Part 8

XXXIII. I have availed myself many times of this resource at court; where I have made no scruple to declare, that I was born and bred in a small country town; and that I early entered myself a member of a religious order, whose principal care it was, to seclude its sons, and especially in their youth, from all commerce with the world. That my genius naturally disposed me to abhor bustle, and avoid great concourses of people; and excepting three years that I was a student at Salamanca, which may not improperly be termed three years of solitude, on account of the heads of our college not permitting their young members to have the least intercourse with secular people; I say excepting these three years, I have lived all the rest of my life, in Galicia and Asturias, which are provinces at a great distance from court; and besides all this, I have a natural dislike to studying ceremonies; but I am aware however, that not only the substance, but the forms of them also, are necessary to political society; although I do not consider that as an important form, which consists of rules that are established to-day, and changed to-morrow, just as whim and caprice dictate; some of which forms, or modes, prevail in one country, and are different in another; but I mean to speak of those forms or modes only, which reason dictates should be observed in all times, and in all places. From the before-named declaration, it may be easily conceived how little I understand of courtly ceremonies; notwithstanding which, with the assistance of the above frank confession, I never found myself the least embarrassed, and I perceived, nothing I said or did appeared disagreeable to those I conversed with, but that rather on the contrary, my natural behaviour seemed pleasing to them.

XXXIV. Men of sublime spirits and elevated understanding, possess a natural privilege to dispense with formalities whenever they think proper; just as musicians of great genius are allowed upon many occasions, to depart from the common rules of their art; their doing which, hardly ever renders the music ungrateful to the ear; so men who are endowed with great talents, and display a manifest superiority in conversation, may dispense with the ordinary and common methods of speaking, without ever offending the ears of their auditors. Natural advantages shine forth with a greater lustre, and are more solid, and more pleasing than borrowed acquisitions. Thus the world are well satisfied, to accept the first in the room of the last, and look upon themselves as over-paid for the loss of the one, by the introduction of the other in its stead.

XXXV. I was even about to say, that the establishment of ceremonies of urbanity, was only calculated for people of middling or inferior geniuses, and was meant as a succedaneum for a discretion so superior to that which the others we have mentioned possess, as to be capable of dictating of itself, the rule of deportment one man should observe to another. I believe it happens in this, with very little difference, the same that it happens in all material movements. There are men, who naturally and without any teaching, have a grace and air in all their actions, in the motions of their hands, and their feet, in the bending their bodies, and inclining their heads, in the casting downwards and lifting up their eyes, and in whom in every motion and gesture, all is done with such a native grace, that it enamours those who behold them; and is that sort of excellence, which is described by Tibullus to have been possessed by Sulpicia:

_Illam quid quid agit, quoquo vestigia flectit,_ _Componit furtim, subsequiturque decor._

I should consider it as very useless and unnecessary, to prescribe rules for the carriage and actions of such sort of people. Let precepts be kept for the use of those who are naturally aukward, and let them be tried to see whether by art, they can mend this defect of nature.

XXXVI. It is only with respect to two sorts of people, that no body is allowed to be exempt from observing ceremony, and they are princes and women. The first, from time immemorial, have instituted ceremonies as essential appendages to majesty. The second, from education and habit, have been taught, and accustomed to regard as the substance, what in reality is an accidental or visionary entity, and even to prefer this visionary or accidental entity, to the substance itself. Thus they are apt to disesteem the most discreet and agreeable man in the world, and to give the preference to one of much inferior talents, because he is well instructed in fashionable formalities, and is a strict observer of them. I except from this number, the women of superior abilities, who know as well as any body, how to distinguish, and do justice to true merit.

SECT. VII.

XXXVII. Whether this native grace is an integrant part of, or an ornament to that urbanity, which seasons and adorns men’s words and actions, it is certain, that study and art can never supply the defect of it.

XXXVIII. This is that sort of perfection, which Plutarch extols in Agesilaus, and by the help of which, he observes, that although he was but a little man, and his figure rather contemptible, he in his old age, appeared more amiable and engaging, than any of the handsome young fellows. _Dicitur autem pusillus fuisse, et specie aspernanda; cæterum hilaritas ejus omnibus horis, et urbanitas aliena ab omni, vel vocis, vel vultus morositate, et acerbitate, amabiliorem eum ad senectutem usque præbuit omnibus formosis._

XXXIX. This is that species of seasoning of which Quintilian speaks, when he says, that it makes the same sentence seem to come better from the mouth of one man than another: _Inest proprius quibusdam decor in habitu, atque vultu, ut eadem illa minus, dicente alio, videantur urbana esse._

XL. This is that kind of ornament, which Cicero called the colour, or blazon of urbanity, and instances Brutus, as one who was tinged with it in great perfection, but when he came to explain or describe this blazon, he defined it to have consisted of a mysterious _je ne scai quoi_. These are his words, taken from his dialogue _De claris Oratoribus: et Brutus, quis est, inquit, tandem urbanitatis color? Nescio, inquam, tantum esse quendam scio._ Which last expression, I am obliged to decipher by the sentence _Je ne scai quoi_, as I can find no other that is equivalent to it. This native grace, or if you please to call it by the figurative name Cicero has expressed it by, this colouring of urbanity, is composed of many particulars. For example, the neatness of the articulation, the good tone, and the harmonious flexibility of the voice, the graceful attitude of the body, the well regulated movements of the action, the amiable modesty of the carriage or manner, and the striking or lively expression of the eyes, are the parts, which constitute the whole of this grace.

XLI. It is easy to perceive, that all the before-mentioned are gifts of nature; which can never be acquired by study, or supplied by instruction. Many people have hoped to succeed, by attempting to imitate those, in whom these natural gifts are resplendent, or to speak more properly, are a part of their nature; but the very means they employ to give themselves a pleasing and agreeable air, cause them to appear ridiculous. That which is a grace in the original, has often an apish look in the copy. The imitation of natural endowments, seldom amounts to more, than a contemptible mock semblance of them. The affectation in these attempts is glaring and palpable, and all affectation is surfeiting.

XLII. I shall only state two limitations, or exceptions, to the possibility of acquiring those parts of gracefulness, which consist in the position of the body, and the motion of its members; and shall admit in the first place, that these may in some measure be acquired by imitation; but when? why when people do not think of acquiring them, and are not sensible that they do acquire them; that is in their infant state. It is then that nature is so pliant and flexible, that like soft wax, it may be easily molded to any shape, and made to receive any impression; and hence it is, that we frequently see children in their ordinary actions and motions, greatly resemble their parents.

XLIII. In Galicia where I was born, there are many people who understand Spanish perfectly well, who speak it in a drawling sort of a way, and by leaving out now and then a letter, are apt to lose the exact and proper pronunciation. Many have attributed this defect, to the imperfect organization of the tongues of the people of Galicia, produced by the influence of the climate; but it is no such thing, for this vicious pronunciation, is derived from the bad habit of speaking they contract in their infancy; and it is evident that it proceeds from thence, because many Galician children who have been carried from home when they were very young, and have been afterwards brought up and educated at Castile, some of whom I have seen, pronounce the Castilian language with as much clearness and readiness, as the natives of that province themselves. It is not many years ago, that there was a celebrated actress, who was born in a small village in Galicia, and who was carried to court by her uncle at four years old, and was there trained up to the stage, and who was greatly admired for her neat and ready pronunciation.

XLIV. The second limitation and exception I admit to the position I have advanced, is, that both a vicious pronunciation, and an aukwardness of motion and manner, may be greatly corrected and amended, even after people are grown to a state of maturity, and especially when these defects proceed from bad habits contracted in their youth. But in order to accomplish this, there is need of great perseverance and application. Even an inveterate bad habit, may be torn up by the roots by applying vast force and exertion to eradicate it; but when the fibres of the root, are inserted into the profundities of nature, all endeavours are vain.

SECT. VIII.

XLV. Although Urbanity, with respect to the most brilliant and beautiful parts of it, which we describe by the term gracefulness, as we have before observed, depends very little upon study or instruction, still in all its substantial and essential parts, it admits of precepts and rules; so that any man who has been taught, or has made himself acquainted with them, may perfectly understand in what this appearance of Urbanity consists.

XLVI. People very frequently, and in many ways offend against the laws of Urbanity; and I have seen those, who have had a reasonable good education, who have notwithstanding that, been frequently guilty of offending against the rules of good-breeding. All those imperfections, are the very reverse of Urbanity, which tend to make people disagreeable in their conversation, and when in company with other men troublesome or disgusting in their behaviour; and this explanation, suits well with the definition we at first gave of Urbanity. But which are these imperfections? To this I shall answer, that they are many, and that I will proceed to point some of the most striking ones out, which I apprehend will be the most instructive part of this essay, as enumerating the most glaring imperfections that tend to make people disagreeable and troublesome in conversation, will have the same effect, as prescribing rules that should be observed, to render their company pleasing and desirable to society. As I proceed, the reader may accompany me, and examine his political conscience as we go on, in order to discover whether any of the faults or failings I point out, are applicable to himself.

SECT. IX.

_Loquacity._

XLVII. I consider talkative people as a sort of tyrants of conversation; for according to my opinion, who admit of a limited species of reason in brutes, talking is a faculty more peculiar to man than reasoning; and engrossing all the conversation to a man’s self is a most arbitrary proceeding. He who is always desirous of being heard, and is impatient of attending to any one else, usurps a privilege to himself, which should be enjoyed in general by all mankind, as a prerogative proper to their being. But what fruit can be gathered from his torrent of words? None, except the tiring and disgusting his hearers may be called a fruit, who after they are rid of him, make amends for the silence he had imposed on them, by speaking of him with derision and contempt. No time is worse employed, than that which is consumed in hearing talkative people; who are generally men without discretion or reflection, for if they had any, they would be more reserved and keep within reasonable bounds, in order to avoid making themselves contemptible; and if they want reflection, they must want judgement also, and how can he who wants judgement talk with propriety? Or what benefit can result to those who listen to an extravagant prating man, except that of his affording them an opportunity for the meritorious exercise of their patience? Thus what Theocritus said of the verbose fluency of Anaximenes, may be applied to all talkative people; that he considered them as a luxuriant river of words, in the whole stock of whose waters, you could not find one drop of understanding: _Verborum flumen, mentis gutta._

XLVIII. What flows from such tongues, may be compared to vomitings of the soul; or to the sickly discharges from an unsound mind, which throws up before it has digested them, all the mental species or aliment it has received. They would have that pass for a faculty or power of explaining themselves, which in reality is nothing more than the want of a retentive faculty, or the power of keeping down what is in them. I would describe this malady, by calling it a relaxation of the rational faculty; whereas others might be apt to say, that is not the case, for the species are thrown up, for want of space to contain them in the part destined for their reception.

XLIX. Let no man plume himself too much, upon his being well attended to or applauded when he first begins to speak in public; for this may be a favourable tempting breeze, that may encourage him to loose the sails of loquacity; but although it may be a favourable and a tempting one, it may be a breeze of but short duration. Conversation is the food of the soul, but the cravings of the soul, are as various, as delicate, and as capricious as those of the body. The most noble diet persisted in for too long a time, becomes satiating, and loathsome. Thus the oratory of him, who for a certain space shall be listened to with pleasure by his hearers, may become tiresome to them after a while, and they would not attend to what he said, if he persisted in talking too long. The planets a man should consult the aspect of, to know when he should enter deep, or go but a little way into the gulph of conversation, are the eyes of his auditors; their pleasing serenity, or lowering appearances, should be the signs, that should either encourage him to spread all the sails of rhetoric and make great way; or else should warn him of the hazard and risque of proceeding any further, and that for the present it would be most prudent for him to lay-by, and wait a more safe and favourable opportunity to pursue his course.

L. But even these appearances may be fallacious and deceiving, and more especially to persons of high rank and authority; for the dependants of such, not only flatter them with their tongues, but with their eyes also. Why should I confine their adulation to the expressions of their tongues and their eyes, when they convert their whole bodies, and every limb and member of them, to instruments of delusion and flattery? for with certain fawning movements, and certain mysterious gestures of complaisance and admiration, they attend to and applaud all that is said or done by a man in power, on whom they are in any shape depending. He at the same time, big with his own cleverness, and his chops watering with approbation of himself, with the drivel running out at both corners of his mouth, vents his oratory, and talks whatever comes uppermost, be it good or bad, in a full persuasion, that the words of Apollo of Delphos were never listened to with more attention, or more respect. But, unhappy man, how do you deceive yourself! for you tire every body, and you disgust every body; and, the worst is, that those who had been just listening to you with such seeming applause, as soon as your back is turned, to relieve themselves from the pain the forced tribute of their adulation to you gave them, vent themselves in repeated bursts of laughter and derision at your folly. Great people may believe what I say, and be convinced that this is the way of the world; and they may also believe me when I tell them, that power in the hands of a weak man, only tends to make him appear more ridiculous; and that in the hands of a discreet one, if he is not extremely so, it tends in a great measure to cast a blemish on his understanding.

SECT. X.

_Lying._

LI. What can be more obnoxious to urbanity than lying? What man of understanding is there whom it does not offend? Or to whom is it not disgusting? and how can deceit cease to be injurious? All the utility, all the delight that can be obtained by conversation, is destroyed by a lie. If he, with whom I converse, tells me lies, of what service will the information I receive from him be to me? for if I do not believe him, all he says will only tend to irritate me; and if I do, to fill me with errors. If I am not assured he tells me truth, what satisfaction can I have in attending to him? For his conversation, so far from affording me entertainment or instruction, will set my mind on the rack, and cause me to waver, and continue in a painful state of doubt, and also perplex me, to find out reasons for believing or disbelieving what he has told me.

LII. Conversation is a species of traffic, in which mankind exchange informations and ideas with each other; and what better name can we give to him, than that of a cheat and a deceiver, who in this commerce, passes false informations and ideas for true ones; and ought we not also to treat him as a prevaricator, who is unworthy of being admitted into human society?

LIII. I have always been amazed at, and have always condemned, the indulgence and toleration that lying people find in the world. I have already exclaimed against this practice in my Essay on the Impurity of Lying, and must beg leave to refer the reader thither for a more full discussion of the point; but it has occurred to me since I wrote that Essay, that it is probable, this toleration may have arisen from the great extension of the vice of lying; and that the number of those who find themselves interested in this indulgence, is much greater, than that of those who find themselves injured by it; and that perhaps they tolerate lying in one another, because the toleration is necessary and useful to both parties. If the sincere part of the world consists of but few people, they cannot, without being guilty of great rashness, attempt to wage war against the many; but they at least may remonstrate, and with temper complain of the disgust they receive, from the indulgence that is shewn to lying. I ingenuously confess for myself, that I look upon him as a man of but little sincerity, who hears a lie with much seeming composure, and without expressing any signs of his dislike of it; although I must confess at the time I say this, that a frank manifestation of our dislike of the practice, cannot so easily be shewn, unless it is to our equals or our inferiors.

LIV. There is a species of lie, that passes in the world for humour and pleasantry, which I would punish as a crime. Whenever there happens to be a person in company who is noted for being an exceeding credulous man, it frequently happens, that some one or other tells a very incredible story, for the sake of exposing the easy faith of such a person, and of shewing, how apt he is to swallow absurdities and improbabilities for truth. This is received as a piece of wit, and all the by-standers laugh and applaud the ingenuity and invention of him who told the lie, and they all regale themselves at the expence of the innocent credulous person. But I consider this as an abuse; for does the simple and easy credulity of any person give others a right to insult him? admitting that his excessive credulity proceeds from the scantiness of his understanding; are we peradventure only obliged to be civil to, and treat with urbanity, the discreet and the acute? If God has blessed you with more talents than another man, would it not be an insolent abuse of them, if you made that person an object of your scorn, and played upon him, and treated him with the same derision and contempt that you would treat a monkey? Would this be using him like your neighbour? Or would it be applying your talents to the end and purpose, for which God was pleased to endow you with them?

LV. But the truth is, that excessive credulity proceeds more from goodness of heart, than from want of discretion. I have seen men who were very simple, and at the same time very penetrating. The same rectitude of heart, which excites a man of simplicity of manners to conduct himself without deceit, inclines him to think, that other people conduct themselves upon the same principle. It often happens, that a lie is believed by one person because he is an ingenuous man; and discredited by another, because he is a simpleton. The case is, that the first, excited by the goodness of his disposition, sets himself about finding out grounds of probability for what he has heard, and by his penetration discovers such. The other, who is only influenced by the dictates of his malice, never seeks after any such thing; and although he should seek after it, his stupidity would not permit him to discover it.

LVI. I don’t know whether the story that is commonly told of St. Thomas Aquinas, which is, that he was made to believe there was an ox that could fly, be true or not, as likewise what was said about his going out very anxious to see the spectacle; but this I know, that the rebuke which was couched in the answer he gave to those who attempted to put that affront on his credulity, is well worthy of a St. Thomas; I say worthy of that great repository of excellent virtues, both moral and intellectual, and worthy also the generosity of heart, and exalted prudence, of that sublime genius. The answer was as follows: _I could more easily be made to believe that there was an ox which could fly, than I could be made to believe, that mankind were capable of giving a lying relation of such a thing._ What reproof could be more discreet than this! and what energy and delicacy is there contained in it! I esteem this sentence more, than I do any of those which the ancient Grecians have recorded of their wise men. The sublimity of it persuades me, that it was the legitimate child of St. Thomas’s brain, and of course I can have no doubt, but the story we have related was true. Thus we see, the greatest discretion is not incompatible with, but may be easily reconciled to, and brought to unite with the greatest simplicity.

SECT. XI.

_Speakers of bold Truths._

LVII. As there are many people who behave with ill-breeding, from being addicted to relate falsehoods, so there are many others, who offend against the laws of urbanity by speaking ill-timed and uncivil truths. I mean to hint at those, who under pretence of undeceiving people, and of being their friends, out of time, and contrary to all the rules of decency, take the liberty of pointing out all their faults, and of speaking their opinion, both of them and their conduct. This is an act of barbarism, disguised under the veil of honest sincerity.