Sincerity is another essential characteristic of courtesy; for, without it, the social system would have no permanent foundation or hope of continuance. It is the want of this which makes society, what it is said to be, artificial.
Good breeding, in a great measure, consists in being easy, but not indifferent; good humored, but not familiar; passive, but not unconcerned. It includes, also, a sensibility nice, yet correct; a tact delicate, yet true. There is a beautiful uniformity in the demeanor of a polite man; and it is impossible not to be struck with his affable air. There is a golden mean in the art, which it should be every body’s object to attain, without descending to obsequiousness on the one hand, or to familiarity on the other. In politeness, as in everything else, there is the medium betwixt too much and too little, betwixt constraint and freedom; for civilities carried to extreme are wearisome, and mere ceremony is not politeness, but the reverse.
The truly pious people are the truly courteous. “Religion,” says Leighton, “is in this mistaken sometimes, in that we think it imprints a roughness and austerity upon the mind and carriage. It doth, indeed, bar all vanity and lightness, and all compliance;” but it softens the manners, tempers the address, and refines the heart.
Pride is one of the greatest obstacles to true courtesy that can be mentioned. He who assumes too much on his own merit, shows that he does not understand the simplest principles of politeness. The feeling of pride is, of itself, highly culpable. No man, whether he be a monarch on the throne, or the meanest beggar in his realm, possesses any right to comport himself with a haughty or discourteous air towards his fellow men. The poet truly says:
“What most ennobles human nature,
Was ne’er the portion of the proud.”
It is easy to bestow a kind word, or assume a gracious smile; these will recommend us to every one; while a haughty demeanor, or an austere look, may forfeit forever the favor of those whose good opinion we may be anxious to secure. The really courteous man has a thorough knowledge of human nature, and can make allowances for its weaknesses. He is always consistent with himself. The polite alone know how to make others polite, as the good alone know how to inspire others with a relish for virtue.
Having mentioned pride as being opposed to true politeness, I may class affectation with it, in that respect. Affectation is a deviation from, at the same time that it is an imitation of, nature. It is the result of bad taste, and of mistaken notions of one’s own qualities. The other vices are limited, and have each a particular object; but affectation pervades the whole conduct, and detracts from the merit of whatever virtues and good dispositions a man may possess. Beauty itself loses its attraction, when disfigured by affectation. Even to copy from the best patterns is improper, because the imitation can never be so good as the original. Counterfeit coin is not so valuable as the real, and when discovered, it cannot pass current. Affectation is a sure sign that there is something to conceal, rather than anything to be proud of, in the character and disposition of the persons practicing it.
In religion, affectation, or, as it is fitly called, hypocrisy, is reprehensible in the highest degree. However grave be their deportment, of all affected persons, those who, without any real foundation, make too great pretensions to piety, are certainly the most culpable. The mask serves to conceal innumerable faults, and, as has been well remarked, a false devotion too often usurps the place of the true. We can less secure ourselves against pretenders in matters of religion, than we can against any other species of impostors; because the mind being biased in favor of the subject, consults not reason as to the individual. The conduct of people, which cannot fail to be considered an evidence of their principles, ought at all times to be conformable to their pretensions. When God alone is all we are concerned for, we are not solicitous about mere human approbation.
Hazlitt says:—“Few subjects are more nearly allied than these two—vulgarity and affectation. It may be said of them truly that ‘thin partitions do their bounds divide.’ There cannot be a surer proof of a low origin or of an innate meanness of disposition, than to be always talking and thinking of being genteel. One must feel a strong tendency to that which one is always trying to avoid; whenever we pretend, on all occasions, a mighty contempt for anything, it is a pretty clear sign that we feel ourselves very nearly on a level with it. Of the two classes of people, I hardly know which is to be regarded with most distaste, the vulgar aping the genteel, or the genteel constantly sneering at and endeavoring to distinguish themselves from the vulgar. These two sets of persons are always thinking of one another; the lower of the higher with envy, the more fortunate of their less happy neighbors with contempt. They are habitually placed in opposition to each other; jostle in their pretensions at every turn; and the same objects and train of thought (only reversed by the relative situations of either party) occupy their whole time and attention. The one are straining every nerve, and outraging common sense, to be thought genteel; the others have no other object or idea in their heads than not to be thought vulgar. This is but poor spite; a very pitiful style of ambition. To be merely not that which one heartily despises, is a very humble claim to superiority; to despise what one really is, is still worse.
“Gentility is only a more select and artificial kind of vulgarity. It cannot exist but by a sort of borrowed distinction. It plumes itself up and revels in the homely pretensions of the mass of mankind. It judges of the worth of everything by name, fashion, opinion; and hence, from the conscious absence of real qualities or sincere satisfaction in itself, it builds its supercilious and fantastic conceit on the wretchedness and wants of others. Violent antipathies are always suspicious, and betray a secret affinity. The difference between the ‘Great Vulgar and the Small’ is mostly in outward circumstances. The coxcomb criticises the dress of the clown, as the pedant cavils at the bad grammar of the illiterate. Those who have the fewest resources in themselves, naturally seek the food of their self-love elsewhere. The most ignorant people find most to laugh at in strangers; scandal and satire prevail most in country-places; and a propensity to ridicule every the slightest or most palpable deviation from what we happen to approve, ceases with the progress of common sense. True worth does not exult in the faults and deficiencies of others; as true refinement turns away from grossness and deformity instead of being tempted to indulge in an unmanly triumph over it. Raphael would not faint away at the daubing of a sign painter, nor Homer hold his head the higher for being in the company of the poorest scribbler that ever attempted poetry. Real power, real excellence, does not seek for a foil in inferiority, nor fear contamination from coming in contact with that which is coarse and homely. It reposes on itself, and is equally free from spleen and affectation. But the spirit of both these small vices is in gentility as the word stands in vulgar minds: of affected delight in its own would-be qualifications, and of ineffable disdain poured out upon the involuntary blunders or accidental disadvantages of those whom it chooses to treat as inferiors.