The American Gentleman's Guide to Politeness and Fashion Part 26

"How's the old lady?"

The largest pair of blue eyes, opening to their full extent, turned wonderingly upon the querist.

"Your _mother_,--is she well this morning?"

"Mamma is pretty well, thank you; but it is not possible that you regard her as _old_! Mamma is in the very prime of life, only just turned of five and forty! Dear mother! she is looking very pale and sad in her widow's cap, but we have never thought of her as _old_," and a shadow, like the sudden darkening of a fair landscape, dimmed those deep blue eyes and that fine forehead.

But enough upon this collateral point.

I trust you will need no argument to convince you of the vulgarity and immorality of permitting yourselves the practice of _repeating private conversation_. Nothing will more surely tend to deprive you of the respect and friends.h.i.+p of well-bred people, since nothing is more thoroughly understood in good society, than a tacit recognition of that essential security to social confidence and good-feeling which utterly interdicts the repet.i.tion of private conversation.

Let me only add to these rambling observations the a.s.surance that a _ready compliance_ with the wishes of others, in exercising any personal accomplishment, is a mark of genuine good-breeding.

During one of my visits to London, some years since, the Duke of ---- invited me to run down with him, for a few days, to his magnificent estate in ----s.h.i.+re.

Riding one morning with my host and a numerous party of his guests, we paused to breathe our horses, and enjoy the fine prospect, upon the summit of a hill overlooking the wide-spread acres of his lords.h.i.+p.

"Here the estate of my neighbor, Mr. ----, joins my land," said the Duke, pointing, with his riding-whip, towards a narrow, thickly-wooded valley, at our feet. "You catch a glimpse of his turrets through the oaks yonder. This spot always reminds me," pursued our host, laughing, "of an amusing incident of which it was the scene, years ago, when the family of my neighbor had not become as distinguished as it now is, among the philanthropists of the age. A young friend of ours, who was spending the shooting-season here with my sons, while eagerly pursuing his game, one morning, unconsciously trespa.s.sed upon the preserves of Mr. ----. The report of his fowling-piece brought Mr. ---- suddenly to his side, just as he was triumphantly bagging his bird. My excellent neighbor, with all his admirable qualities, is sometimes a little choleric, and you know, Col. Lunettes, [bowing and smiling] that nothing sooner rouses the ire of a true Englishman, than an invasion of the _Game Laws_."

"'Sir!' cried Mr. ----, in a voice trembling with ill-suppressed fury, 'do you know that you are trespa.s.sing,--that these are _my_ grounds?'

"My young guest was not permitted fully to explain, before the angry man again burst forth with a tirade, which he concluded, by asking--'What would you do yourself, sir, under such circ.u.mstances? How would you feel disposed to treat a gentleman who had encroached upon your rights in this way?'

"'Well, really, sir, since you ask me, I think I should _invite him to go with me to the house and take a mouthful of lunch_!'

"This was irresistible! Even ----'s indignation was cooled by such inimitable _sang froid_, and he at once adopted the suggestion of the young sportsman. My witty guest not only secured the refreshment he needed, but, eventually, helped himself to a _bonne bouche_ of more substantial character, by his marriage with one of the blooming daughters of my neighbor, to whom he was introduced on that memorable occasion!"

A young American of my acquaintance, met, not long since, in the _salons_ of a distinguished _Parisienne_, one of the most learnedly scientific of the French authors of our times.

"I am as much surprised as I am delighted, to meet you here to-night, Mr. ----," said my friend, "I supposed you too much occupied in profound research and study, to find time for such enjoyments."

"I am, indeed, much occupied at present," returned the _savant_; "but I can neither more agreeably nor more profitably spend a portion of my time than in the society of my refined and cultivated friend, Madame ----, and that of the intellectual and accomplished visitors I always meet at her house."

Speaking, in the body of this letter, of the uselessness of _arguing_ with the hope of convincing others, reminded me, by a.s.sociation, of a little incident ill.u.s.trative of my opinion, of which I was once a witness, during a summer sojourn at Avon Springs--a little quiet watering-place in the Empire State, as you may know.

There was a pleasant company of us, and our intercourse was agreeable and friendly--all, apparently, disposed to contribute to the general stock of amus.e.m.e.nt, and to make the most of our somewhat limited resources in the way of general entertainment. There were pretty daughters and managing mammas, heiresses, and ladies without fortune, who were quite as attractive as those whose fetters were of gold, the usual complement of brainless youths, antiquated bachelors and millionaire widowers (so reputed), with a sprinkling of nondescripts and old soldiers, like myself.

It was our custom to muster, in great force, every morning, and go in a mammoth omnibus from our hotel to the "Spring" to bathe and drink the delectable sulphur-water, there abounding. On these occasions, every one was good-humored, obliging, and cheerfully inclined to make sacrifices for the comfort and convenience of others. The _ladies_, especially, were the objects of particular care and courtesy, being always politely a.s.sisted up and down the high, awkward steps of our lumbering conveyance, with their bathing parcels, etc.

----"All went merry as a marriage bell,"

until one unlucky day when some theological point became matter of discussion between two men of opposite opinions, just as we were commencing our return-ride from the Spring. Others were soon drawn, first into listening, and then into a partic.i.p.ation in the conversation, until almost every man in the company had betrayed a predilection for the distinctive tenets of some particular religious sect. Thus, Baptists, Presbyterians, Methodists, Congregationalists, Episcopalians, Unitarians, and Romanists stood revealed, each the ardent champion of his own peculiar views. The ladies had the good sense to remain silent, with the exception of an "Equal Rights" woman, whose wordy interposition clearly proved that

"_Fools rush in where angels fear to tread!_"

Well! of course, no one was convinced by this sudden outbreak of varied eloquence of the fallacy of opinions he had previously entertained, and of the superior wisdom of those of any one of his companions. Indeed, so eager was each in the maintenance of his own ground, as scarcely to heed the arguments of his opponents, except as furnis.h.i.+ng a fresh impulse for advancing his own with increasing pertinacity.

Presently, flushed cheeks, angry glances, and louder tones gave token that the meek spirit of the long-suffering _Prince of Peace_ was not dominant in the b.r.e.a.s.t.s of these, the professed advocates of his doctrines. Rude language, too, gradually took the place of the professed courtesy with which the discussion had begun, and the ladies looked uneasily from the windows, as if to satisfy themselves that escape from such disagreeable a.s.sociation was near at hand. Happily for them, our Jehu, though unmindful of any particular occasion for haste, at length drew up before Comstock's portico. But, in place of the usual patient waiting of each for his turn to alight, and the usual number of extended hands that were wont to aid the ladies in their descent, every one of the angry combatants crowded hastily out of the vehicle, almost before it had fairly stopped, wholly disregardful alike of the toes of his neighbors and the claims before universally accorded to the gentler portion of our company, and hurried up the steps, apparently forgetful of everything except the uncomfortable chafings of wounded self-love!

Each man, evidently, regarded himself as the most abused of mortals, and the rest as a parcel of obstinate fools, for whom it were a great waste of ammunition to a.s.sume the martyr's fate! And I am by no means sure, that the cheerful amicability that had before prevailed among us was ever fully restored after this unhappy outbreak of _religious feeling_!

The gayest of capitals experienced a sensation! The wittiest of circles, where all was wit, were, for once, content to listen only! The brave, the great, the learned, and the fair, contended for the smiles and the society of the Marquis de Plusesprit, the handsomest, the most accomplished, and the wittiest man in Paris!

One day, while this social _furore_ was at its height, a celebrated physician received a professional visit from an unknown, whose pale cheeks and sunken eyes bore testimony to the suffering to which he described himself as being a prey. The man of science prepared a prescription, but a.s.sured his patient that what would most speedily effect his restoration was change of scene and agreeable society.

"Seek in congenial companions.h.i.+p relief from the mental anxiety by which you are evidently oppressed," said the modern Esculapius--"fly from study and self-contemplation;--above all, _court the society of the Marquis de Plusesprit_!"

"Alas! doctor," returned the stranger, "_I am Plusesprit!_"

Speaking of Repartee, reminds me of a pretty scene of which I was a witness, not long since, while ruralizing for a week with an old friend and his charming daughters, at their beautiful and hospitable home, on the banks of the Hudson. By the way, I have before introduced you to their acquaintance--the pleasant family of _letter-writing memory_!--

An elderly foreign gentleman, of large information and agreeable manners, but not one of fortune's favorites, had been dining with us, by special invitation, and the lovely daughters of my host had vied with each other in doing honor to one in whom sensitiveness may have been rendered a little morbid by the effect of the tyrant Circ.u.mstance. Every hour succeeding his arrival had served more effectually to melt away a certain constraint of manner, by which he seemed at first oppressed, and his expressive face grew bland and genial under the sunny influences of courteous respect and appreciation, until when he rose to go away at sunset, he seemed almost metamorphosed out of the man of the morning.

The sisters three, accompanied their agreeable visitor to the vine-draped veranda, where I was already seated, attracted by the beauty of the evening, and of my local surroundings. I had been particularly admiring a fine large orange-tree, at the entrance of the porch, which was laden with flowers and fruit, and, with glittering pearls from a shower just bestowed upon it by the gardener.

"Will you not come again, before Colonel Lunettes leaves us, Mr. ----?"

asked my sweet young friend f.a.n.n.y, in her most cordial tones, linking her arm in that of one sister, and clasping the waist of the other, as she spoke, "we will invoke the Loves and Graces to attend you"----

"The Graces!" exclaimed the guest, quickly,--extending his hands towards the group, and bowing profoundly--"then you will come yourselves!--_the Graces are before me!_" And then he added, with a courtly air--"Really, Miss f.a.n.n.y, you too highly honor a rusty old man"----

"An old man," interrupted f.a.n.n.y, with the utmost vivacity, dissolving the "linked sweetness" that had intwined her with her sisters, and extending her beautiful arm towards the superb orange-tree before her, "an old man!--here is a fitting emblem of our friend Mr. ----;--all the attractiveness of youth still mingled with the matured fruit of experience!"

Charming f.a.n.n.y! G.o.d bless her!--she is one of those earth-angels whose manifold gifts seem used only to give happiness to others!

I called one evening, not long since, to pay my respects to the daughter of a recently-deceased and much-valued friend. She had been persuaded into a journey to a distant city, in search of the health and spirits that had been exceedingly impaired by watching beside the death-bed of her departed mother. Her appearance could scarcely fail, as it seemed to me, to interest the most insensible stranger to her history;--for myself, I was inexpressibly touched by the language of the colorless face and languid eyes to which a simple black robe lent additional meaning.

Just as I began to indulge a hope that the faint smile my endeavors at cheerful conversation had caused to flicker about her lips--as a rose-tint illumines for a moment the white summit of an Alpine height--there entered the drawing-room of our hostess a bevy of noisy women, young and old, who gathered about the sofa, where my friend and I were seated near our hostess, and rattled away like so many pieces of small (very small!) artillery.

I saw plainly that the mere noise was almost too much for the nerves of the silent occupant of the sofa corner; but what was my surprise at hearing them go into the most minute particulars respecting the recent death of a gentleman of our acquaintance! His dying words, his very death-struggles were carefully reported, and the grief of the survivors graphically described!

Unfortunately, having relinquished my seat beside the mourner to one of these women, I was powerless in my intense wish to attract her attention from the subject of their discourse; but my eyes were riveted upon her, with the keenest sympathy for the torture she must be undergoing. Her pale face had gradually grown white as a moonbeam, until, at length, as though strengthened by desperation, she sprang from her seat, and essayed to leave the room. One step forward, a half-stifled sob, and the slender form lay extended on the floor in hapless insensibility.

"While Mr. Smith is tuning his guitar, let us beg Mrs. Williams to redeem her promise of reciting Campbell's 'Last Man' for us," said a graceful hostess, mindful of the truth that some of her guests preferred eloquence and poetry to sweet sounds, and desirous, too, of drawing out the accomplishments of all her guests.

Mrs. Williams, gifted with