Were I asked to give a recipe for the formation of a good manner I should recommend an equal mixture of self-confidence and humility as the first essential, then a considerable desire to please, tempered by the self-respect which preserves from officiousness and that annoying air of “ingratiating” themselves that some men assume in society. There must be perfect self-possession, though in the very young this is scarcely expected, a little becoming shyness sitting very well upon them. “I like a shy man. He’s getting so scarce,” said a very pretty woman at a ball not long since. “Find one, quick, and introduce him.” Her laughing emissaries went off to search for the desired article, and after a while returned with the report that the only shy man in the room was engaged for every dance!
Add gentleness to self-possession.
When self-possession has been acquired it is well to add on to it the saving grace of gentleness. This quality is much misunderstood by men. In women they adore it; in themselves and each other they undervalue it. But women love gentleness in men. It is a most telling piece of the necessary equipment for society. A gentle manner, a gentle voice, and the absence of all self-assertion, that is at the root of the matter, have won more love than good looks.
Carlyle called the members of upper-class society “amiable stoics,” in reference to the equable serenity of countenance and calm self-possession of manner with which they accept those occasionally trying conditions of social life which necessitate self-denial in matters great and small.
“Amiable stoics.”
This placidity is the result of long training. Not just at first does a young man bow to the decree of his hostess which separates him from the girl he admires and tells him off to take some uninteresting dowager to the supper-room. But should he evince any sign of discontent with the arrangement he is at once convicted of ill-breeding. The man of “perfect manners” is he who is calmly courteous in all circumstances, as attentive outwardly to the plain and the elderly as he is to the young and pretty.
The man of “perfect manners.”
It is difficult to renounce the delightful tête-à-tête with a charming girl when asked by his hostess to dance with some poor wallflower who has been neglected for half-a-dozen dances. But it has to be borne, and eventually it brings its own reward. The “duty” dance is a hard thing, and good manners involve a considerable amount of self-denial; but repetition soon makes it comparatively easy, and invitations of an agreeable kind pour in on the young man who shows himself willing to practise those peculiar forms of selflessness, opportunities for which so frequently arise in society.
Self-denial not unrewarded.
It is probably in imitation of this surface equanimity that the wooden stare has been adopted so universally by our golden youth.