§ 41. In conversing with superiors, we must broadly distinguish the
socially from the intellectually superior. For the art of producing
agreeable society in the former case differs widely from doing so in the
latter. Perhaps the matter may be expressed tersely, if not quite
accurately, by saying that the necessary equality between the members of
the company is attained in the former instance by the good talker
raising himself to the level of his superior, in the latter by his
bringing down his superior to his own level. A word of explanation is
here necessary. The man or woman that succeeds among social superiors is
not the timid or modest person, afraid to contradict, and ever ready to
assent to what is said, but rather the free and independent intellect
that suggests subjects, makes bold criticisms, and in fact introduces a
bright and free tone into a company which is perhaps somewhat dull from
its grandeur or even its extreme respectability. It is a case of the
socially superior acknowledging another kind of superiority, which
redresses the balance. We need hardly add that the greatest stress must
here be placed on tact, for to presume on either kind of superiority
will cause offence, and so spoil every attempt at breaking the bonds set
around us by the grades of the social hierarchy.
If, on the contrary, we meet a man of acknowledged mental superiority,
whether generally or in his special department, it is our social duty by
intelligent questioning, by an anxiety to learn from him, to force him
to condescend to our ignorance, or join in our fun, till his broader
sympathies are awakened, and he plays with us as if we were his
children. Indeed this very metaphor points out one of the very
remarkable instances of social equality asserted by an inferior—I mean
the outspoken freedom of the child—which possesses a peculiar charm, and
often thaws the dignity or dissipates the reserve of the great man and
woman whose superiority is a perpetual obstacle to them in ordinary
society.
I may here dwell a moment upon conscious superiority and its companion,
that conscious inferiority which is the great social barrier to
conversation, and which in most cases actually prohibits all
intercourse. In other European countries the separation of _noblesse_
and _bourgeoisie_ is carried so far as wellnigh to annihilate all free
and intellectual society of the better kind. The intellectually-educated
classes are so thoroughly excluded from social education in the urbanity
and grace of noble society, that they sink into mere intellectual boors,
while the aristocrats so seldom hear any intellectual discussion or take
any interest in learning, that their society becomes either vapidly
trivial or professionally narrow. For these nobles have their
professions like other people, especially the profession of arms.
The case is not so bad among us, where there are always great commoners,
where eminent success in making money, or even in letters, brings men
and women into the highest society, and where there are some of the
greatest positions in the country from which our Peers are even
excluded. There is no doubt that an intellectual man, or a man of strong
and recognised character, whatever his origin, can easily take a place
in high society among us. But how many lesser people are there of
excellent social gifts who assume most falsely that they are not suited,
and will not be welcome, to the higher classes, and so avoid both the
pleasure and the profit to be derived from a more refined, though not
more cultivated, stratum than their own! I am here talking of really
modest and worthy people, not of those vain and vulgar persons who make
it a boast—often a very dishonest one—that they have spurned associating
with their superiors, from a profound contempt of what they call
_toadyism_.
§ 42. This term, which expresses the vicious relations of socially
inferior and superior, is used in very vague senses, ranging from a just
censure of meanness in others to a mistaken assertion of independence in
ourselves. Nothing is more inherent in all European society derived from
the feudal and ecclesiastical traditions of the Middle Ages—probably in
every cultivated society—than to honour rank and social dignity as such,
apart from the real worth of the person so distinguished. This is the
basis of that loyalty to sovrans which even when irrational does not
incur the imputation of toadyism. People of independent rank and
personal dignity even still accept and prize semi-menial offices about a
Court, without losing either respect among ordinary people or even
self-respect.
There is then such a thing as respect for rank as such, and a feeling of
pride in the contact with it, which is regarded as honourable. When does
the virtue of loyalty pass into a vice? Clearly when the higher and more
important duties of life are postponed to this love of outward dignity.
The man who neglects his equals for the purpose of courting his
superiors, still more who confesses or asserts his inferiority when
associating with them, and who submits to rebuffs and indignities for
the sake of being thought their associate, above all, who condones in
them vices which he would not brook in an equal, is justly liable to the
charge, which, however, only asserts the exaggeration of a tendency
affecting almost all his censors.
The usual thing, however, is to hear people censured for the _fact_ of
associating with those above them, as if this were in itself a crime.
There is, too, not unfrequently an element of jealousy in our criticism,
and of secret regret that another has attained certain advantages, or
supposed advantages, to which we ourselves feel an equal claim. Yet one
thing is certain, that if the supposed toady exhibited in the society
which he courts the qualities ascribed to him by his critics, he would
very soon lose his position and miss the very object of his ambition.
The only cause of his popularity is the very fact that his company feel
him in some respects their equal, possibly their superior, and it is the
secret of asserting this equality with tact and courtesy which makes men
and women popular among their superiors.
There is one point of view which gives a good talker a distinct
advantage under these circumstances. The distinctness of his ordinary
associates from those whom he occasionally meets makes his everyday
experience different from theirs, and so things familiar to him and his
everyday society are often interesting and novel to people of a
different standing. He ought therefore to be able to bring new
information to bear upon either class of society, and so secure its
interest with his store of fresh experiences.
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