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To be acquainted with every detail of the etiquette pertaining to this subject is of the highest importance to every gentleman. Ease,savoir faire, and good breeding are nowhere more indispensable than at the dinner-table, and the absence of them are nowhere more apparent. How to eat soup and what to do with a cherry-stone are weighty considerations when taken as the index of social status; and it is not too much to say, that a man who elected to take claret with his fish, or ate peas with his knife, would justly risk the punishment of being banished from good society. As this subject is one of the most important of which we have to treat, we may be pardoned for introducing an appropriate anecdote related by the French poet Delille:—
Delille and Marmontel were dining together in the month of April, 1786, and the conversation happened to turn upon dinner-table customs. Marmontel observed how many little things a well-bred man was obliged to know, if he would avoid being ridiculous at the tables of his friends.
"They are, indeed, innumerable," said Delille; "and the most annoying fact of all is, that not all the wit and good sense in the world can help one to divine them untaught. A little while ago, for instance, the Abbé Cosson, who is Professor of Literature at the Collège Mazarin, was describing to me a grand dinner to which he had been invited at Versailles, and to which he had sat down in the company of peers, princes, and marshals of France.
"'I'll wager, now,' said I, 'that you committed a hundred blunders in the etiquette of the table!'
"'How so?' replied the Abbé, somewhat nettled. 'What blunders could I make? It seems to me that I did precisely as others did.'
"'And I, on the contrary, would stake my life that you did nothing as others did. But let us begin at the beginning, and see which is right. In the first place there was your table-napkin—what did you do with that when you sat down at table?'
"'What did I do with my table-napkin? Why, I did like the rest of the guests: I shook it out of the folds, spread it before me, and fastened one corner to my button-hole.'
"'Very well,mon cher; you were the only person who did so. No one shakes, spreads, and fastens a table-napkin in that manner. You should have only laid it across your knees. What soup had you?'
"'Turtle.'
"'And how did you eat it?'
"'Like every one else, I suppose. I took my spoon in one hand, and my fork in the other—'
"'Your fork! Good heavens! None but a savage eats soup with a fork.But go on. What did you take next?'
"'A boiled egg.'
"'Good and what did you do with the shell?'
"'Not eat it certainly. I left it, of course, in the egg-cup.'
"'Without breaking it through with your spoon?'
"'Without breaking it.'
"'Then, my dear fellow, permit me to tell you that no one eats an egg without breaking the shell and leaving the spoon standing in it. And after your egg?'
"'I asked for somebouilli.'
"'Forboulli! It is a term that no one uses. You should have asked for beef—never forboulli. Well, and after thebouilli?'
"'I asked the Abbé de Radonvillais for some fowl.'
"'Wretched man! Fowl, indeed! You should have asked for chicken or capon. The word "fowl" is never heard out of the kitchen. But all this applies only to what you ate; tell me something of what you drank, and how you asked for it.'
"'I asked for champagne and bordeaux from those who had the bottles before them.'
"'Know then, my good friend, that only a waiter, who has no time or breath to spare, asks for champagne or bordeaux. A gentleman asks forvin de Champagneandvin de Bordeaux. And now inform me how you ate your bread?'
"'Undoubtedly like all the rest of the world. I cut it up into small square pieces with my knife.'
"'Then let me tell you that no one cuts bread. You should always break it. Let us go on to the coffee. How did you drink yours?'
"'Pshaw! At least I could make no mistake in that. It was boiling hot, so I poured it, a little at a time, in the saucer, and drank it as it cooled.'
"'Eh bien! then you assuredly acted as no other gentleman in the room. Nothing can be more vulgar than to pour tea or coffee into a saucer. You should have waited till it cooled, and then have drank it from the cup. And now you see, my dear cousin, that, so far from doing precisely as others did, you acted in no one respect according to the laws prescribed by etiquette.'"
An invitation to dine should be replied to immediately, and unequivocally accepted or declined. Once accepted, nothing but an event of the last importance should cause you to fail in your engagement.
To be exactly punctual is the strictest politeness on these occasions. If you are too early, you are in the way; if too late, you spoil the dinner, annoy the hostess, and are hated by the rest of the guests. Some authorities are even of opinion that in the question of a dinner-party "never" is better than "late;" and one author has gone so far as to say, if you do not reach the house till dinner is served, you had better retire to a restaurateur's, and thence send an apology, and not interrupt the harmony of the courses by awkward excuses and cold acceptance.
When the party is assembled, the mistress or master of the house will point out to each gentleman the lady whom he is to conduct to table. If she be a stranger, you had better seek an introduction; if a previous acquaintance, take care to be near her when the dinner is announced, offer your arm, and go down according to precedence of rank. This order of precedence must be arranged by the host or hostess, as the guests are probably unacquainted, and cannot know each other's social rank.
When the society is of a distinguished kind, the host will do well to consult Debrett or Burke, before arranging his visitors.
When rank is not in question, other claims to precedence must be considered. The lady who is the greatest stranger should be taken down by the master of the house, and the gentleman who is the greatest stranger should conduct the hostess. Married ladies take precedence of single ladies, elder ladies of younger ones, and so forth.
When dinner is announced, the host offers his arm to the lady of most distinction, invites the rest to follow by a few words or a bow, and leads the way. The lady of the house should then follow with the gentleman who is most entitled to that honour, and the visitors follow in the order that the master of the house has previously arranged. The lady of the house frequently remains, however, till the last, that she may see her guests go down in their prescribed order; but the plan is not a convenient one. It is much better that the hostess should be in her place as the guests enter the dining-room, in order that she may indicate their seats to them as they come in, and not find them all crowded together in uncertainty when she arrives.
The number of guests at a dinner-party should always be determined by the size of the table. When the party is too small, conversation flags, and a general air of desolation pervades the table. When they are too many, every one is inconvenienced. A space of two feet should be allowed to each person. It is well to arrange a party in such wise that the number of ladies and gentlemen be equal.
It requires some tact to distribute your guests so that each shall find himself with a neighbour to his taste; but as much of the success of a dinner will always depend on this matter, it is worth some consideration. If you have a wit, or a particularly good talker, among your visitors, it is well to place him near the centre of the table, where he can be heard and talked to by all. It is obviously a bad plan to place two such persons in close proximity. They extinguish each other. Neither is it advisable to assign two neighbouring seats to two gentlemen of the same profession, as they are likely to fall into exclusive conversation and amuse no one but themselves. A little consideration of the politics, religious opinions, and tastes of his friends, will enable a judicious host to avoid many quicksands, and establish much pleasant intercourse on the occasion of a dinner party.
The lady of the house takes the head of the table. The gentleman who led her down to dinner occupies the seat on her right hand, and the gentleman next in order of precedence, that on her left. The master of the house takes the foot of the table. The lady whom he escorted sits on his right hand, and the lady next in order of precedence on his left.
The gentlemen who support the lady of the house should offer to relieve her of the duties of hostess. Many ladies are well pleased thus to delegate the difficulties of carving, and all gentlemen who accept invitations to dinner should be prepared to render such assistance when called upon. To offer to carve a dish, and then perform the office unskilfully, is an unpardonablegaucherie. Every gentleman should carve, and carve well.
As soon as you are seated at table, remove your gloves, place your table napkin across your knees, and remove the roll which you find probably within it to the left side of your plate.
The soup should be placed on the table first. Some old-fashioned persons still place soup and fish together; but "it is a custom more honoured in the breach than the observance." Still more old-fashioned, and in still worse taste is it to ask your guests if they will take "soup or fish." They are as much separate courses as the fish and the meat; and all experienced diners take both. In any case, it is inhospitable to appear to force a choice upon a visitor, when that visitor, in all probability, will prefer to take his soup first and his fish afterwards. All well-ordered dinners begin with soup, whether in summer or winter. The lady of the house should help it and send it round, without asking each individual in turn. It is as much an understood thing as the bread beside each plate, and those who do not choose it, are always at liberty to leave it untasted.
In eating soup, remember always to take it from the side of the spoon, and to make no sound in doing so.
If the servants do not go round with wine the gentlemen should help the ladies and themselves to sherry or sauterne immediately after the soup.
You should never ask for a second supply of either soup or fish; it delays the next course, and keeps the table waiting.
Never offer to "assist" your neighbours to this or that dish. The word is inexpressibly vulgar—all the more vulgar for its affectation of elegance. "Shall I send you some mutton?" or "may I help you to grouse?" is better chosen and better bred.
As a general rule, it is better not to ask your guests if they will partake of the dishes; but to send the plates round, and let them accept or decline them as they please. At very large dinners it is sometimes customary to distribute little lists of the order of the dishes at intervals along the table. It must be confessed that this gives somewhat the air of a dinner at an hotel; but it has the advantage of enabling the visitors to select their fare, and, as "forewarned is forearmed," to keep a corner, as the children say, for their favourite dishes.
If you are asked to take wine, it is polite to select the same as that which your interlocutor is drinking. If you invite a lady to take wine, you should ask her which she will prefer, and then take the same yourself. Should you, however, for any reason prefer some other vintage, you can take it by courteously requesting her permission.
As soon as you are helped, begin to eat; or, if the viands are too hot for your palate, take up your knife and fork and appear to begin. To wait for others is now not only old-fashioned, but ill-bred.
Never offer to pass on the plate to which you have been helped. This is a still more vulgar piece of politeness, and belongs to the manners of a hundred years ago. The lady of the house who sends your plate to you is the best judge of precedence at her own table.
In helping soup, fish, or any other dish, remember that to overfill a plate is as bad as to supply it too scantily.
Silver fish-knives will now always be met with at the best tables; but where there are none, a piece of crust should be taken in the left hand, and the fork in the right. There is no exception to this rule in eating fish.
We presume it is scarcely necessary to remind the reader that he is never, under any circumstances, to convey his knife to his mouth. Peas are eaten with the fork; tarts, curry, and puddings of all kinds with the spoon.
Always help fish with a fish-slice, and tart and puddings with a spoon, or, if necessary, a spoon and fork.
Asparagus must be helped with the asparagus-tongs.
In eating asparagus, it is well to observe what others do, and act accordingly. Some very well-bred people eat it with the fingers; others cut off the heads, and convey them to the mouth upon the fork. It would be difficult to say which is the more correct.
In eating stone fruit, such as cherries, damsons, &c., the same rule had better be observed. Some put the stones out from the mouth into a spoon, and so convey them to the plate. Others cover the lips with the hand, drop them unseen into the palm, and so deposit them on the side of the plate. In our own opinion, the last is the better way, as it effectually conceals the return of the stones, which is certainly the point of highest importance. Of one thing we may be sure, and that is, that they must never be dropped from the mouth to the plate.
In helping sauce, always pour it on the side of the plate.
If the servants do not go round with the wine (which is by far the best custom), the gentlemen at a dinner-table should take upon themselves the office of helping those ladies who sit near them. Ladies take more wine in the present day than they did fifty years ago, and gentlemen should remember this, and offer it frequently. Ladies cannot very well ask for wine, but they can always decline it. At all events, they do not like to be neglected, or to see gentlemen liberally helping themselves, without observing whether their fair neighbours' glasses are full or empty. Young ladies seldom drink more than three glasses of wine at dinner; but married ladies, professional ladies, and those accustomed to society, and habits of affluence, will habitually take five or even six, whether in their own homes or at the tables of their friends.
The habit of taking wine with each other has almost wholly gone out of fashion. A gentleman may ask the lady whom he conducted down to dinner; or he may ask the lady of the house to take wine with him. But even these last remnants of the old custom are fast falling into disuse.
Unless you are a total abstainer, it is extremely uncivil to decline taking wine if you are invited to do so. In accepting, you have only to pour a little fresh wine into your glass, look at the person who invited you, bow slightly, and take a sip from the glass.
It is particularly ill-bred to empty your glass on these occasions.
Certain wines are taken with certain dishes, by old-established custom—as sherry, or sauterne, with soup and fish; hock and claret with roast meat; punch with turtle; champagne with whitebait; port with venison; port, or burgundy, with game; sparkling wines between the roast and the confectionery; madeira with sweets; port with cheese; and for dessert, port, tokay, madeira, sherry, and claret. Red wines should never be iced, even in summer. Claret and burgundy should always be slightly warmed; claret-cup and champagne-cup should, of course, be iced.
Instead of cooling their wines in the ice-pail, some hosts have of late years introduced clear ice upon the table, broken up in small lumps, to be put inside the glasses. This is an innovation that cannot be too strictly reprehended or too soon abolished. Melting ice can but weaken the quality and flavour of the wine. Those who desire to drinkwine andwatercan asked for iced water if they choose, but it savours too much of economy on the part of a host to insinuate the ice inside the glasses of his guests, when the wine could be more effectually iced outside the bottle.
A silver knife and fork should be placed to each guest at dessert.
If you are asked to prepare fruit for a lady, be careful to do so, by means of the silver knife and fork only, and never to touch it with your fingers.
It is wise never to partake of any dish without knowing of what ingredients it is composed. You can always ask the servant who hands it to you, and you thereby avoid all danger of having to commit the impoliteness of leaving it, and showing that you do not approve of it.
Never speak while you have anything in your mouth.
Be careful never to taste soups or puddings till you are sure they are sufficiently cool; as, by disregarding this caution, you may be compelled to swallow what is dangerously hot, or be driven to the unpardonable alternative of returning it to your plate.
When eating or drinking, avoid every kind of audible testimony to the fact.
Finger-glasses, containing water slightly warmed and perfumed, are placed to each person at dessert. In these you may dip the tips of your fingers, wiping them afterwards on your table-napkin. If the finger-glass and d'Oyley are placed on your dessert-plate, you should immediately remove the d'Oyley to the left of your plate, and place the finger-glass upon it. By these means you leave the right for the wine-glasses.
Be careful to know the shapes of the various kinds of wine-glasses commonly in use, in order that you may never put forward one for another. High and narrow, and very broad and shallow glasses, are used for champagne; large, goblet-shaped glasses for burgundy and claret; ordinary wine-glasses for sherry and madeira; green glasses for hock; and somewhat large, bell-shaped glasses, for port.
Port, sherry, and madeira, are decanted. Hocks and champagnes appear in their native bottles. Claret and burgundy are handed round in a claret-jug.
Coffee and liqueurs should be handed round when the dessert has been about a quarter of an hour on the table. After this, the ladies generally retire.
Should no servant be present to do so, the gentleman who is nearest the door should hold it for the ladies to pass through.
When the ladies leave the dining-room, the gentlemen all rise in their places, and do not resume their seats till the last lady is gone.
The servants leave the room when the dessert is on the table.
If you should unfortunately overturn or break anything, do not apologize for it. You can show your regret in your face, but it is not well-bred to put it into words.
Should you injure a lady's dress, apologise amply, and assist her, if possible, to remove all traces of the damage.
To abstain from taking the last piece on the dish, or the last glass of wine in the decanter, only because it is the last, is highly ill-bred. It implies a fear that the vacancy cannot be supplied, and almost conveys an affront to your host.
In summing up the little duties and laws of the table, a popular author has said that—"The chief matter of consideration at the dinner-table—as, indeed, everywhere else in the life of a gentleman—is to be perfectly composed and at his ease. He speaks deliberately; he performs the most important act of the day as if he were performing the most ordinary. Yet there is no appearance of trifling or want of gravity in his manner; he maintains the dignity which is so becoming on so vital an occasion. He performs all the ceremonies, yet in the style of one who performs no ceremonies at all. He goes through all the complicated duties of the scene as if he were 'to the manner born.'"
To the giver of a dinner we have but one or two remarks to offer. If he be a bachelor, he had better give his dinner at a good hotel, or have it sent in from Birch's or Kühn's. If a married man, he will, we presume, enter into council with his wife and his cook. In any case, however, he should always bear in mind that it is his duty to entertain his friends in the best manner that his means permit; and that this is the least he can do to recompense them for the expenditure of time and money which they incur in accepting his invitation.
"To invite a friend to dinner," says Brillat Savarin, "is to become responsible for his happiness so long as he is under your roof." Again:—"He who receives friends at his table, without having bestowed his personal supervision upon the repast placed before them, is unworthy to have friends."
A dinner, to be excellent, need not consist of a great variety of dishes; but everything should be of the best, and the cookery should be perfect. That which should be cool should be cool as ice; that which should be hot should be smoking; the attendance should be rapid and noiseless; the guests well assorted; the wines of the best quality; the host attentive and courteous; the room well lighted; and the time punctual.
Every dinner should begin with soup, be followed by fish, and include some kind of game. "The soup is to the dinner," we are told by Grisnod de la Regnière, "what the portico is to a building, or the overture to an opera."
To this aphorism we may be permitted to add that achasseof cognac or curaçoa at the close of the dinner is like the epilogue at the end of a comedy.
One more quotation and we have done:—"To perform faultlessly the honours of the table is one of the most difficult things in society. It might indeed he asserted without much fear of contradiction, that no man has as yet ever reached exact propriety in his office as host, or has hit the mean between exerting himself too much and too little. His great business is to put every one entirely at his ease, to gratify all his desires, and make him, in a word, absolutely contented with men and things. To accomplish this, he must have the genius of tact to perceive, and the genius of finesse to execute; ease and frankness of manner; a knowledge of the world that nothing can surprise; a calmness of temper that nothing can disturb; and a kindness of disposition that can never be exhausted. When he receives others he must be content to forget himself; he must relinquish all desire to shine, and even all attempts to please his guests by conversation, and rather do all in his power to let them please one another. He behaves to them without agitation, without affectation; he pays attention without an air of protection; he encourages the timid, draws out the silent, and directs conversation without sustaining it himself. He who does not do all this is wanting in his duty as host—he who does, is more than mortal."
In conclusion, we may observe that to sit long in the dining-room after the ladies have retired is to pay a bad compliment to the hostess and her fair visitors; and that it is a still worse tribute to rejoin them with a flushed face and impaired powers of thought. A refined gentleman is always temperate.
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Invitations to a ball are issued at least ten days in advance; and this term is sometimes, in the height of the season, extended to three weeks, or even a month.
An invitation should be accepted or declined within a day or two of its reception.
Gentlemen who do not dance should not accept invitations of this kind. They are but incumbrances in the ball-room, besides which, it looks like a breach of etiquette and courtesy to stand or sit idly by when there are, most probably, ladies in the room who are waiting for an invitation to dance.
A ball generally begins about half-past nine or ten o'clock.
A man who stands up to dance without being acquainted with the figures, makes himself ridiculous, and places his partner in an embarrassing and unenviable position. There is no need for him to know the steps. It is enough if he knows how to walk gracefully through the dance, and to conduct his partner through it like a gentleman. No man can waltz too well; but to perform steps in a quadrille is not only unnecessary butoutré.
A gentleman cannot ask a lady to dance without being first introduced to her by some member of the hostess's family.
Never enter a ball-room in other than full evening dress, and white or light kid gloves.
A gentleman cannot be too careful not to injure a lady's dress. The young men of the present day are inconceivably thoughtless in this respect, and often seem to think the mischief which they do scarcely worth an apology. Cavalry officers should never wear spurs in a ball-room.
Bear in mind that allCasinohabits are to be scrupulously avoided in a private ball-room. It is an affront to a highly-bred lady to hold her hand behind you, or on your hip, when dancing a round dance. We have seen even aristocratic young men of the "fast" genus commit these unpardonable offences against taste and decorum.
Never forget a ball-room engagement. It is the greatest neglect and slight that a gentleman can offer to a lady.
At the beginning and end of a quadrille the gentleman bows to his partner, and bows again on handing her to a seat.
After dancing, the gentleman may offer to conduct the lady to the refreshment-room.
Should a lady decline your hand for a dance, and afterwards stand up with another partner, you will do well to attribute her error to either forgetfulness or ignorance of the laws of etiquette. Politeness towards your host and hostess demands that you should never make any little personal grievance the ground of discomfort or disagreement.
A gentleman conducts his last partner to supper; waits upon her till she has had as much refreshment as she desires, and then re-conducts her to the ball-room.
However much pleasure you may take in the society of any particular lady, etiquette forbids that you should dance with her too frequently. Engaged persons would do well to bear this maxim in mind.
It is customary to call upon your entertainers within a few days after the ball.[A]
[Footnote A: For a more detailed account of the laws and business of the ball, see the chapters entitled "The Ball-room Guide."]
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XII.—STAYING AT A FRIEND'S HOUSE:—BREAKFAST, LUNCHEON, &c.
A visitor is bound by the laws of social intercourse to conform in all respects to the habits of the house. In order to do this effectually, he should inquire, or cause his personal servant to inquire, what those habits are. To keep your friend's breakfast on the table till a late hour; to delay the dinner by want of punctuality; to accept other invitations, and treat his house as if it were merely an hotel to be slept in; or to keep the family up till unwonted hours, are alike evidences of a want of good feeling and good breeding.
At breakfast and lunch absolute punctuality is not imperative; but a visitor should avoid being always the last to appear at table.
No order of precedence is observed at either breakfast or luncheon. Persons take their seats as they come in, and, having exchanged their morning salutations, begin to eat without waiting for the rest of the party.
If letters are delivered to you at breakfast or luncheon, you may read them by asking permission from the lady who presides at the urn.
Always hold yourself at the disposal of those in whose house you are visiting. If they propose to ride, drive, walk, or otherwise occupy the day, you may take it for granted that these plans are made with reference to your enjoyment. You should, therefore, receive them with cheerfulness, enter into them with alacrity, and do your best to seem pleased, and be pleased, by the efforts which your friends make to entertain you.
You should never take a book from the library to your own room without requesting permission to borrow it. When it is lent, you should take every care that it sustains no injury while in your possession, and should cover it, if necessary.
A guest should endeavour to amuse himself as much as possible, and not be continually dependent on his hosts for entertainment. He should remember that, however welcome he may be, he is not always wanted. During the morning hours a gentleman visitor who neither shoots, reads, writes letters, nor does anything but idle about the house and chat with the ladies, is an intolerable nuisance. Sooner than become the latter, he had better retire to the billiard-room and practise cannons by himself, or pretend an engagement and walk about the neighbourhood.
Those who receive "staying visitors," as they are called, should remember that the truest hospitality is that which places the visitor most at his ease, and affords him the greatest opportunity for enjoyment. They should also remember that different persons have different ideas on the subject of enjoyment, and that the surest way of making a guest happy is to find out what gives him pleasure; not to impose that upon him which is pleasure to themselves.
A visitor should avoid giving unnecessary trouble to the servants of the house, and should be liberal to them when he leaves.
The signal for retiring to rest is generally given by the appearance of the servant with wine, water, and biscuits, where a late dinner-hour is observed and suppers are not the custom. This is the last refreshment of the evening, and the visitor will do well to rise and wish good-night shortly after it has been partaken of by the family.
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In entering a morning exhibition, or public room, where ladies are present, the gentleman should lift his hat.
In going upstairs the gentleman should precede the lady; in going down, he should follow her.
If you accompany ladies to a theatre or concert-room, precede them to clear the way and secure their seats.
Do not frequently repeat the name of the person with whom you are conversing. It implies either the extreme ofhauteuror familiarity. We have already cautioned you against the repetition of titles. Deference can always be better expressed in the voice, manner, and countenance than in any forms of words.
If when you are walking with a lady in any crowded thoroughfare you are obliged to proceed singly, always precede her.
Always give the lady the wall; by doing so you interpose your own person between her and the passers by, and assign her the cleanest part of the pavement.
At public balls, theatres, &c., a gentleman should never permit the lady to pay for refreshments, vehicles, and so forth. If she insists on repaying him afterwards, he must of course defer to her wishes.
Never speak of absent persons by only their Christian or surnames; but always as Mr. —— or Mrs. ——. Above all, never name anybody by the first letter of his name. Married people are sometimes guilty of this flagrant offence against taste.
If you are smoking and meet a lady to whom you wish to speak, immediately throw away your cigar.
Do not smoke shortly before entering the presence of ladies.
A young man who visits frequently at the house of a married friend may be permitted to show his sense of the kindness which he receives by the gift of a Christmas or New Year's volume to the wife or daughter of his entertainer. The presentation ofEtrennesis now carried to a ruinous and ludicrous height among our French neighbours; but it should be remembered that, without either ostentation or folly, a gift ought to be worth offering. It is better to give nothing than too little. On the other hand, mere costliness does not constitute the soul of a present; on the contrary, it has the commercial and unflattering effect of repayment for value received.
A gift should be precious for something better than its price. It may have been brought by the giver from some far or famous place; it may be unique in its workmanship; it may be valuable only from association with some great man or strange event. Autographic papers, foreign curiosities, and the like, are elegant gifts. An author may offer his book, or a painter a sketch, with grace and propriety. Offerings of flowers and game are unexceptionable, and may be made even to those whose position is superior to that of the giver.
If you present a book to a friend, do not write his or her name in it, unless requested. You have no right to presume that it will be rendered any the more valuable for that addition; and you ought not to conclude beforehand that your gift will be accepted.
Never refuse a present unless under very exceptional circumstances. However humble the giver, and however poor the gift, you should appreciate the goodwill and intention, and accept it with kindness and thanks. Never say "I fear I rob you," or "I am really ashamed to take it," &c., &c. Such deprecatory phrases imply that you think the bestower of the gift cannot spare or afford it.
Never undervalue the gift which you are yourself offering; you have no business to offer it if it is valueless. Neither say that you do not want it yourself, or that you should throw it away if it were not accepted. Such apologies would be insults if true, and mean nothing if false.
No compliment that bears insincerity on the face of it is a compliment at all.
To yawn in the presence of others, to lounge, to put your feet on a chair, to stand with your back to the fire, to take the most comfortable seat in the room, to do anything which shows indifference, selfishness, or disrespect, is unequivocally vulgar and inadmissible.
If a person of greater age or higher rank than yourself desires you to step first into a carriage, or through a door, it is more polite to bow and obey than to decline.
Compliance with, and deference to, the wishes of others is the finest breeding.
When you cannot agree with the propositions advanced in general conversation, be silent. If pressed for your opinion, give it with modesty. Never defend your own views too warmly. When you find others remain unconvinced, drop the subject, or lead to some other topic.
Look at those who address you.
Never boast of your birth, your money, your grand friends, or anything that is yours. If you have travelled, do not introduce that information into your conversation at every opportunity. Any one can travel with money and leisure. The real distinction is to come home with enlarged views, improved tastes, and a mind free from prejudice.
Give a foreigner his name in full, as Monsieur de Vigny—never asMonsieuronly. In speaking of him, give him his title, if he has one. Foreign noblemen are addressedviva voceas Monsieur. In speaking of a foreign nobleman before his face, say Monsieur le Comte, or Monsieur le Marquis. In his absence, say Monsieur le Comte de Vigny.
Converse with a foreigner in his own language. If not competent to do so, apologize, and beg permission to speak English.
Ball-Room Guide.
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As the number of guests at a dinner-party is regulated by the size of the table, so should the number of invitations to a ball be limited by the proportions of the ball-room. A prudent hostess will always invite a few more guests than she really desires to entertain, in the certainty that there will be some deserters when the appointed evening comes round; but she will at the same time remember that to overcrowd her room is to spoil the pleasure of those who love dancing, and that a party of this kind when, too numerously attended is as great a failure as one at which too few are present.
A room which is nearly square, yet a little longer than it is broad, will be found the most favourable for a ball. It admits of two quadrille parties, or two round dances, at the same time. In a perfectly square room this arrangement is not so practicable or pleasant. A very long and narrow room is obviously of the worst shape for the purpose of dancing, and is fit only for quadrilles and country dances.
The top of the ball-room is the part nearest the orchestra. In a private room, the top is where it would be if the room were a dining-room. It is generally at the farthest point from the door. Dancers should be careful to ascertain the top of the room before taking their places, as the top couples always lead the dances.
A good floor is of the last importance in a ball-room. In a private house, nothing can be better than a smooth, well-stretched holland, with the carpet beneath.
Abundance of light and free ventilation are indispensable to the spirits and comfort of the dancers.
Good music is as necessary to the prosperity of a ball as good wine to the excellence of a dinner. No hostess should tax her friends for this part of the entertainment. It is the most injudicious economy imaginable. Ladies who would prefer to dance are tied to the pianoforte; and as few amateurs have been trained in the art of playing dance music with that strict attention to time and accent which is absolutely necessary to the comfort of the dancers, a total and general discontent is sure to be the result. To play dance music thoroughly well is a branch of the art which requires considerable practice. It is as different from every other kind of playing as whale fishing is from fly fishing. Those who give private balls will do well ever to bear this in mind, and to provide skilled musicians for the evening. For a small party, a piano and cornopean make a very pleasant combination. Unless where several instruments are engaged we do not recommend the introduction of the violin: although in some respects the finest of all solo instruments, it is apt to sound thin and shrill when employed on mere inexpressive dance tunes, and played by a mere dance player.
Invitations to a ball should be issued in the name of the lady of the house, and written on small note paper of the best quality. Elegant printed forms, some of them printed in gold or silver, are to be had at every stationer's by those who prefer them. The paper may be gilt-edged, but not coloured. The sealing-wax used should be of some delicate hue.
An invitation to a ball should be sent out at least ten days before the evening appointed. A fortnight, three weeks, and even a month may be allowed in the way of notice.
Not more than two or three days should be permitted to elapse before you reply to an invitation of this kind. The reply should always be addressed to the lady of the house, and should be couched in the same person as the invitation. The following are the forms generally in use:—
Mrs. Molyneux requests the honour of Captain Hamilton's company at an evening party, on Monday, March the 11th instant.
Dancing will begin at Nine o'clock.
Thursday, March 1st.
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Captain Hamilton has much pleasure in accepting Mrs. Molyneux's polite invitation for Monday evening, March the 11th instant.
Friday, March 2nd.
The old form of "presenting compliments" is now out of fashion.
If Mrs. Molyneux writes to Captain Hamilton in the first person, as"My dear Sir," he is bound in etiquette to reply "My dear Madam."
The lady who gives a ball[A] should endeavour to secure an equal number of dancers of both sexes. Many private parties are spoiled by the preponderance of young ladies, some of whom never get partners at all, unless they dance with each other.
A room should in all cases be provided for the accommodation of the ladies. In this room there ought to be several looking-glasses; attendants to assist the fair visitors in the arrangement of their hair and dress; and some place in which the cloaks and shawls can be laid in order, and found at a moment's notice. It is well to affix tickets to the cloaks, giving a duplicate at the same time to each lady, as at the public theatres and concert-rooms. Needles and thread should also be at hand, to repair any little accident incurred in dancing.
Another room should be devoted to refreshments, and kept amply supplied with coffee, lemonade, ices, wine and biscuits during the evening. Where this cannot be arranged, the refreshments should be handed round between the dances.
The question of supper is one which so entirely depends on the means of those who give a ball or evening party, that very little can be said upon it in a treatise of this description. Where money is no object, it is of course always preferable to have the whole supper, "with all appliances and means to boot," sent in from some first-rate house. It spares all trouble whether to the entertainers or their servants, and relieves the hostess of every anxiety. Where circumstances render such a course imprudent, we would only observe that a home-provided supper, however simple, should be good of its kind, and abundant in quantity. Dancers are generally hungry people, and feel themselves much aggrieved if the supply of sandwiches proves unequal to the demand. Great inconvenience is often experienced by the difficulty of procuring cabs at the close of an evening party. Gentlemen who have been dancing, and are unprepared for walking, object to go home on foot, or seek vehicles for their wives and daughters. Female servants who have been in attendance upon the visitors during a whole evening ought not to be sent out. If even men-servants are kept, they may find it difficult to procure as many cabs as are necessary. The best thing that the giver of a private ball can do under these circumstances, is to engage a policeman with a lantern to attend on the pavement during the evening, and to give notice during the morning at a neighbouring cab-stand, so as to ensure a sufficient number of vehicles at the time when they are likely to be required.
[Footnote A: It will be understood that we use the word "ball" to signify a private party, where there is dancing, as well as a public ball.]
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The style of a lady's dress is a matter so entirely dependent on age, means and fashion, that we can offer but little advice upon it. Fashion is so variable, that statements which are true of it to-day may be false a month hence. Respecting no institution of modern society is it so difficult to pronounce half a dozen permanent rules.
We may perhaps be permitted to suggest the following leading principles; but we do so with diffidence. Rich colours harmonize with rich brunette complexions and dark hair. Delicate colours are the most suitable for delicate and fragile styles of beauty. Very young ladies are never so suitably attired as in white. Ladies who dance should wear dresses of light and diaphanous materials, such astulle, gauze, crape, net, &c., over coloured silk slips. Silk dresses are not suitable for dancing. A married lady who dances only a few quadrilles may weara decolletéesilk dress with propriety.
Very stout persons should never wear white. It has the effect of adding to the bulk of the figure.
Black and scarlet, or black and violet, are worn in mourning.
A lady in deep mourning should not dance at all.
However fashionable it may be to wear very long dresses, those ladies who go to a ball with the intention of dancing and enjoying the dance, should cause their dresses to be made short enough to clear the ground. We would ask them whether it is not better to accept this slight deviation from an absurd fashion, than to appear for three parts of the evening in a torn and pinned-up skirt?
Well-made shoes, whatever their colour or material, and faultless gloves, are indispensable to the effect of a ball-room toilette.
Much jewellery is out of place in a ball-room. Beautiful flowers, whether natural or artificial, are the loveliest ornaments that a lady can wear on these occasions.
A black suit, thin enamelled boots, a white neckcloth, and white or delicate grey gloves, are the chief points of a gentleman's ball-room toilette. He may wear an embroidered shirt; and his waistcoat may be of silk. White waistcoats are no longer fashionable. Much display of jewellery is no proof of good taste. A handsome watch-chain, with, perhaps, the addition of a few costly trifles suspended to it, and a set of shirt-studs, are the only adornments of this kind that a gentleman should wear. The studs should be small, but good.[A]
A gentleman's dress is necessarily so simple that it admits of no compromise in point of quality and style. The material should be the best that money can procure, and the fashion unexceptionable. So much of the outward man depends on his tailor, that we would urge no gentleman to economise in this matter.
[Footnote A: See "Etiquette for Gentlemen," Sec. VII.]
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On entering the ball-room, the visitor should at once seek the lady of the house, and pay his respects to her. Having done this, he may exchange salutations with such friends and acquaintances as may be in the room.
If the ball be a public one, and a gentleman desires to dance with any lady to whom he is a stranger, he must apply to the master of the ceremonies for an introduction.
Even in private balls, no gentleman can invite a lady to dance without a previous introduction. This introduction should be effected through the lady of the house, or a member of her family.
No lady should accept an invitation to dance from a gentleman to whom she has not been introduced. In case any gentleman should commit the error of so inviting her, she should not excuse herself on the plea of a previous engagement, or of fatigue, as to do so would imply that she did not herself attach due importance to the necessary ceremony of introduction. Her best reply would be to the effect that she would have much pleasure in accepting his invitation, if he would procure an introduction to her. This observation may be taken as applying only to public balls. At a private party the host and hostess are sufficient guarantees for the respectability of their guests; and, although a gentleman would show a singular want of knowledge of the laws of society in acting as we have supposed, the lady who should reply to him as if he were merely an impertinent stranger in a public assembly-room, would be implying an affront to her entertainers. The mere fact of being assembled together under the roof of a mutual friend, is in itself a kind of general introduction of the guests to each other.
An introduction given for the mere purpose of enabling a lady and gentleman to go through a dance together, does not constitute an acquaintanceship. The lady is at liberty to pass the gentleman in the park the next day without recognition.
No gentleman should venture to bow to a lady upon the strength of a ball-room introduction, unless she does him the honour to recognize him first. If he commits this solecism he must not be surprised to find that she does not return his salutation.
No gentleman should accept an invitation to a ball if he does not dance. When ladies are present who would be pleased to receive an invitation, those gentleman who hold themselves aloof are guilty, not only of a negative, but a positive act of neglect.
To attempt to dance without a knowledge of dancing is not only to make one's self ridiculous, but one's partner also. No lady or gentleman has the right to place a partner in this absurd position.
Never forget a ball-room engagement. To do so is to commit an unpardonable offence against good breeding.
It is not necessary that a lady or gentleman should be acquainted with thesteps, in order to walk gracefully and easily through a quadrille. An easy carriage and a knowledge of the figure is all that is requisite. A round dance, however, should on no account be attempted without a thorough knowledge of the steps, and some previous practice.
No person who has not a good ear for time and tune need hope to dance well.
At the conclusion of a dance, the gentleman bows to his partner, and either promenades with her round the room, or takes her to a seat. Where a room is set apart for refreshments, he offers to conduct her thither. At a public hall no gentleman would, of course, permit a lady to pay for refreshments.
No lady should accept refreshments from a stranger at a public ball; for she would thereby lay herself under a pecuniary obligation. For these she must rely on her father, brothers, or old friends.
Good taste forbids that a lady and gentleman should dance too frequently together at either a public or private ball. Engaged persons should be careful not to commit this conspicuous solecism.
Engagements for one dance should not be made while the present dance is yet in progress.
If a lady happens to forget a previous engagement, and stand up with another partner, the gentleman whom she has thus slighted is bound to believe that she has acted from mere inadvertence, and should by no means suffer his pride to master his good temper. To cause a disagreeable scene in a private ball-room is to affront your host and hostess, and to make yourself absurd. In a public room it is no less reprehensible. Always remember that good breeding and good temper (or the appearance of good temper) are inseparably connected.
Young gentlemen are earnestly advised not to limit their conversation to remarks on the weather and the heat of the room. It is, to a certain extent, incumbent on them to do something more than dance when they invite a lady to join a quadrille. If it be only upon the news of the day, a gentleman should be able to offer at least three or four observations to his partner in the course of a long half-hour.
Gentlemen who dance cannot be too careful not to injure the dresses of the ladies who do them the honour to stand up with them. The young men of the present day are singularly careless in this respect; and when they have torn a lady's delicate skirt, appear to think the mischief they have done scarcely worth the trouble of an apology.
A gentleman conducts his last partner to the supper-room, and, having waited upon her while there, re-conducts her to the ball-room. Never attempt to take a place in a dance which has been previously engaged.
Withdraw from a private ball-room as quietly as possible, so that your departure may not be observed by others, and cause the party to break up. If you meet the lady of the house on her way out, take your leave of her in such a manner that her other guests may not suppose you are doing so; but do not seek her out for that purpose.
Never be seen without gloves in a ball-room, though it were only for a few moments. Those who dance much and are particularlysoignéin matters relating to the toilette, take a second pair of gloves to replace the first when soiled.
A thoughtful hostess will never introduce a bad dancer to a good one, because she has no right to punish one friend in order to oblige another.
It is not customary for married persons to dance together in society.
[Footnote A: See "Etiquette for Ladies," and "Etiquette forGentlemen," Sec. IX.]
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The Quadrille is the most universal, as it is certainly the most sociable, of all fashionable dances. It admits of pleasant conversation, frequent interchange of partners, and is adapted to every age. The young or old, the ponderouspaterfamiliasor his sylph-like daughter, may with equal propriety take part in its easy and elegant figures. Even an occasional blunder is of less consequence in this dance than in many others; for each personage is in some degree free as to his own movements, not being compelled by the continual embrace of his partner to dance either better or worse than he may find convenient.
People now generally walk through a quadrille. Nothing more than a perfect knowledge of the figure, a graceful demeanour, and a correct ear for the time of the music are requisite to enable any one to take a creditable part in this dance. Steps are quite gone out of fashion: even thechasséhas been given up for some time past.
A quadrille must always consist of five parts. If a variation be made in the fourth figure, by the substitution ofPastoraleforTrenise, the latter must then be omitted; orvice-versâ. As soon as a gentleman has engaged his partner for the quadrille, he should endeavour to secure as hisvis-à-vissome friend or acquaintance; and should then lead his partner to the top of the quadrille, provided that post of honour be still vacant. He will place the lady always at his right hand.
Quadrille music is divided into eight bars for each part of the figure; two steps should be taken in every bar; every movement thus invariably consists of eight or of four steps.
It is well not to learn too many new figures; the memory is liable to become confused amongst them; besides which, it is doubtful whether your partner, or yourvis-à-vis, is as learned in the matter as yourself. Masters are extremely fond of inventing and teaching new figures; but you will do well to confine your attention to a few simple and universally received sets, which you will find quite sufficient for your purpose. We begin with the oldest and most common, the
First Figure.—Le Pantalon.
The couples at the top and bottom of the quadrille cross to each other's places in eight steps, occupying four bars of the time; then re-cross immediately to their own places, which completes the movement of eight bars. This is called theChaine Anglaise. The gentleman always keeps to the right ofvis-à-vislady in crossing, thus placing herinside.
Set to partners, orbalances; turn your partners. (This occupies the second eight bars.) Ladies, chain, orchaine des dames. (Eight bars more.) Each couple crosses to opposite couple's place, gentleman giving his hand to his partner: this is called half-promenade. Couples recross right and left to their places, without giving hands, which completes another eight bars, and ends the figure.
The side couples repeat what the top and bottom couples have done.
Second Figure.—L'Eté
The ladies in all the top couples, and theirvis-à-visgentlemen, advance four steps, and retire the same, repeating this movement once again, which makes the first eight bars.
Top ladies andvis-à-visgentlemen cross to each other's places; advance four steps; retreat ditto; cross back towards partners, who set to them as they advance; turn partners; which ends first half of figure.
Second ladies and topvis-à-visgentlemen execute the same movements. Then side couples begin, the privilege of commencement being conferred on those ladies who stand at therightof the top couples.
This figure is sometimes performed in a different manner, known as doubleL'Eté. Instead of the top lady andvis-à-visgentleman advancing alone, they advance with partners joining hands; cross and return, as in the single figure. This variation is, however, somewhat out of vogue, except (as will presently be seen) in the last figure of the quadrille, where it is still frequently introduced.
Third Figure—La Poule.
Top lady andvis-à-visgentleman cross to each other's places, giving right hand in passing; cross back again with left hand. (Eight bars.) The two couples form in a line, and join hands, the left hand of one holding the right hand of his or her neighbour, so that each faces different ways; in this position all fourbalancez, then half promenade with partner to opposite place; top lady andvis-à-visgentleman advance four steps and retire ditto. (2nd eight bars.) Both top and bottom couples advance together, and retire the same; then re-cross right and left to places. (3rd eight bars.) Second lady and first opposite gentleman repeat figure. Side couples repeat, observing same rule for commencement as inL'Eté.
Fourth Figure.—La Trenise.
Top couples join hands, advance four steps and retreat ditto: advance again, gentleman leaving lady at left hand ofvis-à-visgentleman, and retiring alone, (1st eight bars.) Two ladies advance, crossing to opposite side; gentleman advances to meet his partner,vis-à-vislady returns to hers. (2nd eight bars.)Balancez; turn partners to places. (3rd eight bars.) Second couple performs same figure; side couples repeat as before.
IfLa Pastoralebe preferred, it will be performed thus:—Top couple advance and retreat; advance, gentleman leading lady to left hand ofvis-à-visgentleman; he advances with both ladies four steps, retreating ditto; again advancing, he leaves both ladies with first gentleman, retreating alone; top gentleman and both ladies advance and retreat; again advance, joining hands in circle, go half round, half promenade to opposite places, then return right and left to their own. Second couples and side couples repeat as before.
Fifth Figure.—La Finale.
Begin with thegrand rondor great round; that is, the whole quadrille; first and second couples and sides join hands all round, advance four steps, and retreat ditto.L'Etéis now sometimes introduced, thegrand rondbeing repeated between each division of the figure. But it gives a greater variety andbrioto the quadrille if, after the firstgrand rond, the following figure be performed, thegalopstep being used throughout. Each gentleman (at top and bottom couples) takes his lady round the waist, as for thegalop; advance four steps, retreat ditto, advance again, cross to opposite places; advance, retreat, re-cross to own places. Ladies chain; half promenade across; half right and left to places;grand rond. Side couples repeat figure.Grand rondbetween each division and at the conclusion. Bow to your partners, and conduct your lady to seat.
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This quadrille has, within the last few years become more fashionable than formerly. But it is not so frequently danced as the Lancers, still less as the First Set of Quadrilles. Each set can consist only of eight couples, differing in this respect from the simple quadrille, which admits of an indefinite number of couples.
1st Figure.—Top and opposite couples hands across; then back again;balancezand turn partners;chaine des dames; half promenade across; half right and left to places.
2nd Figure.—Top gentleman advances and retreats twice.Balancezto corners and turn, each lady passing to her next neighbour's place. Having changed your partner, all promenade quite round. Second, third, and fourth gentleman repeat same figure; thus all have regained their places.
3rd Figure.—Top lady andvis-à-visgentleman advance and retreat twice.
Top couple join hands and cross over; opposite couple cross likewise, separately, allowing top couple to pass between them; then top couple re-cross to places separately, leaving the second couple (who re-cross with joined hands) inside.
Balancezto corners and turn your neighbour's partner; back to places. All four couples, joining hands in circle, advance and retreat twice. Same figure repeated by second and side couples.
4th Figure.—Top lady andvis-à-visgentleman advance four steps; second lady and hervis-à-visthen do the same; each couple turns partner back to places. Ladies in all four couples move four steps to the right, each taking her neighbour's place; gentlemen then move four steps to the left, each into next neighbour's place. Ladies again to the right; gentlemen again to the left. Promenade round, turn partners to places. Second and side couples repeat in succession.
5th Figure.—First couple promenade round inside the quadrille. Four ladies advance, courtesy to each other, and retire; four gentlemen advance, bow, and retire.Balancezand turn partners. Grand chain half way round. All promenade to places, and turn partners. Allchassez croisez, ladies right, gentlemen left (behind their partners), and back again to places. Second and side couples repeat as before. Promenade all round forfinale.
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The Lancers Quadrille is perhaps the most graceful and animated of any. Within the last few years it has become a great favourite in fashionable circles, probably owing to its revival at the state balls of Her Majesty. It admits of much skill and elegance in executing its quick and varied figures, a correct acquaintance with which is absolutely requisite to all who take part in it. Unlike the common quadrille, the Lancers must be danced by four couples only in each set; though of course there can be many sets dancing at the same time. The number being so limited, one awkward or ignorant person confuses the whole set; therefore, it is indispensable that every one who dances in this quadrille should have a thorough mastery of its graceful intricacies. We have observed that of late it has become the fashion to substitute new tunes for the old well-known music of the Lancers Quadrille. We cannot consider this an improvement. The old simple melodies are peculiarly fitted to the sprightly, joyous character of the dance; which is more than can be said for any of the modern substitutes. When these are used, the Lancers, in our opinion, loses its individuality and spirit, becoming almost like a common quadrille. We should be heartily glad to see the old tunes restored once for all to their rightful supremacy.
The sets of four couples, top, opposite and sides, having been arranged, the dance begins as follows:—1st Figure.—First lady and opposite gentleman advance and retreat; advance again, joining their hands; pass round each other and back to places. (1st eight bars.) Top couple join hands, and cross, opposite couple crossing at the same time, separately, outside them; the same reversed, back to places. (2nd eight bars.) All the couplesbalancezto corners; each gentleman turns his neighbour's partner back to places. (3rd eight bars.) Second couple repeat figure from beginning; after them side couples, those who stand to the right of top couple having always the priority, as in the common quadrille.
2nd Figure.—First couple advance and retreat, gentleman holding lady's left hand; advance again; gentleman leaves his partner in the centre of the quadrille, and retires to place. (1st eight bars.)Balancezto each other and turn to places. (2nd eight bars.) Side couples join first and second couples, forming a line of four on either side. Each line advances four steps, retreats ditto; then advances again, each gentleman reclaiming his partner, and all turn to places. Second and side couples repeat figure in succession.
3rd Figure.—First lady advances four steps alone, and stops;vis-à-visgentleman does the same; first lady retires, facing gentleman, to whom she makes a slow profound courtesy. (The courtesy must occupy a bar or two of the music; and as, if made with grace and dignity, it is most effective, we would recommend ladies to practise it carefully beforehand.) The gentleman at the same time bows and retires. (1st eight bars.) All four ladies advance to centre, give right hands across to each other (which is called thedouble chain), and left hand tovis-à-visgentleman; then back again, left hands across in the middle, and right hands to partners, back to places. (2nd eight bars.) Second and side couples repeat figure from commencement.
A more recent fashion for dancing this figure is as follows:—Instead of one lady advancing at first, all four advance, and courtesy to each other; then turn and courtesy to their partners. Ladies do themoulinetin the centre; that is, give right hands across to each other, and half round; left hands back again, and return to places. Gentlemen meantime all move round outside the ladies, till each has regained his place. Figure, as usual, repeated four times; but the second and fourth time the gentlemen advance instead of the ladies, and bow, first to each other, then to their partners; continuing as before through the rest of the figure.
4th Figure.—Top gentleman, taking partner's left hand, leads her to the couple on their right, to whom they bow and courtesy (which civility must be met with the like acknowledgment), then cross quickly to fourth couple, and do the same, (1st eight bars.) All four coupleschassez croisezright and left (gentleman invariably passing behind his partner) then turn hands (tour des mains) back to places. (2nd eight bars.) First and opposite couples right and left across and back again to places. (3rd eight bars.) Second and sides repeat as usual.
5th Figure.—This figure commences with the music. Each couple should stand ready, the gentleman facing his partner, his right hand holding hers. If every one does not start directly the music begins, and does not observe strict time throughout, this somewhat intricate figure becomes hopelessly embarrassed; but, when well danced, it is the prettiest of the set. It commences with thegrande chaineall round; each gentleman giving his right hand to his partner at starting, his left to the next lady, then his right again, and so all round, till all have returned to their places. (This occupies sixteen bars of the music.) First couple promenade inside figure, returning to places with their backs turned to opposite couple. The side couple on their right falls in immediately behind them; the fourth couple follows, the second couple remaining in their places. A double line is thus formed—ladies on one side and gentlemen on the other. (3rd eight bars.) Allchassez croisez, ladies left, gentlemen right, behind partners. First lady leads off, turning sharply round to the right; first gentleman does the same to the left, meeting at the bottom of the quadrille, and promenade back to places. All the ladies follow first lady; all the gentlemen follow first gentleman; and as each meets his partner at the bottom of the figure, they touch hands, then fall back in two lines—ladies on one side, gentlemen on the other—facing each other. (4th eight bars.) Four ladies join hands, advance and retreat; four gentlemen ditto at the same time; then each turns his partner to places. (5th eight bars.)Grande chaineagain. Second and side couples repeat the whole figure in succession, each couple taking its turn to lead off, as the first had done.Grande chainebetween each figure and in conclusion.