I
The "old school" of manners has fallen into disrepute. Sir Charles
Grandison is a comical rather than a courtly figure to this generation; and
the man whose manners may be described as Grandisonian is usually called
a pompous and grandiloquent old prig. Certainly the elaborately dressed
gentleman speaking to a lady only with polished courtesy of phrase, and
avoiding in her presence all coarse words and acts, handing her in the
minuet with inexpressible grace and deference, and showing an exquisite
homage in every motion, was a very different figure from the gentleman in a
shooting-jacket or morning sack "chaffing" a lady with the freshest slang,
and smoking in her face. They are undeniably different, and the later
figure is wholly free from Grandisonian elegance and elaboration. But is he
much more truly a gentleman? Is he our Sidney, our Chevalier Bayard, our
Admirable Crichton? Is that refined consideration and gentle deference,
which is the flower of courtesy, an old-fashioned folly?
The overwrought politeness is made very ridiculous upon the stage, and
Richardson is undoubtedly hard reading for the general consumer of novels.
It is true, also, that fine morals do not always go with fine manners, and
that Lovelace had a fascination of address which John Knox lacked. The
chaff and slang of the Bayard of to-day are at least decent, and his morals
probably purer than those of the courtly and punctilious old Sir Roger
de Coverleys. Possibly; but it has been wisely said that hypocrisy is the
homage paid by vice to virtue. The good manners of a bad man are a rich
dress upon a diseased body. They are the graceful form of a vase full of
dirty water. The liquid may be poisonous, but the vessel is beautiful.
Some of the worst Lotharios in the world have a personal charm which is
irresistible. Many a stately compliment was paid by a graciously bowing
satyr in laced velvet coat and periwig, at the court of Louis the Great,
and paid for the basest purpose; but the grace and the courtesy were
borrowed, like plumage of living hues to deck carrion. They were not a part
of the baseness, and you do not escape dirty water by breaking the vase.
If the older morals were worse than the new, and the older manners were
better, cannot we who live to-day, and who may have everything, combine the
new morals and the old manners?
We can spare some elaboration of form, but we cannot safely spare the
substance of refined deference. If Romeo be permitted to treat Juliet as
hostlers are supposed to treat barmaids, and as the heroes of Fielding and
Smollett treat Abigails upon a journey, they will both lose self-respect
and mutual respect. It was a wise father who said to his son, "Beware of
the woman who allows you to kiss her." The woman who does not require
of a man the form of respect invites him to discard the substance. And
there is one violation of the form which is recent and gross, and might
be well cited as a striking illustration of the decay of manners. It
is the practice of smoking in the society of ladies in public places,
whether driving, or walking, or sailing, or sitting. There are _preux
chevaliers_ who would be honestly amazed if they were told they did
not behave like gentlemen, who, sitting with a lady on a hotel piazza, or
strolling on a public park, whip out a cigarette, light it, and puff as
tranquilly as if they were alone in their rooms. Or a young man comes alone
upon the deck of a steamer, where throngs of ladies are sitting, and blows
clouds of tobacco smoke in their faces, without even remarking that tobacco
is disagreeable to some people. This is not, indeed, one of the seven
deadly sins, but a man who unconcernedly sings false betrays that he has
no ear for music, and the man who smokes in this way shows that he is not
quite a gentleman.
But some ladies smoke? Yes, and some ladies drink liquor. Does that mend
the matter? The Easy Chair has seen a lady at the head of her own table
smoking a fine cigar. You will see a great many highly dressed women in
Paris smoking cigarettes. Does all this change the situation? Does this
make it more gentlemanly to smoke with a lady beside you in a carriage, or
upon a bench on the piazza? But some ladies like the odor of a cigar? Not
many; and the taste of those who sincerely do so cannot justify the habit
of promiscuous puffing in their presence. The intimacy of domesticity is
governed by other rules; but a gentleman smoking would hardly enter his
own drawing-room, where other ladies sat with his wife, without a word
of apology. The Easy Chair is no King James, and is more likely to issue
blasts of tobacco than blasts against it. But King James belonged to a very
selfish sex--a sex which seems often to suppose that its indulgences and
habits are to be tenderly tolerated, for no other reason than that they
are its habits. Therefore the young woman must defend herself by showing
plainly that she prohibits the intrusion of which, if suffered, she is
really the victim. In other times the Easy Chair has seen the lovely Laura
Matilda unwilling to refuse to dance with the partner who had bespoken her
hand for the german, although when he presented himself he was plainly
flown with wine. The Easy Chair has seen the hapless, foolish maid
encircled by those Bacchic arms, and then a headlong whirl and dash down
the room, ending in the promiscuous overthrow and downfall of maid,
Bacchus, and musicians.
If in the Grandisonian day the morals were wanting, it was something to
have the manners. They at least were to the imagination a memory and a
prophecy. They recalled the idyllic age when fine manners expressed fine
feelings, and they foretold the return of Astræa to her ancient haunts.
Here is young Adonis dreaming of a four-in-hand and a yacht, like any other
gentleman. Let us hope that he knows the test of a gentleman not to be the
ownership of blood-horses and a unique drag, but perfect courtesy founded
upon fine human feeling--that rare and indescribable gentleness and
consideration which rests upon manner as lightly as the bloom upon a fruit.
It may be imitated, as gold and diamonds are. But no counterfeit can harm
it; and, Adonis, it is incompatible with smoking in a lady's face, even if
she acquiesces.
(_September_, 1879)