Letters to persons whom you meet frequently in society, without having arrived at intimacy, may commence with "Dear Sir," and end with "I am, dear Sir, yours very truly."
Letters commencing "My dear Sir," addressed to persons whom you appreciate, and with whom you are on friendly terms, may end with "I am, my dear Sir, yours very faithfully," or "yours very sincerely."
To be prompt in replying to a letter is to be polite.
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VI.--THE PROMENADE.
A well-bred man must entertain no respect for the brim of his hat. "A bow," says La Fontaine, "is a note drawn at sight." You are bound to acknowledge it immediately, and to the full amount. The two most elegant men of their day, Charles the Second and George the Fourth, never failed to take off their hats to the meanest of their subjects. Always bear this example in mind; and remember that to nod, or merely to touch the brim of the hat, is far from courteous. True politeness demands that the hat should be quite lifted from the head.
On meeting friends with whom you are likely to shake hands, remove your hat with the left hand in order to leave the right hand free.
If you meet a lady in the street whom you are sufficiently intimate to address, do not stop her, but turn round and walk beside her in whichever direction she is going. When you have said all that you wish to say, you can take your leave.
If you meet a lady with whom you are not particularly well acquainted, wait for her recognition before you venture to bow to her.
In bowing to a lady whom you are not going to address, lift your hat with that hand which is farthest from her. For instance, if you pass her on the right side, use your left hand; if on the left, use your right.
If you are on horseback and wish to converse with a lady who is on foot, you must dismount and lead your horse, so as not to give her the fatigue of looking up to your level. Neither should you subject her to the impropriety of carrying on a conversation in a tone necessarily louder than is sanctioned in public by the laws of good breeding.
When you meet friends or acquaintances in the streets, the exhibitions, or any public places, take care not to pronounce their names so loudly as to attract the attention of the passers-by. Never call across the street: and never carry on a dialogue in a public vehicle, unless your interlocutor occupies the seat beside your own.
In walking with a lady, take charge of any small parcel, parasol, or book with which she may be encumbered.
If you so far forget what is elegant as to smoke in the street, at least never omit to fling away your cigar if you speak to a lady.
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VII.--DRESS.
A great French writer has said, with as much grace as philosophy, that the artist and man of letters needs only a black coat and the absence of all pretension to place him on the level of the best society. It must be observed, however, that this remark applies only to the intellectual workers, who, if they do occasionally commit a minor solecism in dress or manners, are forgiven on account of their fame and talents. Other individuals are compelled to study what we have elsewhere called the "by-laws of society;" and it would be well if artists and men of letters would more frequently do the same. It is not enough that a man should be clever, or well educated, or well born; to take his place in society he must be acquainted with all that this little book proposes to teach. He must, above all else, know how to enter the room, how to bow, and how to dress. Of these three indispensable qualifications, the most important, because the most observed, is the latter.
A gentleman should always be so well dressed that his dress shall never be observed at all. Does this sound like an enigma? It is not meant for one. It only implies that perfect simplicity is perfect elegance, and that the true test of taste in the toilette of a gentleman is its entire harmony, unobtrusiveness and becomingness. If any friend should say to you, "What a handsome waistcoat you have on!" you may depend that a less handsome waistcoat would be in better taste. If you hear it said that Mr. So-and-So wears superb jewellery, you may conclude beforehand that he wears too much. Display, in short, is ever to be avoided, especially in matters of dress. The toilette is the domain of the fair sex. Let a wise man leave its graces and luxuries to his wife, daughters or sisters, and seek to be himself appreciated for something of higher worth than the embroidery upon his shirt front, or the trinkets on his chain.
To be too much in the fashion is as vulgar as to be too far behind it. No really well-bred man follows every new cut that he sees in his tailor's fashion-book. Only very young men, and those not of the most aristocratic circles, are guilty of this folly.
The author of "Pelham" has aptly said that a gentleman's coat should not fit too well. There is great truth and subtlety in this observation. To be fitted too well is to look like a tailor's assistant. This is the great fault which we have to find in the style of even the best bred Frenchmen. They look as if they had just stepped out of a fashion-book, and lack the careless ease which makes an English gentleman look as if his clothes belonged to him, and not he to his clothes.
In the morning wear frock coats, double-breasted waistcoats, and trousers of light or dark colours, according to the season.
In the evening, though only in the bosom of your own family, wear only black, and be as scrupulous to put on a dress coat as if you expected visitors. If you have sons, bring them up to do the same. It is the observance of these minor trifles in domestic etiquette which marks the true gentleman.
For evening parties, dinner parties, and balls, wear a black dress coat, black trousers, black silk or cloth waistcoat, white cravat, white or grey kid gloves, and thin patent leather boots. A black cravat may be worn in full dress, but is not so elegant as a white one. A black velvet waistcoat should only be worn at a dinner party.
Let your jewellery be of the best, but the least gaudy description, and wear it very sparingly. A set of good studs, a gold watch and guard, and one handsome ring, are as many ornaments as a gentleman can wear with propriety. In the morning let your ring be a seal ring, with your crest or arms engraved upon it. In the evening it may be a diamond. Your studs, however valuable, should be small.
It is well to remember in the choice of jewellery that mere costliness is not always the test of value; and that an exquisite work of art, such as a fine cameo, or a natural rarity, such as a black pearl, is a more distingué possession than a large brilliant which any rich and tasteless vulgarian can buy as easily as yourself. For a ring, the gentleman of fine taste would prefer a precious antique intaglio to the handsomest diamond or ruby that could be brought at Hunt and Roskell's. The most elegant gentleman with whom the author was ever acquainted--a man familiar with all the Courts of Europe--never wore any other shirt-studs in full dress than three valuable black pearls, each about the size of a pea, and by no means beautiful to look at.
Of all precious stones, the opal is one of the most lovely and the least common-place. No vulgar man purchases an opal. He invariably prefers the more showy diamond, ruby, sapphire, or emerald.
Unless you are a snuff-taker, never carry any but a white pocket-handkerchief.
If in the morning you wear a long cravat fastened by a pin, be careful to avoid what may be called alliteration of colour. We have seen a torquoise pin worn in a violet-coloured cravat, and the effect was frightful. Choose, if possible, complementary colours, and their secondaries. For instance, if the stone in your pin be a torquoise, wear it with brown, or crimson mixed with black, or black and orange. If a ruby, contrast it with shades of green. The same rule holds good with regard to the mixture and contrast of colours in your waistcoat or cravat. Thus, a buff waistcoat and a blue tie, or brown and blue, or brown and green, or brown and magenta, green and magenta, green and mauve, are all good arrangements of colour.
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