No gentleman—to come to practicalities again—will indulge in ridiculing what intelligent, enlightened persons receive as truth, on any point, much less upon this. Nor will a well-bred man permit himself the habit of being late at church—were it only that those who stand in a servile relation to others, are often deprived of time for suitable preliminaries of the toilet, etc., he will carefully avoid this vulgarity.
The tendency to materialism, so strongly characterizing the age in which we live, produces, among its pernicious collateral effects, a disposition to reduce "Heaven's last, best gift to man" to the same practical standard by which we judge of all matters of the outer life,—of each other especially. Well might Burke deplore the departure of the Age of Chivalry! But not even the prophetic eye of genius could discern the degeneracy that was to increase so rapidly, from the day in which he wrote, to this. As a mere matter of personal gratification, I would cherish the inclination to idealize in regard to the fairer part of creation! There is enough that is stern, hard, baldly utilitarian, in life; we have no need to rob this "one fair spirit" of every poetic attribute, by system! Few habits have so much the effect to elevate us above the clods we tread ploddingly over in the dreary highway of mortal existence, as that of investing woman with the purest, highest attributes of our common nature, and bearing ourselves towards her in accordance with these elevated sentiments. And when compelled, in individual instances, to set aside these cherished impressions, let nothing induce us to forget that passive, silent forbearance is our only resource. True manhood can never become the active antagonist of defencelessness.
I am almost ashamed to remind you of the gross impropriety of speaking loosely and loudly of ladies of your acquaintance in the hearing of strangers, of desecrating their names by mouthing them in bar-rooms and similar public places, scribbling them upon windows, recording them, without their permission, in the registers kept at places visited from curiosity, etc., etc. You have no moral right to take such liberties in this respect, as you would not tolerate in the relation of brother, son, or husband.
Think, then, and speak, ever, with due reverence of those guardian angels,
"Into whose hands from first to last,
This world with all its destinies,
Devotedly by Heaven seems cast!"
If you determine to conform yourselves, as far as in you lies, to the model presented for your imitation by Him who said—"Be ye, therefore, perfect, even as I am perfect," you will not disregard the cultivation of a ready sympathy with the sufferings and trials of your fellow beings. In place of adopting a system that will not only steel your heart, but infuse into your whole nature distrust and suspicion, you will, like Him who went about doing good, quickly discern suffering, in whatever form it presents itself, and minister, at least, the balm of a kind word, when naught else may be offered. You will thus learn not only to pity the erring, but, perchance, sometimes to ask yourselves in profound humility—"who hath made me to differ?"
Young men sometimes fall into the impression that a mocking insensibility to human woe is manly—something grand and distinguished. So they turn with lofty scorn from a starving child, make the embarrassment and distress of a poor mother with a wailing infant the subject of audible mirth in a rail-car, or stage-coach, ridicule the peevishness of illness, the tears of wounded sensibility, or the confessions of the penitent! Now, it seems to me, that all this is super-human in its sublime elevation! My small knowledge of the history of the greatly good, affords no parallels for the adoption of such a creed. I have read of a Howard who terminated a life devoted to the benefit of his race, in a noisome dungeon, where he sought to minister to human suffering; of a Fenelon, and a Cheverus whose Catholic spirit broke the thralling restrains of sectarianism, in favor of general humanity; of the graceful chivalry and large benevolence of Sir Walter Raleigh and Sir Philip Sidney; of triumphant soldiers who bound up the wounds and preserved the lives of a fallen foe; of a Wilberforce, a Pease, and a Father Mathew; of Leigh Richmond, Reginald Heber, and Robert Hall; of the parable of the good Samaritan, and of its Divine Author—and I believe the mass of mankind agree with me in, at least, an abstract admiration for the characters of each! And though no great achievements in the cause of Philanthropy may be in our power, though no mighty deeds may embalm our memories amid the imperishable records of Time, let us not overlook those small acts of kindness, those trifling proofs of sympathy, which all have at command. A look, a word, a smile—what talismanic power do even these sometimes possess! Remember, then, that,
"——Heaven decrees
To all the gift of ministering to ease!"
In close association with the wish to minister to the happiness of others, as far as in us lies, is that of avoiding every self-indulgence that may interfere with the comfort or the rights of others. Hence the cultivation of good-humor, and of habits of neatness, order, and regularity. Prompted by this rule, we will not smoke in the streets, in rail-cars, on the decks of steamers, at the entrance of concert and lecture rooms, or in parlors frequented by ladies. We will not even forget that neglect of matters of the toilet, in the nicest details, may render us unpleasant companions for those accustomed to fastidiousness upon these points.
To the importance of well-regulated habits of Exercise, Temperance, and Relaxation, I have already called your attention in a previous Letter.