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.
RULES for CONVERSATION.
Having now given you full and sufficient instructions for making you well received in the best companies; nothing remains but that I lay before you some few rules for your conduct in such company. Many things on this subject I have mentioned before, but some few matters remain to be mentioned now.
1. Talk, then, frequently but not long together, lest you tire the persons you are speaking to; for few persons talk so well upon a subject, as to keep up the attention of their hearers for any length of time.
2. Avoid telling stories in company, unless they are very short indeed, and very applicable to the subject you are upon; in this case relate them in as few words as possible, without the least digression, and with some apology; as that you hate the telling of stories, but the shortness of it induced you. And, if your story has any wit in it, be particularly careful not to laugh at it yourself. Nothing is more tiresome and disagreeable than a long tedious narrative; it betrays a gossiping disposition, and great want of imagination; and nothing is more ridiculous than to express an approbation of your own story, by a laugh.