Physical culture may be a "fad," but its aesthetic results are conceded.
The graceful control of the body is the basis of a fine manner.

It is an opinion of long standing that children should be taught to dance in order to develop grace of movement. Yet dancing, merely, gives but a limited training of the muscles compared with the all-round exercise now taken in gymnasiums and classes for physical culture. It is recommended that all who are deficient in "manner," or who suffer an embarrassing self-consciousness because of their awkwardness of pose or movement, should take a course of training under an intelligent teacher, until every muscle learns its proper office. With the self-command which this training gives, ease of manner and dignity of bearing follow naturally; to say nothing of the serenity of mind that lies back of all this pleasing exterior.

The effect of this bodily grace is to prepossess the beholder. First impressions are received through the eye. Before a word is spoken, the pose and carriage convey a significant announcement of character and breeding.

A thorough practical knowledge of elocution and constant application of its principles to conversational utterances are requisite to refined speech. Errors in pronunciation, hasty and indistinct enunciation, the dropping out of entire syllables in curt phrasing, are common faults of careless people who know better, and who would be very much chagrined to find themselves accounted to be as ignorant as their speech might indicate them to be.

A varied vocabulary used with discrimination indicates intelligence and culture. A single word uttered may reveal grace, or betray awkwardness. In the social interchange, one must not only suit the action to the word, but equally suit the word to the action. Careless speech often belies civil intentions.

Say "Thank-you," not "Thanks,"—a lazy and disrespectful abbreviation. If you say "Pardon me," let your manner indicate a dignified apology. "I beg your pardon," is sometimes only the insolent preface to a flat and angry contradiction. In most phrases of compliment, the words derive their real significance from the manner of the speaker.

There is a difference of opinion as to whether people of social equality should add "Sir" and "Ma'am" to the responses "Yes" and "No"; and especially, whether children should be taught to do so. The English fashion—largely copied by Americans—does not favor it. Certainly, children can learn to say "Yes" and "No" with the courteous manner that implies all that the added "Sir" might convey. But, are not some young Americans too ready to take advantage of this permitted lapse of verbal deference? And, back of the verbal lapse is there not a distinct lapse of the deference itself? It might be well to begin to counteract this irreverent tendency of the age, by cultivating a more respectful and appreciative spirit. Then, the polite word will come spontaneously to the lips. It will be a matter of morals, essentially: of manners, incidentally.

Deplorable as a heedless curtness of speech is, it is hardly more unpleasant than the artificial mincing of words that some children are drilled into (or learn by imitation of their elders). This superficial effusiveness, supposed to be "pretty" manners, is related more to subjective vanity than to objective courtesy. Not allowed to say "Sir," they substitute the name or title of the person addressed,—which, when introduced occasionally and unobtrusively, is a graceful personal recognition; but when overdone, as too often observed, the constant iteration of "Yes, Mr. Brown,"—"No, Mrs. Black," etc., grows to be a maddening exposition of precocious affectation.

Having observed the vagaries of this fashion in phrasing for several years, I have come to the conclusion that the plain "Sir" of former times,—which, to the "well-brought-up" child, was a practical application of the Fifth Commandment,—is much to be preferred to the fussy elaboration of personal address that has superseded it. Indications at present are, that the old-fashioned "Sir" and "Madam" are coming into their own again, among truly courteous people.

But whatever the fickle fashion of the hour may be, it is important to enforce the truth that the spirit of words and deeds is the essence of good manners. If this right spirit be lacking, no words can fill the blank. If an ugly spirit dwells within, no word of compliment can veil its evil face.

But though the good spirit be there, with all its generous impulses and kindly feeling, it needs the concrete expression; otherwise, its very existence may remain unknown. "A man that hath friends must show himself friendly." Pose, bearing, facial expression, the winning smile,—all these are silently eloquent; but, to convey the perfect message from soul to soul, there must be added the "word fitly spoken."