Page:Book of Etiquette, Volume 1, by Lilian Eichler.djvu/27

Rh in the ball-room, at the theater—every day people are reading the story of our characters and ideals.

Society has its own definite code of manners that must be observed before one can enter its portals. There are certain rules that must be followed before one can enter its envied circle. There are conventionalities that must be observed in requesting a lady to dance, in acknowledging an introduction, in using the knife and fork at the dinner table. There are certain prevailing modes in dressing for the theater and reception. To know and adhere to these laws is to be admitted to the highest society and enjoy the company of the most brilliant minds.

Etiquette is an art—the art of doing and saying the correct thing at the correct time—the art of being able to hold oneself always in hand, no matter how exacting the circumstance. And like music or painting or writing, the more you study it, the more you apply yourself to its principles, the more perfectly your own character is molded.

The cultured man is never angry, never impatient, never demonstrative. His actions and speech are tempered with a dispassionate calmness and tranquillity that the French admiringly call sang froid. He knows how to control his emotions so effectively that no one can read, in his self-possessed expression, whether he is angry or pleased, discouraged or eager.

Perhaps the most striking and admirable thing about a man of breeding is his carefully disciplined impulses. He may at times lose control of himself, but he is never petulant, never incoherent. He may be greatly enthusiastic