LONDON, November 3, O. S. 1749.
DEAR BOY: From the time that you have had life, it has been the principle
and favorite object of mine, to make you as perfect as the imperfections
of human nature will allow: in this view, I have grudged no pains nor
expense in your education; convinced that education, more than nature, is
the cause of that great difference which you see in the characters of
men. While you were a child, I endeavored to form your heart habitually
to virtue and honor, before your understanding was capable of showing you
their beauty and utility. Those principles, which you then got, like your
grammar rules, only by rote, are now, I am persuaded, fixed and confirmed
by reason. And indeed they are so plain and clear, that they require but
a very moderate degree of understanding, either to comprehend or practice
them. Lord Shaftesbury says, very prettily, that he would be virtuous for
his own sake, though nobody were to know it; as he would be clean for his
own sake, though nobody were to see him. I have therefore, since you have
had the use of your reason, never written to you upon those subjects:
they speak best for themselves; and I should now just as soon think of
warning you gravely not to fall into the dirt or the fire, as into
dishonor or vice. This view of mine, I consider as fully attained. My
next object was sound and useful learning. My own care first, Mr. Harte’s
afterward, and OF LATE (I will own it to your praise) your own
application, have more than answered my expectations in that particular;
and, I have reason to believe, will answer even my wishes. All that
remains for me then to wish, to recommend, to inculcate, to order, and to
insist upon, is good-breeding; without which, all your other
qualifications will be lame, unadorned, and to a certain degree
unavailing. And here I fear, and have too much reason to believe, that
you are greatly deficient. The remainder of this letter, therefore, shall
be (and it will not be the last by a great many) upon that subject.
A friend of yours and mine has very justly defined good-breeding to be,
THE RESULT OF MUCH GOOD SENSE, SOME GOOD NATURE, AND A LITTLE SELF-DENIAL
FOR THE SAKE OF OTHERS, AND WITH A VIEW TO OBTAIN THE SAME INDULGENCE
FROM THEM. Taking this for granted (as I think it cannot be disputed), it
is astonishing to me that anybody who has good sense and good nature (and
I believe you have both), can essentially fail in good-breeding. As to
the modes of it, indeed, they vary according to persons, and places, and
circumstances; and are only to be acquired by observation and experience:
but the substance of it is everywhere and eternally the same. Good
manners are, to particular societies, what good morals are to society in
general; their cement and their security. And, as laws are enacted to
enforce good morals, or at least to prevent the ill effects of bad ones;
so there are certain rules of civility, universally implied and received,
to enforce good manners and punish bad ones. And, indeed, there seems to
me to be less difference, both between the crimes and between the
punishments than at first one would imagine. The immoral man, who invades
another man’s property, is justly hanged for it; and the ill-bred man,
who, by his ill-manners, invades and disturbs the quiet and comforts of
private life, is by common consent as justly banished society. Mutual
complaisances, attentions, and sacrifices of little conveniences, are as
natural an implied compact between civilized people, as protection and
obedience are between kings and subjects; whoever, in either case,
violates that compact, justly forfeits all advantages arising from it.
For my own part, I really think, that next to the consciousness of doing
a good action, that of doing a civil one is the most pleasing; and the
epithet which I should covet the most, next to that of Aristides, would
be that of well-bred. Thus much for good-breeding in general; I will now
consider some of the various modes and degrees of it.
Very few, scarcely any, are wanting in the respect which they should show
to those whom they acknowledge to be infinitely their superiors; such as
crowned heads, princes, and public persons of distinguished and eminent
posts. It is the manner of showing that respect which is different. The
man of fashion and of the world, expresses it in its fullest extent; but
naturally, easily, and without concern: whereas a man, who is not used to
keep good company, expresses it awkwardly; one sees that he is not used
to it, and that it costs him a great deal: but I never saw the worst-bred
man living guilty of lolling, whistling, scratching his head, and
such-like indecencies, in company that he respected. In such companies,
therefore, the only point to be attended to is to show that respect,
which everybody means to show, in an easy, unembarrassed, and graceful
manner. This is what observation and experience must teach you.
In mixed companies, whoever is admitted to make part of them, is, for the
time at least, supposed to be upon a footing of equality with the rest:
and consequently, as there is no one principal object of awe and respect,
people are apt to take a greater latitude in their behavior, and to be
less upon their guard; and so they may, provided it be within certain
bounds, which are upon no occasion to be transgressed. But, upon these
occasions, though no one is entitled to distinguished marks of respect,
everyone claims, and very justly, every mark of civility and
good-breeding. Ease is allowed, but carelessness and negligence are
strictly forbidden. If a man accosts you, and talks to you ever so dully
or frivolously, it is worse than rudeness, it is brutality, to show him,
by a manifest inattention to what he says, that you think him a fool or a
blockhead, and not worth hearing. It is much more so with regard to
women; who, of whatever rank they are, are entitled, in consideration of
their sex, not only to an attentive, but an officious good-breeding from
men. Their little wants, likings, dislikes, preferences, antipathies,
fancies, whims, and even impertinencies, must be officiously attended to,
flattered, and, if possible, guessed at and anticipated by a well-bred
man. You must never usurp to yourself those conveniences and ‘agremens’
which are of common right; such as the best places, the best dishes,
etc., but on the contrary, always decline them yourself, and offer them
to others; who, in their turns, will offer them to you; so that, upon the
whole, you will in your turn enjoy your share of the common right. It
would be endless for me to enumerate all the particular instances in
which a well-bred man shows his good-breeding in good company; and it
would be injurious to you to suppose that your own good sense will not
point them out to you; and then your own good-nature will recommend, and
your self-interest enforce the practice.
There is a third sort of good-breeding, in which people are the most apt
to fail, from a very mistaken notion that they cannot fail at all. I mean
with regard to one’s most familiar friends and acquaintances, or those
who really are our inferiors; and there, undoubtedly, a greater degree of
ease is not only allowed, but proper, and contributes much to the
comforts of a private, social life. But that ease and freedom have their
bounds too, which must by no means be violated. A certain degree of
negligence and carelessness becomes injurious and insulting, from the
real or supposed inferiority of the persons: and that delightful liberty
of conversation among a few friends is soon destroyed, as liberty often
has been, by being carried to licentiousness. But example explains things
best, and I will put a pretty strong case. Suppose you and me alone
together; I believe you will allow that I have as good a right to
unlimited freedom in your company, as either you or I can possibly have
in any other; and I am apt to believe too, that you would indulge me in
that freedom as far as anybody would. But, notwithstanding this, do you
imagine that I should think there were no bounds to that freedom? I
assure you, I should not think so; and I take myself to be as much tied
down by a certain degree of good manners to you, as by other degrees of
them to other people. Were I to show you, by a manifest inattention to
what you said to me, that I was thinking of something else the whole
time; were I to yawn extremely, snore, or break wind in your company, I
should think that I behaved myself to you like a beast, and should not
expect that you would care to frequent me. No. The most familiar and
intimate habitudes, connections, and friendships, require a degree of
good-breeding, both to preserve and cement them. If ever a man and his
wife, or a man and his mistress, who pass nights as well as days
together, absolutely lay aside all good-breeding, their intimacy will
soon degenerate into a coarse familiarity, infallibly productive of
contempt or disgust. The best of us have our bad sides, and it is as
imprudent, as it is ill-bred, to exhibit them. I shall certainly not use
ceremony with you; it would be misplaced between us: but I shall
certainly observe that degree of good-breeding with you, which is, in the
first place, decent, and which I am sure is absolutely necessary to make
us like one another’s company long.
I will say no more, now, upon this important subject of good-breeding,
upon which I have already dwelt too long, it may be, for one letter; and
upon which I shall frequently refresh your memory hereafter; but I will
conclude with these axioms:
That the deepest learning, without good-breeding, is unwelcome and
tiresome pedantry, and of use nowhere but in a man’s own closet; and
consequently of little or no use at all.
That a man, Who is not perfectly well-bred, is unfit for good company and
unwelcome in it; will consequently dislike it soon, afterward renounce
it; and be reduced to solitude, or, what is worse, low and bad company.
That a man who is not well-bred, is full as unfit for business as for
company.
Make then, my dear child, I conjure you, good-breeding the great object
of your thoughts and actions, at least half the day. Observe carefully
the behavior and manners of those who are distinguished by their
good-breeding; imitate, nay, endeavor to excel, that you may at least
reach them; and be convinced that good-breeding is, to all worldly
qualifications, what charity is to all Christian virtues. Observe how it
adorns merit, and how often it covers the want of it. May you wear it to
adorn, and not to cover you! Adieu.