The Laws of Etiquette | Page 2

after the first or second, is actually more clearly defined,
and more rigidly observed in America, than in any country of Europe.
Persons unaccustomed to look searchingly at these matters, may be
surprised to hear it; but we know from observation, that there are
among the respectable, in any city of the United States, at least ten
distinct ranks. We cannot, of course, here point them out, because we
could not do it without mentioning names.
Every man is naturally desirous of finding entrance into the best society
of his country, and it becomes therefore a matter of importance to
ascertain what qualifications are demanded for admittance.
A writer who is popularly unpopular, has remarked, that the test of
standing in Boston, is literary eminence; in New York, wealth; and in
Philadelphia, purity of blood.
To this remark, we can only oppose our opinion, that none of these are
indispensable, and none of them sufficient. The society of this country,
unlike that of England, does not court literary talent. We have cases in
our recollection, which prove the remark, in relation to the highest
ranks, even of Boston. Wealth has no pretensions to be the standard

anywhere. In New York, the Liverpool of America, although the rich
may make greater display and _bruit,_ yet all of the merely rich, will
find that there does exist a small and unchanging circle, whether above
or below them, 'it is not ours to say,' yet completely apart from them,
into which they would rejoice to find entrance, and from which they
would be glad to receive emigrants.
Whatever may be the accomplishments necessary to render one capable
of reaching the highest platform of social eminence, and it is not easy
to define clearly what they are, there is one thing, and one alone, which
will enable any man to retain his station there; and that is, GOOD
BREEDING. Without it, we believe that literature, wealth, and even
blood, will be unsuccessful. By it, if it co-exist with a certain capacity
of affording pleasure by conversation, any one, we imagine, could
frequent the very best society in every city of America, and _perhaps
the very best alone._ To obtain, then, the manners of a gentleman is a
matter of no small importance.
We do not pretend that a man will be metamorphosed into a gentleman
by reading this book, or any other book. Refined manners are like
refined style which Cicero compares to the colour of the cheeks, which
is not acquired by sudden or violent exposure to heat, but by continual
walking in the sun. Good manners can certainly only be acquired by
much usage in good company. But there are a number of little forms,
imperiously enacted by custom, which may be taught in this manner,
and the conscious ignorance of which often prevents persons from
going into company at all.
These forms may be abundantly absurd, but still they must be attended
to; for one half the world does and always will observe them, and the
other half is at a great disadvantage if it does not. Intercourse is
constantly taking place, and an awkward man of letters, in the society
of a polished man of the world, is like a strong man contending with a
skilful fencer. Mr. Addison says, that he once saw the ablest
mathematician in the kingdom utterly embarrassed, from not knowing
whether he ought to stand or sit when my lord duke drank his health.
Some of the many errors which are liable to be committed through

ignorance of usage, are pleasantly pointed out in the following story,
which is related by a French writer.
The Abb, Cosson, professor in the _College Mazarin,_ thoroughly
accomplished in the art of teaching, saturated with Greek, Latin, and
literature, considered himself a perfect well of science: he had no
conception that a man who knew all Persius and Horace by heart could
possibly commit an error--above all, an error at table. But it was not
long before he discovered his mistake. One day, after dining with the
Abb, de Radonvillers at Versailles, in company with several courtiers
and marshals of France, he was boasting of the rare acquaintance with
etiquette and custom which he had exhibited at dinner. The Abb,
Delille, who heard this eulogy upon his own conduct, interrupted his
harangue, by offering to wager that he had committed at least a hundred
improprieties at the table. "How is it possible!" exclaimed Cosson. "I
did exactly like the rest of the company."
"What absurdity!" said the other. "You did a thousand things which no
one else did. First, when you sat down at the table, what did you do
with your napkin?" "My napkin? Why just what every body else did
with theirs. I unfolded it entire]y, and fastened it