The proverb, "The beginning is half the battle," applies in a multitude of ways. In the first instant of a greeting between two people, the ground upon which they meet should be indicated. Cordiality, reserve, distrust, confidence, caution, condescension, deference—whatever the real or the assumed attitude may be, should be shown unmistakably when eyes meet and heads bend in the ceremony of greeting.

To put into this initial manner the essence of the manner which one chooses to maintain throughout is one of the fine touches of diplomacy. People fail to do this when their effusively gracious condescension subsequently develops into snobbishness, or when an austere stiffness of demeanor belies the friendliness which they really intend to manifest. The latter fault is often due to diffidence or awkward self-consciousness; the former is usually traceable to the caprice of an undisciplined nature, and is a significant mark of ill-breeding.

The vital part of a greeting is in the expression of the eyes. This is so nearly spontaneous that the most guarded cannot altogether veil the spirit that looks out of these "windows of the soul." The studied attitude and genuflection fail to hide surliness or contempt; and hostility, bitter and implacable, may reveal itself by the smoldering spark of anger in the eye, and destroy the effect of the most artful obsequiousness of manner. Since we cannot control this one impulsively-truthful medium of expression, it becomes a matter of policy as well as of morals to harbor no spirits whose "possession" of us would be an unpleasant and inconvenient revelation.

Next to the eyes, the pose of the figure indicates the sentiment of the moment. Arrogant assumption of superiority may be read in the expanded chest, the stiffened neck, and the head thrown backward at a decided angle; or, subservient humility is seen in the forward-bending head and the wilted droop of the shoulders. And again, the difference between a real humility and the artificial deference which gallantry prompts is easily detected. The gallant's head and shoulders are bowed, but not in meekness, for there is a certain tension in the controlled muscles that suggests that he can "straighten up" at will, whereas the really humble man appears to have no power to lift his bowed head or equally drooping spirit.

The bending of the head and trunk, or the "bow," is the final and most active exponent of the spirit of the greeting. In its degrees and gradations are marked the degrees of deference, real or formal.

The bow begins at the head, and may observe the following gradations:

It may be an inclination of the head only, differing from a "nod" in the dignity of movement.

The inclination may extend to the shoulders, causing a slightly perceptible forward leaning. This inclination may continue to the waist line.

The extreme inclination bends the entire trunk from the hips. The legs are straight and the feet near together, in the attitude of "position" in free gymnastics.

In every bow, of whatever gradation, the movement should be slow, the eye steady, the face serene, and the whole demeanor expressive of polite interest in the object. An averted eye is disrespectful, and suggests insincerity or treachery. Not that it always means either; the "drooping eyelash" is affected by many women as gracefully expressive of feminine modesty. It may be coquettish, but there is nothing particularly womanly in never looking a man in the eye. Search the face that confronts you, and learn what manner of man this is whom you are receiving into your company and fellowship. If he quails under the inquisition, so much the worse for him. If he is worth looking at, it is a pity to miss the sight. Moreover, we more than half suspect that a woman's face is more attractive if her eyes occasionally "look up clear," instead of allowing the downcast lids to hide all of their vivacity and expression.

The gayety or the gravity of the countenance may serve to measure the cordiality or the reserve which respectively distinguish two "bows"—exactly alike as to movement, and equally courteous, the one inviting confidence, the other repelling familiarity. The time, the place, and the occasion, and the mutual relations of people, decide the essential character of the appropriate bow. It must always be the exponent of the nature and disposition of the individual, and of his relation to the person whom he greets. No one has precisely the same manner for any two people of his acquaintance—that is, if he has any vital manner at all. We are to others largely what they inspire us to be, and only lifeless indifference reduces "manner" to one same automatic manifestation. The life of a social greeting is in its exclusive spirit, and though the variations of outward manner are difficult to trace, it is a graceful and flattering thing to make this specialty of manner felt in every greeting extended. Perhaps, after all, it is the eye that controls this, as the spirit within controls the eye.

In general, the manner of a greeting should be optimistic, free from ungracious suspicion, and indicating a cheerful willingness to take people at their best; and even when most sternly forbidding intrusiveness, it should appear that the repulse is for good cause, and is not merely the expression of a capricious and unfounded arrogance. The latter quality, quite as often as not, characterizes the manner of snobs toward people who are infinitely their superiors in all that indicates character and breeding.

The "curtsey"—or "courtesy"—is a feature of the minuet, and revived with the old-fashioned dance. It is a pretty bit of old-time grace, and is appropriate in responding to formal introductions and greetings in the drawing-room, especially when paying respect to elderly people. It is most effective when executed in a costume of voluminous draperies. It is a woman's ceremonial; no man ever "curtseys." The regulation "bow" is the only "deference" that gracefully combines with a dress suit.

The courtesy is a strictly formal obeisance, and the courtly reverence which it embodies is something more abstract than concrete, not necessarily inspired by the person to whom its deference is shown. Like all greetings exchanged in the midst of crowds or in public places, it is somewhat impersonal in manner. Personal recognitions and distinctions are reserved for more private occasions. One's greetings to fellow-guests at a reception are uniformly affable, irrespective of personal preferences. Though our dearest friend and our direst foe both be present, we must not pointedly discriminate between them; we are not at liberty to use the parlors of our host for either a lover's tryst or a duelling-ground.

A guest's first duty on entering a parlor or drawing-room is to pay his or her respects to the hostess and the ladies who are receiving with her. Gentlemen should also make it a point to find the host as soon as possible, and extend to him a similar courtesy. The host, in turn, when not receiving formally with the hostess, roams at large, giving a hospitable greeting to each lady among his guests.

In America, when a lady and gentleman meet, after being duly introduced, it is the lady's privilege to bow first. This rule protects her from the intrusion of an unwelcome acquaintance. But when the acquaintance is established and mutually agreeable, the rule is immaterial.

In general, the elder or the more distinguished person bows first. But if the one who for any reason would be the proper one to take the initiative is known to be near-sighted, and liable to overlook an acquaintance unintentionally, it is more polite for the other person not to stand on ceremony.

It is interesting to note that on the continent of Europe the rule regarding recognitions is exactly reversed. The subject bows first to the king, the courtier to the lady; deference to a superior, rather than social equality, being expressed by the bow.

One of the moot questions of the day is, "When is it proper to introduce people to each other?" The strictest etiquette forbids casual social introductions, or the introducing of any two people at any time without the consent of both parties. It is argued that people who meet in a drawing-room as fellow-guests are introduced, by that mere fact, sufficiently for the social purposes of the hour; and they may engage in conversation, if they choose, without the least hesitancy; both understanding that this interchange involves no acquaintance beyond the present occasion. By this arrangement an awkward silence is averted, and it certainly seems as if the chief argument in favor of "introducing people" is met; since, with "the roof" as their transient introduction, they are perfectly at ease without personal introductions. When people are used to this idea it is altogether the most sensible and agreeable solution of the question; but many social assemblies demonstrate that a large number of people are yet waiting to be introduced, and not without some feeling of resentment when this ceremony is neglected. Let it be understood that any one is at liberty to speak to a fellow-guest without an introduction; also, that such a "talk" does not warrant any subsequent claim of acquaintance. If in the course of this impromptu chat mutual interest is awakened, either one may later seek an introduction in due form through some common friend.

On informal occasions, when few guests are present, especially in country towns, it may be more kindly and social to give personal introductions; and the good sense of this idea, probably, is founded on the fact that under these conditions a hostess can be reasonably sure that the acquaintance will be congenial. To the villager many of the extreme rules of etiquette are unreasonable, because the conditions that enforce them in town life are not present in the life of the quiet hamlet. The rule regarding introductions is one which must be modified to suit circumstances. It is one of the cases when various delicate considerations may justify exceptions. The lady who in her city home introduces nobody, may in her country home introduce everybody, if that seems best. In the matter of delicate exceptions we observe the most significant display of tact.

When introductions are made, gentlemen should be presented to ladies, younger people to older people, etc. The formula for introductions may be abbreviated to a mere announcement of the two names: "Mr. Smith—Mrs. Jones"—the pause and inflection filling the ellipsis; and really, upon the tone and manner depends the courtesy of the introduction so barren of phrasing. A formal presentation is made in this form:—"Miss Smith, allow me to present Mr. Jones."

Tact suggests that a hostess shall avoid bringing uncongenial people together; but if this unfortunately happens through ignorance or thoughtlessness, tact with equal urgency requires that the guests thus inauspiciously mingled shall not allow any one, not even the hostess herself, to discover the mistake. The same rule which allows perfect strangers to be agreeably social for an hour, and then part as strangers yet, certainly will grant to enemies a similar privilege.

The woman who conscientiously, and perfectly, hides her personal animosities rather than mar the harmony of the social circle, is doing her part to keep the world in tune.

The offer of the social right hand of fellowship is a tacit recognition of equality. Hand-shaking is said to be an American habit. Certainly the social conditions in a republic are favorable to such a custom. It is a pity that a mode so adapted to express the warmth and loyalty of friendship should be indiscriminately employed in casual greetings. The pressure of the hand should mean more than it can mean, when, as now, it is bestowed with equal alacrity on life-long friend and recent acquaintance.

Fastidious and sensitive people are rather conservative in hand-shaking. Etiquette allows considerable latitude. It is proper and graceful, but not required, for two men to shake hands when introduced. A lady does not usually shake hands with a new acquaintance, unless the circumstances of the introduction make her responsible for allowing special cordiality, as when a person is introduced to her in her own house. A host and hostess shake hands with a guest; they may omit to shake hands with the same person when they meet him elsewhere.

Whatever one's personal impulse, it is polite to defer to the evident preference of another; and to shake hands heartily if a hand is cordially extended, or to refrain from proffering the hand when reserve is evident in the manner of the other person.

Hand-shaking as a conventional ceremony should be as impersonal and as void of significance as possible. The clasp of the hand should be firm but brief; not hasty, yet not prolonged; and the fingers should relax and loosen their hold at once, not dropping listlessly, nor retaining a lingering pressure. When a lady gives her hand to a guest she expects to get it back again almost immediately, and in an uncrushed condition. To hold another's hand until he or she is conscious of the detaining grasp is a liberty that only trusted friends may take.

At the same time, a hearty manner of greeting may be the fashion in some places; and to meet it otherwise than cheerfully would seem churlish, according to local standards. It is always well-bred—as well as politic—to conform to local customs so far as is consistent with dignity.

Another custom, gradually going out, is the woman's fashion of kissing effusively each woman-friend of her acquaintance. This senseless habit has no excuse for being. When kissing is the language of impulsive affection, etiquette has nothing to say about it except to demand that the general public shall not be called upon to witness the ceremony. Public thoroughfares and thronged social assemblies we not the proper places for such demonstrations. Nothing is less interesting than other people's kisses, unless it be the gushing recital of private affairs with which these unguarded people also entertain every stranger within earshot. When scenes like these are observed at railroad stations and on board of trains when demonstrative leave-taking is in progress, we may forgive the exhibition since the circumstances warrant more than usual impulsiveness and forgetfulness of surroundings. But when the most common-place meeting of acquaintances, who see each other every day, is attended with these phenomena, etiquette, as well as common-sense, enters a severe protest. The kiss, which should be the most exclusive symbol of friendship, becomes the most insignificant form of greeting.

It is not proper, according to strict etiquette, to give the kiss of greeting in public places; but when near relatives or cherished friends do choose thus to greet each other, the kiss should be exchanged unobtrusively and with dignity; conversation on private matters should be conducted in subdued tones, and a well-bred gravity—quite consistent with cheerfulness—should characterize the manner.

It would be well if every person in society should register a solemn resolution never to kiss anybody unless prompted to do so by the irresistible impulse of affection. It is safe to say that nine-tenths of the kisses of social greeting would be dispensed with. The quality of the remaining tenth would doubtless be proportionately improved.