 
 "ISTo?" 
 
 " No, indeed ! in my regard, no man in our coun- 
 try is poor, who possesses health, education, and an 
 unblemished reputation /" 
 
 In the library of the only representative of the 
 British government in this country — and he was the 
 lineal representative, as well, of one of the oldest, 
 wealthiest and most aristocratic of noble English 
 families — whose guest I remember to have been, I 
 found great numbers of books, which he had brought 
 
TO POLITENESS AND lASHION. 4:71 
 
 witli liim from home, but they were arranged upon 
 simple, unpainted pine shelves, put up for con- 
 venience, while the owner should remain at Wash- 
 ington. He brought his books, because he wanted 
 them for constant use — but, though accustomed to 
 the utmost luxuriousness of appointment at home, 
 he did not dream of bringing furniture across the 
 Atlantic, or of apologizing for the absence of more 
 than was demanded by necessity in his temporary 
 residence. 
 
 I remember, too, to have heard it said that one of 
 the recent governors of the Empire State had not a 
 eingle article of mahogany furniture in his house at 
 Albany ; and yet, nobody complained of any want 
 of hospitality or courtesy on his part, while making 
 this discovery. The simple fact was, that, being 
 without private fortune, and the salary of his office 
 insufficient for such expenditures, he could not afford 
 it — and no man, I believe, is bound to run in debt, 
 to gratify either the expectations or the vanity of 
 his political constituents. 
 
 As a contrast to these anecdotes, how does the 
 following incident impress you ? 
 
 Walking down Broadway, in New York, one 
 bright morning with a distinguished American 
 statesman, he suddenly came to a full halt before 
 a show-window in which glittered, among minor 
 matters, a superb candelabra^ in all the glory of 
 gilding and pendants. 
 
 " That's a very handsome affair. Lunettes," said 
 my companion ; '' let us step in here a moment." 
 
472 
 
 "W~e entered accordingly. A salesman came for- 
 ward. 
 
 "What is the price of that candelabra, in tho 
 window ?" inquired the statesman. 
 
 " Six hundred dollars," replied the young man. 
 
 " Pack it up and send it to M ," replied my 
 
 friend, turning to go. 
 
 "And the bill, sir?" 
 
 " You may send the bill to me — to D W , 
 
 at Washington." 
 
 I happened to know that the great man had, only 
 within a day or two, been released, by the genero- 
 sity of several of his personal friends, from an em-, 
 bargo upon his movements that would otherwise 
 have prevented his eloquent thunder from being 
 heard in the National Senate I 
 
 Tlie massive head and stately bearing of John 
 Marshall always rise before my mind's eye, when I 
 recall this characteristic illustration of his native 
 manliness : 
 
 The Chief Justice was in the habit of going to 
 market himself, and carrying home his purchases. 
 He might frequently be seen at sunrise, with poultry 
 in one hand and vegetables in the other. 
 
 On one of these occasions, a young N'ortherner, 
 who had recently removed to Richmond, and thus 
 become a fellow-townsraan of the great Yirginian, 
 was heard loudly complaining that no one could bo 
 found to carry home his turkey. 
 
TO P0LITENE6S AND FASHION". ^73 
 
 ThOt Chief Justice, who was unknown to the new- 
 comer, advancing, inquired where the stranger lived 
 and on being informed, said, very quietly — " That is 
 on my way ; I will take it for you ;" and receiving 
 the turkey, walked briskly away. 
 
 When he reached the house that had been desig- 
 nated, Marshall awaited the arrival of the owner, and 
 delivered up his burden. 
 
 " What shall I pay you ?" inquired the youth. 
 
 "ISTothing, whatever," replied the biographer of 
 Washington, " it was all in my way, and not the 
 slightest trouble — ^you are welcome ;" and he pur- 
 sued his course. 
 
 " Who is that polite old man ?" asked the young 
 stranger of a by-stander. 
 
 He was answered — " That is John Marshall^ 
 Chief Justice of the United States ^ 
 
 I well remember, too, how often I used to join my 
 old friend. Chief Justice Spencer, of ITew York, as 
 he climbed the long hill leading to his residence, at 
 Albany, with a load of poultry in his hand. And 1 
 dare say his great-hearted brother-in-law, De Witt 
 Clinton, often did the same thing. Certain I am, 
 that he was the most unostentatious of human beings, 
 as simple and natural as a boy, to the end of his 
 days. 
 
 I have the vanity to believe that you will not have 
 forgotten the little sketch I gave you, in a previous 
 letter, of my interesting young friend Julia Peters, 
 Not long after my brief acquaintance with her — that 
 
474 
 
 is, within a year — I received a newspaper* neatly 
 inclosed, and sealed with a fanciful device, in pret- 
 tily-tinted wax, which being interpreted for me by 
 a fair adept in such matters, was said to read— 
 " Love, or Cupid, carrying a budget to you from me." 
 The following paragraph was carefully marked : 
 
 " Married : — In the Church of the Holy Inno- 
 cents, in this village, on Tuesday, May 12th, by the 
 
 Hev. B y , St. John Benton and Julia A. 
 
 Peters, daughter of the late Fitz-James Peters, Esq., 
 ofPrinceton, K J." 
 
 Then followed this sentence, in large characters : 
 "The Pkintek and the 'carrier' acknowledge 
 a bountiful receipt of superb wedding-cake.- — 
 May every hlessing attend the Ka]pjpy jpair /" 
 
 I, too, had my share of the wedding-cake, accom- 
 panied by very tasteful, simple cards, as well as a 
 previous invitation to the wedding, written jointly by 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Y , and in terms most flatteringly 
 
 cordial, and complimentary. Mrs. Y and I had, 
 
 by this time, exchanged letters more than once. I 
 will give you, as a specimen of the agreeable epis- 
 tolary style of my fair friend, the following commu- 
 nication, which reached me some two or three 
 months after the marriage of her sister. 
 
 "Rectory, , Aug. 22dy . 
 
 • * Dear Col. Lunettes : — 
 
 " I avail myself of my very first leisure 
 to comply with the request contained in your most 
 kind and acceptable letter of last week. Whether 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 4^5 
 
 your amiable politeness does not overrate my capa- 
 city to write a ' true woman's letter — full of little 
 significant details and particularities,' remains to be 
 seen. I will do my best, at least, and ' naugbt exte- 
 nuate, nor set down aught in malice.' 
 
 " I hardly know where to begin, in answer to your 
 query about the * possibility of the most economical 
 young people managing to live on so small an 
 income.' The truth is, Julia and I, thanks to a judi- 
 cious mother, -wqyg practically educated^ which makes 
 all the difference in the world in a woman's capacity 
 to ' make the worse appear the better reason ' in 
 matters of domestic management. The house they 
 live in is their own. Mr. Benton, fortunately, pos- 
 sessed the means of fully paying for it (he was 
 entirely frank with Mr. Y about all these mat- 
 ters, from the beginning) and Julia was able to fur- 
 nish it simply, though comfortably. It is a small 
 establishment, to be sure. — a little house and a little 
 garden, but it is their own^ and that gives it a charm 
 which it would not otherwise possess. They feel that 
 they will have the benefit of such improvements as 
 they may make, and it is wonderful what an effect 
 this consciousness produces. The house was a plain, 
 bald-looking building enough, when Fitz James 
 bought it. Julia said it would be a bold poetic 
 license to call it a cottage! — but he has studied 
 architecture, at intervals, as he has had time, with a 
 view to future advancement, and so he devised, and 
 partly constructed, tasteful little ornaments to sur- 
 mount the windows, and a very preti-y rustic porch 
 in front. The effect was really almost magical, 
 
476 
 
 wlien united with the soft, warm color that took the 
 place of the glaring white of which every one is be- 
 coming so tired. It is quite picturesque, I assure 
 you, now. As a romantic young lady said of it — ' it 
 is like the cottages we read of, — quite a picture- 
 place.' But pretty and tasteful as it is outside^ one 
 must become an inmate of Julia's little Eden, to 
 know half its claims to admiration. It is just the 
 neatest, snuggest, cosiest little nest (by the way they 
 call it ' Cosey Cottage^ as you will please remem 
 ber when you write, dear sir) you can imagine. 
 There is nothing grand, or even elegant, perhaps, 
 but every part is thoroughly furnished for conven- 
 nience and comfort, and everything eorres^ponds. It 
 is not like some city houses I have been in, where 
 everything was expended in glare and display in the 
 two parlors — ' -w^iwisely kept for show,' and up-stairs 
 and in the kitchen, the most scanty, comfortless 
 arrangements. Julia's carpets and curtains are quite 
 inexpensive, but the colors are well chosen for h^- 
 mony of effect. (Julia rather prides herself upon 
 having things artistic^ as she expresses it, even to the 
 looping up of a curtain.) There is a. sort of indescri- 
 bable expression about the little parlor, which, by 
 the way, they really use, daily — ^her friends say — 
 •How much this is like Julia!' Some of Julia's 
 crayon heads, and a sketch or two of Mr. Benton's, 
 are hung in the different rooms, and they have con- 
 trived, or rather imitated, (fori believe St. John said 
 it was a French idea) the prettiest little hracketSy 
 which are disposed about the walls and corners of the 
 parlor. They are only rough things that her hus* 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 477 
 
 band makes up, covered by Julia, with some dark 
 'naterial, and ornamented with fringe, costing almost 
 aothing, but so pretty in effect for supporting vases 
 of flowers or little figures, or something of that kind. 
 Then there is a tiny place, opening from the parlor, 
 dignified with the name of library^ where Julia and 
 Benton * draped,' and ' adjusted,' and re-draped, 
 and re-adjusted, to their infinite enjoyment and con- 
 tent, and somewhat to my amusement^ I will confess 
 to youj dear sir. Indeed they trot in harness^ to 
 borrow one of St. John's phrases, — most thoroughly 
 matched^ as well as rtiated^ and go best together. 
 They think so, at least, I should infer, as they always 
 are together, if possible. Julia helps Benton in the 
 garden — holds the trees and shrubs while he places 
 them, and ties up the creeping-roses, and other 
 things he arranges over the porch, and around the 
 windows, and assists him with the lighter work of 
 manufacturing rustic seats and stands, and baskets 
 for the garden and summer-house ; and Benton (who 
 has quite a set of tools) puts up shelves and various 
 contrivances of that sort, and did help to lay the car- 
 pets, etc., Julia told me. Indeed, while I was with 
 them, Mr. Benton's daily life constantly reminded 
 me of the beautiful injunction — *Let every man 
 show, by his kind acts and good deeds, how much of 
 Heaven he has in him.' 
 
 " But I only tire you, dear sir, by my poor attempts 
 to portray my sister's simple happiness — you 
 must see it for yourself! I make no apology for 
 the minuteness of my details, — ^if they seem puerile, 
 Colonel Lunettes has himself to thank for my frank- 
 
478 THE AMERICAN GENTLEMAN's GUIDE 
 
 ness, but I have yet to learn that my valued friend 
 says, or writes, what he does nbt mean. 
 
 "I have left to the last — ^because so pleasant a 
 theme, — some reference to Julia's pride and delight 
 in 3^our beautiful bridal-gift to her. She has, no 
 doubt, long since, written to thank you ; but I can- 
 not deny myself the gratification of telling you how 
 much she values and enjoys it, — from my own obser- 
 vation. It is really noticeable too, how exactly it 
 suits with all the other table appointments she has — 
 (unless perhaps it is a shade too handsome) only 
 another proof of Colonel Lunettes' fine taste ! Mr. 
 
 Y , to tease Julia, asked her one evening, 
 
 when she was indulging in a repetition of her usual 
 eulogy upon the gift and the giver, whether she 
 really meant to say that she 'preferred a china tea-pot, 
 sugar-bowl, and cream-cup, to silver ones. * Indeed 
 I do,' said she, ' a silver tea-service for m^, would 
 be " sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought !" It 
 would not suit my style at all.' Julia says she shall 
 never be perfectly happy until she makes tea for 
 Colonel Lunettes, from her beautiful china, and Mr. 
 Benton says Colonel Lunettes is the only man in the 
 world of whom he is jealous 1 Upon this, there 
 always follows a gentle {^ery gentle) twitching of 
 St. John's whiskers, of which, I will add, by way 
 of a description of \kiQ personnel of the young man, 
 
 he has a pair as black and curling as Mr. Y 's, — 
 
 indeed, I must concede that Julia's husband is almost 
 as handsome as my own ! 
 
 "We are all eagerly anticipating the fulfillment 
 of your promise to visit our beautiful valley, while 
 
TO POLITENESS AND FASHION. 479 
 
 roted in the gorgeous hues of Autumn. Mr. Y — -* 
 and I, are arranging everything with reference 
 to so agreeable an event; — 'We will go there, or 
 see that,' we say, 'when Colonel Lunettes comes.' 
 Julia, too, is looking forward, with much pleasure, 
 to welcoming so coveted a guest. ' I hope we shall 
 be able to make the Colonel comfortable^ in our 
 quiet way,' she always says, when speaking of your 
 
 promised visit; 'you, and Mr. Y , are so used 
 
 to have the bishop, and other celebrities, that you 
 don't know anything about being nervous, at such 
 times ; but poor me — -just beginning, and such a 
 novice !' Upon this, her husband always appeals to 
 me, to say whether I have nicer things to eat, any- 
 where, ' even at home,' and whether any sensible 
 man could not content himself, even in such a ' little 
 box,' for a few days, at least ; especially, when well 
 assured how happy and honored a certain young 
 lady will be, on the occasion. And I must say, for 
 Julia, that her versatile powers are fully illustrated 
 in her housekeeping. Mr. Y declares that no- 
 body hut his wife can make such bread — a perfect 
 cure for dyspepsia ! and, as for the pumpkin-pies ! — 
 well, upon the whole, he has decided that we ought 
 to spend Thanksgiving at ' Cosey Cottage.' 
 
 "I have omitted to mention that, at Julia's earnest 
 instance, we left her little namesake — ' Colonel Lu- 
 nettes' pet,' as she delights to call herself — with her, 
 when we were there. I hardly knew how to give 
 her up, though but for a few weeks, even to her 
 aunt. Just before we came away, I said to her, 'I 
 hope Aunt Julia, and Uncle St. John, won't spoil 
 
iSO 
 
 you, my darling ; your aunt has promised to scold 
 you, when yon are naughty.' ' Oh, but 'ou see, 
 mamma, I don't never mean to ^e haughty,' she 
 answered, almost stopping my breath with her little 
 chubby arms clinging about my neck. 
 
 " Persuaded, dear sir, that you will have ^ supped 
 your full,' even to repletion, of a * true woman's let- 
 ter,' I will only add to Mr. Y 's kindest remem- 
 brances and regards, the sincere assurance that I 
 am, as ever, 
 
 "Your attached and grateful 
 
 Cecilia D. Y ." 
 
 "Col. Henry Lunettes." 
 
 And now, my dear nephews, that the blessing of 
 Heaven may rest upon you, always, in 
 
 " Life's earnest toil and endeavor," 
 
 is the affectionate and heartfelt prayer and farew;ell 
 of your 
 
 Uncle Hal, 
 
 THE EIJID, 
 
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