CHAP. VIII.POLITENESS.
In politeness, as in many other things connected with the formation of character, people in general begin outside, when they should begin inside; instead of beginning with the heart, and trusting that to form the manners, they begin with the manners, and trust the heart to chance influences. Thegolden rulecontains the very life and soul of politeness. Children may be taught to make a graceful courtesy, or a gentlemanly bow,—but, unless they have likewise been taught to abhor what is selfish, and always prefer another’s comfort and pleasure to their own, their politeness will be entirely artificial, and used only when it is their interest to useit. On the other hand, a truly benevolent, kind-hearted person will always be distinguished for what is called native politeness, though entirely ignorant of the conventional forms of society.
I by no means think graceful manners of small importance. They are the outward form of refinement in the mind, and good affections in the heart; and as such must be lovely. But when the form exists without the vital principle within, it is as cold and lifeless as flowers carved in marble.
Politeness, either of feeling or of manner, can never be taught by set maxims. Every-day influence, so unconsciously exerted, is all important in forming the characters of children: and in nothing more important than in their manners. If you are habitually polite, your children will become so, by the mere force of imitation, without any specific directions on the subject. Your manners at home should always be such as you wish your family to have in company. Politeness will then be natural to them; they will possess it without thinking about it. But when certain outward observances are urged in words, as important only because they make us pleasing, they assume an undue importance, and the unworthiness of the motive fosters selfishness. Besides, if our own manners are not habitually consistent with the rules we give, they will be of little avail; they will in all probability be misunderstood, and will certainly be forgotten. I, at this moment, recollect an anecdote, which plainly shows that politeness cannot be shuffled on at a moment’s warning, like a garment long out of use. A worthy, but somewhat vulgar woman, residing in a secluded village, expected a visit from strangers ofsome distinction. On the spur of the occasion, she called her children together, and said, ‘After I have dressed you up, you must sit very still, till the company comes; and then you must be sure to get up and make your bows and courtesies; and you must mind and say “Yes, ma’am,” and “No, ma’am”—“Yes, sir,” and “No, sir”—“I thank you.”’ The visitors arrived—and the children, seated together like ‘four and twenty little dogs all of a row,’ uprose at once, bobbed their bows and courtesies, and jabbered over, ‘Yes, ma’am—no, ma’am—yes, sir—no, sir—I thank you—There, mother now we’ve done it!’
Foreigners charge us with a want of courtesy to each other in our usual intercourse; and I believe there is some truth in the accusation. On all great occasions, the Americans are ready, heart and hand, to assist each other; but how much more gracefully and happily the French manage in the ten thousand petty occurrences of life! And, after all, life is made up of small events. The golden chain of existence is composed of innumerable little links; and if we rudely break them, we injure its strength, as well as mar its beauty.
The happiest married couples I have ever known were those who were scrupulous in paying to each other a thousand minute attentions, generally thought too trifling to be of any importance; and yet on these very trifles depended their continued love for each other. A birth-day present, accompanied with a kind look or word—reserving for each other the most luxurious fruit, or the most comfortable chair—nay, even the habit of always saying, ‘Will you have the goodness?’ and ‘Thank you’—all these seemingly trivial things have agreat effect on domestic felicity, and on the manners of children. Early habits of preferring others to ourselves are very important. A child should always be taught to give away thelargestslice of his apple, or his cake, and to take his whistle immediately from his mouth, if a sick little brother or sister is anxious for it. I believe the easy and natural politeness of the French may in a great measure be attributed to their remarkable care in forming such early habits of self-denial.
I cordially approve of the good old fashion of never saying ‘Yes,’ or ‘No,’ to those older than ourselves. It appears to me peculiarly proper and becoming for young persons always to rise when addressed by those whose age or character demands respect. I am surprised to see how seldom the young give an aged person the inner side of the walk, when they meet in the street; and still more so when I see them unceremoniously push by their elders, while entering or leaving a room.
It is a graceful habit for children to say to each other, ‘Will you have the goodness?’—and ‘I thank you.’ I do not like to see prim, artificial children; there are few things I dislike so much as a miniature beau, or belle. But the habit of good manners by no means implies affectation or restraint. It is quite as easy to say, ‘Please to give me a piece of pie,’ as to say, ‘I want a piece of pie.’
The idea that constant politeness would render social life too stiff and restrained, springs from a false estimate of politeness. True politeness is perfect ease and freedom. It simply consists in treating others just as you love to be treated yourself. A person who acts from this principle will always be said to have ‘sweet prettyways with her.’ It is of some consequence that your daughter should know how to enter and leave a room gracefully; but it is of prodigiously more consequence that she should be in the habit of avoiding whatever is disgusting or offensive to others, and of always preferring their pleasure to her own. If she has the last, a very little intercourse with the world will teach her the first.
I believe nothing tends to make people so awkward as too much anxiety to please others. Nature is graceful; and affectation, with all her art, can never produce any thing half so pleasing. The very perfection of elegance is to imitate nature as closely as possible; and how much better it is to have the reality than the imitation! I shall probably be reminded that the best and most unaffected people are often constrained and awkward in company to which they are unaccustomed. I answer, the reason is, they do not act themselves—they are afraid they shall not do right, and that very fear makes them do wrong. Anxiety about the opinion of others fetters the freedom of nature. At home, where they act from within themselves, they would appear a thousand times better. All would appear well, if they never tried to assume what they did not possess. Everybody is respectable and pleasing so long as he is perfectly natural. I will make no exception—Nature isalwaysgraceful. The most secluded and the most ignorant have some charm about them, so long as they affect nothing—so long as they speak and act from the impulses of their own honest hearts, without any anxiety as to what others think of it.
Coarseness and vulgarity are the effects of education and habit; they cannot be charged upon nature. Truepoliteness may be cherished in the hovel as well as in the palace; and the most tattered drapery cannot conceal its winning charms.
As far as is consistent with your situation and duties, early accustom your children to an intercourse with strangers. I have seen young persons who were respectful and polite at home, seized with a most painful and unbecoming bashfulness, as soon as a guest entered. To avoid this evil, allow children to accompany you as often as possible, when you make calls and social visits. Occasional interviews with intelligent and cultivated individuals have a great influence on early character and manners, particularly if parents evidently place a high value upon acquaintances of that description. I have known the destiny of a whole family changed for the better, by the friendship of one of its members with a person of superior advantages and correct principles.
But it must be remembered that a call, or a social visit, may be made almost as injurious as a party, if children are encouraged in showing off, or constantly habituated to hearing themselves talked about. Much as the failing has been observed and laughed at, it is still too common for mothers to talk a great deal about their children. The weariness with which strangers listen to such domestic accounts is a slight evil compared with the mischief done to children, by inducing them to think themselves of so much importance: they should never be taught to consider themselves of any consequence, except at home in the bosom of their own families.
Nothing tends to foster the genuine politeness which springs from good feeling, so much as scrupulous attention to the aged. There is something extremelydelightful and salutary in the free and happy intercourse of the old and young. The freshness and enthusiasm of youth cheers the dreariness of age; and age can return the benefit a hundred fold, by its mild maxims of experience and wisdom. In this country, youth and age are too much separated; the young flock together, and leave the old to themselves. We seem to act upon the principle that there cannot be sympathy between these two extremes of life; whereas there may be, in fact, a most charming sympathy—a sympathy more productive of mutual benefit than any other in the world.
The aged, from the loneliness of their situation, the want of active employment, and an enfeebled state of health, are apt to look upon the world with a gloomy eye; and sometimes their gloom is not unmixed with bitterness: hence arises the complaint of their harshness and asperity towards the follies of youth. These evils, so naturally growing out of their isolated situation, would seldom gain power over the old, if they were accustomed to gentleness, attention, and deference from the young; they would be softened by juvenile love, and cheered by juvenile gaiety. Such intercourse sheds a quiet brightness on the decline of life, like sunshine on a weather-beaten tree, or a moss-covered dwelling. What is there on earth more beautiful than an aged person full of content and benevolence!
In China, it is the custom for young people always to stand with head uncovered in the presence of their seniors. Perhaps this is carrying the outward forms of respect to an inconvenient excess; but theprincipleis true to nature and goodness. The mere circumstance ofbeing old should insure peculiar deference and attention even from strangers. It is considered a sign of a good heart to love little children; I think spontaneous kindness for the aged is a much better proof. I have seen gentlemen, who, in mixed companies, always bestowed the largest share of attention upon the old and neglected.—Had I a beloved daughter, I would choose such a man for her husband.
The German custom of giving Christmas presents to parents, brothers, and sisters, has a happy influence upon the affections, and of course upon the manners. The enjoyment is entirely anti-selfish—it consists in the experience, that ‘it is more blessed togivethan toreceive.’ What can be purer than the eager pleasure of a group of children busy in preparing a gift for a parent, and anxious to keep their little secret, in order to produce a joyful surprise? If their offerings are of their own manufacture, a double good is produced; both ingenuity and love are excited, and the motive that excites them is holy. It has a good effect for parents to place a superior value upon whatever children make themselves—such as all the varieties of needle-books, pin-cushions, boxes, &c.
One very prevalent fault among children is a want of politeness to domestics. Young people should not, from mere whim and caprice, be allowed to make demands upon the time and patience of those who are hired to attend upon the family. They should make no unnecessary trouble in the kitchen; and when they ask for anything, they should speak politely—saying, ‘Will you have the goodness?’ ‘I thank you,’ &c. Such conduct greatly tends to make domestics morerespectful, kind, and obliging. Miss Edgeworth, in her work on Education, recommends that children should never be allowed to speak a single word to a servant; and that they should be kept in a part of the house entirely remote, for fear of contamination. Such a system cannot be carried into effect in this country; and I am thankful it cannot. A child cannot know the nature of such an injunction,—his inexperienced mind cannot form an idea of the frightful and vulgar stories his mother dreads his hearing in the kitchen. He is told not to talk with the domestics, and he at once conceives an idea of superiority, and thinks he is not bound to pay any regard to their feelings or happiness. This principle is a bad one, under any form of government; but in our country its application is peculiarly preposterous; for those who are servants now may be mistresses next year; and those whokeepdomestics now maybedomestics hereafter. Still, I think it is very injurious to children to form a habit of staying in the kitchen; not on account of any difference in station,—but because we change domestics so frequently in this country, and must necessarily be often uncertain as to their habits and principles. If I were sure that a girl was conscientious, and never told vulgar or superstitious stories, I should be perfectly willing to trust children of any age to her influence. And even if she were a stranger to me, I would neverforbida child’s going into the kitchen, oradvisehim not to talk with her. I should rather he would run the risk of hearing a vulgar, or superstitious story, than to infest his spirit with pride. But though I would never give children any rules to this effect, I would by asilent influencekeep themwith myself as much as possible. I would make the parlor pleasant to them—I would supply them with interesting employment—I would do everything to promote full confidence and companionship between them and their parents—I would make the bond between brothers and sisters strong, by fostering mutual love, by teaching them to speak politely, to act kindly, to regard each other’s wants, and respect each other’s property. By these means, the mind and the heart would be so occupied, that children would have no temptation to spend their evenings in the kitchen. But my motive for pursuing such a guarded course, would be no idea of superiority (for I acknowledge none, but degrees of goodness); I would withdraw them from the influence of domestics merely because there is a chance that such influence will be impure. If I were certain of the good principles and judicious conversation of a girl, I should not deem precaution necessary. And one thing is certain,—a domestic who is worthy of being kept in your house, is worthy of being treated with kindness and perfect politeness; and children should be early instructed never to speak rudely, or make unnecessary demands upon her time and patience. I am aware that there are peculiar difficulties attending this relation in our republican country,—there is mutually too much jealousy of being encroached upon. But it is one of the evils which grow out of a multitude of blessings; and whether a domestic be ungrateful or not, it will be a satisfaction that you have done your duty, and taught your children to do theirs.
In connexion with politeness, I would again allude to the great importance ofhabits of observation. Whatis called native politeness is entirely the result of kind feelings combined with habits of attention. Everybody has observed that men of the world have a wonderful facility in adapting themselves to all varieties of character. Their faculty of pleasing everybody seems like instinct, yet, in fact, it is merely the result of close observation. People who have bad hearts can attain this power, and exert it when they choose, from no other excitement but vanity, or self-interest. But this is no reason why the same power should not be exerted to good purposes, and with good motives.
A ready discrimination of character is attained by habits of observation; and merely from a want of these habits, excellent hearted people often make blunders painful to themselves and others. We all know by our own feelings, that it is not pleasant to have the attention of strangers called to any personal defect we may have; yet well meaning people will sometimes strangely persist in such conversation.—They will not only ask what produced a scar, but they will insist upon knowing how long you have been troubled with it, whether the distemper is hereditary in your family, and whether you ever expect it will appear again. It is a chance if they do not gratuitously add stories of half a dozen individuals, who died of the same disorder, or bestowed it upon their children.
Some people are singularly perverse in praising such qualities as their hearers do not possess, and perhaps have no means of possessing. For instance, talking to the poor about the great power and influence of wealth,—enlarging upon the prodigious advantages of intelligence and learning to the uneducated—and flying intoraptures about beauty in presence of the ugly and deformed. Now, in all these instances, a littleattentionto the movements of our own minds would teach us at once how to apply the golden rule.
In our intercourse with others, it should be our object to discover what they wish tohear, not what we wish tosay. Literary people are often unpleasant companions in mixed society, because they frequently have not the power of adapting themselves to others. They have given their attention to books more than to characters; and they talk on such subjects as please themselves, without thinking whether they will please others. What is called affectation and pedantry, is half the time mere heedlessness and want of observation.
Mrs. Madison was esteemed the most thoroughly polite woman in America. Others might perhaps enter a room as gracefully, or superintend at table with as much dignity; the secret of her power lay in her wonderful adaptation to all sorts of characters. She was emphatically anobserving woman. As Jefferson had no wife, she presided sixteen years at Washington;[4]during all which time, she is said never to have forgotten the most trifling peculiarities of character, that had once come under her observation: she always remembered them, and fashioned her conversation accordingly. Some may object to the exercise of this power, lest it should lead to insincerity; and the charge may well be brought against that kind of false politeness, which springs merely from a love of popularity. Politeness is not the only goodthing corrupted by an unworthy motive; all precious coins have a counterfeit. When we are polite to others entirely forour own sakes, we are deceitful; nothing selfish has truth and goodness in it. But there is such a thing as true politeness, always kind, but never deceitful. It is right to cherish good-will toward all our fellow-creatures, and to endeavor to make them as happy as we conscientiously can. The outward forms of politeness are but the expressions of such feelings as should be in every human heart. It would be wrong to tell people we love them dearly, when in fact we know nothing about them; or to urge them to visit our houses, when we do not want to see them. But we are bound to be kind and attentive to all our fellow-creatures, when they come in our way, and to avoid giving them any unnecessary pain, by our manners or conversation.
In order to teach children the right sort of politeness, it must be taught through the agency of a pure motive. They should not be taught to observe and respect the feelings of others for the sake of making themselves pleasing, but merely because it is kind and benevolent to do so.
If I saw a child point out the patched or ragged garment of a poor companion, I would not say, ‘You must not laugh at her clothes; if you do, she will think you are proud’—I would say, ‘It grieves me very much to see you so unkind. If your mother were poor, and could not afford to get you new clothes, would it not hurt your feelings to be laughed at? Does not the Bible tell you to do to others as you would wish tohave them do to you? You must observe this precious rule in little things, as well as in great things.’
From the foregoing hints, it will be seen that true politeness is the spontaneous movement of a good heart and an observing mind. Benevolence will teach us tenderness towards the feelings of others, and habits of observation will enable us to judge promptly and easily what those feelings are.
Outward politeness can be learned in set forms at school; but at the best, it will be hollow and deceptive. Genuine politeness, like everything else that is genuine, must come from the heart.
FOOTNOTES:[3]Pliny, who gave this advice, lived long before the invention of printing; if such a precaution were necessarythen, what would he saynow?[4]When the president has no wife, or daughter, at Washington, the lady of the highest officer in the cabinet presides at the mansion on all state occasions.
[3]Pliny, who gave this advice, lived long before the invention of printing; if such a precaution were necessarythen, what would he saynow?
[3]Pliny, who gave this advice, lived long before the invention of printing; if such a precaution were necessarythen, what would he saynow?
[4]When the president has no wife, or daughter, at Washington, the lady of the highest officer in the cabinet presides at the mansion on all state occasions.
[4]When the president has no wife, or daughter, at Washington, the lady of the highest officer in the cabinet presides at the mansion on all state occasions.