The Gentleman and Lady's Book of Politeness and Propriety of Deportment - Part 7
Library

Part 7

If, in the silence of the study, we have much trouble in rendering correctly a long sentence, how must it be in the world, when the earnestness of conversation prevents us from reflecting? To make long phrases, is to be willing to make mistakes in language; and if we take time to present these interminable sentences in a correct form, we only appear the more clumsy, or the more pretending, for conversation ought never to seem labored, and the expression and the thoughts ought to be of a simultaneous casting.

Avoid the p.r.o.nouns _who_, _which_, particularly when they are interrogatives; for although the grammar does not absolutely condemn their frequency, yet as it is useless and disagreeable to the ear, we should endeavor to avoid it. Thus, instead of _who is it who did such a thing?_--_what is this thing that is here?_ say, _who did such a thing?_--_what is this thing?_

Persons who are careful of their conversation, avoid, as faults of language, expressions which certainly do not deserve this t.i.tle, but which injure the clearness, elegance, and harmony of conversation. Thus they will abstain from uniting those words which, being in conflict as to their meaning and p.r.o.nunciation, make an ambiguity, except when written. They carefully beware of acc.u.mulating synonymes and epithets profusely, or at least, of forgetting with regard to these last, the laws of gradation; of multiplying adverbs, which burden and weaken discourse; they pay great attention to the requirements of euphony, and, in order to this, avoid bringing near to each other, words of similar sound, and of repeating similar words even of the same meaning, such as _at present we offer a present_, _it does a good deal of good_.

These scrupulous and privileged talkers are particularly careful of the connecting particles, for they know how much their omission injures euphony; how it causes persons who are little charitable, to believe that it is a covering, under which are adroitly concealed doubt or ignorance, and this opinion is not always a prejudice.

I had forgotten to say that our skilful talkers endeavor not to furnish, by fortuitous coincidences of words, opportunities for puns; that in the mode of their conversation, they avoid rhymes so unfortunate and even ridiculous in prose; that they dread repet.i.tions of phrases, and axioms, as the repet.i.tions of words; that by short and judicious pauses, they mark the punctuation in the spoken as in the written language; finally, that they endeavor to render their conversation clear, correct and elegant; but these talking-models would be in less danger of defeating their object, if they had less of the precise air of a pedagogue. So far from this, if a grammatical error escapes them, they quickly correct it, but with ease and gaiety. If they hear a gross grammatical error, they do not allow themselves even a smile, or a look which could indicate their feeling, or trouble the one guilty of the error.

CHAPTER VI.

_Of the Moral Observances in Conversation._

_Goodness, moderation and decorum_--these are the motto and the soul of moral propriety in conversation.

A solicitude to be always agreeable and obliging; of observing a proper medium in everything; of respecting the rights of others, even in the most trifling things; susceptibility for every thing which is connected with delicacy, piety, and modesty--all these qualities which belong to politeness, are included in these expressive words; _goodness_, _moderation_, _decorum_.

SECTION I.

_Of Formal and Vulgar Usages._

In the first rank of customary formalities, we place those concerning information about the health. We shall, necessarily, have little to say on this head; there are, however, some little rules which are not to be neglected.

It is proper to vary the phraseology of these formal questions, as much as possible; and we must abstain from them entirely, towards a superior, or a person with whom we are but little acquainted, for such inquiries presuppose some degree of intimacy. In the last case, there is a method of manifesting our interest, without violating etiquette; it consists in making these inquiries of the domestics, or of other persons of the house, and of saying afterwards when introduced; 'I am happy Sir, to hear that you are in good health.'

Custom forbids a lady to make these inquiries of a gentleman, unless he is ill or very aged. To put a corrective upon this mark of regard, a lady who addresses a gentleman, should be earnest in her inquiries of the health of his family, however little intimacy she may have with them. Many persons ask this question mechanically, without waiting for the answer, or else hasten to reply, before they have received it. This is in bad _ton_. Inquiries about the health, it is true, are frequently unimportant, but they should appear to be dictated by attention and kindness. We must not however be deceived, but be careful not to mention a slight indisposition to persons who are strangers to us, because their interest can be only formal.

After we are informed of the health of the person we are visiting, it is proper to inquire of them in relation to the health of their families; but it would be wearisome to them, to make a long enumeration of the members who compose the family. We can put a general question, designating the most important members. In case of the absence of near relations, we ask the person we are visiting, if they have heard from them lately, if the news is favorable. They, on their part, ask the same of us.

When you are not on visits of great ceremony, at the time of taking leave, you are commonly desired to give the compliments and salutations of the persons you are visiting to those with whom you live, then you should reply briefly, but give them a.s.surances of your regard, and thank them.

Politeness infuses into visits of some little ceremony, a coloring of modesty, grace, and deference, which should be preserved with the greatest care.

In speaking, it is always proper to give the name of _Sir_, _Madam_, or _Miss_, and if the sentence is somewhat long, the t.i.tle ought to be repeated. If the question is with regard to answering in the affirmative or negative, we ought never to say roughly _yes_ or _no_.

If the person addressed has a t.i.tle, or that which he has from his profession, we should give it him, as _Count_, _Doctor_, &c. In case we meet with many persons of the same profession, we can then distinguish them, adding their name to the t.i.tle.

A lady will not say, my husband, except among intimates; in every other case, she should address him by his name, calling him _Mr._ It is equally good _ton_ that except on occasions of ceremony, and while she is quite young, to designate him by his christian name.

But when one speaks to a gentleman of the lady to whom he is married, he should not say _your wife_, unless he is intimately acquainted, but _Mrs. such-a-one_, is the most proper. The rules of politeness in this respect, are the same in speaking of the husband.

When we speak of ourself and another person, whether he is absent or present, propriety requires us to mention ourselves last. Thus we should say _he and I_, _you and I_.

When you relate a personal occurrence, the circ.u.mstances connected with which are honorable to yourself, and a distinguished person had also a share in the honor, you should only mention him, and instead of the plural form, _we resolved_, _we did such a thing_, you should forget yourself, and say, _Mr. N. resolved, or did such a thing so and so_.

Delicacy will dictate this degree of modesty to you, and your superior in his turn will proclaim at his own expense, your merit on the occasion.

We know that the word _false_ is not to be found in the dictionary of politeness, and that when we are obliged to deny the a.s.sertion of any one, we employ apologetical forms. The most proper ones are such as the following: _I may be mistaken_, _I am undoubtedly mistaken, but,..._ _Be so good as to excuse my mistake, but it seems to me,..._ _I ask pardon, but I thought_, &c. Those persons are but ill-bred, who think to soften down a denial merely by expressions of doubt. They say, _if what you advance is true_, _if what madam says is positive_, &c. With these forms, they think they comply with the rules of politeness. It is incivility with affectation.

However persons may say invidiously that forms avail much in the world, I agree with them, but in quite another sense.

We should never ask a thing of any one without saying, _will you have the goodness_, _will you do me the favor_, _will you be so good_, &c.

In a circle, we should not pa.s.s before a lady; and should never present any thing by extending the arm over her, but we pa.s.s round behind, and present it. In case we cannot do it, we say, _I ask your pardon_, &c.

To a question which we do not fully comprehend, we never answer, _Ha?

What?_ but, _Be so good as_, &c. _Pardon me, I did not understand._

Never refuse with disdain a pinch of snuff, and rather than disoblige people, take one, even if you throw it away, after having pretended to take it. Beware of presenting to ladies, in b.a.l.l.s or a.s.semblies, a box of _sweet things_, under penalty of having the air of a caricature.

If you strike against any one in the least, ask pardon for it immediately. The other should at the same time answer you, _It is nothing, nothing at all_, &c., even if the blow should have been violent.

It is customary to employ the few moments of a visit of mere politeness, in looking at the portraits which adorn the fireplace, and even taking them down, if you are invited to do it. It would be the extreme of impoliteness, to say that they were flattered, or to pretend to recognize in the portrait of a young lady, the likeness of an elderly lady, or of one less favored by nature. It would moreover be improper to make long compliments; indirect, and ingenious praise, is all that is proper.

SECTION II.

_Of Questions, and frequently recurring Expressions._

It is an axiom of propriety that we should never speak of ourselves, (except to intimate friends) and that we should converse with strangers about themselves, and everything which can interest them. Questions are therefore necessary, but they demand infinite delicacy and tact, in order neither to fatigue nor ever wound the feelings. If, instead of expressing a mild and heartfelt interest, you ask a dry question dictated by a cold curiosity; if you seem to pay no attention to the answers which you call forth; if you mal-adroitly take a commanding tone; if you prolong without bounds this kind of conversation; if, perceiving that you are embarra.s.sed, and that you endeavor to save yourself by an evasive answer, instead of keeping silence, you witness the foolish regrets of your indiscretion; be a.s.sured that both your questions and yourself will be considered as a torment.

Madame Necker ingeniously observes that these favorite and frequently repeated terms with which we fill our conversation, serve, ordinarily as a mark of people's character. 'Thus,' says she, 'those who exceed the truth are in the habit of saying, _You may rely upon it, it is the truth_; long talkers say, _In a word, to be brief_; and the proud say, _Without boasting_,' &c. This striking observation is well founded, and consequently we ought to take good care not to let people into the secret of our peculiarities.

But, independently of this motive, it is necessary for us carefully to avoid frequently recurring words, as in time, habit multiplies them to an inconceivable degree. They embarra.s.s and overwhelm our conversation, turn away the attention of those who listen to us, and render us importunate, and ridiculous, without our being able to perceive it.

If habitual terms, which on no other account are reprehensible, can become so troublesome, what results may these trite phrases, trivial expressions, and vulgar transitions produce, when they become frequent!

SECTION III.

_Of Narrations, a.n.a.lysis, and Digressions._

There are many conditions indispensable to the success of a narrative.

These conditions are, first, novelty; the best stories weary when they are multiplied too much, because every one wishes to be an actor in his turn upon the stage of the world. So that, when you have anything excellent to relate, consult less your own desire to tell it, than the wishes of others to hear you. There are but too many people who discover the secret of wearying while telling very good things, on account of their too great eagerness to tell them.

The next thing is to take a suitable opportunity. Let your narration spring naturally from the conversation; let it explain a fact, or come in support of an opinion, but let it never appear to be introduced by the foolish pleasure of talking, or by a not less foolish desire of making a display of talent. Remember that the most meagre recitals, when they are apropos, frequently please more than the best things in the world, when they are said out of time. And even endeavoring to monopolize the conversation is in bad _ton_, particularly for young persons and ladies, especially if it is but a few moments since they occupied the attention of the company. It is an agreeable and modest mark of propriety to request some one to relate an anecdote of the day, of which you have made mention, and the circ.u.mstances of which you desire to know. This is well suited to persons of distinguished talents.

The person called upon, bows and excuses himself with a few words before acceding to your request.

It is of all importance that the language correspond to the different forms which the narration requires; that, under pretext of adorning our story, we do not wander into far-fetched comparisons, dull details, or interminable dialogues; that if we relate anything amusing or striking, we should observe the utmost seriousness, and finally, before commencing a recital of this kind, we keep in mind these lines of Lafontaine;

Il ne faut jamais dire aux gens, Ecoutez un bon mot, oyez une merveille, Savez-vous si les ecoutans En feront une estime a la votre pareille?

When, for want of observing this, as well as many other similar rules, narrators fail of the expected effect, and think to be able to tell it over again, and remarking on the comic part of the story, and laboring to repeat it thus;--_Do you not think this excellent, wonderful?_ Alas!

they only add to their own defeat, and to the ennui of their poor hearers.

If one relates an anecdote which you already know, permit him to finish it, and do not in any way draw off the attention of those who are listening. If your opinion is asked, give it frankly, and without wishing to appear better informed than the narrator himself. Still farther; if you happen to be in tete-a-tete with the same narrator, observe the same silence, and listen with an air of interest, and if he happens to impart to you what he related the preceding day, which he had from you yourself, you should appear to listen with equal interest, as if for the first time. Frequently, in the midst of a recital, the narrator, through forgetfulness, hesitates, and thinks that he can recall it. Look at him attentively. If he is in doubt, declare that you are altogether ignorant of the subject in question. If his memory returns, request him to continue, at the same time saying; _I listen to you always with new pleasure_. This delicate politeness is particularly to be observed towards old persons.