<SPAN name="startofbook"></SPAN>
<hr class="full" />
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/cover.jpg" width-obs="309" height-obs="500" alt="" title="" /></div>
<p class="cb">
<big><big><big>HOTEL CECIL,</big></big></big><br/>
<big>LONDON</big>.</p>
<p class="csqw">/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\</p>
<p class="cb">The Most Fashionable and<br/>
<span style="margin-left: 5em;">Popular Hotel in Europe.</span></p>
<p class="csqw">/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\</p>
<p class="cb">MAGNIFICENT SUITES OF ROOMS</p>
<p class="c"><small>FOR</small></p>
<p class="c">PUBLIC & PRIVATE BANQUETS, RECEPTIONS, &c.</p>
<hr />
<p class="cbund"><big><big><big>“TABLE</big></big></big><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 8em;"><big><big><big>TALK.”</big></big></big></span></p>
<p class="cb">2d. WEEKLY.</p>
<hr style="width:15%;margin:.52em auto .52em auto;" />
<p class="cb">ON ALL BOOKSTALLS.</p>
<hr />
<p class="cb">MANNERS FOR MEN</p>
<h1> <span class="smcap">Manners</span><br/> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">FOR MEN</span></h1>
<p class="cb">BY MRS. HUMPHRY<br/>
(“MADGE” OF “TRUTH”)<br/>
<br/>
<span class="eng">London</span><br/>
JAMES BOWDEN<br/>
10, HENRIETTA STREET<br/>
COVENT GARDEN, W.C.<br/>
1897<br/>
<br/><br/>
MANNERS FOR MEN.</p>
<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="">
<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">First Edition</span></td><td align="left"><i>February, 1897</i>.</td></tr>
<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Second Edition</span> </td><td align="left"><i>March, 1897</i>.</td></tr>
</table>
<h2><SPAN name="CONTENTS" id="CONTENTS"></SPAN>CONTENTS.</h2>
<table border="0" cellpadding="1" cellspacing="0" summary="">
<tr><td> </td><td class="rt"><small>PAGE</small></td></tr>
<tr><td valign="top"><SPAN href="#WOMANS_IDEAL_MAN"><span class="smcap">Woman’s Ideal Man</span></SPAN></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><SPAN href="#page_001">1</SPAN></td></tr>
<tr><td valign="top"><SPAN href="#IN_THE_STREET"><span class="smcap">In the Street</span></SPAN></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><SPAN href="#page_012">12</SPAN></td></tr>
<tr><td valign="top"><SPAN href="#IN_A_CARRIAGE"><span class="smcap">In a Carriage</span></SPAN></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><SPAN href="#page_029">29</SPAN></td></tr>
<tr><td valign="top"><SPAN href="#IN_A_HANSOM"><span class="smcap">In a Hansom</span></SPAN></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><SPAN href="#page_031">31</SPAN></td></tr>
<tr><td valign="top"><SPAN href="#SMOKING"><span class="smcap">Smoking</span></SPAN></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><SPAN href="#page_032">32</SPAN></td></tr>
<tr><td valign="top"><SPAN href="#IN_OR_ON_AN_OMNIBUS"><span class="smcap">In or on an Omnibus</span></SPAN></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><SPAN href="#page_036">36</SPAN></td></tr>
<tr><td valign="top"><SPAN href="#ON_HORSEBACK"><span class="smcap">On Horseback</span></SPAN></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><SPAN href="#page_042">42</SPAN></td></tr>
<tr><td valign="top"><SPAN href="#DRIVING"><span class="smcap">Driving</span></SPAN></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><SPAN href="#page_046">46</SPAN></td></tr>
<tr><td valign="top"><SPAN href="#GAMES_AND_RECREATIONS"><span class="smcap">Games and Recreations</span></SPAN></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><SPAN href="#page_050">50</SPAN></td></tr>
<tr><td valign="top"><SPAN href="#RULE_OF_THE_ROAD_ON_THE_RIVER"><span class="smcap">Rule of the Road on the River</span></SPAN></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><SPAN href="#page_053">53</SPAN></td></tr>
<tr><td valign="top"><SPAN href="#DINNER-PARTIES"><span class="smcap">Dinner-Parties</span></SPAN></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><SPAN href="#page_055">55</SPAN></td></tr>
<tr><td valign="top"><SPAN href="#PUBLIC_DINNERS"><span class="smcap">Public Dinners</span></SPAN></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><SPAN href="#page_083">83</SPAN></td></tr>
<tr><td valign="top"><SPAN href="#AT_A_RESTAURANT"><span class="smcap">At a Restaurant</span></SPAN></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><SPAN href="#page_088">88</SPAN></td></tr>
<tr><td valign="top"><SPAN href="#AT_LUNCH"><span class="smcap">At Lunch</span></SPAN></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><SPAN href="#page_091">91</SPAN></td></tr>
<tr><td valign="top"><SPAN href="#FIVE_OCLOCK_TEA_AND_AFTERNOON_AT-HOMES"><span class="smcap">Five O’clock Tea and Afternoon At-Homes</span></SPAN></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><SPAN href="#page_094">94</SPAN></td></tr>
<tr><td valign="top"><SPAN href="#AT_THE_PLAY"><span class="smcap">At the Play</span></SPAN></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><SPAN href="#page_096">96</SPAN></td></tr>
<tr><td valign="top"><SPAN href="#AT_A_BALL"><span class="smcap">At a Ball</span></SPAN></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><SPAN href="#page_103">103</SPAN></td></tr>
<tr><td valign="top"><SPAN href="#ENGAGEMENT_AND_MARRIAGE"><span class="smcap">Engagement and Marriage</span></SPAN></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><SPAN href="#page_108">108</SPAN></td></tr>
<tr><td valign="top"><SPAN href="#DRESS"><span class="smcap">Dress</span></SPAN></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><SPAN href="#page_113">113</SPAN></td></tr>
<tr><td valign="top"><SPAN href="#COUNTRY_LIFE"><span class="smcap">Country Life</span></SPAN></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><SPAN href="#page_119">119</SPAN></td></tr>
<tr><td valign="top"><SPAN href="#VISITING-CARDS_AND_CALLS"><span class="smcap">Visiting-Cards and Calls</span></SPAN></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><SPAN href="#page_121">121</SPAN></td></tr>
<tr><td valign="top"><SPAN href="#MANNER"><span class="smcap">Manner</span></SPAN></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><SPAN href="#page_131">131</SPAN></td></tr>
<tr><td valign="top"><SPAN href="#IN_CHURCH"><span class="smcap">In Church</span></SPAN></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><SPAN href="#page_145">145</SPAN></td></tr>
<tr><td valign="top"><SPAN href="#CORRESPONDENCE"><span class="smcap">Correspondence</span></SPAN></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><SPAN href="#page_148">148</SPAN></td></tr>
<tr><td valign="top"><SPAN href="#PERSONAL_SPEECH_WITH_ROYALTY_AND_RANK"><span class="smcap">Personal Speech with Royalty and Rank</span></SPAN></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><SPAN href="#page_158">158</SPAN></td></tr>
</table>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_001" id="page_001"></SPAN>{1}</span></p>
<h1>MANNERS FOR MEN.</h1>
<h2><SPAN name="WOMANS_IDEAL_MAN" id="WOMANS_IDEAL_MAN"></SPAN><i>WOMAN’S IDEAL MAN</i>.</h2>
<p class="nind"><span class="smcap">I suppose</span> there was never yet a woman who had not somewhere set up on a
pedestal in her brain an ideal of manhood. He is by no means immutable,
this paragon. On the contrary, he changes very often.</p>
<div class="sidenote">The ideal changes with the idealist.</div>
<p>If, however, the woman whose ideal he is grows upward in every way as
she grows older, then these changes all go to improve him, and by the
time he is finished he is a very fine creature. He never is finished
till the brain of his creator ceases to work, till she has added her
last touch to him, and has laid down the burden of life and gone
elsewhere, perhaps to some happy land where ideals are more frequently
realised than ever happens here.</p>
<div class="sidenote">My ideal man.</div>
<p>Like every other woman, I have my ideal of manhood. The difficulty is to
describe it. First of all, he must be a gentleman; but that means so
much that it, in its turn, requires explanation.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_002" id="page_002"></SPAN>{2}</span> Gentleness and moral
strength combined must be the salient characteristics of the
“gentleman,” together with that polish that is never acquired but in one
way: constant association with those so happily placed that they have
enjoyed the influences of education and refinement all through their
lives. He must be thoughtful for others, kind to women and children and
all helpless things, tender-hearted to the old and the poor and the
unhappy, but never foolishly weak in giving where gifts do</p>
<div class="sidenote">A man’s brain should be as fine as his heart.</div>
<p class="nind">harm instead of good—his brain must be as fine as his heart, in fact.
There are few such men; but they do exist. I know one or two. Reliable
as rocks, judicious in every action, dependable in trifles as well as
the large affairs of life, full of mercy and kindness to others,
affectionate and well-loved in their homes, their lives are pure and
kindly.</p>
<p>It was once said by a clever man that no one could be a gentleman all
round who had not</p>
<div class="sidenote">The furnace of experience.</div>
<p class="nind">knocked about the world and associated with all sorts and conditions of
men, high and low, rich and poor, good and bad. Experiences like these
are like the processes for refining gold. The man who emerges unharmed
from the fire of poverty and its associations, and who retains his
independent manliness<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_003" id="page_003"></SPAN>{3}</span> in relations with those high-placed, must have
within him a fibre of strength that is the true essence of manliness. So
many, alas! go down, down, when “puirtith cauld” touches them with her
terrible, chilly finger. And so many become obsequious and subservient,
false to themselves, in dealings with those above them.</p>
<p>Well! my ideal does neither. He is always true to himself, and “cannot
then be false to any man.” And he must have a sense of humour, too,
otherwise he would be far</p>
<div class="sidenote">Humour an essential.</div>
<p class="nind">from perfect. How life is brightened by a sense of fun! Think of what
breakfast, lunch, and dinner would be if all were to be as solemn and as
serious as some folk would have it!</p>
<p>If good manners are not practised at home, but are allowed to lie by
until occasion calls upon their wearer to assume them, they are</p>
<div class="sidenote">On behaviour in one’s own home.</div>
<p class="nind">sure to be a bad fit when donned. It may be a trifle of the smallest to
acquire a habit of saying “if you please” and “thank you” readily, but
it is no trifling defect in a young man to fail to do so. If he does not
jump up to open the door for his mother or sister, he may omit to do so
some day when the neglect will tell against him in the estimation of
those to please whom he would gladly give much. Carelessness in dress
and personal appearance<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_004" id="page_004"></SPAN>{4}</span> amount to bad manners. In the home there is
sometimes a disagreeable negligence in this respect. At the
breakfast-table unkempt hair, untended finger-nails, and a far from
immaculate collar are occasionally to be seen, especially on late-comers
who do not practise the ingratiating politeness of punctuality.
Lounging, untidy habits are another form of bad manners. The ill-bred
young man smokes</p>
<div class="sidenote">The ill-bred young man at home.</div>
<p class="nind">all over the house, upstairs and downstairs, and even in his mother’s
drawing-room. He may be traced from room to room by the litter of
newspapers and magazines he leaves behind him. The present fashion of
taking one’s reading in pills, so to speak, snatching it in scrappy
paragraphs from weekly miscellanies, is but too favourable to this lack
of order. In this young man’s own room there is chaos. The maids have
endless trouble in clearing up after him. His tobacco is spilled over
tables, chairs, and carpets. His handkerchiefs, ties, socks, and collars
are lying about in every corner of the room. He is too indolent even to
put his boots outside the door at night that they may be cleaned in the
morning. To save himself trouble he bangs all the doors instead of
gently latching them. And yet, perhaps, if he could but realise that all
this is “bad manners,” he would become as neat as he is now the reverse,
and would be as decorative<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_005" id="page_005"></SPAN>{5}</span> at table as he is, at the present moment,
unornamental.</p>
<p>It is not only young men whose standard of behaviour in the home is a
low one. Masters of the</p>
<div class="sidenote">“Young” men not alone culpable.</div>
<p class="nind">house, fathers of families, men of middle age, who are terribly put out
if any one fails in duty to them, are sometimes conspicuously ill-bred
in everyday matters. They are late for every meal, to the discomfort of
the other members of the family and the great inconvenience of the
servants. Polite to the world outside, they are brusque and disagreeable
in their manner at home: rough to the servants, rude to their wives, and
irritable with their children. Sometimes a good heart and considerable
family affection are hidden away behind all this, but the families of
such men would be very glad to compound for a little less affection and
hidden goodness and rather more gentleness and outward polish.</p>
<p>Apart from faults of temper, men fall into careless habits of speech and
manner at home, and one form of this, viz., habitually using strong
language in the presence</p>
<div class="sidenote">On strong language.</div>
<p class="nind">of women and children, is particularly offensive. Besides, it defeats
itself; for if the forcible expressions are intended to express
disapprobation, they soon become weak and powerless to do so, because
they are used on every possible occasion.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_006" id="page_006"></SPAN>{6}</span> After a time they lose all
meaning.</p>
<p>I know a family where there are sons and daughters, the latter charming
and in every respect young gentlewomen. But the sons fall far below
their level.</p>
<div class="sidenote">A typical family.</div>
<p>They come to the door with thundering knocks that make every one in the
house start disagreeably with surprise, walk through the hall without
introducing their muddy boots to either scraper or doormat, sit down to
meals without the usual preliminary of hand-washing and hair-brushing,
and are altogether rough and unpresentable. If friends call at the house
these young men rush away from the chance of encountering them; or, if
they cannot help meeting them, they blush scarlet, look very <i>gauche</i>
and uncomfortable, and feel miserable. They knock things over out of
pure awkwardness, and never realise that the secret of the whole matter
is the want of self-training.</p>
<div class="sidenote">The secret of the whole matter.</div>
<p>Girls are animated by a greater wish to please, an amiable desire that
need not be confounded with vanity, and this wish has led the sisters of
these young men to practise those small acts of daily self-denial which
after awhile produce the highest self-culture so far as manners go.</p>
<div class="sidenote">The feminine motive.</div>
<p>What is habitual neatness but constant coercion of human nature’s innate
indolence? What is politeness<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_007" id="page_007"></SPAN>{7}</span> in the home but the outcome of affection
and self-respect, and the suppression of all those natural instincts of
self-seeking that, allowed their way, produce the worst manners in the
world?</p>
<p>If any young man desires to be a perfect gentleman, he must begin in his
own home.</p>
<div class="sidenote">The young man every one loves.</div>
<p>It is delightful to see some young men unobtrusively attentive to their
sisters, watchful of every need of their father and mother, cheerful and
pleasant in their manner, full of fun and brightness, yet never losing
the gentleness that denotes the fine nature, and so beloved in the home
for all these endearing qualities, that when they leave it they are
sadly missed. The father misses them for the pleasant companionship; the
sisters miss them for the boyish spirits and the exuberant fun that
never exceeds the bounds of good taste and refinement; and the mother
misses them more than any one else, for no one better than she knows how
many times a day her boys have set aside their own wishes in deference
to hers, quietly, silently, unostentatiously—in a word, out of pure
good manners, in the deepest, highest, truest sense of the words.</p>
<div class="sidenote">“Gentle, yet virile.”</div>
<p>Such gentle, virile natures look out at the world through the
countenance, which is a letter of recommendation to them wherever they
go.</p>
<p>I have but faintly sketched my ideal.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_008" id="page_008"></SPAN>{8}</span> The following pages may fill in
the remaining touches.</p>
<p>Many men who go out into the world while still very young to earn their
living have few opportunities of acquiring a knowledge of social
observances.</p>
<div class="sidenote">Difficulties in the way.</div>
<p>Leaving home when boys, at an age when they are utterly careless of such
things as etiquette and the “nice conduct of a cane,” they live in
lodgings or at boarding-houses of the cheaper sort, where the amenities
of existence have to yield to its practicalities.</p>
<div class="sidenote">“Where amenities yield to practicalities.”</div>
<p>Meals are served in a fashion that means despatch rather than elegance,
economy rather than taste, and very few hints can be picked up for the
guidance of young fellows when they enter the homes of friends and
acquaintances.</p>
<div class="sidenote">The penalty of ignorance.</div>
<p>Their anxiety to fall in accurately and easily with the observances of
those they meet on such occasions is as great as it is natural. They
know well that to fail in these trifling acts of omission and commission
is tacitly to acknowledge that they are unversed in the ways of good
society.</p>
<div class="sidenote">The aspirant is not necessarily a snob.</div>
<p>There is not necessarily any snobbishness in this. A man may be
perfectly manly and yet most unwilling to show himself inferior in any
way to others of the class to which he belongs by birth and education.
Even should<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_009" id="page_009"></SPAN>{9}</span> those with whom he occasionally associates be his
superiors, is he not right to try to rise?</p>
<div class="sidenote">Culture and polish are realities.</div>
<p>Culture may mean little or nothing to the uncultured. Polish may be an
empty word to the unpolished. But they are realities, and go far to
produce an inward and corresponding refinement of mind and spirit.</p>
<p>There are thousands of young men in London alone at this very moment who
are longing to acquire the ease and <i>aplomb</i> of good society.</p>
<div class="sidenote">The desire to rise deserves encouragement.</div>
<p>The desire is worthy of all encouragement. Only those with real good in
them can feel it. The men who are destitute of it are those who
associate with their inferiors, contentedly accept a low moral standard,
adopt a mode of speech and action that is coarse and rough, and finally
let themselves down to the frequenting of public-houses and places of
amusement, where the entertainment has been carefully planned to suit
the uneducated, the low-born, and others whose vitiated taste leads them
to dislike what is lovely and of good report, and to revel in the
reverse.</p>
<p>But, unfortunately, many a good fellow has been driven to seek
companionship with those beneath him by the very difficulty he
experiences in getting on in society.</p>
<div class="sidenote">Men to be pitied.</div>
<p>He fancies that his small solecisms are the subject of<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_010" id="page_010"></SPAN>{10}</span> observation and
comment, and he suffers agonies of <i>mauvaise honte</i>.</p>
<div class="sidenote">A word to girls.</div>
<p>Girls often laugh very unkindly at shy youths, when they might find
opportunities of acting the good angel to them, and by the exercise of
tact screening from observation those failures in good manners which are
inevitable to the inexperienced. When he finds himself the butt of a few
giggling girls, a young man feels miserably uncomfortable and
humiliated, and he vows to himself that he will never again put himself
in the way of such annoyance. Consequently he cuts good society, not
realising that he would very soon overcome these initial difficulties
and feel at home in it.</p>
<p>He must find amusement somewhere. It is only natural to youth to crave
it. At first his taste is jarred by those inferior to him, and his
fastidiousness offended by their manners.</p>
<div class="sidenote">“We first endure, then pity, then embrace.”</div>
<p>But, such is the fatal adaptability of human nature to what is bad for
it, he soon becomes accustomed to all that he at first objected to, and
even forgets that he had ever found anything disagreeable in it. After a
few months his speech begins to assimilate the errors of those about him
in his leisure hours. He uses the very expressions that jarred upon him
at first. His dress and carriage deteriorate, and he is well on his way<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_011" id="page_011"></SPAN>{11}</span>
downhill in life long before he realises that he has quitted his own
level, probably for ever.</p>
<div class="sidenote">“If he had only held his own!”</div>
<p>And if only he had held his own at a few gatherings, and acquired
experience, even at the cost of a little present pain and mortification,
he would in the same interval of time be enjoying society, educating
himself in its customs, and acquiring that exterior polish which comes
of intimate acquaintance with its rules and ease in practising them.</p>
<p>Should this little manual of manners be of use to any such in enabling
them to master the theory, as it were, of social customs in the educated
classes, it will have attained its aim.</p>
<div class="sidenote">The object of this book.</div>
<p>I have always felt the greatest compassion for young men when first
introduced, after school and college life, to the routine of dinner,
dance, and ball.</p>
<div class="sidenote">Those early days!</div>
<p>I have not forgotten the days when shyness made my own heart sink at the
prospect of a dinner-party and when the hardest task on earth was the
finding of nothings to say to a partner at a ball. It is a miserable
feeling of confusion and <i>gaucherie</i>, and if I can in any way avert it
from others it will be a source of great gratification to me.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_012" id="page_012"></SPAN>{12}</span></p>
<div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />