False ideas with regard to the importance of wealth and rank are very generally, though often unconsciously inculcated by modes of speech, or habits of action. To treat mere wealth with more respect than honest poverty; to speak more deferentially of a man whose only claim is a distinguished ancestry, than you do of the faithful laborer who ditches your meadows, is a slow but sure process of education, which sermons and catechisms will never be able entirely to undo. It is important to realize fully that all merely conventional distinctions are false and illusory; that only worth and usefulness can really ennoble man or woman. If we look at the subject from a rational point of view, the artificial classifications of society appear even in a ludicrous light. It would be considered a shocking violation of etiquette for the baronet’s lady to call upon the queen. The wife of the wealthy banker, or merchant, cannot be admitted to the baronet’s social circle. The intelligent mechanic and prosperous farmer is excluded from the merchant’s parlor. The farmer and mechanic would think they let themselves down by inviting a worthy day-laborer to their parties. And the day-laborer, though he were an ignoramus and a drunkard, would feel authorized to treat with contempt any intelligent and excellent man whose complexion happened to be black or brown. I once knew a grocer’s wife, who, with infinite condescension of manner, said to the wife of her neighbor the cobbler, “Why don’t you come in to see me sometimes? You needn’t keep away because my house is carpeted all over.” Hannah More tells us that the Duchess of Gloucester, wishing to circulate some tracts and verses, requested one of her ladies in waiting to stop a woman who was wheeling a barrow of oranges past the window, and ask her if she would take some ballads to sell. “No indeed!” replied the orange-woman, with an air of offended dignity. “I don’t do anything so mean as that. I don’t even sell apples.” The Duchess was much amused by her ideas of rank; but they were in fact no more absurd than her own. It is the same mean, selfish spirit which manifests itself through all these gradations. External rank belongs to the “phantom dynasties”; and if we wish our children to enjoy sound moral health, we should be careful not to teach any deference for it, either in our words or our habits. Mrs. Gaskell, in her sketch of a very conservative and prejudiced English gentlewoman, “one of the olden time,” gives a lovely touch to the picture, indicating that true natural refinement was not stifled by the prejudices of rank. Lady Ludlow had, with patronizing kindness, invited several of her social inferiors to tea. Among them was the wife of a rich baker, who, being unaccustomed to the etiquette of such company, spread a silk handkerchief in her lap, when she took a piece of cake; whereupon some of the curate’s wives began to titter, in order to show that they knew polite manners better than she did. Lady Ludlow, perceiving this, immediately spread her own handkerchief in her lap; and when the baker’s wife went to the fireplace to shake out her crumbs, my lady did the same. This silent rebuke was sufficient to prevent any further rudeness to the unsophisticated wife of the baker. No elaborate rules are necessary to teach us true natural politeness. We need only remember two short texts of Scripture: “Do unto others as ye would that they should do unto you.” “God is your Father, and all ye are brethren.”
Elderly people are apt to think that their years exempt them from paying so much attention to good manners as the young are required to do. On the contrary, they ought to be more careful in their deportment and conversation, because their influence is greater. Impure words or stories repeated by parents or grandparents may make indelible stains on the minds of their descendants, and perhaps give a sensual direction to their characters through life. No story, however funny, should ever be told, if it will leave in the memory unclean associations, either physically or morally.
A love of gossiping about other people’s affairs is apt to grow upon those who have retired from the active pursuits of life; and this is one among many reasons why it is best to keep constantly occupied. A great deal of trouble is made in neighborhoods, from no malicious motives, but from the mere excitement of telling news, and the temporary importance derived therefrom. Most village gossip, when sifted down, amounts to the little school-girl’s definition. Being asked what it was to bear false witness against thy neighbor, she replied: “It’s when nobody don’t do nothing, and somebody goes and tells of it.” One of the best and most genial of the Boston merchants, when he heard people discussing themes of scandal, was accustomed to interrupt them, by saying: “Don’t talk any more about it! Perhaps they didn’t do it; and may be they couldn’t help it.” For myself, I deem it the greatest unkindness to be told of anything said against me. I may prevent its exciting resentment in my mind; but the consciousness of not being liked unavoidably disturbs my relations with the person implicated. There is no better safeguard against the injurious habit of gossiping, than the being interested in principles and occupations; if you have these to employ your mind, you will have no inclination to talk about matters merely personal.
When we reflect that life is so full of neglected little opportunities to improve ourselves and others, we shall feel that there is no need of aspiring after great occasions to do good.
“The trivial round, the common task,
Would furnish all we need to ask;
Room to deny ourselves,—a road
To bring us daily nearer God.”
