12426 - Notepad - University of Macau Library

12426
Never let even politeness induce you to play for very high stakes.
Etiquette is the minor morality of life; but it never should be
allowed to outweigh the higher code of right and wrong.
Be scrupulous to observe silence when any of the company are playing
or singing. Remember that they are doing this for the amusement of the
rest; and that to talk at such a time is as ill-bred as if you were
to turn your back upon a person who was talking to you, and begin a
conversation with some one else.
If you are yourself the performer, bear in mind that in music, as in
speech, "brevity is the soul of wit." Two verses of a song, or four
pages of a piece, are at all times enough to give pleasure. If your
audience desire more they will ask for more; and it is infinitely more
flattering to be encored than to receive the thanks of your hearers,
not so much in gratitude for what you have given them, but in relief
that you have left off. You should try to suit your music, like your
conversation, to your company. A solo of Beethoven's would be as much
out of place in some circles as a comic song at a Quakers' meeting.
To those who only care for the light popularities, of the season, give
Balfe and Verdi, Glover and Jullien. To connoisseurs, if you perform
well enough to venture, give such music as will be likely to meet the
exigences of a fine taste. Above all, attempt nothing that you cannot
execute with ease and precision.
In retiring from a crowded party it is unnecessary that you should
seek out the hostess for the purpose of bidding her a formal good
night. By doing this you would, perhaps, remind others that it was
getting late, and cause the party to break up.
If you meet the lady of the house on your way to the drawing-room
door, take your leave of her as unobtrusively as possible, and slip
away without attracting the attention of her other guests.
[Footnote A: For a succinct guide to whist, loo, _vingt-et-un_,
speculation, &c., &c., &c., see Routledge's "Card-player," by G.F.
Pardon, price _sixpence_.]
* * * * *
X.--THE DINNER TABLE.
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 Abbe Cosson, who is Professor of Literature at the College
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
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