Reading that a sentinel had been punished the other day at St. Petersburg for having omitted to present arms, as her Imperial Highness, the Grand Duchess Olga, was leaving the winter palace—in her nurse’s arms—I smiled at what appeared to be needless punctilio; then, as is my habit, began turning the subject over, and gradually came to the conclusion that while it could doubtless be well to suppress much of the ceremonial encumbering¹ court life, it might not be amiss if we engrafted a little more etiquette² into our intercourse³ with strangers and the home relations.  In our dear free and easy-going country there is a constant tendency to loosen the ties of fireside etiquette until any manners are thought good enough, as any toilet is considered sufficiently⁴ attractive for home use.  A singular impression has grown up that formal politeness and the saying of gracious and complimentary⁵ things betray the toady⁶ and the hypocrite, both if whom are abhorrent⁷ to Americans.  
By the force of circumstances most people are civil enough in general society; while many fail to keep to their high standard in the intimacy⁸ of home life and in their intercourse with inferiors, which is a pity, as these are the two cases where self-restraint and amenity⁹ are most required.  Politeness is, after all, but the dictate¹⁰ of a kind heart, and supplies the oil necessary to make the social machinery¹¹ run smoothly¹².  In home life, which is the association during many hours each day of people of varying dispositions¹³, views, and occupations, friction¹⁴ is inevitable¹⁵; and there is especial need of lubrication to lessen¹⁶ the wear and tear and eliminate jarring.
 
Americans are always much shocked to learn that we are not popular on the Continent.  Such a discovery comes to either a nation or an individual like a douche of cold water on nice, warm conceit¹⁷, and brings with it a feeling of discouragement, of being unjustly treated, that is painful, for we are very “touchy” in America, and cry out when a foreigner expresses anything but admiration¹⁸ for our ways, yet we are the last to lend ourselves to foreign customs.
 
It has been a home thrust for many of us to find that our dear friends the French sympathized warmly with Spain in the recent struggle, and had little but sneers¹⁹ for us.  One of the reasons for this partiality is not hard to discover.
 
The Spanish who travel are mostly members of an aristocracy celebrated²⁰ for its grave courtesy, which has gone a long way toward making them popular on the Continent, while we have for years been riding rough-shod over the feelings and prejudices of the European peoples, under the pleasing but fallacious illusion that the money we spent so lavishly²¹ in foreign lands would atone²² for all our sins.  The large majority of our travelling compatriots forget that an elaborate etiquette exists abroad regulating the intercourse between one class and another, the result of centuries of civilization, and as the Medic and Persian laws for durability²³.  In our ignorance we break many of these social laws and give offence where none was intended.
 
A single illustration will explain my meaning.  A young American girl once went to the mistress of a pension where she was staying and complained that the concierge²⁴ of the house had been impertinent.  When the proprietress asked the concierge what this meant, the latter burst out with her wrongs.  “Since Miss B. has been in this house, she has never once bowed to me, or addressed a word to either my husband or myself that was not a question or an order; she walks in and out of my loge to look for letters or take her key as though my room were the street; I won’t stand such treatment from any one, much less from a girl.  The duchess who lives au quatrième never passes without a kind word or an inquiry²⁵ after the children or my health.”
 
Now this American girl had erred²⁶ through ignorance of the fact that in France servants are treated as humble²⁸ friends.  The man who brings your matutinal coffee says “Good morning” on entering the room, and inquires if “Monsieur has slept well,” expecting to be treated with the same politeness he shows to you.
 
The lady who sits at the caisse of the restaurant you frequent is as sure of her position as her customers are of theirs, and exacts a courteous²⁹ salutation from every one entering or leaving her presence; logically, for no gentleman would enter a ladies’ drawing-room without removing his hat.  The fact that a woman is obliged to keep a shop in no way relieves him of this obligation.
 
People on the Continent know their friends’ servants by name, and speak to them on arriving at a house, and thank them ............