DIGNITY of MANNERS.
There is a certain dignity of manners, without which the very best characters will not be valued.
Romping, loud and frequent laughing, punning, joking, mimickry, waggery, and too great and indiscriminate familiarity, will render any one contemptible, in spite of all his knowledge or his merit. These may constitute a merry fellow, but a merry fellow was never yet respectable. Indiscriminate familiarity, will either offend your superiors, or make you pass for their dependant, or toad-eater, and it will put your inferiors on a degree of equality with you, that may be troublesome.
A joke, if it carries a sting along with it, is no longer a joke but an affront; and even if it has no sting, unless its witticism is delicate and facetious, instead of giving pleasure, it will disgust; or, if the company should laugh, they will probably laugh at the jester rather than the jest.
Punning is a mere playing upon words, and far from being a mark of sense: Thus, were we to say, such a dress is commodious, one of these wags would answer odious; or, that, whatever it has been, it is now be commodious. Others will give us an answer different from what we should expect, without either wit, or the least beauty of thought; as, ‘Where’s my Lord?’—‘In his clothes, unless he is in bed.’—‘How does this wine taste?’—‘A little moist, I think.’—‘How is this to be eaten?’—‘With your mouth;’ and so on, all which (you will readily apprehend) are low and vulgar. If your witticisms are not instantly approved by the laugh of the company, for heaven’s sake, don’t attempt to be witty for the future; for you may take it for granted, the defect is in yourself, and not in your hearers.
As to a mimick or a wag, he is little else than a buffoon, who will distort his mouth and his eyes to make people laugh. Be assured, no one person ever demeaned himself to please the rest, unless he wished to be thought the Merry-Andrew of the company, and whether this character is respectable, I will leave you to judge.
If a man’s company is coveted on any other account than his knowledge, his good sense, or his manners, he is seldom respected by those who invite him, but made use of only to entertain. ‘Let’s have such-a-one, for he sings a good song, or he is always joking or laughing;’ or ‘Let’s send for such-a-one, for he is a good bottle companion;’ these are degrading distinctions, that preclude all respect and esteem. Whoever is had (as the phrase is) for the sake of any qualification singly, is merely that thing he is had for, is never considered in any other light, and, of course, never properly respected, let his intrinsic merits be what they will.
You may possibly suppose this dignity of manners to border upon pride; but it differs as much from pride, as true courage from blustering.
To flatter a person right or wrong, is abject flattery, and to consent readily to do every thing proposed by a company, be it silly or criminal, is full as degrading, as to dispute warmly upon every subject, and to contradict upon all occasions. To preserve dignity, we should modestly assert our own sentiments, though we politely acquiesce in those of others.
So again, to support dignity of character, we should neither be frivolously curious about trifles, nor be laboriously intent upon little objects that deserve not a moment’s attention; for this implies an incapacity in matters of greater importance.
A great deal likewise depends upon our air, address and expressions; an awkward address and vulgar expressions infer either a low turn of mind, or low education.
Insolent contempt, or low envy, is incompatible also with dignity of manners. Low-bred persons, fortunately lifted in the world in fine clothes and fine equipages, will insolently look down on all those who cannot afford to make as good an appearance, and they openly envy those who perhaps make a better. They also dread the being slighted; of course, are suspicious and captious; are uneasy themselves, and make every body else so about them.
A certain degree of outward seriousness in looks and actions gives dignity, while a constant smirk upon the face (that insipid silly smile, which fools have when they would be civil) and whiffling motions, are strong marks of futility.
But above all a dignity of character is to be acquired best by a certain firmness in all our actions. A mean, timid and passive complaisance, lets a man down more than he is aware of; but still his firmness and resolution should not extend to brutality, but be accompanied with a peculiar and engaging softness, or mildness.
If you discover any hastiness in your temper, and find it apt to break out into rough and unguarded expressions, watch it narrowly, and endeavour to curb it; but let no complaisance, no weak desire of pleasing, no wheedling, urge you to do that which discretion forbids; but persist and persevere in all that is right. In your connexions and friendships, you will find this rule of use to you. Invite and preserve attachments by your firmness; but labour to keep clear of enemies by a mildness of behaviour. Disarm those enemies you may unfortunately have (and few are without them) by a gentleness of manner, but make them feel the steadiness of your just resentment! For there is a wide difference between bearing malice and a determined self-defence; the one is imperious, but the other is prudent and justifiable.
In directing your servants, or any person you have a right to command; if you deliver your orders mildly, and in that engaging manner which every gentleman should study to do, you would be cheerfully, and consequently, well obeyed; but if tyrannically, you would be very unwillingly served, if served at all. A cool, steady determination should shew that you will be obeyed, but a gentleness in the manner of enforcing that obedience should make your service a cheerful one. Thus will you be loved without being despised, and feared without being hated.
I hope I need not mention vices. A man who has patiently been kicked out of company, may have as good a pretence to courage, as one rendered infamous by his vices, may to dignity of any kind; however, of such consequence are appearances, that an outward decency and an affected dignity of manners will even keep such a man the longer from sinking. If therefore you should unfortunately have no intrinsic merit of your own, keep up, if possible, the appearance of it; and the world will possibly give you credit for the rest. A versatility of manners is as necessary in social life, as a versatility of parts in political. This is no way blamable, if not used with an ill design. We must, like the cameleon, often put on the hue of persons we wish to be well with; and it surely can never be blamable, to endeavour to gain the good will or affection of any one, if when obtained, we do not mean to abuse it.