The American Gentleman's Guide to Politeness and Fashion Part 28

As an ill.u.s.tration 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 I was the 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 Representatives. General Granger, of New York, proposed a Soldier of the Revolution as well as of the Cross--the Rev. Mr. Waldo--adding a few impressive 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 benches_, 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 Office,"

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 Militant_!"

"Is he a _Filibuster_?"

"Even so, sir! Mr. Waldo filibustered for the _Old Thirteen_, against George the Third, in the American Revolution!"

I am, my dear boys, as ever, Your affectionate, "UNCLE HAL."

LETTER 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 _self_,"

you must not wholly overlook the importance of _Habit_, 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 compelled by necessity to unlearn, with a painful effort, what has been insensibly acquired.

Permit me, then, a few random suggestions, intended 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 intercourse among our countrymen, both at home and abroad, one might naturally make the inference, that most of them regard _Rudeness_ and _Republicanism_ as synonymous terms. Depend upon it, that as a people, we are retrograding on this point. Our upper cla.s.s--or what would fain be deemed such--in society, may more successfully imitate the fashionable follies 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 arrogant a.s.sumption, or a defiant independence of the amenities of life, is true manliness. Breaking away from the ceremonious old school of habit and manner, we are rapidly running into the opposite extreme, and the ma.s.ses who, with little time or inclination for personal reflection, on such subjects, naturally take their clue, to some extent, from the a.s.sumed exponents of the laws of the fickle G.o.ddess, exaggerating 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 independence, so defy all abstract propriety, as, if not to "make the angels weep," at least to mortify and disgust 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 as the accredited official representative of his government, 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 forming an estimate of the social and political advancement of the people who are making the great experiment 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, suddenly released from the discipline which, from its very severity, prompts them to indulge in the extreme of license. Thus, we lately had accounts of the humiliating conduct of some Americans, who, being guests one night at the Tuileries, actually 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 surrept.i.tiously obtained admittance to the imperial fete, they are reported to have p.r.o.nounced the intelligence "_rich!_" 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. In the Elegant and Ideal Arts, in Literature, in general Science, the superiority of our predecessors in the history of Progress, is cheerfully admitted. Can we, then, learn nothing from the matured civilization of the Old World in regard to the _Art of Living_? Shall we defy the race to which we belong, on this point alone?

This secret is possessed in greatest perfection by those who have longest studied its details, and some long existent nations who display little practical wisdom in matters of political science, are greybeard 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, concentrating 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 _Graces_, by a successful ill.u.s.tration of the truth, that _as a people we are capable of self-government_! We shall, then, no longer have the wife of an American minister 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 material for the admonitory reflection that the bond of family union between John Bull and his cousin Jonathan must be somewhat uncertain "when so small a matter as the _tie of a cravat can materially affect the price of stocks_!" And, when vulgar bl.u.s.ter and braggadocio are no longer mistaken for the proper a.s.sertion of national and individual independence, we shall not have an American gentleman who, like our justly-distinguished countryman, George Peabody, 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 paean, accused 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 ent.i.tle each of us, in the estimation of discriminating observers, to the distinctive name of _gentleman_.

_Constant a.s.sociation with well-bred and well-educated society_, cannot be too highly estimated as an a.s.sistant in the acquisition of the attributes of which we propose to speak. A taste for such companionship may be so strengthened 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.

One of the collateral benefits resulting from proper social a.s.sociations, will be an escape from _eccentricities_ 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 circ.u.mstance.

But, as observation proves that this, though a safeguard, is by no means always a sufficient defense, 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 descending to puerilities unworthy of myself and you, when I call your attention to such matters as your att.i.tude in standing and sitting, or any other little individualizing peculiarities.

Some men fall into a habit of walking and standing with their heads run out before them, as if doubtful 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, undoubtedly.

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 uncomfortable than walking arm in arm with such a man. He pokes his elbows into your ribs, pushes you against pa.s.sers-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-humored unconsciousness of his annoying peculiarity. If you are so unfortunate as to be shut up in a carriage with him, his restless propensity relieves itself to the great disturbance of the reserved rights of ladies, and the frequent impalement upon his protruding elbows of fragments of fringe, lace, and small children! At table, if it be possible, his neighbors gently and gradually withdraw from his immediate vicinity, leaving a _clearing_ to his undisputed 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 effectually prevent a man of sense from falling into such peculiarities. Early acquire the habit of standing and walking with your chest thrown out--your head erect--your abdomen receding rather than protruding--not leaning back any more than forward--with your arms _scientifically_ adjusted--your hat on the _top_ (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 treading on eggs; but, with a compact, manly, h.o.m.ogeneous 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 peculiar face. So with the free, firm pace by which the n.o.ble 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 att.i.tudes. 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 circ.u.mstances, by indulging in anything 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 indeed with all sensuous enjoyments, should always be such as not to suggest to others ideas of merely selfish animal gratification. Among minor characteristics, few are so indicative of genuine good-breeding as a man's mode of _eating_.

Upon Poor Richard'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 recurrence. It is well, therefore, to learn to sit uprightly at table, to keep one's individual "aids and appliances" 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 _point_ 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 others partake; in short, everything that is odd, or coa.r.s.e, should nowhere be indulged in.

Cut your meat, or whatever requires the use of the knife, and, leaving that dangerous instrument conveniently 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 approaching a liquid to be eaten with a fork, as stewed tomato, or cranberry, _sop_ it with small pieces of bread;--a _spoon_ is not used while eating meats and their accompaniments. Never 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 vegetable.

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 while applying it, and on no account resort to the _perceptible_ a.s.sistance of the tongue in freeing the mouth or teeth from food.

Have sufficient self-control, when so unfortunate as to be disgusted with anything in your food, to refrain from every outward manifestation of annoyance, and if possible, to conceal from others all partic.i.p.ation 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 a.s.sociates.

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 cla.s.ses. 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 characterize the display of this gentlemanly accomplishment. Aim at dexterous and rapid manipulation, and shun the semblance of hurry, labor, or fatigue. 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 appet.i.tes. If possible, give them the choice of selection in the cuts of meats, especially of birds and poultry.

Never pour gravy upon a plate, without permission. A little of the filling 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 ma.s.s, 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 accompaniments of your meats neatly separated, and, where you _pay 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.