SPECTATOR, No. 120.
1.I must confess I am infinitely delighted with those speculations of nature which are to be made in a country-life; and as my reading has very much lain among books of natural history, I cannot forbear recollecting, upon this occasion, the several remarks which I have met with in authors, and comparing them with what falls under my own observation; the arguments for Providence drawn from the natural history of animals, being, in my opinion, demonstrative.
2.The make of every kind of animal is different from that of every other kind; and there is not the least turn in the muscles or twist in the fibres of any one, which does not render them more proper for that particular animal's way of life, than any other cast or texture of them would have been.
The most violent appetites in all creatures arelustandhunger; the first is a perpetual call upon them to propagate their kind; the latter to preserve themselves.
3.It is astonishing to consider the different degrees of care that descend from the parent to the young, so far as is absolutely necessary for the leaving a posterity. Some creatures cast their eggs as chance directs them, and think of them no further, as insects, and several kinds of fish; others, of a nicer frame, find out proper beds to deposit them in, and there leave them, as the serpent, the crocodile, and ostrich; others hatch their eggs and tend the birth till it is able to shift for itself.
4.What can we call the principle which directs every different kind of bird to observe a particular plan in the structure of the nest, and directs all of the same species to work after the same model! It cannot beimitation; for though you hatch a crow under a hen, and never let it see any of the works of its own kind, the nest it makes shall be the same to the laying of a stick, with all the other nests of the same species. It cannot bereason; for were animals endued with it to as great a degree as man, their buildings would be as different as ours, according to the different conveniences that they would propose to themselves.
5.Is it not remarkable, that the same temper of weather, which raises this general warmth in animals, should cover the trees with leaves, and the fields with grass, for their security and concealment, and produce such infinite swarms of insects for the support and sustenance of their respective broods?
Is it not wonderful that the love of the parent should be so violent while it lasts, and that it should last no longer than is necessary for the preservation of the young?
6.With what caution does the hen provide herself a nest in places unfrequented, and free from noise and disturbances? When she has laid her eggs in such a manner that she can cover them, what care does she take in turning them frequently, that all parts may partake of the vital warmth? When she leaves them, to provide for her necessary sustenance, how punctually does she return before they have time to cool, and become incapable of producing an animal? In the summer, you see her giving herself greater freedoms, and quitting her care for above two hours together; but, in winter, when the rigour of the season would chill the principles of life, and destroy the young one, she grows more assiduous in her attendance, and stays away but half the time.
7.When the birth approaches, with how much nicety and attention does she help the chick to break its prison? Not to take notice of her covering it from the injuries of the weather, providing it proper nourishment, and teaching it to help itself; nor to mention her forsaking the nest, if after the usual time of reckoning the young one does not make its appearance. A chymical operation could not be followed with greater art or diligence, than is seen in the hatching of a chick; though there are many more birds that show an infinitely greater sagacity in all the fore mentioned particulars.
8.But at the same time the hen, that has all this seeming ingenuity (which is indeed absolutely necessary for the propagation of the species) considered in other respects, is without the least glimmerings of thought or common sense. She mistakes a piece of chalk for an egg, and sits upon it in the same manner: she is insensible of any increase or diminution in the number of those she lays: she does not distinguish between her own and those off another species; and when the birth appears of ever so different a bird, will cherish it for her own. In all these circumstances, which do not carry an immediate regard to the subsistence of herself or her species, she is a very idiot.
9.There is not, in my opinion, any thing more mysterious in nature than this instinct in animals, which thus, rises above reason, and falls infinitely short of it. It cannot be accounted for by any properties of matter, and at the same time works after so odd a manner, that one cannot think it the faculty of an intellectual being. For my own part, I look upon it as upon the principle of gravitation in bodies, which is not to be explained by any known qualities inherent in the bodies themselves, nor from any laws in mechanism; but, according to the best notions of the greatest philosophers, is an immediate impression from the first mover, and the divine energy acting in the creature.
1.Complaisance renders a superior amiable, an equal agreeable, and an inferior acceptable. It smoothes distinction, sweetens conversation, and makes every one in the company pleased with himself. It produces good nature and mutual benevolence, encourages the timorous, soothes the turbulent; humanizes the fierce, and distinguishes a society of civilized persons from a confusion of savages. In a word, complaisance is a virtue that blends all orders of men together in a friendly intercourse of words and actions, and is suited to that equality in human nature which every one ought to consider, so far as is consistent with the order and economy of the world.
2.If we could look into the secret anguish and affliction of every man's heart, we should often find, that more of it arises from little imaginary distresses, such as checks, frowns, contradictions, expressions of contempt, and (whatShakspearereckons among other evils under the sun)
"—The poor man's contumely, The insolence of office, and the spurns That patient merit of the unworthy takes,"
"—The poor man's contumely, The insolence of office, and the spurns That patient merit of the unworthy takes,"
than from the more real pains and calamities of life. The only method to remove these imaginary distresses as much as possible out of human life, would be the universal practice of such an ingenious complaisance as I have been here describing, which, as it is a virtue, may be defined to be a "constant endeavour to please those whom we converse with, so far as we may do it innocently."
3.Good-breeding necessarily implies civility; but civility does not reciprocally imply good-breeding. The former has its intrinsic weight and value, which the latter always adorns, and often doubles by its workmanship.
To sacrifice one's own self-love to other people's, is a short, but, I believe, a true definition of civility: to do it with ease, propriety and grace, is good-breeding. The one is the result of good-nature; the other of good-sense, joined to experience, observation and attention.
4.A ploughman will be civil, if he is good-natured, but cannot be well bred. A courtier will be well bred though perhaps without good-nature, if he has but good sense. Flattery is the disgrace of good-breeding, as brutality often is of truth and sincerity. Good-breeding is the middle point between those two odious extremes.
Ceremony is the superstition of good-breeding, as well as of religion: but yet, being an out-work to both, should not be absolutely demolished. It is always, to a certain degree, to be complied with, though despised by those who think, because admired and respected by those who do not.
5.The most perfect degree of good-breeding, as I have already hinted, is only to be acquired by great knowledge of the world, and keeping the best company. It is not the object of mere speculation, and cannot be exactly defined, as it consists in a fitness, a propriety of words, actions, and even looks, adapted to the infinite variety and combinations of persons, places, and things. It is a mode, not a substance; for what is good-breeding at St.James's, would pass for foppery or banter in a remote village; and the homespun civility of that village would be considered as brutality at court.
6.A cloistered pedant may form true notions of civility; but if amidst the cobwebs of his cell he pretends to spin a speculative system of good-breeding, he will not be less absurd than his predecessor, who judiciously undertook to instructHannibal, in the art of war. The most ridiculous and most aukward of men are, therefore, the speculatively well bred monks of all religions and all professions.
7.Good-breeding, like charity, not only covers a multitude of faults, but, to a certain degree, supplies the want of some virtues. In the common intercourse of life, it nets good-nature, and often does what good-nature will not always do; it keeps both wits and fools within those bounds of decency, which the former are too apt to transgress, and which the latter never know. Courts are unquestionably the seats of good-breeding and must necessarily be so; otherwise they would be the seats of violence and desolation. There all the passions are in their highest state of fermentation.
8.All pursue what but few can obtain, and many seek what but one can enjoy. Good-breeding alone restrains their excesses. There, if enemies did not embrace they would stab. There, smiles are often put on to conceal tears. There, mutual services are professed, while mutual injuries are intended; and there, the guile of the serpent stimulates the gentleness of the dove: all this, it is true, at the expense of sincerity; but upon the whole, to the advantage of social intercourse in general.
9.I would not be misapprehended, and supposed to recommend good-breeding, thus prophaned and prostituted to the purposes of guilt and perfidy; but I think I may justly infer from it, to what a degree the accomplishment of good-breeding must adorn and enforce virtue and truth, when it can thus soften the outrages and deformity of vice and falsehood. I am sorry to be obliged to confess, that my native country is not perhaps the seat of the most perfect good-breeding, though I really believe, that it yields to none in hearty and sincere civility, as far as civility is (and to a certain degree it is) an inferior moral duty of doing as one would be done by.
10.IfFranceexceeds us in that particular, the incomparable author ofL'Esprit des Loixaccounts for it very impartially, and I believe very truly. "If my countrymen," says he, "are the best bred people in the world, it is only because they are the vainest." It is certain that their good-breeding and attention, by flattering the vanity and self-love of others, repay their own with interest. It is a general commerce, usefully carried on by a barter of attentions, and often without one grain of solid merit, by way of medium, to make up the balance.
11.It were to be wished that good-breeding were in general thought a more essential part in the education of our youth, especially of distinction, than at present it seems to be. It might even be substituted in the room of some academical studies, that take up a great deal of time to very little purpose; or, at least, it might usefully share some of those many hours, that are so frequently employed upon a coach-box, or in stables. Surely those, who by their rank and fortune are called to adorn courts, ought at least not to disgrace, them by their manners.
12.But I observe with concern, that it is the fashion for our youth of both sexes to brand good-breeding with the name of ceremony and formality. As such they ridicule and explode it, and adopt in its stead, an offensive carelessness and inattention, to the diminution, I will venture to say, even of their own pleasures, if they know what true pleasures are. Love and friendship necessarily produce, and justly authorize familiarity; but then good-breeding must mark out its bounds, and say, thus far shalt thou go, and no farther; for I have known many a passion and many a friendship, degraded, weakened, and at last (if I may use the expression) wholly flattened away, by an unguarded and illiberal familiarity.
13.Nor is good-breeding less the ornament and cement of common social life: it connects, it endears, and at the same time that it indulges the just liberty, restrains that indecent licentiousness of conversation, which alienates and provokes. Great talents make a man famous, great merit makes him respected, and great learning makes him esteemed; but good breeding alone can make him beloved.
14.I recommend it in a more particular manner to my countrywomen, as the greatest ornament to such of them as have beauty, and the safest refuge for those who have not. It facilitates the victories, decorates the triumphs, and secures the conquests of beauty; or in some degree atones for the want of it. It almost deifies a fine woman, and procures respect at least to those who have not charms enough to be admired. Upon the whole, though good-breeding cannot, strictly speaking, be called a virtue, yet it is productive of so many good effects, that, in my opinion, it may be justly reckoned more than a mere accomplishment.
WORLD, No. 143.
15.Good-Breeding has been very justly defined 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."
Good-breeding alone can prepossess people in our favour at first sight; more time being necessary to discover greater talents. Good-breeding, however, does not consist in low bows, and formal ceremony; but in an easy civil, and respectful behaviour.
16.Indeed, good-sense, in many cases, must determine good-breeding; for what would be civil at one time, and to one person, would be rude at another time, and to another person: there are, however, some general rules of good-breeding. As for example; to answer only yes, or no, to any person, without adding sir, my lord, or madam, (as it may happen) is always extremely rude; and it is equally so not to give proper attention and a civil answer, when spoken to: such behaviour convinces the person who is speaking to us, that we despise him, and do not think him worthy of our attention or answer.
17.A well-bred person will take care to answer with complaisance when he is spoken to; will place himself at the lower end of the table, unless bid to go higher; will first drink to the lady of the house, and then to the master; he will not eat aukwardly or dirtily, nor sit when others stand; and he will do all this with an air of complaisance, and not with a grave ill-natured look, as if he did it all unwillingly.
18.There is nothing more difficult to attain, or so necessary to possess, as perfect good-breeding; which is equally inconsistent with a stiff formality, an impertinent forwardness, and an aukward bashfulness. A little ceremony is sometimes necessary; a certain degree of firmness is absolutely so; and an outward modesty is extremely becoming.
19.Virtue and learning, like gold, have their intrinsic value; but, if they are not polished, they certainly lose a great deal of their lustre: and even polished brass will pass upon more people than rough gold. What a number of sins does the cheerful, easy, good-breeding of theFrenchfrequently cover!
My LordBaconsays, that "a pleasing figure is a perpetual letter of recommendation." It is certainly an agreeable fore-runner of merit and smooths the way for it.
20.A man of good-breeding should be acquainted with the forms and particular customs of courts. AtViennamen always make courtesies, instead of bows, to the emperor; inFrancenobody bows to the king, or kisses his hand; but inSpainandEnglandbows are made and hands are kissed. Thus every court has some peculiarity, which those who visit them ought previously to inform themselves of, to avoid blunders and aukwardness.
21.Very few, scarce any, are wanting in the respect which they should shew to those whom they acknowledge to be infinitely their superiors. 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 aukwardly; 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 shew that respect, which every body means to shew, in an easy, unembarrassed and graceful manner.
22.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, every one 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 shew him, by a manifest inattention to what he says, that you think him a fool or a blockhead, and not worth hearing.
23.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 impertinences, 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 andagrémenswhich are of common right; such as the best places, the best dishes, &c. but, on the contrary, always decline themself 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 common right.
24.The third sort of good-breeding is local; and is variously modified, in not only different countries, but in different towns in the same country. But it must be founded upon the two former sorts: they are the matter; to which, in this case, fashion and custom only give the different shapes and impressions. Whoever has the two first sorts, will easily acquire this third sort of good-breeding, which depends singly upon attention and observation. It is properly the polish, the lustre, the last finishing strokes of good-breeding. A man of sense, therefore, carefully attends to the local manners of the respective places where he is, and takes for his models those persons, whom he observes to be at the head of the fashion and good-breeding.
25.He watches how they address themselves to their superiors, how they accost their equals, and how they treat their inferiors: and lets none of those little niceties escape him; which are to good-breeding, what the last delicate and masterly touches are to a good picture, and which the vulgar have no notion of, but by which good judges distinguish the master. He attends even to their airs, dress, and motions, and imitates them liberally, and not servilely; he copies, but does not mimic. These personal graces are of very great consequence. They anticipate the sentiments, before merit can engage the understanding: they captivate the heart, and give rise, I believe, to the extravagant notions of charms and philtres. Their effects were so surprising, that they were reckoned supernatural.
26.In short, as it is necessary to possess learning, honor and virtue, to gain the esteem and admiration of mankind, so politeness and good-breeding are equally necessary to render us agreeable in conversation and common life. Great talents are above the generality of the world; who neither possess them themselves, nor are competent judges of them in others; but all are judges of the lesser talents, such, as civility, affability, and an agreeable address and manner; because they feel the good effects of them, as making society easy and agreeable.
To conclude: be assured that the profoundest learning, without good-breeding, is unwelcome and tiresome pedantry; that a man who is not perfectly well-bred, is unfit for company, and unwelcome in it; and that a man, who is not well-bred, is full as unfit for business as for company.
Make, then, good-breeding the great object of your thoughts and actions. Observe carefully the behaviour and manners of those who are distinguished by their good-breeding; imitate, nay, endeavour 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.
1.Next to good-breeding is a genteel manner and carriage, wholly free from those ill habits and aukward actions, which many very worthy persons are addicted to.
2.A genteel manner of behaviour, how trifling soever it may seem, is of the utmost consequence in private life. Men of very inferior parts have been esteemed, merely for their genteel carriage and good-breeding, while sensible men have given disgust for want of it. There is something or other that prepossesses us at first sight in favor of a well-bred man, and makes us wish to like him.
3.When an aukward fellow first comes into a room, he attempts to bow, and his sword, if he wears one, gets between his legs, and nearly throws him down. Confused, and ashamed, he stumbles to the upper end of the room and seats himself in the very chair he should not. He there begins playing with his hat, which he presently drops; and recovering his hat, he lets fall his cane; and in picking up his cane, down goes his hat again: thus 'tis a considerable time before he is adjusted.
4.When his tea or coffee is handed to him, he spreads his handkerchief upon his knee, scalds his mouth, drops either the cup or the saucer, and spills the tea or coffee in his lap. At dinner he is more uncommonly aukward: there he tucks his napkin through a button-hole, which tickles his chin, and occasions him to make a variety of wry faces; he seats himself on the edge of the chair, at so great a distance from the table, that he frequently drops his meat between his plate and his mouth; he holds his knife, fork and spoon different from other people; eats with his knife, to the manifest danger of his mouth; picks his teeth with his fork, rakes his mouth with his finger, and puts his spoon, which has been in his throat a dozen times, into the dish again.
5.If he is to carve he cannot hit the joint, but in labouring to cut through the bone, splashes the sauce over every body's clothes. He generally daubs himself all over, his elbows are in the next person's plate, and he is up to the knuckles in soup and grease. If he drinks, it is with his mouth full, interrupting the whole company with, "to your good health, Sir," and "my service to you;" perhaps coughs in his glass, and besprinkles the whole table. Further, he has perhaps a number of disagreeable tricks; he snuffs up his nose, picks it with his fingers, blows it; and looks in his handkerchief, crams his hands first in his bosom, and next in his breeches.
6.In short, he neither dresses nor acts like any other but is particularly aukward in every thing he does. All this, I own, has nothing in it criminal; but it is such an offence to good manners and good-breeding that it is universally despised; it makes a man ridiculous in every company, and, of course, ought carefully to be avoided by every one who would wish to please.
7.From this picture of the ill-bred man, you will easily discover that of the well-bred; for you may readily judge what you ought to do, when you are told what you ought not to do; a little attention to the manners of those who have seen the world, will make a proper behaviour habitual and familiar to you.
8.Actions, that would otherwise be pleasing, frequently become ridiculous by your manner of doing-them. If a lady drops her fan in company, the worst bred man would immediately pick it up, and give it to her; the best bred man can do no more; but then he does it in a graceful manner, which is sure to please; whereas the other would do it so aukwardly as to be laughed at.
9.You may also know a well-bred person by his manner of sitting. Ashamed and confused, the aukward man sits in his chair stiff and bolt upright, whereas the man of fashion is easy in every position; instead of lolling or lounging as he sits, he leans with elegance, and by varying his attitudes, shews that he has been used to good company. Let it be one part of your study, then, to learn to set genteely in different companies, to loll gracefully, where you are authorised to take that liberty, and to set up respectfully, where that freedom is not allowable.
10.In short, you cannot conceive how advantageous a graceful carriage and a pleasing address are, upon all occasions; they ensnare the affections, steal a prepossession in our favour, and play about the heart till they engage it.
Now to acquire a graceful air, you must attend to your dancing; no one can either sit, stand, or walk well unless he dances well. And in learning to dance be particularly attentive to the motion of your arms, for a stiffness in the wrist will make any man look aukward. If a man walks well, presents himself well in company, wears his hat well, moves his head properly and his arms gracefully, it is almost all that is necessary.
11.There is also an aukwardness in speech, that naturally falls under this head, and ought to, and may be guarded against; such as forgetting names and mistaking one name for another; to speak of Mr. What-d'ye-call him, or, You-know-who, Mrs. Thingum, What's-her-name, or, How-d'ye-call her, is exceedingly aukward and vulgar. 'Tis the same to address people by improper titles, assirformy lord; to begin a story without being able to finish it, and break off in the middle, with "I have forgot the rest."
12.Our voice and manner of speaking, too, should likewise be attended to. Some will mumble over their words, so as not to be intelligible, and others will speak so fast as not to be understood, and in doing this, will sputter and spit in your face; some will bawl as if they were speaking to the deaf: others will speak so low as scarcely to be heard; and many will put their faces so close to your's as to offend you with their breath.
13.All these habits are horrid and disgustful, but may easily be got the better of with care. They are the vulgar characteristics of a low-bred man, or are proofs that very little pains have been bestowed in his education. In short, an attention to these little matters is of greater importance than you are aware of; many a sensible man having lost ground for want of these little graces, and many a one possessed of these perfections alone, having made his way through life, that otherwise would not have been noticed.
14.But as no one can please in company, however graceful his air, unless he be clean and neat in his person, this qualification comes next to be considered.
15.Negligence of one's person not only implies an unsufferable indolence, but an indifference whether we please or not. In others, it betrays an insolence and affectation, arising from a presumption that they are sure of pleasing, without having recourse to those means by which many are obliged to use.
16.He who is not thoroughly clean in his person, will be offensive to all he converses with. A particular regard to the cleanness of your mouth, teeth, hands and nails, is but common decency. A foul mouth and unclean hands are certain marks of vulgarity; the first is the cause of an offensive breath, which nobody can bear, and the last is declaratory of dirty work; one may always know a gentleman by the state of his hands and nails. The flesh at the roots should be kept back, so as to shew the semicircles at the bottom of the nails; the edges of the nails should never be cut down below the ends of the fingers; nor should they be suffered to grow longer than the fingers.
17.When the nails are cut down to the quick, it is a shrewd sign that the man is a mechanic, to whom long nails would be troublesome, or that he gets his bread by fiddling; and if they are longer than his fingers ends, and encircled with a black rim, it foretells he has been laboriously and meanly employed, and too fatigued to clean himself: a good apology for want of cleanliness in a mechanic, but the greatest disgrace that can attend a gentleman.
18.These things may appear too significant to be mentioned; but when it is considered that a thousand little nameless things, which every one feels but no one can describe, conspire to form thatwholeof pleasing, I hope you will not call them trifling. Besides a clean shirt and a clean person are as necessary to health, as not to offend other people. It is a maxim with me, which I have lived to see verified, that he who is negligent at twenty years of age, will be a sloven at forty, and intolerable at fifty.
19.Neatness of person I observed was as necessary as cleanliness; of course some attention must be paid to your dress.
Such is the absurdity of the times, that to pass well with the world, we must adopt some of its customs, be they ridiculous or not.
20.In the first place, to neglect one's dress is to affront all the female part of our acquaintance. The women in particular pay an attention to their dress; to neglect, therefore, your's, will displease them, as it would be tacitly taxing them with vanity, and declaring that you thought them not worth the respect which every body else does. And, as I have mentioned before, as it is the women who stamp a young man's credit in the fashionable world, if you do not make yourself agreeable to the women, you will assuredly lose ground among the men.
21.Dress, as trifling as it may appear to a man of understanding, prepossesses on the first appearance, which is frequently decisive; and indeed we may form some opinion of a man's sense and character from his dress. Any exceeding of the fashion, or any affectation in dress whatever, argues a weakness of understanding, and nine times out of ten it will be found so.
22.There are few young fellows but what display some character or other in this shape. Some would be thought fearless and brave: these wear a black cravat, a short coat and waistcoat, an uncommon long sword hanging to their knees, a large hat fiercely cocked, and areflashall over. Others affect to be country squires; these will go about in buckskin breeches, brawn frocks, and great oaken cudgels in their hands, slouched hats, with their hair undressed and tucked up behind them to an enormous size, and imitate grooms and country boobies so well externally, that there is not the least doubt of their resembling them as well internally.
23.Others, again, paint and powder themselves so much, and dress so finically, as leads us to suppose they are only women in boy's clothes. Now a sensible man carefully avoids all this, or any other affectation. He dresses as fashionable and well as persons of the best families and best sense; if he exceeds them, he is a coxcomb; if he dresses worse, he is unpardonable.
24.Dress yourself fine, then, if possible, or plain, agreeable to the company you are in; that is, conform to the dress of others, and avoid the appearance of being tumbled. Imitate those reasonable people of your own age, whose dress is neither remarked as too neglected or too much studied. Take care to have your clothes well made, in the fashion, and to fit you, or you will, after all, appear aukward. When once dressed, think no more of it; shew no fear of discomposing your dress, but let all your motions be as easy and unembarrassed, as if you was at home in your dishabille.
25.Having mentioned elegance of person, I will proceed to elegance of expression.
It is not one or two qualifications alone that will complete the gentleman; it must be an union of many; and graceful speaking is as essential as gracefulness of person. Every man cannot be an harmonious speaker; a roughness or coarseness of voice may prevent it; but if there are no natural imperfections, if a man does not stammer or lisp, or has not lost his teeth, he may speak gracefully; nor will all these defects, if he has a mind to it, prevent him from speaking correctly.
26.Nobody can attend with pleasure to a bad speaker. One who tells his story ill, be it ever so important, will tire even the most patient. If you have been present at the performance of a good tragedy, you have doubtless been sensible of the good effects of a speech well delivered; how much it has interested and affected you; and on the contrary, how much an ill-spoken one has disgusted you.
37.'Tis the same in common conversation; he who speaks deliberately, distinctly and correctly; he who makes use of the best words to express himself, and varies his voice according to the nature of the subject, will always please, while the thick or hasty speaker, he who mumbles out a set of ill-chosen words, utters them ungrammatically, or with a dull monotony, will tire and disgust. Be assured then, the air, the gesture, the looks of a speaker, a proper accent, a just emphasis, and tuneful cadence, are full as necessary, to please and to be attended to, as the subject matter itself.
28.People may talk what they will of solid reasoning and sound sense; without the graces and ornaments of language, they will neither please nor persuade. In common discourse, even trifles elegantly expressed, will be better received, than the best of arguments homespun and unadorned.
29.A good way to acquire a graceful utterance, is to read aloud to some friend every day, and beg of him to set you right, in case you read too fast, do not observe the proper stops, lay wrong emphasis, or utter your words indistinctly. You may even read aloud to yourself where such a friend is not at hand, and you will find your own ear a good corrector. Take care to open your teeth when you read or speak, and articulate every word distinctly; which last cannot be done but by sounding the final letter. But above all, endeavour to vary your voice according to the matter, and avoid a monotony. By a daily attention to this, it will in a little time become easy and habitual to you.
30.Pay an attention also to your looks and your gesture, when talking even on the most trifling subjects: things appear very different according as they are expressed, looked and delivered.
Now, if it is necessary to attend so particularly to ourmannerof speaking, it is much more so with regard to thematter. Fine turns of expression, a genteel and correct style, are ornaments as requisite to common sense, as polite behaviour and an elegant address are to common good manners; they are great assistants in the point of pleasing. A gentleman, 'tis true, may be known in the meanest garb, but it admits not of a doubt, that he would be better received into good company genteely and fashionably dressed, than was he to appear in dirt and tatters.
31.Be careful, then, of your style upon all occasions; whether you write or speak, study for the best words and best expressions, even in common conversation and the most familiar letters. This will prevent your speaking in a hurry, than which nothing is more vulgar; though you may be a little embarrassed at first, time and use will render it easy. It is no such difficult thing to express ourselves well on subjects we are thoroughly acquainted with, if we think before we speak; and no one should presume to do otherwise.
32.When you have said a thing, if you did not reflect before, be sure to do it after wards: consider with yourself whether you could not have expressed yourself better; and if you are in doubt of the propriety or elegancy of any word, search for it in some dictionary, or some good author, while you remember it; never be sparing of your trouble while you wish to improve, and my word for it, a very little time will make this matter habitual.
33.In order to speak grammatically, and to express yourself pleasingly, I would recommend it to you to translate often, any language you are acquainted with, into English, and to correct such translation till the words, their order, and the periods, are agreeable to your own ear.
Vulgarism in language is another distinguishing mark of bad company and education. Expressions may be correct in themselves and yet be vulgar, owing to their not being fashionable; for language as manners are both established for the usage of people of fashion.
34.The conversation of a low-bred man is filled up with proverbs and hackneyed sayings; instead of observing that tastes are different, and that most men have one peculiar to themselves, he will give you—"What is one man's meat is another man's poison;" or, "Every one to their liking, as the old woman said, when she kissed her cow." He has ever some favourite word, which he lugs in upon all occasions, right or wrong; such asvastlyangry,vastlykind;devilishugly,devilishhandsome;immenselygreat,immenselylittle.
35.Even his pronunciation carries the mark of vulgarity along with it; he calls the earthyearth; finan' ces,fin' ances, he goesto wards, and not towards such a place. He affects to use hard words, to give him the appearance of a man of learning, but frequently mistakes their meaning, and seldom, if ever, pronounces them properly.
All this must be avoided, if you would not be supposed to have kept company with foot-men and house-maids. Never have recourse to proverbial or vulgar sayings; use neither favourite nor hard words, but seek for the most elegant; be careful in the management of them, and depend on it your labour will not be lost; for nothing is more engaging than a fashionable and polite address.
36.In all good company we meet with a certain manner, phraseology and general conversation, that distinguishes the man of fashion. This can only be acquired by frequenting good company, and being particularly attentive to all that passes there.
37.When invited to dine or sup at the house of any well-bred man, observe how he does the honours of his table, and mark his manner of treating his company.
Attend to the compliments of congratulation or condolence that he pays; and take notice of his address to his superiors, his equals, and his inferiors; nay, his very looks and tone of voice are worth your attention, for we cannot please without an union of them all.
38.There is a certain distinguishing diction that marks the man of fashion, a certain language of conversation that every gentleman should be master of. Saying to a man just married, "I wish you joy," or to one who has lost his wife, "I am sorry for your loss," and both perhaps with an unmeaning countenance, may be civil, but it is nevertheless vulgar. A man of fashion will express the same thing more elegantly, and with a look of sincerity, that shall attract the esteem of the person he speaks to. He will advance to the one, with warmth and cheerfulness, and perhaps squeezing him by the hand, will say, "Believe me, my dear sir, I have scarce words to express the joy I feel, upon your happy alliance with such or such a family, &c." To the other in affliction he will advance slowly, and with a peculiar composure of voice and countenance, begin his compliments of condolence with, "I hope, sir, you will do me the justice to be persuaded, that I am not insensible of your unhappiness, that I take part in your distress, and shall ever be affected whereyouare so."
39.Your first address to, and indeed all your conversation with your superiors, should be open, cheerful, and respectful; with your equals, warm, and animated; with your inferiors, hearty, free, and unreserved.
40.There is a fashionable kind of small-talk, which, however trifling it may be thought, has its use in mixed companies; of course you should endeavour to acquire it. By small-talk, I mean a good deal to say on unimportant matters: for example, foods, the flavour and growth of wines, and the chit-chat of the day. Such conversation will serve to keep off serious subjects, that might some time create disputes. This chit-chat is chiefly to be learned by frequenting the company of the ladies.
1.As the art of pleasing is to be learnt only by frequenting the best companies, we must endeavour to pick it up in such companies, by observation; for, it is not sense and knowledge alone that will acquire esteem; these certainly are the first and necessary foundations for pleasing, but they will by no means do, unless attended with manners and attention.
There have been people who have frequented the first companies till their life-time, and yet have never got rid of their natural stiffness and aukwardness; but have continued as vulgar as if they were never out of a servant's hall: this has been owing to carelessness, and a want of attention to the manners and behaviour of others.
2.There are a great many people likewise who busy themselves the whole day, and who in fact do nothing. They have possibly taken up a book for two or three hours, but from a certain inattention that grows upon them the more it is indulged, know no more of the contents than if they had not looked into it; nay, it is impossible for any one to retain what he reads, unless he reflects and reasons upon it as he goes on. When they have thus lounged away an hour or two, they will saunter into company, without attending to any thing that passes there; but, if they think at all, are thinking of some trifling matter that ought not to occupy their attention; thence perhaps they go to the play, where they stare at the company and the lights, without attending to the piece, the very thing they went to see.
3.In this manner they wear away their hours, that might otherwise he employed to their improvement and advantage. This silly suspension of thought they would have passabsence of mind—Ridiculous!—Wherever you are, let me recommend it to you to pay attention to all that passes; observe the characters of the persons you are with, and the subjects of their conversation; listen to every thing that is said, see every thing that is done, and (according to the vulgar saying) have your eyes and your ears about you.
4.A continual inattention to matters that occur, is the characteristic of a weak mind; the man who gives way to it, is little else than a trifler, a blank in society, which every sensible person overlooks; surely what is worth doing is worth doing well, and nothing can be done well if not properly attended to. When I hear a man say, on being asked about any thing that was said or done in his presence, "that truly he did not mind it," I am ready to knock the fool down.Whydid he not mind it?—What had he else to do?—A man of sense and fashion never makes use of this paltry plea; he never complains of a treacherous memory, but attends to and remembers every thing that is said or done.
5.Whenever, then, you go into good company, that is, the company of people of fashion, observe carefully their behaviour, their address, and their manner; imitate it as far as in your power. Your attention, if possible, should be so ready as to observe every person in the room at once, their motions, their looks, and their turns of expression, and that without staring or seeming to be an observer. This kind of observation may be acquired by care and practice, and will be found of the utmost advantage to you, in the course of life.