membered that he had never been introduced to the struggling victim. Putting on his coat again, he proceeded on his way quite self-satisfied.
This is an instance where common-sense would have been the better part of etiquette. Too rigid an observance of the laws of good society makes them nothing short of an absurdity. The purpose of correct manners is not to enable us to strut about in society and command the admiring glances of the people around us—as the peacock, in its vanity, parades before onlookers in a proud dignity that is quite obviously assumed. The true service of etiquette is so to strengthen and simplify the social life that we are able to do what is absolutely correct and right without even stopping to think about it.
That, then, is the purpose of THE BOOK OF ETIQUETTE—to give to the reader so clear and definite an understanding of the social life that he will be able to have at all times, under all conditions, that unaffected grace and charm of manner that the French like to call savoir faire. It has been written, not for the exceedingly ill-bred or for the highly polished, but for those who find a certain sense of satisfaction in doing what is correct—sincere men and women who, in the performance of their business and social duties, find that there is a constant need for cordial and gracious relationship with those around them.
If the following chapters awaken in the reader the desire for closer companionship with the vast world of human nature, of which we are all a part; if it takes from his nature all that is coarse, awkward and unrefined, substituting instead of gallantry of spirit and a gentleness
