What we Used to Do.

New Zealand Mail, Issue 914, 6 September 1889, Page 5

What we Used to Do.

In a little book just published, entitled ‘Good Form,’ by Mrs Armstrong, the etiquette of some few years ago is amusingly contrasted with that of to-day, when everything is more succinct and expeditious than it used to bo. When the ladies of John Leech’s time went to dinner parties, they were shown into bedrooms, and allowed some minutes to adjust their ringlets. How they hand their cloak to a servant, and walk straight from their carriage or cab to the presence of their hostess. At weddings in ‘the Forties’ each bridesmaid had a groomsman to look after her, and see that she had what she liked at the elaborate breakfasts of the matrimonial fnnotioQ of that day. How, there is only a ‘ best man,’ though how he comes by the superlative adjective when he is sole groomsman it is difficult to say. Among other changes of custom is that concerned with the bridesmaids’ dresses, which used to be given by the bride. And our authoress might have added that it is no longer fashionable, as it then was, for the bride to cry. All weddings nowadays are dry-eyed, and if the ‘ cheerful stoicism,’ that so strongly struck Carlyle as an attribute of the English aristocratic classes, should have to be called into play by mother or sister, their self-command i 3 usually equal to the occasion. Crying at weddings has ‘gone out-’ It was the very height of the fashion in the year 1827. When Sir Edward Bulwer Lytton married MiBS Rosina Wheeler an eye-witness’of the ceremony describes both bride and bridegroom as being ‘overcome with sensibility,’ pale, tottering and tearful. Ho one totters to the altar now. It would not be * good form.’ But the bride must not, on the other hand, romp up the aisle, in the exultation of her heart. The correct pace is, perhaps, best described as resembling that of a policeman on his beat. It is slow and stately. There is deliberation expressed in it, as there ought to be, and even a slight hint of determination, as of mutiny against the fearsome word ? obey.’ It is rather unkind of the writer of * Good Form ’ to remark, in her chapter on yachting, that 'here, as everywhere else in the civilised world, the chaperon is a necessary evil.’ Poor chaperon ! It would probably be found that the really nice girls are those who, far from regarding their chaperon as an t evil, would very strongly resent this deserip. tion of her, regarding her as a refuge and a haven, whether in the ballroem or on board a yacht. Another marked change in sooial customs is mentioned in connection with the etiquette of ‘ small and early ’ parties. No longer does a hostess ask her guests to sing or play. This ordeal, so dreaded by the girl of a couple of decades ago, is no longer to be feared. 'I hope you have brought some music, Miss Smith/ was frequently the prelude to a distracting performance that gave pleasure to no one, least of all to the player. And, strange to say, now that music is always professional, and generally wovth listening to, it is difficult to remain silent while it is going on ; whereas, when amateurß were singing, it would have been considered a shocking piece of rudeness for anyone to have talked till the lady had finished describing how she wore a wreath of roses, or the gentleman had finished dilating upon his homeless, ragged, and tanned condition. Professional Bingers are very sensitive on this point of silence while they sing, and an unfortunate hostess is often made unhappy by the difficulty of getting her guests to listen in becoming silence. Another difference between what we used to do and what we do now is to be noted at the dinner-table, where it was considered the duty of the host and hostess to urge their gueßts to eat. This custom is certainly more honoured in the breach than the observance, and in our own day it is entirely abandoned, partly owing to. the universal style of having ail dishes handed round. The board no longer groans as it once did, the weight of the viands being transferred to that chapel of ease the sideboard, where, in seelu. sion, a hireling calves the joint and skilfully dissects the bird whose anatomy used to prove such an intricate problem to the bothered amateur at the end of the table. Hot all of these could display the coolness of the gentleman who once calved a goose with such misplaced energy as to send it under

the table. Seeing that the guests evinced some discomfiture and an anxiety to know where it had gone, he said, * All right, ladies and gentlemen, I have rhy foot on it.’ Episodes of this thrillng kind no longer happen, and skill in calving is not now one of the polite accomplishments wherewith to equip a youth for his social career. In describing a strawberry tea, Mrs Armstrong remarks that an invitation to one may lead the. recipient to conclude that the season is summer, notwithstanding any climatic evidence to the contrary. In connection with the inviting name of this repast, she condemns Juliet’s frivolous question as to what’s in a name, as * one of the special arguments that naturally rise to lips of gushing girlhood when reproved for taking interest in a detrimental.’ Etiquette books, a 3 a rule, err in taking their subjects too seriouslv. The writers show no sense of humour. They treat their topic as though they had been sent from some distant star to expound it, and the whole of this world were looking to them for light and guidance. This frame of mind precludes any idea of gaiety of diction, or brightness of style. Such writers have modelled their remarks upon the Ten Commandments, and wearily reiterate ‘Thou shalt ’ and ' Thou shalt not.’ In ‘ Good Form/ however, the very title shows a certain freedom from the bonds of custom ; an emancipation from the undue solemnity that has pervaded the subject since the early days when it was necessary to say ‘Bo not spread your butter on your bread with your thumb.’