Life Back Then: A Warning for Young Romance from 1869

If you think awkward goodbyes and social anxiety are modern inventions, an old column from The Dexter Leader, December 23, 1869, would like a word.

Tucked into the paper under the earnest headline “An Appeal to Young Men,” this late-19th-century advice column offers a surprisingly funny and relatable glimpse into courtship etiquette “back then.” The writer, “One Who Suffers,” addresses young men between the ages of 18 and 45 with the very specific plea of “don’t stay too long when you call on a young lady.”

According to the writer, an hour is polite. An hour and a half is pushing it. Anything longer is where trouble begins.

The column creates a vivid picture of a young woman sitting nervously as the clock ticks past ten, fully aware that her parents, especially her father, are keenly aware of the hour. The young man may think he’s being charming, but upstairs, parental patience is wearing thin. The girl, meanwhile, is described as perched “on the edge of her chair, in mortal terror,” waiting for the dreaded moment when a parent might come downstairs and invite the gentleman to breakfast. (This, apparently, was not the opportunity it sounds like.)

The writer assures young men that most sensible girls actually prefer shorter visits, noting that brief calls leave a better impression and make future visits more welcome. Stay too long, and the evening’s charm evaporates into monosyllabic replies, awkward silences, and the unmistakable sound of someone calling down the stairs: “Isn’t it time to close up?”

There’s also a humorous human aside about restless sleep afterward, how even once the young man has safely departed, dreams may still be haunted by visions of an angry father and a distressed mother. All of it, the writer insists, could be avoided with better timekeeping.

The advice firmly ends with the admonition of not getting angry when you’re shown the door. Take it as a lesson. Come again, but next time, keep it within bounds.

More than a century later, the language may be flowery and the social rules long changed, but the core message feels oddly familiar. Knowing when to leave, reading the room, and sparing everyone a painfully awkward moment? That’s timeless wisdom.

Some things really don’t change—only the setting, the staircase, and perhaps the clock on the wall.