From The Gentleman’s Book Of Etiquette, and Manual
Of Politeness – True to text.
CONVERSATION.
In their
place, in circles which have met for such discussions, in a tête à tête
conversation, in a small party of gentlemen where each is ready courteously to
listen to the others, politics may be discussed with perfect propriety, but in
the drawing-room, at the dinner-table, or in the society of ladies, these
topics are best avoided.
If you are
drawn into such a discussion without intending to be so, be careful that your
individual opinion does not lead you into language and actions unbecoming a
gentleman. Listen courteously to those whose opinions do not agree with yours,
and keep your temper. A man in a passion ceases to be a gentleman.
Even if
convinced that your opponent is utterly wrong, yield gracefully, decline
further discussion, or dextrously turn the conversation, but do not obstinately
defend your own opinion until you become angry, or more excited than is
becoming to a gentleman.
Many there
are who, giving their opinion, not as an opinion but as a law,
will defend their position by such phrases, as: “Well, if I were
president, or governor, I would,” &c.—and while by the warmth of their
argument they prove that they are utterly unable to govern their own temper,
they will endeavor to persuade you that they are perfectly competent to take
charge of the government of the nation.
Retain, if
you will, a fixed political opinion, yet do not parade it upon all occasions,
and, above all, do not endeavor to force others to agree with you. Listen
calmly to their ideas upon the same subjects, and if you cannot agree, differ
politely, and while your opponent may set you down as a bad politician, let him
be obliged to admit that you are a gentleman.
Wit and
vivacity are two highly important ingredients in the conversation of a man in
polite society, yet
a straining for effect, or forced wit, is in excessively
bad taste. There is no one more insupportable in society than the everlasting
talkers who scatter puns, witticisms, and jokes with so profuse a hand that
they become as tiresome as a comic newspaper, and whose loud laugh at their own
wit drowns other voices which might speak matter more interesting. The really
witty man does not shower forth his wit so indiscriminately; his charm consists
in wielding his powerful weapon delicately and easily, and making each highly
polished witticism come in the right place and moment to be effectual. While
real wit is a most delightful gift, and its use a most charming accomplishment,
it is, like many other bright weapons, dangerous to use too often. You may
wound where you meant only to amuse, and remarks which you mean only in for
general applications, may be construed into personal affronts, so, if you have
the gift, use it wisely, and not too freely.
The most
important requisite for a good conversational power is education, and, by this
is meant, not merely the matter you may store in your memory from observation
or books, though this is of vast importance, but it also includes the
developing of the mental powers, and, above all, the comprehension. An English
writer says, “A man should be able, in order to enter into conversation, to
catch rapidly the meaning of anything that is advanced; for instance, though
you know nothing of science, you should not be obliged to stare and be silent,
when a man who does understand it is explaining a new discovery or a new
theory; though you have not read a word of Blackstone, your comprehensive
powers should be sufficiently acute to enable you to take in the statement that
may be made of a recent cause; though you may not have read some particular
book, you should be capable of appreciating the criticism which you hear of it.
Without such power—simple enough, and easily attained by attention and
practice, yet too seldom met with in general society—a conversation which
departs from the most ordinary topics cannot be maintained without the risk of
lapsing into a lecture; with such power, society becomes instructive as well as
amusing, and you have no remorse at an evening’s end at having wasted three or
four hours in profitless banter, or simpering platitudes. This facility of
comprehension often startles us in some women, whose education we know to have
been poor, and whose reading is limited. If they did not rapidly receive your
ideas, they could not, therefore, be fit companions for intellectual men, and
it is, perhaps, their consciousness of a deficiency which leads them to pay the
more attention to what you say. It is this which makes married women so much
more agreeable to men of thought than young ladies, as a rule, can be, for they
are accustomed to the society of a husband, and the effort to be a companion to
his mind has engrafted the habit of attention and ready reply.”
The same
author says: “No less important is the cultivation of taste. If it is tiresome
and deadening to be with people who cannot understand, and will not even appear
to be interested in your better thoughts, it is almost repulsive to find a man
insensible to all beauty, and immovable by any horror.
“So too, you
should know pretty accurately the pronunciation of celebrated names, or, if
not, take care not to use them. It will never do to be ignorant of the names
and approximate ages of great composers, especially in large cities, where
music is so highly appreciated and so common a theme. It will be decidedly
condemnatory if you talk of the new opera ‘Don Giovanni,’ or Rossini’s
‘Trovatore,’ or are ignorant who composed ‘Fidelio,’ and in what opera occur
such common pieces as ‘Ciascun lo dice,’ or ‘Il segreto.’ I do
not say that these trifles are indispensable, and when a man has better knowledge
to offer, especially with genius or ‘cleverness’ to back it, he will not only
be pardoned for an ignorance of them, but can even take a high tone, and
profess indifference or contempt of them. But, at the same time, such ignorance
stamps an ordinary man, and hinders conversation. On the other hand the best
society will not endure dilettantism, and, whatever the knowledge a man may
possess of any art, he must not display it so as to make the ignorance of
others painful to them. But this applies to every topic. To have only one or
two subjects to converse on, and to discourse rather than talk on them, is
always ill-bred, whether the theme be literature or horseflesh. The gentleman
jockey will probably denounce the former as a ‘bore,’ and call us pedants for
dwelling on it; but if, as is too often the case, he can give us nothing more
general than the discussion of the ‘points’ of a horse that, perhaps, we have
never seen, he is as great a pedant in his way.
“Reason
plays a less conspicuous part in good society because its frequenters are too
reasonable to be mere reasoners. A disputation is always dangerous to temper,
and tedious to those who cannot feel as eager as the disputants; a discussion,
on the other hand, in which every body has a chance of stating amicably and
unobtrusively his or her opinion, must be of frequent occurrence. But to
cultivate the reason, besides its high moral value, has the advantage of
enabling one to reply as well as attend to the opinions of others. Nothing is
more tedious or disheartening than a perpetual, ‘Yes, just so,’ and nothing
more. Conversation must never be one-sided. Then, again, the reason enables us
to support a fancy or an opinion, when we are asked why we think so. To
reply, ‘I don’t know, but still I think so,’ is silly and tedious.
“But there
is a part of our education so important and so neglected in our schools and
colleges, that it cannot be too highly impressed on the young man who proposes
to enter society. I mean that which we learn first of all things, yet often
have not learned fully when death eases us of the necessity—the art of speaking
our own language. What can Greek and Latin, French and German be for us in our
every-day life, if we have not acquired this? We are often encouraged to raise
a laugh at Doctor Syntax and the tyranny of Grammar, but we may be certain that
more misunderstandings, and, therefore, more difficulties arise between men in
the commonest intercourse from a want of grammatical precision than from any
other cause. It was once the fashion to neglect grammar, as it now is with
certain people to write illegibly, and, in the days of Goethe, a man thought
himself a genius if he could spell badly.
“Precision
and accuracy must begin in the very outset; and if we neglect them in grammar,
we shall scarcely acquire them in expressing our thoughts. But since there is
no society without interchange of thought, and since the best society is that
in which the best thoughts are interchanged in the best and most comprehensible
manner, it follows that a proper mode of expressing ourselves is indispensable
in good society.
“The art of
expressing one’s thoughts neatly and suitably is one which, in the neglect of
rhetoric as a
study, we must practice for ourselves. The commonest thought well
put is more useful in a social point of view, than the most brilliant idea
jumbled out. What is well expressed is easily seized, and therefore readily
responded to; the most poetic fancy may be lost to the hearer, if the language
which conveys it is obscure. Speech is the gift which distinguishes man from
animals, and makes society possible. He has but a poor appreciation of his high
privilege as a human being, who neglects to cultivate, ‘God’s great gift of
speech.’
“As I am not
writing for men of genius, but for ordinary beings, I am right to state that an
indispensable part of education is a knowledge of the literature of the English
language. But how to read, is, for society more important than what
we read. The man who takes up nothing but a newspaper, but reads it to think,
to deduct conclusions from its premises, and form a judgment on its opinions,
is more fitted for society than he, who having all the current literature and
devoting his whole time to its perusal, swallows it all without digestion. In
fact, the mind must be treated like the body, and however great its appetite,
it will soon fall into bad health if it gorges, but does not ruminate. At the
same time an acquaintance with the best current literature is necessary to
modern society, and it is not sufficient to have read a book without being able
to pass a judgment upon it. Conversation on literature is impossible, when your
respondent can only say, ‘Yes. I like the book, but I really don’t know why.’
“An
acquaintance with old English literature is not perhaps indispensable, but it
gives a man great advantage in all kinds of society, and in some he is at a
constant loss without it. The same may be said of foreign literature, which in
the present day is almost as much discussed as our own; but, on the other hand,
an acquaintance with home and foreign politics, with current history, and
subjects of passing interest, is absolutely necessary; and a person of
sufficient intelligence to join in good society, cannot dispense with his daily
newspaper, his literary journal, and the principal reviews and magazines. The
cheapness of every kind of literature, the facilities of our well stored
circulating libraries, our public reading rooms, and numerous excellent
lectures on every possible subject, leave no excuse to poor or rich for an
ignorance of any of the topics discussed in intellectual society. You may
forget your Latin, Greek, French, German, and Mathematics, but if you frequent
good company, you will never be allowed to forget that you are a citizen of the
world.”
A man of
real intelligence and cultivated mind, is generally modest. He may feel when in
every day society, that in intellectual acquirements he is above those around
him; but he will not seek to make his companions feel their inferiority, nor
try to display this advantage over them. He will discuss with frank simplicity
the topics started by others, and endeavor to avoid starting such as they will
not feel inclined to discuss. All that he says will be marked by politeness and
deference to the feelings and opinions of others.
La Bruyere
says, “The great charm of conversation consists less in the display of one’s
own wit and intelligence, than in the power to draw forth the resources of
others; he who leaves you after a long conversation, pleased with himself and
the part he has taken in the discourse, will be your warmest admirer. Men do
not care to admire you, they wish you to be pleased with them; they do not seek
for instruction or even amusement from your discourse, but they do wish you to
be made acquainted with their talents and powers of conversation; and the true
man of genius will delicately make all who come in contact with him, feel the
exquisite satisfaction of knowing that they have appeared to advantage.”
Having
admitted the above to be an incontestable fact, you will also see that it is as
great an accomplishment to listen with an air of interest and attention, as it
is to speak well.
To be a good
listener is as indispensable as to be a good talker, and it is in the character
of listener that you can most readily detect the man who is accustomed to good
society. Nothing is more embarrassing to any one who is speaking, than to
perceive signs of weariness or inattention in the person whom he addresses.
It is
ill-bred to put on an air of weariness during a long speech from another
person, and quite as rude to look at a watch, read a letter, flirt the leaves
of a book, or in any other action show that you are tired of the speaker or his
subject.
In a general
conversation, never speak when another person is speaking, and never try by
raising your own voice to drown that of another. Never assume an air of
haughtiness, or speak in a dictatorial manner; let your conversation be always
amiable and frank, free from every affectation.
Put yourself
on the same level as the person to whom you speak, and under penalty of being
considered a pedantic idiot, refraining from explaining any expression or word
that you may use.
Never,
unless you are requested to do so, speak of your own business or profession in
society; to confine your conversation entirely to the subject or pursuit which
is your own speciality is low-bred and vulgar.
Make the
subject for conversation suit the company in which you are placed. Joyous,
light conversation will be at times as much out of place, as a sermon would be
at a dancing party. Let your conversation be grave or gay as suits the time or
place.
In a dispute,
if you cannot reconcile the parties, withdraw from them. You will surely make
one enemy, perhaps two, by taking either side, in an argument when the speakers
have lost their temper.
Never
gesticulate in every day conversation, unless you wish to be mistaken for a
fifth rate comedian.
Never ask
any one who is conversing with you to repeat his words. Nothing is ruder than
to say, “Pardon me, will you repeat that sentence—I did not hear you at first,”
and thus imply that your attention was wandering when he first spoke.
Never,
during a general conversation, endeavor to concentrate the attention wholly
upon yourself. It is quite as rude to enter into conversation with one of a
group, and endeavor to draw him out of the circle of general conversation to
talk with you alone.
Never listen
to the conversation of two persons who have thus withdrawn from a group. If
they are so near you that you cannot avoid hearing them, you may, with perfect
propriety, change your seat.
Make your
own share in conversation as modest and brief as is consistent with the subject
under consideration, and avoid long speeches and tedious stories. If, however,
another, particularly an old man, tells a long story, or one that is not new to
you, listen respectfully until he has finished, before you speak again.
Speak of
yourself but little. Your friends will find out your virtues without forcing
you to tell them, and you may feel confident that it is equally unnecessary to
expose your faults yourself.
If you
submit to flattery, you must also submit to the imputation of folly and
self-conceit.
In speaking
of your friends, do not compare them, one with another. Speak of the merits of
each one, but do not try to heighten the virtues of one by contrasting them
with the vices of another.
No matter
how absurd are the anecdotes that may be told in your presence, you must never
give any sign of incredulity. They may be true; and even if false, good
breeding forces you to hear them with polite attention, and the appearance of
belief. To show by word or sign any token of incredulity, is to give the lie to
the narrator, and that is an unpardonable insult.
Avoid, in
conversation all subjects which can injure the absent. A gentleman will never
calumniate or listen to calumny.
Need I say
that no gentleman will ever soil his mouth with an oath. Above all, to swear in
a drawing-room or before ladies is not only indelicate and vulgar in the
extreme, but evinces a shocking ignorance of the rules of polite society and
good breeding.
For a long
time the world has adopted a certain form of speech which is used in good
society, and
which changing often, is yet one of the distinctive marks of a
gentleman. A word or even a phrase which has been used among the most refined
circles, will, sometimes, by a sudden freak of fashion, from being caricatured
in a farce or song, or from some other cause, go entirely out of use. Nothing
but habitual intercourse with people of refinement and education, and mingling
in general society, will teach a gentleman what words to use and what to avoid.
Yet there are some words which are now entirely out of place in a parlor.
Avoid a
declamatory style; some men, before speaking, will wave their hands as if
commanding silence, and, having succeeded in obtaining the attention of the
company, will speak in a tone, and style, perfectly suitable for the theatre or
lecture room, but entirely out of place in a parlor. Such men entirely defeat
the object of society, for they resent interruption, and, as their talk flows
in a constant stream, no one else can speak without interrupting the pompous
idiot who thus endeavors to engross the entire attention of the circle around
him.
This
character will be met with constantly, and generally joins to the other
disagreeable traits an egotism as tiresome as it is ill-bred.
The wittiest
man becomes tedious and ill-bred when he endeavors to engross entirely the
attention of the company in which he should take a more modest part.
Avoid set phrases,
and use quotations but rarely. They sometimes make a very piquant addition to
conversation, but when they become a constant habit, they are exceedingly
tedious, and in bad taste.
Avoid
pedantry; it is a mark, not of intelligence, but stupidity.
Speak your
own language correctly; at the same time do not be too great a stickler for
formal correctness of phrases.
Never notice
it if others make mistakes in language. To notice by word or look such errors
in those around you, is excessively ill-bred.
Vulgar
language and slang, though in common, unfortunately too common use, are
unbecoming in any one who pretends to be a gentleman. Many of the words heard
now in the parlor and drawing-room, derive their origin from sources which a
gentleman would hesitate to mention before ladies, yet he will make daily use
of the offensive word or phrase.
If you are a
professional or scientific man, avoid the use of technical terms. They are in
bad taste, because many will not understand them. If, however, you unconsciously
use such a term or phrase, do not then commit the still greater error of
explaining its meaning. No one will thank you for thus implying their
ignorance.
In
conversing with a foreigner who speaks imperfect English, listen with strict
attention, yet do not supply a word, or phrase, if he hesitates. Above all, do
not by a word or gesture show impatience if he makes pauses or blunders. If you
understand his language, say so when you first speak to him; this is not making
a display of your own knowledge, but is a kindness, as a foreigner will be
pleased to hear and speak his own language when in a strange country.
Be careful
in society never to play the part of buffoon, for you will soon become known as
the “funny” man of the party, and no character is so perilous to your dignity
as a gentleman. You lay yourself open to both censure and ridicule, and you may
feel sure that, for every person who laughs with you, two are laughing at you,
and for one who admires you, two will watch your antics with secret contempt.
Avoid
boasting. To speak of your money, connections, or the luxuries at your command
is in very bad taste. It is quite as ill-bred to boast of your intimacy with
distinguished people. If their names occur naturally in the course of
conversation, it is very well; but to be constantly quoting, “my friend, Gov.
C——,” or “my intimate friend, the president,” is pompous and in bad taste.
While
refusing the part of jester yourself, do not, by stiff manners, or cold,
contemptuous looks, endeavor to check the innocent mirth of others. It is in
excessively bad taste to drag in a grave subject of conversation when pleasant,
bantering talk is going on around you. Join in pleasantly and forget your
graver thoughts for the time, and you will win more popularity than if you
chill the merry circle or turn their innocent gayety to grave discussions.
When thrown
into the society of literary people, do not question them about their works. To
speak in terms of admiration of any work to the author is in bad taste; but you
may give pleasure, if, by a quotation from their writings, or a happy reference
to them, you prove that you have read and appreciated them.
It is
extremely rude and pedantic, when engaged in general conversation, to make
quotations in a foreign language.
To use
phrases which admit of a double meaning, is ungentlemanly, and, if addressed to
a lady, they become positively insulting.
If you find
you are becoming angry in a conversation, either turn to another subject or
keep silence. You may utter, in the heat of passion, words which you would
never use in a calmer moment, and which you would bitterly repent when they
were once said.
“Never talk
of ropes to a man whose father was hanged” is a vulgar but popular proverb.
Avoid carefully subjects which may be construed into personalities, and keep a
strict reserve upon family matters. Avoid, if you can, seeing the skeleton in
your friend’s closet, but if it is paraded for your special benefit, regard it
as a sacred confidence, and never betray your knowledge to a third party.
If you have
traveled, although you will endeavor to improve your mind in such travel, do
not be constantly speaking of your journeyings. Nothing is more tiresome than a
man who commences every phrase with, “When I was in Paris,” or, “In Italy I
saw——.”
When asking
questions about persons who are not known to you, in a drawing-room, avoid
using adjectives; or you may enquire of a mother, “Who is that awkward, ugly
girl?” and be answered, “Sir, that is my daughter.”
Avoid
gossip; in a woman it is detestable, but in a man it is utterly despicable.
Do not
officiously offer assistance or advice in general society. Nobody will thank
you for it.
Ridicule and
practical joking are both marks of a vulgar mind and low breeding.
Avoid
flattery. A delicate compliment is permissible in conversation, but flattery is
broad, coarse, and to sensible people, disgusting. If you flatter your
superiors, they will distrust you, thinking you have some selfish end; if you
flatter ladies, they will despise you, thinking you have no other conversation.
A lady of
sense will feel more complimented if you converse with her upon instructive,
high subjects, than if you address to her only the language of compliment. In
the latter case she will conclude that you consider her incapable of discussing
higher subjects, and you cannot expect her to be pleased at being considered
merely a silly, vain person, who must be flattered into good humor.
Avoid the
evil of giving utterance to inflated expressions and remarks in common
conversation.
It is a
somewhat ungrateful task to tell those who would shrink from the imputation of
a falsehood that they are in the daily habit of uttering untruths; and yet, if
I proceed, no other course than this can be taken by me. It is of no use to
adopt half measures; plain speaking saves a deal of trouble.
The examples
about to be given by me of exaggerated expressions, are only a few of the many
that are constantly in use. Whether you can acquit yourselves of the charge of
occasionally using them, I cannot tell; but I dare not affirm for myself that I
am altogether guiltless.
“I was
caught in the wet last night, the rain came down in torrents.” Most of us have
been out in heavy rains; but a torrent of water pouring down from the skies
would a little surprise us, after all.
“I am wet to
the skin, and have not a dry thread upon me.” Where these expressions are once
used correctly, they are used twenty times in opposition to the truth.
“I tried to
overtake him, but in vain; for he ran like lightning.” The celebrated racehorse
Eclipse is said to have run a mile in a minute, but poor Eclipse is left sadly
behind by this expression.
“He kept me
standing out in the cold so long, I thought I should have waited for ever.”
There is not a particle of probability that such a thought could have been for
one moment entertained.
“As I came
across the common, the wind was as keen as a razor.” This is certainly a very
keen remark, but the worst of it is that its keenness far exceeds its
correctness.
“I went to
the meeting, but had hard work to get in; for the place was crowded to
suffocation.” In this case, in justice to the veracity of the relater, it is
necessary to suppose that successful means had been used for his recovery.
“It must
have been a fine sight; I would have given the world to have seen it.” Fond as
most of us are of sight-seeing, this would be buying pleasure at a dear price
indeed; but it is an easy thing to proffer to part with that which we do not
possess.
“It made me
quite low spirited; my heart felt as heavy as lead.” We most of us know what a
heavy heart is; but lead is by no means the most correct metaphor to use in speaking
of a heavy heart.
“I could
hardly find my way, for the night was as dark as pitch.” I am afraid we have
all in our turn calumniated the sky in this manner; pitch is many shades darker
than the darkest night we have ever known.
“I have told
him of that fault fifty times over.” Five times would, in all probability, be
much nearer the fact than fifty.
“I never
closed my eyes all night long.” If this be true, you acted unwisely; for had
you closed your eyes, you might, perhaps, have fallen asleep, and enjoyed the
blessing of refreshing slumber; if it be not true, you acted more unwisely
still, by stating that as a fact which is altogether untrue.
“He is as
tall as a church-spire.” I have met with some tall fellows in my time, though
the spire of a church is somewhat taller than the tallest of them.
“You may buy
a fish at the market as big as a jackass, for five shillings.” I certainly have
my doubts about this matter; but if it be really true, the market people must
be jackasses indeed to sell such large fishes for so little money.
“He was so
fat he could hardly come in at the door.” Most likely the difficulty here
alluded to was never felt by any one but the relater; supposing it to be
otherwise, the man must have been very broad or the door very narrow.
“You don’t
say so!—why, it was enough to kill him!” The fact that it did not kill him is a
sufficient reply to this unfounded observation; but no remark can be too absurd
for an unbridled tongue.
Thus might I
run on for an hour, and after all leave much unsaid on the subject of
exaggerated expressions. We are hearing continually the comparisons, “black as
soot, white as snow, hot as fire, cold as ice, sharp as a needle, dull as a
door-nail, light as a feather, heavy as lead, stiff as a poker, and crooked as
a crab-tree,” in cases where such expressions are quite out of order.
The practice
of expressing ourselves in this inflated and thoughtless way, is more
mischievous than we are aware of. It certainly leads us to sacrifice truth; to
misrepresent what we mean faithfully to describe; to whiten our own characters,
and sometimes to blacken the reputation of a neighbor. There is an uprightness
in speech as well as in action, that we ought to strive hard to attain. The
purity of truth is sullied, and the standard of integrity is lowered, by
incorrect observations. Let us reflect upon this matter freely and faithfully.
Let us love truth, follow truth, and practice truth in our thoughts, our words,
and our deeds.
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