A Memorial of Mrs. Margaret Breckinridge

by John Breckinridge; Samuel Miller

I shall not tax either your patience or my own, by entering largely into the subject of manners. On this extensive subject I refer you to a volume on "Clerical Manners and Habits" which I published a few years ago, and in which considerable minuteness of detail is indulged. For although that work was intended more particularly for the benefit of clergymen, and especially of candidates for the sacred office; yet a large portion of it is equally applicable to all classes and professions, and to both sexes. I recommend the volume referred to, to your serious attention, and to your careful study. And whatever may be your situation in life, I think you will find much in it worthy of your regard. At any rate, if it be not so, I have failed of gaining my main object in its publication.

I will not, however, content myself with merely referring you to the volume in question. It is my wish, in this little system of affectionate advices, to call your attention to a few particulars on this subject which may be considered as more immediately appropriate at your present tender age, and, perhaps, on that account, more likely to dwell upon your memory than the contents of a volume.

You will, perhaps, ask me, what I mean by those "good manners" which I would recommend? I answer, by such manners I mean that mode of personal address and deportment toward all with whom we converse which is dictated by the meekness, benevolence, and purity of the Gospel. In a word, "true politeness"—the most genuine politeness—that which I would earnestly desire those whom I love to cherish and cultivate—is the religion of Christ acted out in the whole temper, conversation, and deportment. The simple, unembarrassed, gentle expression of mingled respect and kindness toward all with whom we converse, from the hovel to the palace, is the perfection of manners. These are manners which become all times, places, companies, and circumstances, and which will carry their possessor through the world with acceptance and comfort.

Perhaps, in your inexperience, you may be disposed to ask, what is the great value of such manners as are here recommended? If you have any doubt on this subject now, I am persuaded a little more knowledge of the world will satisfy you that their value is unspeakably great. Few people are adequate judges of those solid intellectual and moral qualities which form a character of high excellence. But of personal manners, all are judges; at any rate, all are capable of perceiving, and in some degree estimating, their value. Only a small portion of those with whom you converse are able to discern whether you are wise and well informed; but every child can see whether you have a sweet voice, a pleasant countenance, an amiable, kind and respectful mode of address, or the contrary. Can there be, then, a more obvious dictate, both of policy and duty, than to cultivate that which, to multitudes, is more attractive than real merit; which secures to merit a hearing, and an influence which it would not otherwise obtain; and which will be likely, in many cases, to open a door to usefulness which, without it, would, in all probability, have continued impenetrably closed? In repeated instances have I known persons of weak minds, and of small information, but of remarkably fascinating manners, carry all before them in circles of society into which persons of far higher qualifications, both intellectual and moral, but defective in the attractions of manner, were scarcely able to obtain admittance, and very inadequately esteemed when admitted. A soft, insinuating address has, a thousand times, rendered its possessor every where acceptable and popular, when, on the score of real merit, he ought by no means to have enjoyed so much public favour.

But this is not all. Pleasant attractive manners not only have a paramount influence with the superficial and unthinking; but they have more power even on the minds of the wise and the good than is commonly imagined. To every human being, that which is intrinsically excellent, appears doubly attractive when presented in a pleasing manner. Truth, even to those who know it to be truth, finds a more cordial welcome; and duty, even among its most sincere and enlightened friends, commands a more ready obedience, when they are clothed in an attractive garb, and speak in alluring accents. That the very same words, which, when uttered by some, are intolerably offensive; when spoken in the mild, respectful manner of others, are welcome, and even delightful—that the very same action, which, performed by some, is censured; when performed by others, of perhaps less talent or virtue, is lauded to excess; are among the most notorious facts in human life; and that not in the circles of ignorance and dissipation only, but also in those of the most estimable portions of mankind.

To despise or undervalue the cultivation of manners, then, argues a great want of practical wisdom. It is a subject worthy of your constant regard. To neglect it, is equally to oppose reason and experience, and to set at naught some of the most precious means of gaining access to the human heart. And when I speak of cultivating good manners, do not imagine that I mean the formal, showy, pompous manners which some commend, and seem to aim at. The truth is, the perfection of manners—the ultimate point which is the result of the very best culture, is to attain that ease, simplicity, modesty, and gentleness of deportment in every thing, which has nothing of the artificial, nothing of display about it. But to be more particular.

The first characteristic of manners to which I would direct your attention, as lying at the foundation of all excellence, is benignity. Without the law of benevolence, reigning in the heart, and governing the temper and the life, there may be much pomp and courtliness of manner; many a heartless smile, and many a flattering form of address; but there can be no genuine politeness. The essence of this consists in the spirit of cordial good will and kindness shining in the countenance; expressing itself in the language and tones of respect and benevolent regard; and flowing through all the channels of human intercourse, and all the minutiæ of human life. This is the vital principle of good manners. Just in proportion as you really desire to increase the happiness of all around you; to consult their ease; to anticipate their wants; and to promote their welfare—you will spontaneously manifest these feelings in all situations and companies. Your whole deportment will be pleasing, attractive, and graceful, without your having studied artificial rules. This is the foundation and the sum of all; but it may not be improper to trace the radical principle into some of its minute details.

In all social intercourse, let respectful attention mark your whole manner. To turn away your eyes from the person who is addressing you; or to manifest in any way that you are thinking, or wish to be thinking, of something else, is a great breach of good manners; cannot fail of giving pain to those with whom you converse; and must deprive you of a large part of the benefit of conversation. When you look your companion gently and respectfully, but firmly in the face, you manifest attention; you enable yourselves to watch his countenance, and mark the impression which you make on his mind; to say nothing of the power of the eye in seconding and enforcing all that is said.

Cultivate affability of manner. By this I mean that style of manners which is distinguished by ease, simplicity, and courteousness; a deportment opposed to haughtiness, reserve, coldness, or taciturnity; in short, to every thing that is adapted to repel, or to prevent freedom and comfort of approach. I am aware that constitutional temperament has much to do with this. But still, it is equally true that affability may and ought to be carefully cultivated; and that there are few things better adapted to conciliate good will, to inspire confidence, to invite freedom of communication, and to place at ease all with whom we converse.