There is a _bienséance_ with regard to people of the lowest degree; a
gentleman observes it with his footman, even with the beggar in the
street. He considers them as objects of compassion, not of insult; he
speaks to neither _d'un ton brusque_, but corrects the one coolly, and
refuses the other with humanity. There is no one occasion in the
world, in which _le ton brusque_ is becoming a gentleman. In short,
_les bienséances_ are another word for manners, and extend to every
part of life. They are propriety; the Graces should attend in order to
complete them: the Graces enable us to do genteelly and pleasingly
what _les bienséances_ require to be done at all. The latter are an
obligation upon every man; the former are an infinite advantage and
ornament to any man.
People unused to the world have babbling countenances, and are
unskilful enough to show what they have sense enough not to tell. In
the course of the world, a man must very often put on an easy, frank
countenance, upon very disagreeable occasions; he must seem pleased,
when he is very much otherwise; he must be able to accost and receive
with smiles those whom he would much rather meet with swords. In
courts he must not turn himself inside out. All this may, nay, must be
done, without falsehood and treachery: for it must go no further than
politeness and manners, and must stop short of assurances and
professions of simulated friendship. Good manners to those one does
not love are no more a breach of truth than "your humble servant," at
the bottom of a challenge, is; they are universally agreed upon and
understood to be things of course. They are necessary guards of the
decency and peace of society: they must only act defensively; and then
not with arms poisoned with perfidy. Truth, but not the whole truth,
must be the invariable principle of every man who hath either
religion, honor, or prudence.
I can not help forming some opinion of a man's sense and character
from his dress; and I believe most people do as well as myself. Any
affectation whatsoever in dress implies in my mind a flaw in the
understanding.... A man of sense carefully avoids any particular
character in his dress; he is accurately clean for his own sake; but
all the rest is for other people's. He dresses as well, and in the
same manner, as the people of sense and fashion of the place where he
is. If he dresses better, as he thinks--that is, more than they--he is
a fop; if he dresses worse, he is unpardonably negligent: but of the
two, I would rather have a young fellow too much than too little
drest, the excess on that side will wear off with a little age and
reflection; but if he is negligent at twenty, he will be a sloven at
forty and stink at fifty years old. Dress yourself fine where others
are fine, and plain where others are plain; but take care always that
your clothes are well made and fit you, for otherwise they will give
you a very awkward air. When you are once well drest for the day,
think no more of it afterward; and without any stiffness or fear of
discomposing that dress, let all your motions be as easy and natural
as if you had no clothes on at all.
A friend of yours and mine has 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 can not 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, 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 punishments, than at first one would
imagine.... 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."
Men who converse only with women are frivolous, effeminate puppies,
and those who never converse with them are bears.
The desire of being pleased is universal. The desire of pleasing
should be so too. Misers are not so much blamed for being misers as
envied for being rich.
Dissimulation, to a certain degree, is as necessary in business as
clothes are in the common intercourse of life; and a man would be as
imprudent who should exhibit his inside naked, as he would be indecent
if he produced his outside so.
A woman will be implicitly governed by the man whom she is in love
with, but will not be directed by the man whom she esteems the most.
The former is the result of passion, which is her character; the
latter must be the effect of reasoning, which is by no means of the
feminine gender.
The best moral virtues are those of which the vulgar are, perhaps, the
best judges.
Let us, then, not only scatter benefits, but even strew flowers, for
our fellow travelers in the rugged ways of this wretched world.
Your duty to man is very short and clear; it is only to do to him
whatever you would be willing that he should do to you. And remember
in all the business of your life to ask your conscience this question,
Should I be willing that this should be done to me? If your
conscience, which will always tell you truth, answers no, do not do
that thing. Observe these rules, and you will be happy in this world
and still happier in the next.
Carefully avoid all affectation either of mind or body. It is a very
true and a very trite observation that no man is ridiculous for being
what he really is, but for affecting to be what he is not. No man is
awkward by nature, but by affecting to be genteel, and I have known
many a man of common sense pass generally for a fool because he
affected a degree of wit that God had denied him. A plowman is by no
means awkward in the exercise of his trade, but would be exceedingly
ridiculous if he attempted the airs and grace of a man of fashion.
What is commonly called in the world a man or a woman of spirit are
the two most detestable and most dangerous animals that inhabit it.
They are strong-headed, captious, jealous, offended without reason,
and offending with as little. The man of spirit has immediate
recourse to his sword, and the woman of spirit to her tongue, and it
is hard to say which of the two is the most mischievous weapon.
Speak to the King with full as little concern (tho with more respect)
as you would to your equals. This is the distinguishing characteristic
of a gentleman and a man of the world.
That silly article of dress is no trifle. Never be the first nor the
last in the fashion. Wear as fine clothes as those of your rank
commonly do, and rather better than worse, and when you are well drest
once a day do not seem to know that you have any clothes on at all,
but let your carriage and motion be as easy as they would be in your
nightgowns.
Let your address when you first come into any company be modest, but
without the least bashfulness or sheepishness, steady without
impudence, and as unembarrassed as if you were in your own room. This
is a difficult point to hit, and therefore deserves great attention;
nothing but a long usage of the world and in the best company can
possibly give it.