<h2><SPAN name="MANNER" id="MANNER"></SPAN><i>MANNER.</i></h2>
<div class="sidenote">The importance of a good manner.</div>
<p class="nind"><span class="smcap">It</span> would not be easy to over-estimate the importance of a good manner
from a social point of view. It ranks far above much more important
qualities. The “rough diamonds” who conceal their traditional good heart
under a surly exterior are seldom happy people, notwithstanding their
genuine thoroughness and real goodness.</p>
<div class="sidenote">The qualities valued by society.</div>
<p>In family life and in society a gentle manner “covers a multitude of
sins.” The world and the home reflect back to us the face we present to
them. If we cultivate a bright and cordial manner we shall be heartily
received by others, though the real nature of us lies beneath as cold
and hard as salt fresh from a mine. In the home the coldness and
hardness are soon found out, but they are partially condoned for the
sake of the superficial courtesy and kindness. In society the quality of
the heart matters little, so long as the surface is, at the same time,
genial and polished.</p>
<div class="sidenote">“Life is a large bundle of little things.”</div>
<p>Life is chiefly made up of small things, and if we learn to take an
interest in<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_132" id="page_132"></SPAN>{132}</span> the trifling incidents of our friends’ lives, in the
everyday occurrences in the existence of our acquaintances, we supply
the sympathetic element that tells so largely in our favour.</p>
<div class="sidenote">Simulation may induce reality.</div>
<p>And very often the simulation of this interest induces the reality, and
our own life is brightened by participating in the pleasures and the
happiness of others, and deepened by sharing in their disappointments,
and by doing so helping them to overcome them. With a cold, forbidding
manner it is impossible to convey any such impression.</p>
<div class="sidenote">Shyness.</div>
<p>But this often comes from shyness, not only in the young, but all
through life. The youthful form of shyness is self-consciousness and
self-distrust. That which lasts through life is the fear of
self-revelation.</p>
<div class="sidenote">And reticence.</div>
<p>Even the frankest natures have often this quality of reticence, which
forbids them to reveal the inner depths of their thoughts, and makes
them hate to be divined.</p>
<p>Rochefoucauld says we all hate to be divined, though we like to divine
others; but many of us know well what a delightful thing it is to be
read like an open book by those whose thoughts reflect our own, and with
whom we discover ourselves to be in mental kinship.</p>
<div class="sidenote">The ideal life—few friends, many acquaintances.</div>
<p>The ideal life is that which has few friends but many acquaintances.
The<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_133" id="page_133"></SPAN>{133}</span> friends are close and firm ones, “grappled to our hearts with hooks
of steel,” and the circle of acquaintances offers opportunities for
adding to their number. But without an agreeable manner it is difficult
to secure these inner and outer spheres of social companionship.</p>
<div class="sidenote">A recipe for the formation of a good manner.</div>
<p>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!</p>
<div class="sidenote">Add gentleness to self-possession.</div>
<p>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<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_134" id="page_134"></SPAN>{134}</span> 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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<div class="sidenote">“Amiable stoics.”</div>
<p>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.</p>
<div class="sidenote">The man of “perfect manners.”</div>
<p>It is difficult to renounce the delightful <i>tête-à-tête</i> 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<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_135" id="page_135"></SPAN>{135}</span> 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.</p>
<div class="sidenote">Self-denial not unrewarded.</div>
<p>It is probably in imitation of this surface equanimity that the wooden
stare has been adopted so universally by our golden youth.</p>
<div class="sidenote">The wooden stare.</div>
<p>This is useful for wearing at one’s club or in the stall of a theatre,
and it at once stamps the proprietor of the stare as being “in it.” The
fashion is not confined to England. It reigns in New York, and even in
far Australia there is a select coterie of golden or gilded youth who
are beginning to learn how to abstract every atom of expression from the
countenance, and to look on vacantly or seem to do so. As yet, there is
no considerable expertness achieved in the matter in Antipodean circles,
but in New York a very fair impression of imbecility is conveyed in the
look of the ultra-fashionable young man. There are various other
important matters on which a transatlantic authority has been
instructing the youth of his generation. The one<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_136" id="page_136"></SPAN>{136}</span> involving the most
serious responsibility is connected with carrying a cane or stick, as it
is better form to call it.</p>
<div class="sidenote">Transatlantic etiquette.</div>
<p>It must be left at home when going to business, to church, or to make
calls. The idea of the latter prohibition is that, if a call is made on
a lady cane in hand, the inference would be that the caller is on
sufficiently intimate terms to look in on her casually at any time.
There is certainly subtlety in this view. It is well that the novice
should be made aware that the lowest depth of vulgarity is touched by
carrying an umbrella in a case. It is also an important item of
information that the gloves and cane must be carried in the same hand.
To do otherwise is seriously to err in social forms. Our instructor
declares that to attend oratorios and philharmonic concerts is
thoroughly bad form, indicating a tendency to be pedantic. It is much
better to go to a horse show. It is by no means considered correct to
shake hands. The proper way is to take hold of the fingers of one’s
acquaintance at the second joints, and bestow upon them one or two
decisive little jerks, as though testing their strength. “No, I thank
you,” is a form of words no longer heard in good society, having some
time since been replaced by “No, thanks.” No man with any claim to
social position would consent to pronounce the “g” at the end of the<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_137" id="page_137"></SPAN>{137}</span>
present participle of verbs. “Comin’ and goin’<span class="lftspc">”</span> are the correct forms
just now. “Don’t you know” is ridiculously correct. Men of perception do
not care to be more accurate than others of their set. “Don’t-chi-know”
is more customary, and the pronunciation marks the man as riding on the
topmost crest of the social wave. There must be a staccato sound about
the phrase, which alternates pleasantly with the languid drawl. The
latter is still in favour, and accompanies admirably the studied lack of
animation in the expression and general wooden look of the face.</p>
<p>To revert for a moment to the cane, or walking-stick.</p>
<div class="sidenote">The stick.</div>
<p>There is much to be deduced from the manner in which it is carried. The
correct style is to hold it at an angle of forty-five degrees, with the
ferule uppermost and forward. This is the sort of thing that no man
could possibly discover for himself. The natural man would incline to
carry his stick in such fashion as would tend to direct its point to the
ground. This unsophisticated mode would at once reveal him as
uninitiated in the minor morals of good manners. The latest mode of
arranging the male hair, as practised in New York, and possibly nearer
home as well, is worth noting.</p>
<div class="sidenote">The hair.</div>
<p>First it is made thoroughly wet, then brushed and parted, after which
the head is swathed with linen bands,<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_138" id="page_138"></SPAN>{138}</span> which are kept on until the hair
is thoroughly dry. This method produces the plastered appearance which
is now recognised as good form. Though cordiality of manner is rapidly
becoming obsolete, and is utterly condemned by all who have studied the
subject, yet it is a recognised fact that amiability has now superseded
sarcasm, and the up-to-date young man practises a careless superficial
benevolence of pronouncing every woman charming and every man a good
fellow.</p>
<div class="sidenote">Amiability.</div>
<p>The scathing, satiric wit of the last century was as the nadir to this
zenith of appreciative recognition of the best that is in every human
being.</p>
<p>It is pleasant to be able to add to all this minute detail about little
superficialities that the young man of to-day is a vast improvement on
his predecessors in very many ways. Swearing is out of fashion. Getting
intoxicated is decidedly “low,” and those who disgrace themselves in
this way are soon cut by their acquaintance. Some twenty years since
things were very different.</p>
<div class="sidenote">The rowdyism of twenty years ago.</div>
<p>To get tipsy was regarded as a proof of manliness. To wrench off
door-knockers and play similar senseless pranks was considered a form of
wit, and the heroes of such performances were looked on with admiring
eyes by their companions.</p>
<p>In many ways a higher standard now<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_139" id="page_139"></SPAN>{139}</span> reigns.</p>
<div class="sidenote">A higher moral standard now reigns.</div>
<p>The pictures of ballet dancers that used once to adorn a young man’s
rooms have given place to others of a higher class. Dissolute and
unprincipled men get the cold shoulder from others of their set, and
vice, thank Heaven, is thoroughly out of fashion. There is still plenty
of folly. It is inseparable from youth. But in matters of more moment
there has been immense improvement going steadily on for many years.</p>
<p>There are young men who mistake arrogance of manners for
self-possession, and who conduct themselves, when in society with lifted
chin and a haughty air that may accord very well with their own estimate
of themselves, but seem rather out of place to onlookers. Such a man
invites comparisons between his social deserts and his implied
conviction of superiority.</p>
<div class="sidenote">Arrogance of manners.</div>
<p>He may take in a few inexperienced girls and young fellows of adolescent
inability of judgment, but even these triumphs are short-lived, and he
is set down as a “pompous ass,” to use the young man’s phrase for
describing him.</p>
<p>It is good manners to articulate distinctly, and bad manners to neglect
to do so.</p>
<div class="sidenote">Distinct articulation.</div>
<p>A man need not exactly take lessons in elocution (though they would not
be amiss), but he can teach himself to pronounce clearly and use the<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_140" id="page_140"></SPAN>{140}</span></p>
<div class="sidenote">Tones of voice.</div>
<p class="nind">tone of voice that is best suited to the various occasions when he
converses. A breathy voice is extremely disagreeable. The syllables come
out enveloped in a sort of windy roar. This is owing to a wrong way of
breathing, and it can easily be cured, with advantage to the health as
well as the personality.</p>
<div class="sidenote">The confidential tone.</div>
<p>A very confidential tone is always used by some men when they speak to
women. If they merely “hope your gown did not get muddy” they look into
one’s eyes and murmur like any sucking dove. But if their articulation
is indistinct they are quite a nuisance. One has to ask them to repeat
themselves, and the nonsense they talk shows up very badly in an
<i>encore</i>. But when they enunciate clearly their devoted murmurings
sometimes “take” very well. It is not until a woman has seen three or
four others besides herself approached in the same afternoon or evening
with similar devout and prayer-like whispering that she begins to value
this particularity at its true worth.</p>
<div class="sidenote">The word “fellow.”</div>
<p>With reference to the word “fellow” a subtle distinction or two must be
drawn. In lowly circles a young man is called “a fellow”; young men
“fellows.” So it is in good society, but with a distinct difference. It
is not very easy to make this difference clear. Young men of good
position refer very<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_141" id="page_141"></SPAN>{141}</span> commonly to others of their acquaintance as “the
fellows,” but they would not use the word to describe young men
generally. Women, young and old, of the lower classes speak of young men
generally as “fellows,” but gentlewomen never do so. A lady never uses
the expression “A girl and a fellow.” At the same time she may
frequently speak of “young fellows.” I am aware that there is a want of
clearness in all this, but it is a matter among many others that can
only be acquired by being accustomed to the usages of good society.</p>
<div class="sidenote">The “Autocrat’s” test-word.</div>
<p>The Autocrat of the Breakfast-table said in one of his books that if he
heard a woman pronounce the word “How,” he learned more about her in an
instant than a third person could tell him in an hour. If she called it
“haow,” she revealed herself as belonging to the uncultured classes.</p>
<p>In the same way, if a girl were to say “I met a fellow yesterday,” she
would unconsciously make a similar self-revelation. A young man would
make an equal mistake if he were to speak of “my sister’s fellow.” But
he would be correct enough if he were to say “the fellow my sister’s
engaged to.”</p>
<div class="sidenote">“Tweedledum and tweedledee.”</div>
<p>These little <i>nuances</i> of expression remind one of the old rhyme—</p>
<div class="poetry">
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">“Strange that such difference should be<br/></span>
<span class="i1">’Twixt tweedledum and tweedledee.”<br/></span></div>
</div></div>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_142" id="page_142"></SPAN>{142}</span></p>
<div class="sidenote">Small talk alone will not suffice.</div>
<p>Though small talk is as indispensable in social life as pennies and
halfpennies in the transactions of everyday existence, we must also have
conversational gold and silver at our command if we wish to be
successful. When the preliminaries of acquaintanceship are over there is
no necessity to keep up the commonplaces of small talk. To do so is
rather insulting to women.</p>
<div class="sidenote">“Talking down” really an insult.</div>
<p>To be “talked down to” is always aggravating, especially when one feels
a conviction that the person who is thus affably stooping for one’s
benefit belongs in reality to a lower intellectual plane than one’s own.</p>
<div class="sidenote">Yet polish alone often succeeds.</div>
<p>At the same time, many young men “with nothing in them” are socially
successful, being possessed of those superficial qualities and that
outward polish which are, for the purposes of everyday intercourse, more
useful than abysmal personal depths. Was it Goethe or Schiller who said
that for domestic utility a farthing candle is more useful than all the
stars of heaven?</p>
<p>A light playfulness of fancy, combined with the gentleness that
carefully avoids wounding even the smallest, is a high recommendation in
society; but to be for ever laughing is wearisome in the extreme to the
spectators.</p>
<p>I make no apology for quoting here<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_143" id="page_143"></SPAN>{143}</span> the following passages from “Mr.
Brown’s Letters to a Young Man About Town” from a <i>Punch</i> of 1849. “Mr.
Brown” was Thackeray, I believe.</p>
<div class="sidenote">“Mr. Brown’s” advice.</div>
<p>He says:—</p>
<p>“I beseech and implore you to make a point of being intimate with one or
two families where you can see kind and well-bred English ladies. I have
seen women of all nations in the world, but I never saw the equals of
English women (meaning, of course, to include our cousins the
MacWhirters of Glasgow and the O’Tooles of Cork); and I pray sincerely,
my boy, that you may always have a woman for a friend.”</p>
<p class="ast">* * * *</p>
<p>“It is better for you to pass an evening once or twice a week in a
lady’s drawing-room, even though the conversation is rather slow and you
know the girl’s songs by heart, than in a club, tavern, or smoking-room,
or pit of a theatre.”</p>
<p class="ast">* * * *</p>
<p>“Remember, if a house is pleasant, and you like to remain in it, that to
be well with the women of the house is the great, the vital point. If it
is a good house, don’t turn up your nose because you are only asked to
come in the evening, while others are invited to dine. Recollect the
debts of dinners which<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_144" id="page_144"></SPAN>{144}</span> an hospitable family has to pay; who are you
that you should always be expecting to nestle under the mahogany?
Agreeable acquaintances are made just as well in the drawing-room as in
the dining-room. Go to tea brisk and good-humoured. Be determined to be
pleased. Talk to a dowager. Take a hand at whist. If you are musical,
and know a song, sing it like a man. Never sulk about dancing, but off
with you. You will find your acquaintance enlarge. Mothers, pleased with
your good humour, will probably ask you to Pocklington Square, to a
little party. You will get on—you will form yourself a circle. You may
marry a rich girl, or, at any rate, get the chance of seeing a number of
the kind and the pretty.”</p>
<p class="ast">* * * *</p>
<p>“The dressing, the clean gloves, and cab-hire, are nuisances, I grant
you. The idea of the party itself is a bore, but you must go. When you
are at the party, it is not so stupid; there is always something
pleasant for the eye and attention of an observant man.”<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_145" id="page_145"></SPAN>{145}</span></p>
<div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />