Principles of politeness, and of knowing the world

by Earl of Philip Dormer Stanhope Chesterfield

When an awkward fellow first comes into a room, he attempts to bow, and his sword, if he wears one, goes 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. When his tea or coffee is handed to him, he spreads his handkerchief upon his knees, 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 awkward; 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 upon 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 differently 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. 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 cloaths. 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 be-sprinkles 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 into his bosom, and next into his breeches. In short, he neither dresses nor acts like any other person, but is particularly awkward 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.

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.

Actions, that would otherwise be pleasing, frequently become ridiculous by the manner of doing them. If a lady drop 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, that is sure to please; whereas the other would do it so awkwardly as to be laughed at.

You may also know a well-bred person by his manner of sitting. Ashamed and confused, the awkward 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 sit genteely in different companies, to loll gracefully, where you are authorized to take that liberty, and sit up respectfully, where that freedom is not allowable.

In short, you cannot conceive how advantageous a graceful carriage and a pleasing address are, upon all occasions; they ensnare the affections, seal 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 awkward. 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.

There is also an awkwardness 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 awkward and vulgar. It is the same to address people by improper titles, as sir for my lord; to begin a story without being able to finish it, and break off in the middle, with, ‘I have forgot the rest.’

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 spatter 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 face so close to yours, as to offend you with their breath. 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 sensible men having lost ground for want of these little graces, and many, possessed of these perfections alone, having made their way through life, who otherwise would not have been noticed.

CLEANLINESS of PERSON.

But, as no one can please in company, however graceful in his air, unless he be clean and neat in his person, this qualification comes next to be considered.