“Grace is better than formalism. This is the moral of Eulalia’s example, and the truth applies to other things than manners. There is a good deal of formal moralism in this country that is about as useless and uncomfortable as the etiquette of old Spain.”
Eulalia’s Example
There are many signs that the Columbian Exposition is going to affect the beginning of a radical change in many of our conventional and most cherished ideas. Begun as an industrial exposition to show the growth of the civilized world in material comfort during the last four hundred years, it has become already much more interesting from an esthetic than from an industrial point of view.
Vast as are the wonders, and we might almost say the miracles, wrought by mechanism and electricity that are displayed at the Great Fair, the things that have most concerned the public mind have not been matters of work and energy, but matters of conduct and enjoyment. It is the ‘nude art’ and the ‘open Sunday’ that have chiefly engaged the attention of our people. The discussions that have aroused interest have not been how shall we increase wealth and multiply luxuries, but how we shall make our conventional morals conform to the growing desire for beauty and for enjoyment.
We do not intend to go over again this morning the old arguments for or against the essential purity of beauty even when exhibited in the undraped human form, nor recall the arguments on one side or the other, concerning the use of Sunday as a holiday or a holy day. With all phases of these debates our readers are sufficiently acquainted and would hardly be grateful for another direct review of them, it will be interesting, however, to consider them for a moment indirectly, and to catch, as it were, a glimpse of them in distant perspective, seen as a background to something else that harmonizes with them and in a way illumes them. We would ask our readers, then, to consider for a moment how these old issues appear in the light of Eulalia’s example?
The subject deserves an essay, but we can do no more than sketch the outlines. Let it be remembered how, when it was first announced that the Princess Eulalia was coming to America, there broke out everywhere a portentuous discussion as to how we should receive Spanish royalty. We heard a great deal about the formal etiquette of the majestic Court of the Escurial. Diplomatists debated who should receive her, and how and when and where. Ward McAllister issued a manifesto on the subject. Society studied and argued, and Statesmen took to gossiping about it. Everybody who would be immediately concerned in receiving the Princess, seemed to be in a nervous dread of the approaching ordeal, and when at one time it was announced that she was not coming at all because her hauteur had been offended by a lack of sufficient reverance for her august station, many of our dignitaries and our social leaders drew a breath of relief in the momentary hope that the danger was over and that our Republican manners would not be subjected to the fearful strain.
The Princess came, however, in due season, and the trembling world of New York went out to meet her. It went prepared with bows and curtsies and genuflexions to do her honor. To the amazement of everybody, the Princess came forward and shook hands with those who welcomed her and began at once to talk like a woman who is glad to be alive. She not only showed no hauteur, but manifested a genuine Democratic expectation of a good time. She stood up on her carriage and blew kisses to a New York crowd until it nearly went crazy with rapture. She did the same thing in Washington. She never said a word about Cleveland’s not returning her call, nor raised a single question of etiquette.
On her visit to West Point, she showed a gentle graciousness to the widow of General Grant by running back into the hotel at the last moment to shake hands with her and bid her good bye. A similar graceful act was shown on Decoration Day, when she drove out Riverside Avenue to lay with her own hands a wreath upon the tomb of Grant. She turned, moreover, from affairs of State to ordinary life with an equal gaiety. She went to the horse races and bet on the favorite. When she lost, she laughed; and when she won, she ordered the money to be given to the poor. She dined at a racing banquet merrily, and when it was over and cigars were passed round, she lit a cigarette and stayed with the company.
In short, she has shown nothing of the conventional dignity of royalty, but everything of the natural grace of a happy and lively going womanhood. This exemplar of royal conduct, coming into the country at the exact moment when we are discussing how far conventional ideas may be thrown aside in order to give free play to the artistic and joyous faculties, cannot fail to exert a considerable influence on the public mind. How unpleasant was our conception of Spanish royalty! How pleasing has been our experience of Spanish grace! Perhaps we may learn from this that if we can get rid of our formal art and our formal Sunday, we may find in place of them a grace ot life far happier and far better for the world.
Eulalia’s example shows what a womanhood unrestrained by conventional etiquette can do. It is a womanhood full of charm for the crowd, full of dignity for official rank, full of gentle reverence for the aged woman, full of honor for the illustrious dead, and yet withal not too high and good to love the pleasant things of life and enjoy them with all her heart. Much that she has done, will seem to our ideas more like a soubrette than a Princess, and yet it cannot be denied that it is much better than the stiff and stately etiquette that we feared.
Grace is better than formalism. This is the moral of Eulalia’s example, and the truth applies to other things than manners. There is a good deal of formal moralism in this country that is about as useless and uncomfortable as the etiquette of old Spain. There is no reason why the growing artistic spirit of America should remain forever fettered by old ideas. There is no reason why it should not break loose from conventional trammels in this Columbian year and disport itself as freely and as gracefully for the joy of all as our royal visitor has done in her frank acceptance of our Democratic ways. — San Jose Mercury News, 1893
Etiquette Enthusiast, Maura J. Graber, is the Site Editor for Etiquipedia© Etiquette Encyclopedia
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