of the pilgrims of earth, whose feet are descending the narrowing vale
that leads to the dim obscure unpenetrated by mortal eyes, are easily
pained by even the semblance of indifference or neglect. They are
sensitively alive to every intimation that their places in the busy
arena of active life are already better filled by others; that they are
rather tolerated than essential. Those who are most worthy of regard are
least likely to be insensible to such influences. Remember, then, that
you should never run the race of life so "fast" as to encroach upon the
established claims of your predecessors in the course. Nor would the
most prematurely sage young man be entirely unbenefited, it may be, by
availing himself occasionally of the accumulated experience, erudition,
and knowledge of the world, possessed by many a quiet "old fogy," whose
unassuming manners, modest self-respect, and pure integrity present a
just model to "Young America," albeit, perchance, too old-fashioned to
be deemed worthy of attention!
While the general proposition--that manner is, to a considerable extent
_character in action_, is undoubtedly correct, we occasionally see the
exact converse painfully exemplified. It sometimes occurs that the most
amiable persons labor through life under the disadvantage of a diffident
or awkward manner, which does great injustice to their intrinsic
excellences. And this is but another evidence of the necessity of the
earliest attention to this subject.
Though no one should be discouraged in an endeavor to remedy the defects
arising from neglect, in this respect (and, indeed, it may properly be
considered as affording room for ceaseless advancement, like every other
portion of the earthly education of immortal beings), few persons,
perhaps, ever completely overcome the difficulties arising from
inattention to this important branch of education, while youthful
pliancy renders the formation of habits comparatively easy.
The early acquisition of habits of self-possession and self-control,
will furnish the surest basis for the formation of correct manners. With
this should be united, as far as is practicable, constant association
with well-educated and well-bred persons, there is no friction like this
to produce external polish, nor can the most elaborate rules furnish an
effectual substitute for the ease that practice alone secures.
Lose no opportunity, therefore, for studiously observing the best
_living models_, not for the purpose of attempting an undiscriminating
imitation of even the most perfect, but, as an original and gifted
artist derives advantage from studying works of genius, by the great
masters of art, to avail yourself of the matured knowledge resulting
from experience.
* * * * *
But now for an exemplary anecdote or two:--
"Colonel Lunettes, do you know some gentleman going to U---- in this
train?" inquired my friend ex-Governor T----, extending his hand to me
in the car-house of one of our western cities. "I wish to place a very
pretty young lady under the care of some suitable person for a short
time, until she joins a party of friends."
"Really, my dear sir, I regret that I have just arrived," returned I;
"you tempt me to turn about and go over the ground again."
"Uncle T----, there is H---- B---- just getting out of that car," cried
a young lady, approaching us, with two or three fair companions,
"perhaps he is going on."
At this moment a young man, in a dress that might have been that of the
roughest back-woodsman, approached the group.
He wore a very broad-brimmed, coarse straw hat, capable of serving the
double purpose of umbrella and _chapeau_, his hands were incased in
strong gauntlet-gloves, and he carried a large engineer's field-book
under one arm.
Removing his hat, as he somewhat hesitatingly advanced, and passing his
hand over a beard of several days' growth, glancing downward, at the
same time, upon heavy-soled boots, thickly encrusted with dry mud--
"Ladies," said he, "I am too dirty to come near you; I have been
surveying in the swamps in this neighborhood for several days past,
camping out, and jumped upon the cars a few miles back, bound for my
stationary quarters and--the _blessings of civilization_!" And, with the
color deepening in his sun-burnt face, he bowed to us all, with a grace
that Count d'Orsay could scarcely have exceeded.
The youth was very cordially welcomed by his friends; little Kitty, who
is privileged to say anything, declared she "never saw him look so
handsome;" and, I confess, that even my flinty old heart was favorably
moved towards the young engineer. I admired the good taste that dictated
an explanation of the soiled condition of his clothes (his thick linen
shirt, however, was _clean_); not an absurd apology for not being
_well-dressed_, and I liked his use of the good, significant Saxon word
that most truthfully described his condition.
After an exchange of civilities, turning respectfully to the governor,
he said: "Governor T----, can I be of any service? You seemed to be
looking for some one."
An explanation of the circumstances resulted in the resignation of his
fair charge to the temporary care of this same toil-worn, "dirty" young
engineer, by my friend, who is himself one of the most fastidious and
world-polished of men!
A few days after this trifling adventure, I went, by invitation, to
pass a day with my friend the ex-governor, at his beautiful residence a
little out of the city.
Standing near one of the drawing-room windows, just before dinner, I
observed a gentleman alighting from a carriage, at the entrance of the
mansion. I was struck with his elegant air, as he kissed his hand to
some one who was, like myself, an observer on the occasion.
"There is H---- B----!" exclaimed the joyous voice of pretty Kitty, the
niece of my host, and a little scrutiny, while he was paying his
compliments to the several members of the family, enabled me to
recognize in this graceful stranger the rough-looking youth I had
previously seen at the depot. But what a metamorphosis! He now wore an
entirely modish dinner-dress, exquisitely tasteful in all its
appointments; his coat of the most faultless fit, and boots that
displayed a very small and handsome foot to admirable advantage. I
afterwards noticed, too, that "camping out" in the "swamps" had not,
apparently, impaired the smoothness of the slender fingers and
carefully-cut nails that came under my observation while listening, in
the course of the evening, to the rich voice and guitar accompaniment of
Mr. B----.
"Did Mr. B---- come out in a carriage?" inquired one of the ladies of
the family, in a low tone, of my host, near whom I was standing, when
arrangements were to be made for the return of the guests to town.
"Certainly he did," answered the governor, "Mr. B---- is too much of a
sybarite to heat himself by walking out here to dinner, on such a day as
this."
"And too economical, I have no doubt, judging from his good sense in
other respects," I added, "to spoil a pair of costly dress boots in such
service."
"Mrs. M----, one moment, if you please," said a voice behind us, and
Mrs. M---- (who is the acting mistress of the mansion) took the arm
politely proffered her, and stepped out upon the portico. Presently she
returned--
"Uncle T----," whispered she ("excuse me, Col. Lunettes), John need not
get up our carriage; Mr. B---- has been so polite as to insist upon our
sending the girls home in his, saying that he really prefers to sit
outside, and that the carriage in which he drove out is to be here in a
few minutes."
"He happened to know that John has to be up with the lark, about another
matter," remarked the host, "and"----
"How kind!" returned the lady; "but Mr. B---- does everything so
agreeably that one does not know which to admire most--the charm of his
_manner_, or"----
"The _good breeding_, from which it springs!" exclaimed the governor,
finishing the eulogy.
* * * * *
Attending a lady from the dinner-table at the St. Nicholas, in New York,
she begged me to wait with her for a few minutes, near the passage
conducting to the drawing-rooms, saying, playfully, that she wished to
way-lay a gentleman. "I have been all the morning," she then explained,
"trying to meet a Russian friend of ours, who is certainly staying
here, though we cannot succeed in seeing him. My husband charged me,
before we parted this morning, as he was obliged to go out of town for
the day, with a message for our friend, which he said _must_ be
delivered by me in person. Ah, there he is now!" and she advanced a step
towards an elderly gentleman accompanying a lady.
I released her arm from mine, of course, and retired a little; the other
lady also simultaneously withdrawing. I bowed respectfully to her.
"Have you ever chanced to remark this picture?" inquired the fair
stranger of me, as we stood thus near each other, turning towards the
painting of the patron saint of the Knickerbockers, which graced the
main staircase of the hotel; "it is very appropriately selected."
Nothing could be more unmistakably refined and high-bred than the
bearing of the interlocutor, while we chatted a moment or two longer.
"I beg your pardon, madam, for depriving you of your cavalier; nothing
but necessity could excuse it"--began the lady, who had been talking
earnestly in the meanwhile with the Russian, approaching us. She was at
once relieved from making further explanation.
"Pray don't name it--and allow me to renew my slight acquaintance with
you," offering her hand.
"With pleasure," returned my fair friend, instantly; but she looked a
little puzzled, despite her courtesy.
"I see you do not recollect the weary traveller who was so much obliged
to your politeness in the hotel in Washington, the other night. The only
stranger-lady (turning to her attendant) I have met in this country, who
has rendered me the slightest civility."
All this was, of course, quite unintelligible to me, but later in the
evening I had the honor of being introduced to these strangers, and,
incidentally, received a solution of the mystery.
While a pleasant party with which I had the good fortune to be
associated, was cozily gathered in one of the quiet little drawing-rooms
of the St. Nicholas, the conversation turned upon the difference of
manners in different nations. Let me premise a brief explanation, that
you may the better understand what follows. The Russian gentleman, whom
I had seen in the passage, is Dr. de H----, a distinguished _savant_,
travelling in the service of his imperial master, and the lady whom he
was attending from dinner a Frenchwoman of high birth and breeding. My
fair charge is the wife of an officer of our army, who nearly lost his
life in the late Mexican war, returning home covered alike with wounds
and honors, and with still I don't know how many bullets in his body, as
life-long tokens of his bravery. His heroic young wife, when she learned
that he had landed at New Orleans, as soon after the conclusion of peace
as his condition enabled him to be conveyed to the sea-board and make
the voyage, set out to join him at the South, with an infant of only a
few weeks old, and herself in enfeebled health.--They had been married
but a short time, when Col. V---- was ordered to the seat of war, and
the lady was a belle and a beauty, of scarce nineteen--the cherished
idol of wealth and affection. These persons, and one or two others were,
with myself, seated, as I have said, cozily together for a little talk,
after dinner.
Taking advantage of the temporary absence of Mrs. V----, the
Frenchwoman, turning to Dr. de H----, said: "What a charming person! I
must tell you about my first meeting with her. You know we are just
returned from a little tour at the south of this country. Well, at
Washington, the other evening we have arrived, my husband and I, with my
little daughter, Lorrette, very tired and covered with dust, at the
hotel. A friend had engaged apartments for us, two or three days before,
but we were not conducted to them. They led us into a sort of corridor,
where gentlemen and ladies were walking, in dinner dress, and left us to
stand against the wall for some time. At last Victor told me to be
patient, and he would go and see. I have thought I should fall down with
fatigue and vexation, and poor little Lorrette leaned against me and was
almost quite asleep. At this moment, a lady and gentleman who were
sitting in a little alcove, which was in the corridor, observed us, as I
saw, though I tried to turn myself from all. They came immediately to
us. The gentleman brought a light chair in his hand. 'Madam,' said the
gentleman, 'allow me to offer you a seat; I am surprised that Mr.
Willard has no reception room for travellers.' Before I could thank
them, properly, the lady said, seeing how Lorrette had begun to cry, 'Do
come and sit over there in the little recess; there is a larger chair in
which the little girl can lie down until you can get your rooms. Pray
come'--and all this with such a sweet manner. Seeing that the gentleman
was already looking for another chair to bring to us, I went away with
the lady; saying, however, that I was so sad to come with her in this
dress, and to trouble her. When we were in the little alcove, almost by
ourselves, she placed Lorrette on a little couch, and forced me to sit
on the only good chair, saying that she preferred to stand a little, and
so many other polite, kind words! Then, while the gentleman talked a
little with me, she began to tell Lorrette that her papa would soon take
her to a nice supper, and made her look, when she was no longer so
tired, at some nice drawings of colored birds that her friend was
showing her when they came to carry us to them."
You must picture to yourselves the animated gestures, the expressive
tones, and the slight Gallic accent that gave double significance to
this little sketch, to form a correct idea of the pleasing effect
produced upon us all by the narration. Observing Mrs. V---- re-entering
the room, the charming Frenchwoman only added, enthusiastically: "Really
these were persons so agreeable, that I could not forget them; as I have
told you to-day, Dr. de H----, it is the only stranger American lady who
has ever been polite in our journey."
"Are the ladies of our country, then, so remiss in politeness?" said a
young American lady present, in a deprecatory tone.
"I beg your pardon, madam," returned the foreigner, "the Americans are
the most kind-hearted people in the world, but _they do not say it_! it
is the--_manner_!"
"I shall really begin to think," said Mrs. V----, "that there is some
other cause than my being a brunette for my being so often taken for a
foreigner. I am often asked whether I am from New Orleans, or of French
extraction."
"I am not surprised," exclaimed Dr. de H----, "my friend Sir C----
G----, who saw you this morning, asked me afterwards what country was
you of?"
"Why, how was that?"
"He told me he had just given a servant, that stupid old man in the
hall, the house-porter, I believe you call him, a card, to take to some
room, when you met him, and directed him to go to the office with a
message; but, observing the card in his hand, and that a gentleman stood
there, you immediately told him to go first with the card and you would
wait for him."
Here the silvery laugh of Mrs. V---- interrupted the Russian. "Excuse
me," said she, "I remember it!--that old porter, who always makes a
mistake, if it is possible, has so often annoyed me, that this time I
was determined, as it was a person I much wished to see, not to lose my
visitor through him, so, after waiting some time in one of these rooms,
I went to him to inquire, and sent him to the office, when I found that
my poor friend was waiting _there_, while I waited _here_. Observing a
gentleman who seemed already to have required his services, I bade him
go first for him, of course. '_Apres vous, madame, je vous prie_,'[3]
said he, with the most courtly air;--so that was Sir C---- G----?"
[3] After you are served, madam, I beg.
"Yes, madam," answered the _savant_, "but it was _your_ air that was
remarkable! Sir C---- told me that while you both were waiting there you
addressed some polite remark to him, _pour passer le temps_, and that he
thought you were not an American lady, _because you spoke to him_!"
"Speaking of _not speaking_," said I, when the general amusement had
abated, "reminds me of an amusing little scene that I once witnessed in
the public parlor of a New England tavern, where I was compelled to wait
several hours for a stage-coach. Presently there entered a bustling,
sprightly-looking little personage, who, after frisking about the room,
apparently upon a tour of inspection, finally settled herself very
comfortably in the large cushioned rocking-chair--the only one in the
room--and was soon, as I had no reason to doubt, sound asleep. It was
not long, however, before a noise of some one entering aroused her, and
a tall, gaunt old Yankee woman, hung round with countless bags,
bonnet-boxes, and nondescript appendages of various sizes and kinds,
presented herself to our vision. After slowly relieving herself of the
numberless incumbrances that impeded her progress in life, she turned to
a young man who accompanied her, and said, in a tone so peculiarly
shrill, that it might have been mistaken, at this day, for a railroad
whistle:
"'Now, Jonathan, don't let no grass grow under your feet while you go
for them tooth-ache drops; I am a'mos' crazy with pain!' laying a hand
upon the affected spot as she spoke; 'and here,' she called out, as the
door was closing upon her messenger, 'just get my box filled at the same
time!' diving, with her disengaged hand, into the unknown depths of,
seemingly, the most capacious of pockets, and bringing to light a
shining black box, of sufficient size to hold all the jewels of a modern
belle, 'I thought I brought along my snuff-bladder, but I don't know
where I put it, my head is so stirred up.'
"By this time the little woman in the rocking-chair was fairly aroused,
and rising, she courteously offered her seat to the stranger, her accent
at once betraying her claim to be ranked with the politest of nations (a
bow, on my part, to the fair foreigner in the group). With a prolonged
stare, the old woman coolly ensconced herself in the vacated seat,
making not the slightest acknowledgment of the civility she had
received. Presently, she began to groan, rocking herself furiously at
the same time. The former occupant of the stuffed chair, who had retired
to a window, and perched herself in one of a long row of high wooden
seats, hurried to the sufferer. 'I fear, madame,' said she, 'that you
suffare ver' much:--vat can I do for you?' The representative of
Yankeedom might have been a wooden clock-case for all the response she
made to this amiable inquiry, unless her rocking more furiously than
ever might be construed into a reply.
"The little Frenchwoman, apparently wholly unable to class so anomalous
a specimen of humanity, cautiously retreated.
"Before I was summoned away, the tooth-ache drops and the snuff together
(both administered in large doses!) seemed to have gradually produced
the effect of oil poured upon troubled waters.
"The sprightly Frenchwoman again ventured upon the theatre of action.
"'You find yourself now much improved, madame?' she asked, with
considerable vivacity. A very slight nod was the only answer.
"'And you feel dis _fauteuil_, really ver' _com-for-ta-ble_?' pursued
the little woman, with augmented energy of voice. Another nod was just
discernable.
"No intonation of mine can do justice to the very ecstasy of impatience
with which the pertinacious questioner now actually _screamed_ out:
"'_Bien_, madame, _vil you say so_, if you please!'"
* * * * *
I meant to repeat an impressive little story told us by my lovely
friend, Mrs. V----, before our merry little party separated that night;
but, even were this letter not already too "long drawn out," I find my
head in very much the condition of that of the old Yankee woman, whom, I
trust, I have immortalized, and will, therefore, reserve it for another
time, hoping that you will pay me the compliment to recollect my
description of my _dramatis personae_ until then.
* * * * *
Meanwhile, here is one other anecdote for you:
During my usual morning ride, one day lately, I stopped to breathe my
horse on the top of a little hill, in the suburbs of one of the villages
upon the banks of the Hudson. While enjoying the beauty of the fine
landscape before me, my horse, all on a sudden, started violently. I
presently discovered the cause of his fright. Some little rascals were
at play in the unenclosed yard of an old building near, and one of them
was throwing lumps of earth, pieces of broken crockery, rusty
sheet-iron, etc., upon the plank-walk in front. As I turned my head
towards them, a little urchin who was perched upon a knob of the root of
a tree, with his hands upon his knees, cried out, energetically: "There
now, look-a there! Ain't you a pretty fellow? dirtying up the walk so,
when people are going by." His little freckled face expressed real
concern, as he looked fixedly up the walk. Glancing in the same
direction, I saw an elegantly-dressed lady carefully gathering up her
dress, preparatory to encountering the sharp obstacles in her path, and
at once understood the cause of the reproof I had overheard, and which I
assure you, I have transcribed _verbatim_, though the phrase "pretty
fellow" may seem incongruous in the mouth of a dirty little Irish boy. I
only hope the lady--whose gentle smile indicated that she too understood
the scene--was compensated for being so incommoded, by discerning the
_inbred politeness_ of her little champion.
* * * * *
As it is your desire that I should deal rather with practical realities
than with generalities or theories, let us come in my next, without
preliminaries, to plain suggestions, presented somewhat in detail, with
the usual simplicity and frankness of that "plain, blunt man,"
Your affectionate uncle
HAL.
LETTER IV.
MANNER CONTINUED:--PRACTICAL DIRECTIONS.
MY DEAR NEPHEWS:
If I rightly remember, I concluded my last letter to my young
correspondents with a promise of attempting in my next, some _practical
directions_ in regard to Manner. I will, then, commence, at once
premising only in the impressive words of the immortal senator, who just
at present holds so large a space in the world's eye: "In now opening
this great matter, I am not insensible to the austere demands of the
occasion."
Important as Manner undoubtedly is, in every relation of life, the
cultivation of an unexceptionable deportment _at home_, may, perhaps, be
regarded as of primary consequence, in securing the happiness at which
all aim, though by means,
----"variable as the shade,
By the light, quivering aspen made."
I think I have already incidentally alluded to the bad taste, to give it
no severer name, so commonly exhibited by young persons in this
country, in their conduct towards _parents_. Let nothing tempt _you_, I
pray you, into habits so discreditable. Manhood is never depreciated by
any true estimate, when yielding tribute to the claims of age.--Towards
your _father_ preserve always a deferential manner, mingled with a
certain frankness, indicating that thorough confidence, that entire
understanding of each other, which is the best guarantee of good sense
in both, and of inestimable value to every young man, blessed with a
right-minded parent. Accept the advice dictated by experience with
respect, receive even reproof without impatience of manner, and hasten
to prove afterwards, that you cherish no resentful remembrance of what
may even have seemed to you too great severity, or too manifest an
assumption of authority. Heed the counsel of an old man, who "through
the loop-holes of retreat" looks calmly on the busy tide of life rolling
forever onward, and let the sod that closes over the heart that throbs
no more even with affection and anxiety for you, leave for you only the
pain of parting--not the haunting demon of _remorse_. Allow no false
pride, no constitutional obstinacy, to interfere with the better
impulses of your nature, in your intercourse with your father, or to
interrupt for an hour the manly trust that should be between you. And in
the inner temple of _home_, as well as when the world looks on, render
him reverence due.