4-ая ротa АМУ ММФ СССР авг72-дек76 

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(5-тый курс): 

1. Сколько стоила в буфете училища бутылка лимонада/молока с пачкой печенья? 

2. Являлось ли время обучения в АМУ ММФ СССР службой в вооруженных силах де-факто и де-юре?

3. Если курсанты круглосуточно подчинялись командиру роты, который подчинялся, как действующий офицер, министреству обороны, то какому ведомству, министерству подчинялись курсанты?

4. Каков приоритет в учебе имели министерство морского флота и военно-морского флота? Если ММФ говорит иди на занятия, а ВМФ говорит иди в наряд, куда идёт курсант?

5. На какие военно-морские должности и по каким военно-морским специальностям обучались в придачу курсанты?

6. Делались ли записи в трудовую книжку о факте ежедневной 8-часовой оплачиваемой работе за деньги во время плавательской практики или работы в колхозе для начисления пенсии?

7. Какое наказание могло вынести курсанту министерство морского флота и ВМФ на время обучения в училище и на последующие годы после ухода из училища?

8. Какое предписание имели выпускники училища на случай оъявления всеобщей мобилизации?

9. На каком курсе курсанти приняли воинскую присягу?

10. Засчитывалось ли курсантам военно-морских училищ (не училищ формально ММФ) время в училище в срок военской выслуги?

11. Навязывал ли режим после окончания училища принудительные работы чернорабочим, называя это гарантированным предоставлением работы по специальности?

12. Засчитывалось ли в время в училище в стаж для пенсии, если даже по советским законам учеба в учебном заведении засчитывалась, если до этого был трудовой стаж, а курсанты получали трудовой стаж на практике, зарабатывая деньги, с которых шли отчисления в пенсионный фонд, или как он там тогда назывался?

13. Где в Астрахане можно купить хорошей воблы и найти хороший пляж?

14. Засчиталась  ли де-факто или де-юре работа или практика на судах доставляющих боевую технику и боеприпасы в зону боевых действий или не боевых, а просто спишь над трюмом наполненным доверху авиационными бомбами за участие в боевых действиях?

Подрабатывают на на церковь, которая сидит на шее государства и народа или просто симулируют бешенство?

15. П.

...17.  Входило ли училище в систему классификаций министерства образования: высшее, среднее, дневное, заочное или Министерству Морского Флота с Министерством Обороны было наплювавть на министерство образования и их намеклатуру?

19 Почему женщин не принимали в училище? Программа обучения не рассчитана на женщин из-за неадекватной их психики, ограничения умственных способностей, и неспособности выполнять даже элементарные операции матроса при швартовке? Обучение женщин в этом училище является пустой и бессмысленной тратой денег?  ? 

As order or method are of very little consequence in treating of this subject, I will conclude by giving a series of rules upon the art of conversation, couched in a few words, from which the reader may furnish himself with a competent knowledge of what is to be studied, and what to be avoided. There are few of the following sentences that will not furnish a good deal of thought, or that are to be understood to their full extent without some consideration.

Whatever passes in parties at your own or another's house is never repeated by well-bred people. Things of no moment, and which are meant only as harmless jokes, are liable to produce unpleasant consequences if repeated. To repeat, therefore, any conversation which passes on such occasions, is understood to be a breach of confidence, which should banish the offender from the pale of good society.

Men of all sorts of occupations meet in society. As they go there to unbend their minds and escape from the fetters of business, you should never, in an evening, speak to a man about his profession. Do not talk of politics to a journalist, of fevers to a physician, of stocks to a broker,—nor, unless you wish to enrage him to the utmost, of education to a collegian. The error which is here condemned is often committed from mere good nature and a desire to be affable. But it betrays to a gentleman, ignorance of the world,—to a philosopher, ignorance of human nature.

A gentleman will, by all means, avoid showing his learning and accomplishments in the presence of ignorant and vulgar people, who can, by no possibility, understand or appreciate them. It is a pretty sure sign of bad breeding to set people to staring and feeling uncomfortable.

In England, it is regarded a breach of etiquette to repeat the name of any person with whom you are conversing. But the same rule does not hold in America. Here it is deemed no breach, if you are conversing with a lady by the name of Sherwood, to say, "Well, Mrs. Sherwood, do you not think," etc.

In a mixed company, never speak to your friend of a matter which the rest do not understand, unless it is something which you can explain to them, and which may be made interesting to the whole party.

If you wish to inquire about anything, do not do it by asking a question; but introduce the subject, and give the person an opportunity of saying as much as he finds it agreeable to impart. Do not even say, "How is your brother to-day?" but "I hope your brother is quite well."

Never ask a lady a question about anything whatever.

By all means, avoid the use of slang terms and phrases in polite company. No greater insult can be offered to polite society than to repeat the slang dictums of bar-rooms and other low places. If you are willing to have it known that you are familiar with such company yourself, you have no right to treat a party of ladies and gentlemen as though they were, too.

Avoid the habit of employing French words in English conversation; it is extremely bad taste to be always using such expressions as ci-devant, soi-disant, en masse, couleur de rose, etc. Do not salute your acquaintances with bon jour, nor reply to every proposition, volontiers. In society, avoid having those peculiar preferences for some subjects which are vulgarly denominated "hobby-horses." They make your company a bore to all your friends; and some kind-hearted creature will take advantage of them and trot you, for the amusement of the company. Every attempt to obtrude on a company subjects either to which they are indifferent, or of which they are ignorant, is in bad taste.

"Man should be taught as though you taught him not,

And things unknown proposed as things forgot."

A man is quite sure to show his good or bad breeding the instant he opens his mouth to talk in company. If he is a gentleman he starts no subject of conversation that can possibly be displeasing to any person present. The ground is common to all, and no one has a right to monopolize any part of it for his own particular opinions, in politics or religion. No one is there to make proselytes, but every one has been invited, to be agreeable and to please.

He who knows the world, will not be too bashful. He who knows himself, will not be impudent.

Do not endeavor to shine in all companies. Leave room for your hearers to imagine something within you beyond all you have said. And remember, the more you are praised, the more you will be envied.

There is no surer sign of vulgarity than the perpetual boasting of the fine things you have at home. If you speak of your silver, of your jewels, of your costly apparel, it will be taken for a sign that you are either lying, or that you were, not long ago, somebody's washerwoman, and cannot forget to be reminding everybody that you are not so now.

You need not tell all the truth, unless to those who have a right to know it all. But let all you tell be truth.

Insult not another for his want of a talent you possess; he may have others, which you want. Praise your friends and let your friends praise you.

If you treat your inferiors with familiarity, expect the same from them. If you give a jest, take one. Let all your jokes be truly jokes. Jesting sometimes ends in sad earnest.

If a favor is asked of you, grant it, if you can. If not, refuse it in such a manner, as that one denial may be sufficient.

If you are in company with a distinguished gentleman—as a governor, or senator—you will not be perpetually trying to trot out his titles, as it would make you appear like a lackey or parasite, who, conscious of no merits of your own, are trying to lift yourself by the company of others. In introducing such a gentleman, you will merely call him "governor," or "senator," and afterwards avoid all allusion to his rank.

If you would render yourself pleasing in social parties, never speak to gratify any particular vanity or passion of your own, but always aim to interest or amuse others by themes which you know are in accordance with their tastes and understandings. Even a well-bred minister will avoid introducing his professional habits and themes at such places. He knows that the guests were not invited there to listen to a sermon, and there may be some who differ with him in opinions, who would have good reason to feel themselves insulted by being thus forced to listen to him.

Reproof is a medicine like mercury or opium; if it be improperly administered, with report either to the adviser or the advised, it will do harm instead of good.

Nothing is more unmannerly than to reflect on any man's profession, sect, or natural infirmity. He who stirs up against himself another's self-love, provokes the strongest passions in human nature.

Be careful of your word, even in keeping the most trifling appointment. But do not blame another for a failure of that kind, till you have heard his excuse.

Never offer advice, but where there is some probability of its being followed.

If you find yourself in a company which violently abuses an absent friend of yours, you need not feel that you are called upon to take up the club for him. You will do better by saying mildly that they must have been misinformed—that you are proud to call him your friend, which you could not do if you did not know him to be incapable of such things as they had heard. After this, if they are gentlemen, they will stop—indeed, if they had been gentlemen, they would hardly have assailed an absent one in a mixed party; and if you feel constrained to quit their company, it will be no sacrifice to your own self-respect or honor.

Fools pretend to foretell what will be the issue of things, and are laughed at for their awkward conjectures. Wise men, being aware of the uncertainty of human affairs, and having observed how small a matter often produces a great change, are modest in their conjectures.

He who talks too fast, outruns his hearer's thoughts. He who speaks too slow, gives his hearer pain by hindering his thoughts, as a rider who frets his horse by reining him in too much.

Never think to entertain people with what lies out of their way, be it ever so curious in its kind. Who would think of regaling a circle of ladies with the beauties of Homer's Greek, or a mixed company with Sir Isaac Newton's discoveries?

Do well, but do not boast of it. For that will lessen the commendation you might otherwise have deserved.

Never ask a question under any circumstances. In the first place, it is too proud; in the second place, it may be very inconvenient or very awkward to give a reply. A lady inquired of what branch of medical practice a certain gentleman was professor. He held the chair of midwifery!

To offer advice to an angry man, is like blowing against a tempest.

Too much preciseness and solemnity in pronouncing what one says in common conversation, as if one was preaching, is generally taken for an indication of self-conceit and arrogance.

Make your company a rarity, and people will value it. Men despise what they can easily have.

Value truth, however you come by it. Who would not pick up a jewel that lay on a dung-hill?

The beauty of behavior consists in the manner, not the matter of your discourse.

It is not in good taste for a lady to say "Yes, sir," and "No, sir," to a gentleman, or frequently to introduce the word "Sir," at the end of her sentence, unless she desire to be exceedingly reserved toward the person with whom she is conversing.

If your superior treats you with familiarity, it will not therefore become you to treat him in the same manner.

A good way to avoid impertinent and pumping inquiries, is by answering with another question. An evasion may also serve the purpose. But a lie is inexcusable on any occasion, especially when used to conceal the truth from one who has no authority to demand it.

To reprove with success, the following circumstances are necessary, viz.: mildness, secrecy, intimacy, and the esteem of the person you would reprove.

If you be nettled with severe raillery, take care never to show that you are stung, unless you choose to provoke more. The way to avoid being made a butt, is not to set up for an archer.

To set up for a critic is bullying mankind.

Reflect upon the different appearances things make to you from what they did some years ago, and don't imagine that your opinion will never alter, because you are extremely positive at present. Let the remembrance of your past changes of sentiment make you more flexible.

If ever you were in a passion, did you not find reason afterwards to be sorry for it, and will you again allow your self to be guilty of a weakness, which will certainly be in the same manner followed by repentance, besides being attended with pain?

Never argue with any but men of sense and temper.

It is ill-manners to trouble people with talking too much either of yourself, or your affairs. If you are full of yourself, consider that you, and your affairs, are not so interesting to other people as to you.

Keep silence sometimes, upon subjects which you are known to be a judge of. So your silence, where you are ignorant, will not discover you.

To use phrases which admit of a double meaning is ungentlemanly, and, if addressed to a lady, they become positively insulting.

There is a vulgar custom, too prevalent, of calling almost everybody "colonel" in this country, of which it is sufficient to say, that this false use of titles prevails most among the lower ranks of society—a fact which sufficiently stamps upon it its real character, and renders it, to say the least, a doubtful compliment to him who has no right to the title.

Think like the wise; but talk like ordinary people. Never go out of the common road, but for somewhat.

Don't dispute against facts well established, merely because there is somewhat unaccountable in them. That the world should be created of nothing is to us inconceivable but not therefore to be doubted.

As you are going to a party of mirth, think of the hazard you run of misbehaving. While you are engaged, do not wholly forget yourself. And after all is over, reflect how you have behaved. If well, be thankful; it is more than you could have promised. If otherwise, be more careful for the future.

It will never do to be ignorant of the names and approximate ages of great composers, especially in large cities, where music is so highly appreciated and so common a theme. It will be decidedly condemnatory if you talk of the new opera "Don Giovanni," or Rossini's "Trovatore," or are ignorant who composed "Fidelio," and in what opera occur such common pieces as "Ciascun lo dice," or "Il Segreto." I do not say that these trifles are indispensable, and when a man has better knowledge to offer, especially with genius or "cleverness" to back it, he will not only be pardoned for an ignorance of them, but can even take a high tone, and profess indifference or contempt of them. But, at the same time, such ignorance stamps an ordinary man, and hinders conversation.

Don't talk of "the opera" in the presence of those who are not frequenters of it. They will imagine that you are showing off, or that you are lying, and that you have never been to the opera twice in your life. For the same reason, avoid too frequently speaking of your acquaintance with celebrated men, unless you are a public man yourself, who would be supposed to have such acquaintance.

Do not sit dumb in company. That looks either like pride, cunning, or stupidity. Give your opinion modestly, but freely; hear that of others with candor; and ever endeavor to find out, and to communicate truth.

In mixed company, be readier to hear than to speak, and put people upon talking of what is in their own way. For then you will both oblige them, and be most likely to improve by their conversation.

Humanity will direct to be particularly cautious of treating with the least appearance of neglect those who have lately met with misfortunes, and are sunk in life. Such persons are apt to think themselves slighted, when no such thing is intended. Their minds being already sore, feel the least rub very severely. And who would be so cruel as to add affliction to the afflicted?

To smother the generosity of those who have obliged you, is imprudent, as well as ungrateful. The mention of kindnesses received may excite those who hear it to deserve your good word, by imitating the example which they see does others so much honor.

Learning is like bank-notes. Prudence and good behavior are like silver, useful upon all occasions.

If you have been once in company with an idle person, it is enough. You need never go again. You have heard all he knows. And he has had no opportunity of learning anything new. For idle people make no improvements.

Deep learning will make you acceptable to the learned; but it is only an easy and obliging behavior, and entertaining conversation, that will make you agreeable in all companies.

Men repent speaking ten times for once that they repent keeping silence.

It is an advantage to have concealed one's opinion. For by that means you may change your judgment of things (which every wise man finds reason to do) and not be accused of fickleness.

There is hardly any bodily blemish, which a winning behavior will not conceal, or make tolerable; and there is no external grace, which ill-nature or affectation will not deform.

If you mean to make your side of the argument appear plausible, do not prejudice people against what you think truth by your passionate manner of defending it.

There is an affected humility more insufferable than downright pride, as hypocrisy is more abominable than libertinism. Take care that your virtues be genuine and unsophisticated.

Never ask any one who is conversing with you to repeat his words. Nothing is ruder than to say, "Pardon me, will you repeat that sentence? I did not hear you at first," and thus imply that your attention was wandering when he first spoke.

When we speak of ourselves and another person, whether he is absent or present, propriety requires us to mention ourselves last. Thus we should say, he and I, you and I.

If a man is telling that which is as old as the hills, or which you believe to be false, the better way is to let him go on. Why should you refuse a man the pleasure of believing that he is telling you something which you never heard before? Besides, by refusing to believe him, or by telling him that his story is old, you not only mortify him, but the whole company is made uneasy, and, by sympathy, share his mortification.

Never notice it if others make mistakes in language. To notice by word or look such errors in those around you, is excessively ill-bred.

Avoid raillery and sarcasm in social parties. They are weapons which few can use; and because you happen to have a razor in your possession, that is no reason why you should be allowed to cut the throats of the rest who are unarmed. Malicious jests at the expense of those who are present or absent, show that he who uses them is devoid both of the instincts and habits of a gentleman. Where two individuals or the whole company agree to banter each other with good-natured sallies of wit, it is very pleasant, but the least taint of ill-nature spoils all.

If upon the entrance of a visitor you continue a conversation begun before, you should always explain the subject to the new-comer.

If there is any one in the company whom you do not know, be careful how you let off any epigrams or pleasant little sarcasms. You might be very witty upon halters to a man whose father had been hanged. The first requisite for successful conversation is to know your company well.

Carefully avoid subjects which may be construed into personalities, and keep a strict reserve upon family matters. Avoid, if you can, seeing the skeleton in your friend's closet, but if it is paraded for your special benefit, regard it as a sacred confidence, and never betray your knowledge to a third party.

Listen attentively and patiently to what is said. It is a great and difficult talent to be a good listener, but it is one which the well-bred man has to acquire, at whatever pains. Do not anticipate the point of a story which another person is reciting, or take it from his lips to finish it in your own language. To do this is a great breach of etiquette.

Dr. Johnson, whose reputation as a talker was hardly less than that which he acquired as a writer, prided himself on the appositeness of his quotations, the choice of his words, and the correctness of his expressions. Had he lived in this "age of progress," he would have discovered that his lexicon was not only incomplete, but required numerous emendations. We can fancy the irritable moralist endeavoring to comprehend the idea which a young lady wishes to convey when she expresses the opinion that a bonnet is "awful," or that of a young gentleman, when he asserts that his coat is "played out!"

Avoid the use of proverbs in conversation, and all sorts of cant phrases. This error is, I believe, censured by Lord Chesterfield, and is one of the most offensively vulgar which a person can commit.

It is bad manners to satirize lawyers in the presence of lawyers, or doctors in the presence of one of that calling, and so of all the professions. Nor should you rail against bribery and corruption in the presence of politicians, (especially of a New York politician,) or members of Congress, as they will have good reason to suppose that you are hinting at them. It is the aim of politeness to leave the arena of social intercourse untainted with any severity of language, or bitterness of feeling. There are places and occasions where wrong must be exposed and reproved, but it is an unpardonable piece of rudeness to attempt such things at your own or another's social party, where everything is carefully to be avoided that can in the least disturb the happiness of any one. For this reason all kinds of controversies are, as a general rule, to be avoided at such times.

Any conversation (that is not interdicted by decency and propriety) which can be pleasing to the whole company, is desirable. Amusement, more than instruction even, is to be sought for in social parties. People are not supposed to come together on such occasions because they are ignorant and need teaching, but to seek amusement and relaxation from professional and daily cares. All the English books on etiquette tell you that "punning is scrupulously to be avoided as a species of ale-house wit," and a savage remark of Dr. Johnson is usually quoted on the subject. But punning is no more to be avoided than any other kind of wit; and if all wit is to be banished from the social circle, it will be left a stupid affair indeed. All kinds of wit, puns by no means excepted, give a delightful relish to social parties when they spring up naturally and spontaneously out of the themes of conversation. But for a man to be constantly straining himself to make jokes is to make himself ridiculous, and to annoy the whole company, and is, therefore, what no gentleman will be guilty of.

Talk as little of yourself as possible, or of any science or business in which you have acquired fame. There is a banker in New York who is always certain to occupy the time of every party he gets into, by talking of his per cents, and boasting that he began life without a cent—which every one readily believes; and if he were to add that he began life in a pig-pen, they would believe that too.

If you put on a proud carriage, people will want to know what there is in you to be proud of. And it is ten to one whether they value your accomplishments at the same rate as you. And the higher you aspire, they will be the more desirous to mortify you.

Nothing is more nauseous than apparent self-sufficiency. For it shows the company two things, which are extremely disagreeable: that you have a high opinion of yourself, and that you have comparatively a mean opinion of them.

It is the concussion of passions that produces a storm. Let an angry man alone, and he will cool off himself.

It is but seldom that very remarkable occurrences fall out in life. The evenness of your temper will be in most danger of being troubled by trifles which take you by surprise.

It is as obliging in company, especially of superiors, to listen attentively, as to talk entertainingly.

Don't think of knocking out another person's brains, because he differs in opinion from you. It will be as rational to knock yourself on the head, because you differ from yourself ten years ago.

If you want to gain any man's good opinion, take particular care how you behave, the first time you are in company with him. The light you appear in at first, to one who is neither inclined to think well or ill of you, will strongly prejudice him either for or against you.

Good humor is the only shield to keep off the darts of the satirical railer. If you have a quiver well stored, and are sure of hitting him between the joints of the harness, do not spare him. But you had better not bend your bow than miss your aim.

The modest man is seldom the object of envy.

In the company of ladies, do not labor to establish learned points by long-winded arguments. They do not care to take too much pains to find out truth.

You will forbear to interrupt a person who is telling a story, even though he is making historical mistakes in dates and facts. If he makes mistakes it is his own fault, and it is not your business to mortify him by attempting to correct his blunders in presence of those with whom he is ambitious to stand well.

In a dispute, if you cannot reconcile the parties, withdraw from them. You will surely make one enemy, perhaps two, by taking either side in an argument when the speakers have lost their temper.

Do not dispute in a party of ladies and gentlemen. If a gentleman advances an opinion which is different from ideas you are known to entertain, either appear not to have heard it, or differ with him as gently as possible. You will not say, "Sir, you are mistaken!" "Sir, you are wrong!" or that you "happen to know better;" but you will rather use some such phrase as, "Pardon me—if I am not mistaken," etc. This will give him a chance to say some such civil thing as that he regrets to disagree with you; and if he has not the good manners to do it, you have, at any rate, established your own manners as those of a gentleman in the eyes of the company. And when you have done that, you need not trouble yourself about any opinions he may advance contrary to your own.

If you talk sentences, do not at the same time give yourself a magisterial air in doing it. An easy conversation is the only agreeable one, especially in mixed company.

Be sure of the fact, before you lose time in searching for a cause.

If you have a friend that will reprove your faults and foibles, consider you enjoy a blessing, which the king upon the throne cannot have.

In disputes upon moral or scientific points, ever let your aim be to come at truth, not to conquer your opponent. So you never shall be at a loss in losing the argument, and gaining a new discovery.

What may be very entertaining in company with ignorant people, may be tiresome to those who know more of the matter than yourself.

There is a sort of accidental and altogether equivocal type of city women, who never get into the country, but they employ their time in trying to astonish the country people with narrations of the fine things they left behind them in the city. If they have a dirty little closet, with ten valueless books in it, they will call it their library. If they have some small room, that is used as kitchen, parlor, and dining-room, they will magnify it into a drawing-room. And a hundred other little signs of their great vulgarity they will constantly insist on exhibiting to their country auditors.

Put yourself on the same level as the person to whom you speak, and under penalty of being considered a pedantic idiot, refrain from explaining any expression or word that you may use.

If you are really a wit, remember that in conversation its true office consists more in finding it in others, than showing off a great deal of it yourself. He who goes out of your company pleased with himself is sure to be pleased with you. Even as great a man as Dr. Johnson once retired from a party where everybody had spent the evening in listening to him, and remarked, as he went out, "We have had a pleasant evening, and much excellent conversation."

If you happen to fall into company where the talk runs into party, obscenity, scandal, folly, or vice of any kind, you had better pass for morose or unsocial, among people whose good opinion is not worth having, than shock your own conscience by joining in conversation which you must disapprove of.

If you would have a right account of things from illiterate people, let them tell their story in their own way. If you put them upon talking according to logical rules, you will quite confound them.

I was much pleased with the saying of a gentleman, who was engaged in a friendly argument with another upon a point in morals. "You and I [says he to his antagonist] seem, as far as I hitherto understand, to differ considerably in our opinions. Let us, if you please, try wherein we can agree." The scheme in most disputes is to try who shall conquer, or confound the other. It is therefore no wonder that so little light is struck out in conversation, where a candid inquiry after truth is the least thing thought of.

By all means, shun the vulgar habit of joking at the expense of women. All such tricks as refusing a lady a piece of tongue, because "women already have tongue enough," are as vulgar as they are old and stale. The man who does not respect woman, exposes himself to the suspicion of associating generally with the fallen portion of the sex. And besides, he has no right to make a respectable parlor or drawing-room the theater of such vulgar jokes and railing against the sex as go down in low society.

If a man complains to you of his wife, a woman of her husband, a parent of a child, or a child of a parent, be very cautious how you meddle between such near relations, to blame the behavior of one to the other. You will only have the hatred of both parties, and do no good with either. But this does not hinder your giving both parties, or either, your best advice in a prudent manner.

Be prudently secret. But don't affect to make a secret of what all the world may know, nor give yourself airs of being as close as a conspirator. You will better disappoint idle curiosity by seeming to have nothing to conceal.

Never blame a friend without joining some commendation to make reproof go down.

It is by giving free rein to folly, in conversation and action, that people expose themselves to contempt and ridicule. The modest man may deprive himself of some part of the applause of some sort of people in conversation, by not shining altogether so much as he might have done. Or he may deprive himself of some lesser advantages in life by his reluctancy in putting himself forward. But it is only the rash and impetuous talker, or actor, that effectually exposes himself in company, or ruins himself in life. It is therefore easy to determine which is the safest side to err on.

It is a base temper in mankind, that they will not take the smallest slight at the hand of those who have done them the greatest kindness.

If you fall into the greatest company, in a natural and unforced way, look upon yourself as one of them; and do not sneak, nor suffer any one to treat you unworthily, without just showing that you know behavior. But if you see them disposed to be rude, overbearing, or purse-proud, it will be more decent and less troublesome to retire, than to wrangle with them.

There cannot be any practice more offensive than that of taking a person aside to whisper in a room with company; yet this rudeness is of frequent occurrence—and that with those who know it to be improper.

If at any time you chance, in conversation, to get on a side of an argument which you find not to be tenable, or any other way over-shoot yourself, turn off the subject in as easy and good humored a way as you can. If you proceed still, and endeavor, right or wrong, to make your first point good, you will only entangle yourself the more, and in the end expose yourself.

Never over-praise any absent person, especially ladies, in company of ladies. It is the way to bring envy and hatred upon those whom you wish well to.

To try whether your conversation is likely to be acceptable to people of sense, imagine what you say written down, or printed, and consider how it would read; whether it would appear natural, improving and entertaining; or affected, unmeaning, or mischievous.

It is better, in conversation with positive men, to turn off the subject in dispute with some merry conceit, than keep up the contention to the disturbance of the company.

Don't give your advice upon any extraordinary emergency, nor your opinion upon any difficult point, especially in company of eminent persons, without first taking time to deliberate. If you say nothing, it may not be known whether your silence was owing to the ignorance of the subject, or to modesty. If you give a rash and crude opinion, you are effectually and irrecoverably exposed.

If you fill your fancy, while you are in company, with suspicions of their thinking meanly of you; if you puff yourself up with imaginations of appearing to them a very witty, or profound person; if you discompose yourself with fears of misbehaving before them, or in any way put yourself out of yourself, you will not appear in your natural color, but in that of an affected, personated character, which is always disagreeable.

It may be useful to study, at leisure, a variety of proper phrases for such occasions as are most frequent in life, as civilities to superiors, expressions of kindness to inferiors; congratulations, condolence, expressions of gratitude, acknowledgment of faults, asking or denying of favors, etc. I prescribe no particular phrases, because, our language continually fluctuating, they must soon become stiff and unfashionable. The best method of acquiring the accomplishment of graceful and easy manner of expression for the common occasions of life, is attention and imitation of well-bred people. Nothing makes a man appear more contemptible than barrenness, pedantry, or impropriety of expression.

Avoid flattery. A delicate compliment is permissible in conversation, but flattery is broad, coarse, and to sensible people, disgusting. If you flatter your superiors, they will distrust you, thinking you have some selfish end; if you flatter ladies, they will despise you, thinking you have no other conversation.

If you meet an ill-bred fellow in company, whose voice and manners are offensive to you, you cannot resent it at the time, because by so doing you compel the whole company to be spectators of your quarrel, and the pleasure of the party would be spoiled.

If you must speak upon a difficult point, be the last speaker if you can.

You will not be agreeable to company, if you strive to bring in or keep up a subject unsuitable to their capacities, or humor.

You will never convince a man of ordinary sense by overbearing his understanding. If you dispute with him in such a manner as to show a due deference for his judgment, your complaisance may win him, though your saucy arguments could not.

Avoid appearing dogmatical and too positive in any assertions you make, which can possibly be subject to any contradiction. He that is peremptory in his own story, may meet with another as positive as himself to contradict him, and then the two Sir Positives will be sure to have a skirmish.

The frequent use of the name of God, or the Devil; allusions to passages of Scripture; mocking at anything serious and devout, oaths, vulgar by-words, cant phrases, affected hard words, when familiar terms will do as well; scraps of Latin, Greek or French; quotations from plays spoke in a theatrical manner—all these, much used in conversation, render a person very contemptible to grave and wise men.

If you send people away from your company well-pleased with themselves, you need not fear but they will be well enough pleased with you, whether they have received any instruction from you or not. Most people had rather be pleased than instructed.

If you can express yourself to be perfectly understood in ten words, never use a dozen. Go not about to prove, by a long series of reasoning, what all the world is ready to own.

If any one takes the trouble of finding fault with you, you ought in reason to suppose he has some regard for you, else he would not run the hazard of disobliging you, and drawing upon himself your hatred.

Do not ruffle or provoke any man; why should any one be the worse for coming into company with you? Be not yourself provoked. Why should you give any man the advantage over you?

To say that one has opinions very different from those commonly received, is saying that he either loves singularity, or that he thinks for himself. Which of the two is the case, can only be found by examining the grounds of his opinions.

Don't appear to the public too sure, or too eager upon any project. If it should miscarry, which it is a chance but it does, you will be laughed at. The surest way to prevent which, is not to tell your designs or prospects in life.

For common conversation, men of ordinary abilities will upon occasion do well enough. And you may always pick something out of any man's discourse, by which you may profit. For an intimate friend to improve by, you must search half a country over, and be glad if you can find him at last.

Don't give your time to every superficial acquaintance: it is bestowing what is to you of inestimable worth, upon one who is not likely to be the better for it.

If a person has behaved to you in an unaccountable manner, don't at once conclude him a bad man, unless you find his character given up by all who know him, nor then, unless the facts alleged against him be undoubtedly proved, and wholly inexcusable. But this is not advising you to trust a person whose character you have any reason to suspect. Nothing can be more absurd than the common way of fixing people's characters. Such a one has disobliged me, therefore he is a villain. Such another has done me a kindness, therefore he is a saint.

Superficial people are more agreeable the first time you are in their company, than ever afterwards. Men of judgment improve every succeeding conversation; beware therefore of judging by one interview.

You will not anger a man so much by showing him that you hate him, as by expressing a contempt of him.

Most women had rather have any of their good qualities slighted, than their beauty. Yet that is the most inconsiderable accomplishment of a woman of real merit.

You will be always reckoned by the world nearly of the same character with those whose company you keep.

You will please so much the less, if you go into company determined to shine. Let your conversation appear to rise out of thoughts suggested by the occasion, not strained or premeditated: nature always pleases: affectation is always odious. 

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THE ART OF CONVERSATION.

"A bad manner spoils everything, even reason and justice; a good one supplies everything, gilds a No, sweetens a truth, and adds a touch of beauty to old age itself." BG

As the object of conversation is pleasure and improvement, those subjects only which are of universal interest can be made legitimate topics of pleasantry or discussion. And it is the gift of expressing thoughts and fancies in a quick, brilliant, and graceful manner on such topics,—of striking out new ideas, eliciting the views and opinions of others, of attaching the interest of all to the subject discussed, giving it, however trifling in itself, weight and importance in the estimation of the hearers, that constitutes the great talent for conversation. But this talent can never, we may safely aver, be displayed except in a good cause, and when conversation is carried on in a spirit of genuine charity and benevolence.

We should meet in society to please and be pleased, and not to display cold and stately dignity, which is as much out of place, as all attempts to shine by a skillful adherence to the fantastic rules of the silver-fork school, are puerile and ludicrous. Such little things are great to little persons, who are proud of having acquired by rote, what the naturally elegant derive, in sufficient measure, from naturally just feeling.

The power of preserving silence is the very first requisite to all who wish to shine, or even please in discourse; and those who cannot preserve it, have really no business to speak. Of course, I do not mean the dull, ignorant, sulky, or supercilious silence, of which we see enough in all conscience; but the graceful, winning and eloquent silence. The silence that, without any deferential air, listens with polite attention, is more flattering than compliments, and more frequently broken for the purpose of encouraging others to speak, than to display the listener's own powers. This is the really eloquent silence. It requires great genius—more perhaps than speaking—and few are gifted with the talent; but it is of such essential advantage, that I must recommend its study to all who are desirous to take a share in conversation, and beg they will learn to be silent, before they attempt to speak.

Notwithstanding the praise here bestowed on silence, it must still be explained that there are various modes of being silently rude. There is the rude silence of disdain—of not hearing, of not even deeming your words deserving attention or reply. These are minor and mere passive modes of impertinence; the direct and active sort of silent rudeness is to listen with a fixed and attentive stare on the speaker, and without any necessity of raising the eyebrows—for that might be precarious—show your utter amazement, that any one should think of thus addressing a person of your rank, wealth, genius, or greatness. There are of course various styles and degrees in all these modes of impertinence, but they all originate in the same cause: ignorance of the real facility of being rude, and a wish to acquire distinction by the practice. It is idle to assert that every one can be rude if he likes; for, if such were the fact, we should not see hosts of persons belonging to what is termed good society, seeking fame and renown by various shades and degrees of mere impertinence.

Never give short or sharp answers in ordinary conversation, unless you aspire to gain distinction by mere rudeness; for they have in fact no merit, and are only uncivil. "I do not know," "I cannot tell," are the most harmless words possible, and may yet be rendered very offensive by the tone and manner in which they are pronounced. Never reply, in answer to a question like the following, "Did Mrs. Spitewell tell you how Miss Rosebud's marriage was getting on?" "I did not ask." It is almost like saying, I never ask impertinent questions, though you do; we learn plenty of things in the world without having first inquired about them. If you must say, you did not ask, say, that "you forgot to ask," "neglected it," or "did not think of it." We can always be ordinarily civil, even if we cannot always be absolutely wise.

Except in mere sport and raillery, and where a little extravaganza is the order of the moment, always when you answer, or speak in reply to an observation made, speak to the true and just import of what is said. Leave quibbling of every kind to lawyers pleading at the bar for the life of a culprit; in society and conversation it is invariably out of place, unless when Laughter is going his merry round. At all other times it is a proof of bad breeding.

You must not overstretch a proposition, neither must you overstretch or spin out a jest, that has done its duty; for few can be made to rebound after they have once come to the ground.

Another mode of being rude, is to collect, and have at command, all the set phrases used by uncivil persons, in order to say what they fancy very sharp and severe things. Such a collector, jealous perhaps of the attention with which a pleasant guest is listened to, may break in upon the most harmless discourse with the words, "I think you lie under a mistake." The term may in itself be harmless, but its application is at all times rude, coarse and decidedly vulgar.

La Bruyère tells us that "rudeness is not a fixed and inherent vice of the mind, but the result of other vices; it springs," he says, "from vanity, ignorance, laziness, stupidity, jealousy, and inattention. It is the more hateful from being constantly displayed in exterior deportment and from being thus always visible and manifest; and is offensive in character and degree according to the source from which it takes its rise."

We next come to the loud talker, the man who silences a whole party by his sole power of lungs. All subjects are alike to him; he speaks on every topic with equal fluency, is never at a loss, quotes high authority for every assertion, and allows no one else to utter a word; he silences, without the least ceremony, every attempt at interruption, however cleverly managed;—calls out, "I beg your pardon," in a tone that shows how ill-used he thinks himself,—or shuts your mouth with—"One minute, if you please, sir!" as much as to say, you are surely a very ill-bred fellow. Great, and especially loud and positive talkers, have been denounced by all writers on manners as shallow and superficial persons. And P. André, the author of a French Essay on the Beautiful, declares distinctly, that "no man of sense was ever a great talker."

Next to the talker, we have the man who gives an account of his dogs, horses, lands, books, and pictures. Whatever is his, must, he thinks, interest others; and listen they must, however resolutely they may attempt to change the current of his discourse.

Women of this class are sometimes too fond of praising their children. It is no doubt an amiable weakness; but I would still advise them to indulge as little as possible in the practice; for however dear the rosy-cheeked, curly-headed prattlers may be to them, the chances are, that others will vote the darlings to be great bores; you that have children, never speak of them in company. You must not even praise your near relations; for the subject deprives the hearer of all power to dissent, and is therefore clearly objectionable.

In the same line is the clever bore, who takes up every idle speech, to show his wisdom at a cheap rate. If you say, "Hang the weather!" before such a man, he immediately proves, by logical demonstrations, that the weather has no neck by which it can be suspended. The grave expounder of truisms belongs to this class. He cannot allow the simplest conversation to go on, without entering into proofs and details familiar to every child nine years of age; and the tenor of his discourse, however courteous in terms and manner, pays you the very indifferent compliment, of supposing that you have fallen from some other planet, in total and absolute ignorance of the most ordinary and every-day things connected with this little world of ours. All foreigners are particularly great at this style of boring.

Then you have the indifferent and apathetic bore, who hardly condescends to pay the least attention to what you say; and who, if he refrains from the direct and absolute rudeness of yawning in your face, shows, by short and drawling answers, given at fits and starts, and completely at variance with the object of the conversation, that he affects at least a total indifference to the party present, and to the subject of discourse. In society, the absent man is uncivil; he who affects to be so, is rude and vulgar. All persons who speak of their ailings, diseases, or bodily infirmities, are offensive bores. Subjects of this sort should be addressed to doctors, who are paid for listening to them, and to no one else. Bad taste is the failing of these bores. Then we have the ladies and gentlemen who pay long visits, and who, meeting you at the door prepared to sally forth, keep you talking near the fire till the beauty of the day is passed; and then take their leave, "hoping they have not detained you." Bad feeling or want of tact here predominates.

"Hobby-riders," who constantly speak on the same eternal subject,—who bore you at all times and at all hours,—whether you are in health or in sickness, in spirits or in sorrow, with the same endless topic, must not be overlooked in our list; though it is sufficient to denounce them. Their failing is occasioned by a total want of judgment.

The Malaprops are also a numerous and unhappy family, for they are constantly addressing the most unsuitable speeches to individuals or parties. To the blind they will speak of fine pictures and scenery; and will entertain a person in deep mourning with the anticipated pleasures of to-morrow's ball. A total want of ordinary thought and observation, is the general cause of the Malaprop failing.

Let us add to this very imperfect list the picture of a bore described by Swift. "Nothing," he says, "is more generally exploded than the folly of talking too much; yet I rarely remember to have seen five people together, where some one among them hath not been predominant in that kind, to the great constraint and disgust of all the rest. But among such as deal in multitudes of words, none are comparable to the sober, deliberate talker, who proceedeth with much thought and caution, maketh his preface, brancheth out into several digressions, findeth a hint that putteth him in mind of another story, which he promises to tell you when this is done, cometh back regularly to his subject, cannot readily call to mind some person's name, holdeth his head, complaineth of his memory; the whole company all this while in suspense; at last says, it is no matter, and so goes on. And to crown the business, it perhaps proveth at last a story the company has heard fifty times before, or at best some insipid adventure of the relater."

To this we may add, that your cool, steady talkers, who speak with the care and attention of professors demonstrating mathematical problems,—who weigh, measure and balance every word they utter,—are all decided objectionables in society. It is needless to say, that such persons never blunder, and never "stumble over a potato;" a matter of little recommendation. In conversation there must be, as in love and in war, some hazarding, some rattling on; nor need twenty falls affect you, so long as you take cheerfulness and good humor for your guides; but the careful and measured conversation just described is always, though perfectly correct, extremely dull and tedious—a vast blunder from first to last.

There are also many persons who commence speaking before they know what they are going to say. The ill-natured world, who never miss an opportunity of being severe, declare them to be foolish and destitute of brains. I shall not go so far; but hardly know what we should think of a sportsman who would attempt to bring down a bird before he had loaded his gun.

I have purposely reserved the egotistical bore for the last on this short and imperfect list. It is truly revolting, indeed, to approach the very Boa-constrictor of good society; the snake who comes upon us, not in the natural form of a huge, coarse, slow reptile, but Proteus-like, in a thousand different forms; though all displaying at the first sight the boa-bore, ready to slime over every subject of discourse with the vile saliva of selfish vanity. Pah! it is repulsive even to speak of the species, numerous, too, as the sands along the shore.

Some of the class make no ceremony of immediately intruding themselves and their affairs on the attention of a whole party; of silencing every other subject started, however interesting to the company, merely that they may occupy the prominent and most conspicuous position. Others again are more dexterous, and with great art will lie on the watch to hook in their own praise. They will call a witness to remember they always foretold what would happen in such a case, but none would believe them; they advised such a man from the beginning, and told him the consequences just as they happened; but he would have his own way. Others make a vanity of telling their own faults; they are the strangest men in the world; they cannot dissemble; they own it is a folly; they have lost abundance of advantages by it; but if you would give them the world, they cannot help it; there is something in their nature that abhors insincerity and constraint, with many other insufferable topics of the same altitude. Thus, though bores find their account in speaking ill or well of themselves, it is the characteristic of a gentleman that he never speaks of himself at all.

La Bruyère says, "The great charm of conversation consists less in the display of one's own wit and intelligence, than in the power to draw forth the resources of others; he who leaves you after a long conversation, pleased with himself and the part he has taken in the discourse, will be your warmest admirer. Men do not care to admire you, they wish you to be pleased with them; they do not seek for instruction or even amusement from your discourse, but they do wish you to be made acquainted with their talents and powers of conversation; and the true man of genius will delicately make all who come in contact with him feel the exquisite satisfaction of knowing that they have appeared to advantage."

I have no desire to condemn my readers to eternal silence; but must inform them that it is not so easy to shine in conversation as many suppose. Fluency of tongue and a little modest assurance, though very well for imposing on the unwary, go but a short way when you have to deal with those who are really worth pleasing.

How can a person shine by conversation in elegant and educated society, whose thoughts have never ranged beyond the gratification of foolish vanity and mean selfishness; who has never reflected on life, men and manners; whose mind has not turned to the contemplation of the works and wonders of nature; and who, in the events of his own time, has not seen the results of the many deeds of sorrow, shame, greatness, and glory, that crowd the pages of the world's variegated annals? Whoever would shine in polite discourse must at least be well versed in the philosophy of life, and possess a fair acquaintance with general and natural history, and the outlines of science. And though he need be neither a poet nor an artist, he must be well read in poetry and acquainted with fine arts; because it is only by their study that taste can be cultivated and fancy guided. A familiarity with the fine arts is necessary, in fact, to give him a just perception of the sublime and beautiful, the very foundation whence our emotions of delight must arise. Any one attempting to shine in conversation, without possessing the trifling acquirements here mentioned,—for I have said nothing of learning and science,—will most assuredly make an indifferent figure, and had better therefore content himself with simply pleasing by unaffected cheerfulness and good humor, which is within reach of all.

As to subjects for conversation, what difficulty can there be about them? Will not books, balls, bonnets and metaphysics furnish pleasant topics of discourse? Can you not speak of the

"Philosophy and science, and the springs

Of wonder, and the wisdom of the world?"—

Are flirtations, traveling, love and speech-making at an end; or is the great globe itself and the weather on its surface so perfectly stationary that you can find nothing to say about them? No, no, let us not deceive ourselves; we never want subjects of conversation; but we often want the knowledge how to treat them; above all, how to bring them forward in a graceful and pleasing manner. We often want observation and a just estimate of character, and do not know how, in the present defective state of society, any passing remark intended to open a conversation may be received.

Cheerfulness, unaffected cheerfulness, a sincere desire to please and be pleased, unchecked by any efforts to shine, are the qualities you must bring with you into society, if you wish to succeed in conversation. Under the influence of their recommendation, you may safely give the rein to fancy and hilarity, certain that, in a well-assorted party, you will make at least a favorable impression, if not a brilliant one. I do not of course mean by cheerfulness any outbreaking of loud and silly mirth, nor what the world sometimes calls a "high flow of spirits," but a light and airy equanimity of temper,—that spirit which never rises to boisterousness, and never sinks to immovable dullness; that moves gracefully from "grave to gay, from serious to serene," and by mere manner gives proof of a feeling heart and generous mind.

Franklin says, that you must never contradict in conversation, nor correct facts if wrongly stated. This is going much too far; you must never contradict in a short, direct, or positive tone; but with politeness, you may easily, when necessary, express a difference of opinion in a graceful and even complimentary manner. And I would almost say, that the art of conversation consists in knowing how to contradict, and when to be silent; for, as to constantly acting a fawning and meanly deferential part in society, it is offensive to all persons of good sense and good feeling. In regard to facts wrongly stated, no well-bred man ever thinks of correcting them, merely to show his wisdom in trifles; but with politeness, it is perfectly easy to rectify an error, when the nature of the conversation demands the explanation.

Whenever the lady or gentleman with whom you are discussing a point, whether of love, war, science or politics, begins to sophisticate, drop the subject instantly. Your adversary either wants the ability to maintain his opinion,—and then it would be uncivil to press it—or he wants the still more useful ability to yield the point with unaffected grace and good-humor; or what is also possible, his vanity is in some way engaged in defending views on which he may probably have acted, so that to demolish his opinions is perhaps to reprove his conduct, and no well-bred man goes into society for the purpose of sermonizing.

All local wits, all those whose jests are understood only within the range of their own circle or coterie, are decided objectionables in general society. It is the height of ill-breeding, in fact, to converse, or jest, on subjects that are not perfectly understood by the party at large; it is a species of rude mystification, as uncivil as whispering, or as speaking in language that may not be familiar to some of the party. But you must not make a fool of yourself, even if others show themselves deficient in good manners; and must not, like inflated simpletons, fancy yourself the object of every idle jest you do not understand, or of every laugh that chance may have called forth. Ladies and gentlemen feel that they are neither laughed at nor ridiculed.

In society, the object of conversation is of course entertainment and improvement, and it must, therefore, be adapted to the circle in which it is carried on, and must be neither too high nor too deep for the party at large, so that every one may contribute his share, just at his pleasure, and to the best of his ability. Let no two or three old Indians, old school-fellows, or old brother campaigners, seize upon the conversation to themselves, discuss their former adventures, and keep the rest of a party listening silently to an animated conversation about exploded stories, of which they know nothing and care as little.

Lord Chesterfield advises his son "to speak often, but not to speak much at a time; so that if he does not please, he will not at least displease to any great extent." A good observer should easily, I think, be able to discover whether he pleases or not.

Rousseau tells us, that "persons who know little talk a great deal, while those who know a great deal say very little."

If the discourse is of a grave or serious nature, and interesting to the party, or to any number of the party, never break in upon it with any display of idle wit or levity; for nothing shows so great a want of good manners; nor must you ever ridicule or doubt the existence of any noble enthusiasm that may have called forth expressions of admiration; for there is no want of high worth, patriotism, honor and disinterestedness on earth. Your incredulity might therefore be unjust, and it is at all times a proof of bad taste to ridicule what others admire.

If you join in the graver conversation, intended to move the deeper feelings of the heart, do so without affectation, without overstretching sentiments, or bringing in far-fetched ideas for the sake of producing effect, otherwise you will be sure to fail. Avoid, above all, when on such topics, any stringing together of unmeaning words; for bad as the practice of substituting sound for sense is at all times, it is doubly so when conversation takes the direction of which we are speaking, as it then shows the jingler to want feelings as well as ideas. Speak from the heart, when you speak to the heart; only making judgment prune the expressions of deep feeling, without checking the noble sentiments that may have called them forth.

The reason which renders this pruning system advisable is, that society swarms with worthy, respectable persons, possessing an ordinary share of superficial good-nature, but so destitute of actual feeling, as not even to understand its language; and who, without being scoffers, will be inclined to laugh at expressions that convey no ideas to their minds.

The same reason should serve as a warning to all gentlemen against writing love-letters; for if a gentle swain is really and truly in love, he will write under excited feelings; and a letter written with a palpitating heart, threatening to break a rib at every throb, can hardly fail to appear a little ridiculous in the eyes of all who may not chance to be exactly in the same frame of mind, or possessed of the same degree of feeling with the writer.

There is a giggling and laughing tone, in which ladies and gentlemen sometimes endeavor to speak,—an attempt to continue a series of jests from the first to last, which is not only foolish, but actually offensive. Conversation can never be kept up to the laughing point during a whole evening,—not even during a morning visit; and efforts to excite laughter by overstrained jests are as repulsive as overstrained efforts to groan and grimace it. The natural flow of discourse must be calm and serene; if wit, whim, fun and fire are present, they will not fail to flash brightly along its surface; but they can never constitute the main body of the stream itself.

Different parties, different tones no doubt, and an assembly of grave doctors and professors, meeting to discuss some learned subject, may treat it in their own way; here we can only speak of general society. It is said, that the guests at a pleasant dinner party should never exceed the number of the Muses, nor fall below that of the Graces. And this may be true; but a party of three or four is already very different in character,—independent of the difference occasioned by the characters of the guests,—from what a party of eight or nine will be. In small parties of this kind, numbers alone exercise great influence. But large or small, always recollect that you can have no right to complain of the dullness of the conversation, unless you have contributed your best efforts to render it cheerful.

Nor is it always right to condemn a person for being silent in company, as this often results from the nature of the party, which may be ill-assorted, though composed of deserving people. No one can maintain a conversation by himself; the very best speaker must still be aided by others, who must lend assistance in the proper spirit, befitting the nature of the discourse; for a rude and forward person, wishing to shine, can easily crush the efforts of the most perfect gentleman, and give an unfavorable tone and turn to a pleasant conversation.

In ordinary conversation, the modulation and proper management of the voice is a point to which I would particularly call the attention of young ladies; for a fine and melodious voice, "sweet as music on the waters," makes the heart-strings vibrate to their very core. This can only be done by a certain degree of confidence, and by a total absence of affectation; for uncertainty, agitation and striving for effect are always ruinous to the voice of the speaker, which is constantly running against breakers, or getting upon flats. I am certain that temper and disposition are far more generally, and more perfectly marked by the voice and manner of speaking, than we are at all willing to allow.

The thin, small voice is the most difficult to manage, as it is liable to degenerate into shrillness; and ladies who have this kind of voice must keep strict guard over their temper, when within hearing of any one on whom they may wish to make a favorable impression; for the very idea of a shrill-voiced scold makes us place our hands to our ears. But with a sweet temper, a pretty, little, harmonious voice is pleasing enough. Always recollect, however, that affectation, constraint, or striving for effect, is the certain ruin of the prettiest voice in the world.

The very deep-toned voice, though extremely effective when well controlled, has great difficulties; for unless backed by kind, cheerful and airy feeling, by "that bright spirit which is always gladness," it is liable to fall into a coarse, rude and vulgar tone, and should never be heard except at times of brilliant sunshine. The owners of such voices should never think of getting angry, nor even indulge in saying what they may fancy sharp or severe things, as the chances are that they will prove only rude ones.

Stories, however good—and they are often to be recommended—suffer under one of the disadvantages to which anecdotes are liable,—they do not bear repetition; and no one can be expected to possess a stock that shall furnish new and acceptable wares on every occasion. They form in conversation the resource of those who want imagination, and must be received with indulgence; but to deserve this favor, they must be short, well told, well pointed, and judiciously adapted to the feelings and composition of the party. We have all of us at times known a good story or anecdote introduced under such inappropriate circumstances, as to make a whole party look grave and feel uncomfortable.

The honor of demolishing the weavers of long tales shall be left to Cowper.

"But sedentary weavers of long tales

Give me the fidgets, and my patience fails.

'Tis the most asinine employ on earth,

To hear them tell of parentage and birth;

And echo conversations dull and dry,

Embellished with he said and so said I.

At every interview their route the same,

The repetition makes attention lame;

We bristle up with unsuccessful speed,

And in the saddest part, cry—Droll, indeed."

Let the reader only get these verses by heart, and repeat a line occasionally to show that he recollects them, and we shall soon find society relieved from these spinners of dull yarns.

Some gentlemen have a talent for placing things in a grotesque, exaggerated and ludicrous light; and of extemporizing burlesque anecdotes in a whimsical and amusing manner. It is a happy gift, of which excellent use can be made in society; but tact and taste must, as usual, keep a firm rein, for nothing that is seriously treated by others must ever be burlesqued and turned into ridicule. The grotesque style is only applicable when the ground is fairly open, or when jesting, bantering and exaggeration are the order of the minute; and then it may be rendered charming.

Let no one suppose that mimicry is to be sanctioned under this head; far from it, indeed. A little graceful imitation of actors and public speakers may be allowed. National manners, and the peculiarities of entire classes, are fair game. French dandies, Yankee bargainers, and English exquisites, may be ridiculed at pleasure; you may even bring forward Irish porters, cab-drivers and bog-trotters,—provided you can imitate their wit and humor; but I do not think I ever saw any mimicry of private individuals well received by well-bred persons. Nor is this to be wondered at, since mimicry borders so closely on buffoonery, as generally to end in absolute vulgarity. Ladies, however, may be permitted to mimic their friends a little, provided they rarely indulge in the practice, and never transgress the bounds of good taste and elegance.

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На следующей фотографии запечатлены курсанты пятой группы 4 роты, за исключением пяти. Что такое компоновка фотографии?

Чем отличается татуировка от вандализма над собственным телом, как доказательство дефектных мозгов?

Какие формы вандализма над собственными мозгами вы знаете?

Кто жил в кубрике 408? Первые девять по алфавитному списку курсантов пятой группы за исключением трех. Кто?

ON DRESS.

It is hardly necessary to remind the reader that dress, though often considered a trifling matter, is one of considerable importance, for a man's personal appearance is a sort of "index and obscure prologue" to his character.

Lord Chesterfield has said, "I cannot help forming some opinion of a man's sense and character from his dress." Besides, the appearance of a well-dressed man commands a certain degree of respect which would never be shown to a sloven. As Shakspeare has written, "The world is still deceived by ornament;" and there are those who associate fine clothes with fine people so strongly, that they do not trouble themselves to ascertain whether the wearers are worthy of respect, as others form their opinions of books by the gilding of the leaves and beauty of the binding.

The dress of a gentleman should be such as not to excite any special observation, unless it be for neatness and propriety. The utmost care should be exercised to avoid even the appearance of desiring to attract attention by the peculiar formation of any article of attire, or by the display of an immoderate quantity of jewelry, both being a positive evidence of vulgarity. His dress should be studiously neat, leaving no other impression than that of a well-dressed gentleman.

Well-bred people do not often dress in what is called the "height of the fashion," as that is generally left to dandies and pretenders. But still it is undoubtedly a great point gained to be well dressed. To be fancifully dressed, in gaudy colors, is to be very badly dressed, however, and is an example of ill taste which is rarely met with among people of substantial good breeding.

Cleanliness and neatness are the invariable accompaniments of good breeding. Every gentleman may not be dressed expensively, he may not be able to do so; but water is cheap, and no gentleman will ever go into company unmindful of cleanliness either in his person or apparel.

A well-dressed man does not require so much an extensive as a varied wardrobe. He wants a different costume for every season and every occasion; but if what he selects is simple rather than striking, he may appear in the same clothes as often as he likes, as long as they are fresh and appropriate to the season and the object. There are four kinds of coats which he must have: a business coat, a frock-coat, a dress-coat, and an over-coat. A well dressed man may do well with four of the first, and one of each of the others per annum. An economical man can get along with less.

Did any lady ever see a gentleman with an embroidered waistcoat, and a profusion of chains, rings, and trinkets adorning his person?

Avoid affecting singularity in dress. Expensive dressing is no sign of a gentleman. If a gentleman is able to dress expensively it is very well for him to do so, but if he is not able to wear ten-dollar broadcloth, he may comfort himself with the reflection that cloth which costs but five dollars a yard will look quite as well when made into a well-fitting coat. With this suit, and well-made shoes, clean gloves, a white pocket-handkerchief, and an easy and graceful deportment withal, he may pass muster as a gentleman. Manners do quite as much to set off a suit of clothes as clothes do to set off a graceful person.

A dress perfectly suited to a tall, good-looking man, may render one who is neither, ridiculous; as although the former may wear a remarkable waistcoat or singular coat, almost with impunity, the latter, by adopting a similar costume, exposes himself to the laughter of all who see him. An unassuming simplicity in dress should always be preferred, as it prepossesses every one in favor of the wearer.

Avoid what is called the "ruffianly style of dress," or the nonchalant and slouching appearance of a half-unbuttoned vest, and suspenderless pantaloons. That sort of affectation is if possible even more disgusting than the painfully elaborate frippery of the dandy.

Gentlemen never make any display of jewelry; that is given up entirely to the dominion of female taste. But ladies of good taste seldom wear it in the morning. It is reserved for evening display and for brilliant parties.

The native independence of American character regards with disdain many of the stringent social laws which are recognized in England and on the continent. Thus, the dress which many of our countryman adopt for the assembly-room and private parties would subject them to serious annoyance abroad. A frock-coat would not be tolerated a moment in any fashionable society in Europe, and whether it be esteemed a prejudice or otherwise, we are free to confess that in our opinion it is a violation of good taste, and unsuited either to a ball-room or private assembly.

We should, however, be far from denying the claim of gentleman to any person, simply because he wore a frock-coat; for the fickle goddess, Fashion, tolerates it to a certain extent in America; but if the universal custom among the refined and polished members of society were to exclude it, as in Europe, its use would manifest a contempt for the opinion of others, of which no gentleman could be guilty.

If the title of gentleman should depend entirely and solely on one's conformation to the laws of etiquette, the most unprincipled profligate or debauchee might successfully wear it; it is, however, but the finish and polish of the jewel—not the diamond itself.

If we were allowed to say anything to the ladies concerning dress in a dictatorial way, and were sure of being obeyed, we should order them generally to dress less. How often do we see a female attired in the height of fashion, perfectly gorgeous in costume, sweeping along the dusty street, perspiring under the weight of her finery—dressed, in fact, in a manner fit only for a carriage. This is a very mistaken and absurd fashion, and such people would be astonished to see the simplicity of real aristocracy as regards dress.

In our allusions to the dress of a gentleman, we have urged a studied simplicity of apparel; the same remarks are equally applicable to that of a lady. Indeed, simplicity is the grand secret of a lady's toilet. When she burdens herself with a profusion of bijouterie she rather detracts from than adds to her personal appearance, while all outré fashions and ultra styles of dress, though they excite attention, neither win respect nor enhance the attraction of the wearer.

Some ladies, perhaps imagining that they are deficient in personal charms—and we are willing to believe that there are such, although the Chesterfieldian school of philosophers would ridicule the idea—endeavor to make their clothes the spell of their attraction. With this end in view, they labor by lavish expenditure to supply in expensive adornment what they lack in beauty of form or feature. Unfortunately for their success, elegant dressing does not depend upon expense. A lady might wear the costliest silks that Italy could produce, adorn herself with laces from Brussels which years of patient toil are required to fabricate; she might carry the jewels of an Eastern princess around her neck and upon her wrists and fingers, yet still, in appearance, be essentially vulgar. These were as nothing without grace, without adaptation, without a harmonious blending of colors, without the exercise of discrimination and good taste.

The most appropriate and becoming dress is that which so harmonizes with the figure as to make the apparel unobserved. When any particular portion of it excites the attention, there is a defect, for the details should not present themselves first but the result of perfect dressing should be an elegant woman, the dress commanding no especial regard. Men are but indifferent judges of the material of a lady's dress; in fact, they care nothing about the matter. A modest countenance and pleasing figure, habited in an inexpensive attire, would win more attention from men, than awkwardness and effrontery, clad in the richest satins of Stewart and the costliest gems of Tiffany.

There are occasionally to be found among both sexes, persons who neglect their dress through a ridiculous affectation of singularity, and who take pride in being thought utterly indifferent to their personal appearance. Millionaires are very apt to manifest this characteristic, but with them it generally arises through a miserly penuriousness of disposition; their imitators, however, are even more deficient than they in common sense.

Lavater has urged that persons habitually attentive to their attire, display the same regularity in their domestic affairs. He also says: "Young women who neglect their toilet and manifest little concern about dress, indicate a general disregard of order—a mind but ill adapted to the details of housekeeping—a deficiency of taste and of the qualities that inspire love."

Hence the desire of exhibiting an amiable exterior is essentially requisite in a young lady, for it indicates cleanliness, sweetness, a love of order and propriety, and all those virtues which are attractive to their associates, and particularly to those of the other sex.

Chesterfield asserts that a sympathy goes through every action of our lives, and that he could not help conceiving some idea of people's sense and character from the dress in which they appeared when introduced to him.

Another writer has remarked that he never yet met with a woman whose general style of dress was chaste, elegant and appropriate, that he did not find her on further acquaintance to be, in disposition and mind, an object to admire and love.

The fair sex have the reputation of being passionately fond of dress, and the love of it has been said to be natural to women. We are not disposed to deny it, but we do not regard it as a weakness nor a peculiarity to be condemned. Dress is the appropriate finish of beauty. Some one has said that, "Without dress a handsome person is a gem, but a gem that is not set. But dress," he further remarks, "must be consistent with the graces and with nature."

"Taste," says a celebrated divine, "requires a congruity between the internal character and the external appearance; the imagination will involuntarily form to itself an idea of such a correspondence. First ideas are, in general, of considerable consequence. I should therefore think it wise in the female world to take care that their appearance should not convey a forbidding idea to the most superficial observer."

As we have already remarked, the secret of perfect dressing is simplicity, costliness being no essential element of real elegance. We have to add that everything depends upon the judgment and good taste of the wearer. These should always be a harmonious adaptation of one article of attire to another, as also to the size, figure and complexion of the wearer. There should be a correspondence in all parts of a lady's toilet, so as to present a perfect entirety. Thus, when we see a female of light, delicate complexion, penciling her eyebrows until they are positively black, we cannot but entertain a contempt for her lack of taste and good sense. There is a harmony in nature's tints which art can never equal, much less improve.

A fair face is generally accompanied by blue eyes, light hair, eyebrows and lashes. There is a delicacy and harmonious blending of correspondences which are in perfect keeping; but if you sully the eyebrows with blackness, you destroy all similitude of feature and expression, and almost present a deformity.

We cannot but allude to the practice of using white paints, a habit strongly to be condemned. If for no other reason than that poison lurks beneath every layer, inducing paralytic affections and premature death, they should be discarded—but they are a disguise which deceives no one, even at a distance; there is a ghastly deathliness in the appearance of the skin after it has been painted, which is far removed from the natural hue of health.

The hostess should be particularly careful not to outshine her guests. We have seen many instances where a lady, fond of dress, (and what lady is not fond of dress?) and conscious that it is unbecoming to dress to excess when visitors are invited, yet so unable to restrain the desire of display, has made the whole of her guests look shabby, by the contrast of her own gay colors. To dress meanly is a mark of disrespect to the company, but it is equally so to make a very gay appearance. If you make a grand display yourself, you are apt to appear as if you wished to parade your appearance, and it is always safer to be under than over the mark.

In going out, consider the sort of company you are likely to meet, and endeavor to assimilate to them as much as possible—for to make a great display elsewhere is an evidence of bad taste. But here if you miss the happy medium, dress above the mark rather than below it, for you may dress more out of doors than you may at home. Where dancing is expected to take place, no one should go without new kid gloves; nothing is so revolting as to see one person in an assembly ungloved, especially where the heat of the room, and the exercise together, are sure to make the hands redder than usual. Always wear your gloves in church or in a theater.

We may add a few general maxims, applied to both sexes, and our task will be done.

"All affectation in dress," says Chesterfield, "implies a flaw in the understanding." One should, therefore, avoid being singular, or attracting the notice, and the tongues of the sarcastic, by being eccentric.

Never dress against any one. Choose those garments which suit you, and look well upon you, perfectly irrespective of the fact that a lady or gentleman in the same village or street may excel you.

When dressed for company, strive to appear as easy and natural as if you were in undress. Nothing is more distressing to a sensitive person, or more ridiculous to one gifted with an esprit moqueur, than to see a lady laboring under the consciousness of a fine gown; or a gentleman who is stiff, awkward, and ungainly in a bran-new coat.

Dress according to your age. It is both painful and ridiculous to see an old lady dressed as a belle of four-and-twenty, or an old fellow, old enough for a grandfather, affecting the costume and the manners of a beau.

Young men should be well dressed. Not foppishly, but neatly and well. An untidy person at five-and-twenty, degenerates, very frequently, into a sloven and a boor at fifty.

Be not too negligent, nor too studied in your attire; and lastly, let your behavior and conversation suit the clothes you wear, so that those who know you may feel that, after all, dress and external appearance is the least portion of a Lady or Gentleman. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

DINNER PARTIES

 

"I never drink!  ...  wine!" Dracula. 

Invitations to dine, from a married party, are sent in some such form as the following:

Mr. and Mrs. A—— present their compliments to Mr. and Mrs. B——, and request the honor, [or hope to have the pleasure] of their company to dinner on Wednesday, the 10th of December next, at seven.

A—— Street, November 18th, 18—.

R. S. V. P.

The letters in the corner imply "Répondez, s'il vous plait;" meaning, "an answer will oblige." The reply, accepting the invitation, is concluded in the following terms:

Mr. and Mrs. B—— present their compliments to Mr. and Mrs. A——, and will do themselves the honor, [or will have much pleasure in] accepting their kind invitation to dinner on the 10th of December next.

B—— Square, November 21st, 18—.

The answer to invitations to dine, accepting or declining, should be sent immediately, and are always addressed to the lady. If, after you have accepted an invitation, anything occurs to render it impossible for you to go, the lady should be informed of it immediately. It is a great breach of etiquette not to answer an invitation as soon after it is received as possible, and it is an insult to disappoint when we have promised.

Cards or invitations for a dinner party, should be issued at least two weeks beforehand, and care should be taken by the hostess, in the selection of the invited guests, that they should be suited to each other. Much also of the pleasure of the dinner-party will depend on the arrangement of the guests at table, so as to form a due admixture of talkers and listeners, the grave and the gay.

Letters or cards of invitation should always name the hour of dinner; and well-bred people will arrive as nearly at the specified time as they can. Be sure and not be a minute behind the time, and you should not get there long before, unless the invitation requests you particularly to come early for a little chat before dinner.

It is always best for the lady of the house, where a dinner-party is to come off, to be dressed and ready to appear in the drawing-room as early as possible, so that if any of the guests should happen to come a little early, she may be prepared to receive them. It is awkward for both parties where visitors arrive before the lady of the house is ready for them. If it is necessary for her to keep an eye upon the dinner, it is still best that she should familiarly receive her guests, and beg to be excused, if it is necessary for her to vanish occasionally to the kitchen. A real lady is not ashamed to have it known that she goes into the kitchen; on the contrary, it is more likely that she will be a little proud of being thought capable of superintending the preparing feast.

It is not in good taste for the lady of the house, where a dinner-party is given, to dress very much. She leaves it for her lady-guests to make what display they please, and she offers no rivalry to their fine things. She contents herself with a tasty négligé, which often proves the most fascinating equipment after all, especially, if the cheeks become a little flushed with natural bloom, in consequence of the exercise and anxiety incident to the reception of the guests.

The half hour before dinner has always been considered as the great ordeal through which the lady of the house, in giving a dinner-party, will either pass with flying colors, or lose many of her laurels. The anxiety to receive her guests, her hope that all will be present in good time, her trust in the skill of her cook, and the attention of the other domestics all tend to make the few minutes a trying time. The lady however, must display no kind of agitation, but show her tact in suggesting light and cheerful subjects of conversation, which will be much aided by the introduction of any particular new book, curiosity of art, or article of virtu, which may pleasantly engage the attention of the company.

"Waiting for dinner," however, is a trying time, and there are few who have not felt——

"How sad it is to sit and pine,

The long half-hour before we dine!

Upon our watches oft we look,

Then wonder at the clock and cook,

And strive to laugh in spite of Fate!

But laughter forced, soon quits the room,

And leaves it to its former gloom.

But lo! the dinner now appears,

The object of our hope and fears,

    The end of all our pain!"

In giving an entertainment of this kind, the lady should remember that it is her duty to make her guests feel happy, comfortable, and quite at their ease; and the guests should also consider that they have come to the house of their hostess to be happy.

When dinner is on the table, the lady and gentleman of the house will have an opportunity of showing their tact by seeing that the most distinguished guests, or the oldest, are shown into the dining-room first, and by making those companions at the table who are most likely to be agreeable to each other. The lady of the house may lead the way, or follow her guests into the dining-room, as she pleases. Among those who delight to follow the etiquette of the English nobility, the latter practice is followed. But the practice must not be considered a test of good breeding in America. If the lady leads, the husband will follow behind the guests, with the lady on his arm who is to sit at his side. The old custom is still followed to some extent in this country, of the lady taking the head of the table, with the two most favored guests seated, the one at her right and the other at her left hand; while the gentleman of the house takes the foot of the table, supported on each side by the two ladies most entitled to consideration. But this old rule is by no means slavishly followed in polite society in this country.

In order to be able to watch the course of the dinner, and to see that nothing is wanting to their guests, the lady and gentleman of the house usually seat themselves in the centre of the table, opposite each other.

When all the guests are seated, the lady of the house serves in plates, from a pile at her left hand, the soup, which she sends round, beginning with her neighbors right and left, and continuing till all are helped. These first plates usually pass twice, for each guest endeavors to induce his neighbor to accept what was sent to him.

The gentleman then carves, or causes to be carved by some expert guest, the large pieces, in order afterwards to do the other honors himself. If you have no skill in carving meats, do not attempt it; nor should you ever discharge this duty except when your good offices are solicited by him; neither can we refuse anything sent us from his hand.

_____

HABITS AT TABLE.

As soon as dinner is announced, the host or hostess will give the signal for leaving the drawing-room, and in all probability you will be requested to escort one of the ladies to the table. If this should occur, offer the lady your left arm, and at the table remain standing until every lady is seated, then take the place assigned to you by the hostess. When you leave the parlor, pass out first, and the lady will follow you, still lightly holding your arm. At the door of the dining-room, the lady will drop your arm. You should then pass in, and wait at one side of the entrance till she passes you. Having arrived at the table, each gentleman respectfully salutes the lady whom he conducts, who in her turn, also bows and takes her seat.

Nothing indicates the good breeding of a gentleman so much as his manners at table. There are a thousand little points to be observed, which, although not absolutely necessary, distinctly stamp the refined and well-bred man. A man may pass muster by dressing well, and may sustain himself tolerably in conversation; but if he be not perfectly "au fait," dinner will betray him.

Any unpleasant peculiarity, abruptness, or coarseness of manners, is especially offensive at table. People are more easily disgusted at that time than at any other. All such acts as leaning over on one side in your chair, placing your elbows on the table, or on the back of your neighbor's chair, gaping, twisting about restlessly in your seat, are to be avoided as heresies of the most infidel stamp at table.

Though the body at table should always be kept in a tolerably upright and easy position, yet one need not sit bolt-upright, as stiff and prim as a poker. To be easy, to be natural, and to appear comfortable, is the deportment required.

Always go to a dinner as neatly dressed as possible. The expensiveness of your apparel is not of much importance, but its freshness and cleanliness are indispensable. The hands and finger-nails require especial attention. It is a great insult to every lady at the table for a man to sit down to dinner with his hands in a bad condition.

It is considered vulgar to take fish or soup twice. The reason for not being helped twice to fish or soup at a large dinner-party is, because by doing so you keep three parts of the company staring at you whilst waiting for the second course, which is spoiling, much to the annoyance of the mistress of the house. The selfish greediness, therefore, of so doing constitutes its vulgarity. At a family dinner it is of less importance, and is consequently often done.

You will sip your soup as quietly as possible from the side of the spoon, and you, of course, will not commit the vulgarity of blowing in it, or trying to cool it, after it is in your mouth, by drawing in an unusual quantity of air, for by so doing you would be sure to annoy, if you did not turn the stomach of the lady or gentleman next to you.

Be careful and do not touch either your knife or your fork until after you have finished eating your soup. Leave your spoon in your soup plate, that the servant may remove them.

Never use your knife to convey your food to your mouth, under any circumstances; it is unnecessary, and glaringly vulgar. Feed yourself with a fork or spoon, nothing else—a knife is only to be used for cutting.

If at dinner you are requested to help any one to sauce, do not pour it over the meat or vegetables, but on one side. If you should have to carve and help a joint, do not load a person's plate—it is vulgar; also in serving soup, one ladleful to each plate is sufficient.

Fish should always be helped with a silver fish-slice, and your own portion of it divided by the fork aided by a piece of bread. The application of a knife to fish is likely to destroy the delicacy of its flavor; besides which, fish sauces are often acidulated; acids corrode steel, and draw from it a disagreeable taste.

The lady and gentleman of the house are, of course, helped last, and they are very particular to notice, every minute, whether the waiters are attentive to every guest. But they do not press people either to eat more than they appear to want, nor insist upon their partaking of any particular dish. It is allowable for you to recommend, so far as to say that it is considered "excellent," but remember that tastes differ, and dishes which suit you, may be unpleasant to others; and that, in consequence of your urgency, some modest people might feel themselves compelled to partake of what is disagreeable to them.

Neither ladies nor gentlemen ever wear gloves at table, unless their hands, from some cause, are not fit to be seen.

Avoid too slow or too rapid eating; the one will appear as though you did not like your dinner, and the other as though you were afraid you would not get enough.

Making a noise in chewing your food, or breathing hard in eating, are unseemly habits, which will be sure to get you a bad name at table, among people of good-breeding. Let it be a sacred rule that you cannot use your knife, or fork, or teeth too quietly.

Avoid picking your teeth, if possible, at table, for however agreeable such a practice might be to yourself, it may be offensive to others. The habit which some have of holding one hand over the mouth, does not avoid the vulgarity of teeth-picking at table.

Unless you are requested to do so, never select any particular part of a dish; but if your host asks you what part you prefer, name some part, as in this case the incivility would consist in making your host choose as well as carve for you.

If your host or hostess passes you a plate, keep it, especially if you have chosen the food upon it, for others have also a choice, and by passing it, you may give your neighbor dishes distasteful to him, and take yourself those which he would much prefer.

If a dish is distasteful to you, decline it, but make no remarks about it. It is sickening and disgusting to explain at a table how one article makes you sick, or why some other dish has become distasteful to you. I have seen a well-dressed tempting dish go from a table untouched, because one of the company told a most disgusting anecdote about finding vermin served in a similar dish.

If the meat or fish upon your plate is too rare or too well-done, do not eat it; give for an excuse that you prefer some other dish before you; but never tell your host that his cook has made the dish uneatable.

If a gentleman is seated by the side of a lady or elderly person, politeness requires him to save them all trouble of pouring out for themselves to drink, and of obtaining whatever they are in want of at the table. He should be eager to offer them whatever he thinks to be most to their taste.

Never pare an apple or a pear for a lady unless she desire you, and then be careful to use your fork to hold it; you may sometimes offer to divide a very large pear with or for a person.

It is not good taste to praise extravagantly every dish that is set before you; but if there are some things that are really very nice, it is well to speak in their praise. But, above all things, avoid seeming indifferent to the dinner that is provided for you, as that might be construed into a dissatisfaction with it.

Some persons, in helping their guests, or recommending dishes to their taste, preface every such action with a eulogy on its merits, and draw every bottle of wine with an account of its virtues; others, running into the contrary extreme, regret or fear that each dish is not exactly as it should be; that the cook, etc., etc. Both of these habits are grievous errors. You should leave it to your guests alone to approve, or suffer one of your intimate friends who is present, to vaunt your wine.

If you ask the waiter for anything, you will be careful to speak to him gently in the tone of request, and not of command. To speak to a waiter in a driving manner will create, among well-bred people, the suspicion that you were sometime a servant yourself, and are putting on airs at the thought of your promotion. Lord Chesterfield says: "If I tell a footman to bring me a glass of wine, in a rough, insulting manner, I should expect that, in obeying me, he would contrive to spill some of it upon me, and I am sure I should deserve it."

Should your servants break anything while you are at table, never turn round, or inquire into the particulars, however annoyed you may feel. If your servants betray stupidity or awkwardness in waiting on your guests, avoid reprimanding them publicly, as it only draws attention to their errors, and adds to their embarrassment.

Never commit the vulgarism of speaking when you have any food in your mouth.

When you have occasion to change or pass your plate during dinner, be careful and remove your knife and fork, that the plate alone may be taken, but after you have finished your dinner, cross the knife and fork on the plate, that the servant may take all away, before bringing you clean ones for dessert.

Do not put butter on your bread at dinner, and avoid biting or cutting your bread from the slice, or roll; rather break off small pieces, and put these in your mouth with your fingers.

It is considered vulgar to dip a piece of bread into the preserves or gravy upon your plate and then bite it. If you desire to eat them together, it is much better to break the bread in small pieces, and convey these to your mouth with your fork.

Avoid putting bones, or the seeds of fruit, upon your table-cloth. Rather place them upon the edge of your plate.

When you wish to help yourself to butter, salt, or sugar, use the butter-knife, salt-spoon and sugar-tongs; to use your own knife, spoon or fingers evinces great ignorance and ill-breeding.

It is customary in some American families to serve their guests with coffee in the parlor after dinner. But this is a European custom which is not generally practiced in polite American society. When coffee is given at the close of the dinner, it is more usual to serve it before the guests leave the table. The practice of handing it round in the parlor or drawing-room, is an unnecessary inconvenience to the guests particularly, without any compensating advantages.

Finger-glasses are generally handed round as soon as the viands are removed, but they are intended merely to wet the fingers and around the mouth. When the finger-glasses are passed, wet your fingers in them and then wipe them upon your napkin. The habit of rinsing the mouth at table is a disgusting piece of indelicacy, which is never practiced by any well-bred person.

Upon leaving the table, lay your napkin beside your plate, but do not fold it.

Do not leave the table until the lady of the house gives the signal, and when you leave offer your arm to the lady whom you escorted to the table.

It is generally the custom in this country for ladies to retain their seats at table till the end of the feast, but if they withdraw, the gentlemen all rise when they leave the table, and remain standing until they have left the room.

Politeness demands that you remain at least an hour in the parlor, after dinner; and, if you can dispose of an entire evening, it would be well to devote it to the person who has entertained you. It is excessively rude to leave the house as soon as dinner is over.