Frosts Laws and By-Laws of American Society | Page 4

etiquette served to light the flame of civil war, as once they

did in France, and to set the whole of the upper class in a kingdom in
arms. We owe this, perhaps, as much to the general increase of
civilization as to the working of any particular set of rules or system.
But the principle which actuated the French nobility, at the time alluded
to, is an inherent one in the human mind, and would be likely to repeat
itself in some shape or another, not so violently perhaps, but still to
repeat itself, were it not kept in check by the known laws of society.
Mr. Buckle tells us that as late as the reign of Louis the Fourteenth, the
right to sit in the presence of the French king "was considered to be a
matter of such gravity that in comparison with it a mere struggle for
liberty faded into insignificance." There was a perpetual striving which
should be accounted greatest. According to the old code of etiquette, a
duke's wife might sit in the French queen's presence, but no one under
that rank could do so. A combination of marquises, counts, and other
nobles was formed and wrung from the hand of Louis the Fourteenth,
this concession that the ladies of the house of Bouillon might sit in the
presence of the queen. But this was fuel to the fire of the combined
noblemen's anger; two hostile parties were formed, and the question of
etiquette was nearly being decided by the sword. It required all the tact
and statesmanship of Mazarin to prevent this, and in the end the right
was conceded to three of the most distinguished ladies of the lower
aristocracy, to sit down in the presence of the queen. Upon this, the
superior nobility summoned their adherents to Paris, and really a severe
struggle followed, which ended in the last mentioned concession being
revoked; and so great was the importance attached to the revocation
that nothing would satisfy the nobles short of the public withdrawal
being drawn up in a state paper, signed by the queen's regent,
countersigned by the four secretaries of state, and conveyed to the
assembly of nobles by four marshals of France.
The French memoirs of this period (the seventeenth century) abound
with references to just such questions of court etiquette; who might use
an arm-chair at court; who was to be invited to the royal dinner; who
might be kissed by the queen; what degree of nobility entitled a man to
be driven to the Louvre in a coach; whether all dukes were equal, or
whether, as some thought, the Duke de Bouillon, having once
possessed the sovereignty of Sedan, was superior to the Duke de la
Rochefoucauld, who had never possessed any sovereignty at all; who

should give the king his napkin at dinner, and who might have the
honor of assisting at the toilet of the queen. The question whether the
Duke de Beaufort ought or ought not to enter the council chamber
before the Duke de Nemours, and whether, being there, he ought or
ought not to sit above him, caused a violent quarrel between the two
dukes in 1652, a quarrel which, of course, ended in a duel, and the
death of the Duke de Nemours. The equally grave question, whether a
duke should sign before a marshal was violently disputed between the
Duke de Rohan and one of the marshals of Henry the Fourth, and the
king was obliged to interfere in the matter.
These, of course, are but so many instances of the principle of etiquette
carried to an extravagant length, and simply prove the danger there is in
allowing things of less importance to supersede or take the precedence
of those of greater weight. They serve to explain, and in some measure
to excuse the denunciatory expressions which many thoroughly
well-bred people use against etiquette, such expressions being, as
before suggested, merely protests uttered in anticipation of a repetition
of the absurdity which over-attention to ceremonies is liable to
introduce.
But such cases are really no argument against etiquette itself, without
deference to which it would be impossible to live in anything like
freedom from annoyance from persons naturally impertinent, or in the
full enjoyment of that social liberty which every one has a right to
expect.
Good breeding is, as Lord Chesterfield well says, "the result of much
good sense, some good nature, and a little self-denial for the sake of
others, and with a view to obtain the same indulgence from them." Lord
Bacon, in his admirable essay on Ceremonies, says:
"Not to use ceremonies at all, is to teach others not to use them again,
and so diminisheth respect to himself; especially they be not to be
omitted to strangers