Manners and Social Usages, Mrs John M. E. W. Sherwood [always you kirsty moseley .txt] 📗

honor of knowing

you.” In introducing two women, present the younger to the older

woman, the question of rank not holding good in our society where

the position of the husband, be he judge, general, senator, or

president even, does not give his wife fashionable position. She

may be of far less importance in the great world of society than

some Mrs. Smith, who, having nothing else, is set down as of the

highest rank in that unpublished but well-known book of heraldry

which is so thoroughly understood in America as a tradition. It is

the proper thing for a gentleman to ask a mutual friend or an

acquaintance to introduce him to a lady, and there are few

occasions when this request is refused. In our crowded ballrooms,

chaperons often ask young men if they will be introduced to their

charges. It is better before asking the young men of this present

luxurious age, if they will not only be introduced, but if they

propose to dance, with the young lady, else that young person may

be mortified by a snub. It is painful to record, as we must, that

the age of chivalry is past, and that at a gay ball young men

appear as supremely selfish, and desire generally only

introductions to the reigning belle, or to an heiress, not

deigning to look at the humble wall-flower, who is neither, but

whose womanhood should command respect. Ballroom introductions are

supposed to mean, on the part of the gentleman, either an

intention to dance with the young lady, to walk with her, or to

talk to her through one dance, or to show her some attention.

 

Men scarcely ever ask to be introduced to each other, but if a

lady, through some desire of her own, wishes to present them, she

should never be met by indifference on their part. Men have a

right to be exclusive as to their acquaintances, of course; but at

a lady’s table, or in her parlor, they should never openly show

distaste for each other’s society before her.

 

In America it is the fashion to shake hands, and most women, if

desirous of being cordial, extend their hands even on a first

introduction; but it is, perhaps, more elegant to make a bow only,

at a first introduction.

 

In her own house a hostess should always extend her hand to a

person brought to her by a mutual friend, and introduced for the

first time. At a dinner-party, a few minutes before dinner, the

hostess introduces to a lady the gentleman who is to take her down

to the dining-room, but makes no further introductions, except in

the case of a distinguished stranger, to whom all the company are

introduced. Here people, as we have said, are shy of speaking, but

they should not be, for the room where they meet is a sufficient

guarantee that they can converse without any loss of dignity.

 

At large gatherings in the country it is proper for the lady to

introduce her guests to each other, and it is perfectly proper to

do this without asking permission of either party. A mother always

introduces her son or daughter, a husband his wife, or a wife her

husband, without asking permission.

 

A gentleman, after being introduced to a lady, must wait for her

to bow first before he ventures to claim her as an acquaintance.

 

This is Anglo-Saxon etiquette. On the Continent, however, the

gentleman bows first. There the matter of the raising the hat is

also important. An American gentleman takes his hat quite off to a

lady; a foreigner raises it but slightly, and bows with a

deferential air. Between ladies but slightly acquainted, and just

introduced, a very formal bow is all that is proper; acquaintances

and friends bow and smile; intimate male friends simply nod, but

all gentlemen with ladies raise the hat and bow if the lady

recognizes a friend.

 

Introductions which take place out-of-doors, as on the lawn-tennis

ground, in the hunting field, in the street, or in any casual way,

are not to be taken as necessarily formal, unless the lady chooses

so to consider them. The same may be said of introductions at a

watering-place, where a group of ladies walking together may meet

other ladies or gentlemen, and join forces for a walk or drive.

Introductions are needful, and should be made by the oldest lady

of the party, but are not to be considered as making an

acquaintance necessary between the parties if neither should

afterwards wish it. It is universally conceded now that this sort

of casual introduction does not involve either lady in the

net-work of a future acquaintance; nor need a lady recognize a

gentleman, if she does not choose to do so, after a watering-place

introduction. It is always, however, more polite to bow; that

civility hurts no one.

 

There are in our new country many women who consider themselves

fashionable leaders—members of an exclusive set—and who fear if

they should know some other women out of that set that they would

imperil their social standing. These people have no titles by

which they can be known, so they preserve their exclusiveness by

disagreeable manners, as one would hedge a garden by a border of

prickly-pear. The result is that much ill-feeling is engendered in

society, and people whom these old aristocrats call the “_nouveaux

riches_,” “parvenus,” etc., are always having their feelings hurt.

The fact remains that the best-bred and most truly aristocratic

people do not find it necessary to hurt any one’s feelings. An

introduction never harms anybody, and a woman with the slightest

tact can keep off a vulgar and a pushing person without being

rude. It is to be feared that there are vulgar natures among those

who aspire to be considered exclusive, and that they are gratified

if they can presumably increase their own importance by seeming

exclusive; but it is not necessary to dwell on such people.

 

The place given here to the ill-bred is only conceded to them that

one may realize the great demands made upon the tact and the good

feeling of a hostess. She must have a quick apprehension; she may

and will remember, however, that it is very easily forgiven, this

kind-heartedness—that it is better to sin against etiquette than

to do an unkind thing.

 

Great pains should be taken by a hostess to introduce shy people.

Young people are those whose pleasure must depend on

introductions.

 

It is well for a lady in presenting two strangers to say something

which may break the ice, and make the conversation easy and

agreeable; as, for instance, “Mrs. Smith, allow me to present Mr.

Brown, who has just arrived from New Zealand;” or, “Mrs. Jones,

allow me to present Mrs. Walsingham, of Washington—or San

Francisco,” so that the two may naturally have a question and

answer ready with which to step over the threshold of conversation

without tripping.

 

At a five-o’clock tea or a large reception there are reasons why a

lady cannot introduce any one but the daughter or sister whom she

has in charge. A lady who comes and knows no one sometimes goes

away feeling that her hostess has been inattentive, because no one

has spoken to her. She remembers Europe, where the roof-tree has

been an introduction, and where people spoke kindly to her and did

not pass her by. Dinner-parties in stiff and formal London have

this great attraction: a gentleman steps up and speaks to a lady,

although they have never met before, and often takes her down to

dinner without an introduction. The women chat after dinner like

old friends; every one knows that the roof is a sufficient

guarantee. This is as it should be; but great awkwardness results

in the United States if one lady speaks to another and receives no

answer. “Pray, can you tell me who the pianist is?” said a leader

of society to a young girl near her at a private concert. The

young lady looked distressed and blushed, and did not answer.

Having seen a deaf-mute in the room whom she knew, the speaker

concluded that this young lady belonged to that class of persons,

and was very much surprised when later the hostess brought up this

silent personage and introduced her.

 

“I could not speak to you before because I had not been

introduced—but the pianist is Mr. Mills,” remarked this

punctilious person. “I, however, could speak to you, although we

had not been formally presented. The roof was a sufficient

guarantee of your respectability, and I thought from your not

answering that you were deaf and dumb,” said the lady.

 

The rebuke was deserved. Common-sense must interpret etiquette;

“nice customs courtesy to great kings.” Society depends upon its

social soothsayers for all that is good in it. A disagreeable

woman can always find precedents for being formal and chilling; a

fine-tempered woman can always find reasons enough for being

agreeable. A woman would rather be a benediction than a curse, one

would think. We hold it proper, all things considered, that at

dinner-parties and receptions a hostess may introduce her friends

to each other. So long as there is embarrassment, or the mistake

made by the young lady above mentioned who would not answer a

civil question; so long as these mistakes and others are made, and

the result be stupidity and gloom, and a party silent and

thumb-twisting, instead of gayly conversing, as it should be; so

long as people do not come together easily—it is manifestly

proper that the hostess should put her finger on the social

pendulum, and give it a swing to start the conversational clock.

All well-bred people recognize the propriety of speaking to even

an enemy at a dinner-party, although they would suffer no

recognition an hour later. The same principle holds good, of

course, if, in the true exercise of her hospitality, the hostess

should introduce some person whom she would like to commend. These

are the exceptions which form the rule.

 

Care should be taken in presenting foreigners to young ladies;

sometimes titles are dubious. Here, a hostess is to be forgiven if

she positively declines. She may say, politely, “I hardly think I

know you well enough to dare to present you to that young lady.

You must wait until her parents (or guardians, or chaperon) will

present you.”

 

But the numbers of agreeable people who are ready and waiting to

be introduced are many. The woman of literary distinction and the

possessor of an honored name may be invincibly shy and afraid to

speak; while her next neighbor, knowing her fame perhaps, and

anxious to make her acquaintance, misconstrues shyness for

pride—a masquerade which bashfulness sometimes plays; so two

people, with volumes to say to each other, remain silent as

fishes, until the kindly magician comes along, and, by the open

sesame of an introduction, unlocks the treasure which has been so

deftly hidden. A woman of fashion may enter an assembly of

thinkers and find herself dreaded and shunned, until some kind

word creates the entente cordiale. In the social entertainments

of New York, the majority prefer those where the hostess

introduces her guests—under, of course, these wise and proper

limitations.

 

As for forms of introduction, the simplest are best. A lady should

introduce her husband as “Mr. Brown,” “General Brown,” “Judge

Brown.” If he has a title she is always to give it to him. Our

simple forms of titular respect have been condemned abroad, and we

are accused of being all “colonels” and “generals;” but a wife

should still give her husband his title. In addressing the

President we say “Mr. President,” but his wife should say, “Allow

me to introduce the President to you.” The modesty of Mrs. Grant,

however, never allowed her to call