CIVILITY.

Otago Daily Times, Issue 176, 9 June 1862, Page 5

CIVILITY.

(From the Saturday Review.)

A description of the various modes of civility obtaining in various countries, though not pre-

c.isaly edifying, would at lea.it be entertaining. In China, the civilest thing you can do for a sick friend or neighbour is to daacrilw to him iv glowing colours the hcvuifcy of the coJlin which, to save time, has blr-.n already constructed and is ready for hi.s reception. In North America, Mr.- Catlin was deeply flattered, but sorely distressed, by the courtosy of an Indian who insisted that he should make use of him as a pillow whenever he retired for" the night. An English naval officer once dined by special invitation with a Turkish pacha. Towards the close of the repast, the pacha, eyeing him all the time with a look of extreme benevo lonce, dipped his fingers into a variety of dishes, extracted a morsel from each, nnd with the aid of v little rice, gently amalgamated the whole between the palms of his hands. Then, iv a fervour of triumphant hospitality, the Turk suddenly introduced the delicate rissole into the mouth of the agonized guest, and blandly awaited his grateful acknowledgements. Passing to civilized communities, French politeness used to be more thought of than it is now ; but one thing must be conceded—when a Frenchman is civil,. his civility is irresistable. It has a charm which leaves behind it a lingering sweetness—a vague agreeable persuasion that the civility shown to. you was occasioned by your own amiable qualities. In an amusing, little sketch of a Frenchman's visit to London, published several years since, the disadvantages of over-politeness are forcibly described. The Frenchman complains that he was. treated with marked incivility in the London shops, though he politely lifted his hat on entering, and made repeated bows in his best manner to the people behind the counter. Again, on calling with a letter of introduction at a nobleman's mansion, he deferentially gave a single rap at the door, and bowed low to the powdered lacquey who made his appearance after long del!s'. But his letter was rudely tossed, back to him, and the strest door violently slammed in his face. An English friend of course puts all this to rights, and explains to the discomfited foreigner that an air of decision and a tone of authority make a favorable impression on English tradesmen, and that a determined rap at the door, follOived by a scrupulous avoidance of all approach to politeness, checks any lurking impertinence in the breast of a British flunkey. Wo suspect, indeed, that the majority of Englishmen measure a man by his own standard. They take you, as it were, at your word, and not think highly of you unless you seem to think highly of yourself. Insolent swagger aud self-conceit will not of course go down, but a certain flavour of sober self-esteem has a wonderful effect upon .the general public. If you arc deferential, it is probable that a stranger will condemn you as a humbug. If you are retiring and modest, many will consider you effeminate and sneaking. One maxim is usually a safe one. In asking a question, avoid timid hesitation of manner, and speak as if a clause in a iecent Act of Parliament had invested you with some special prerogative— otherwise you will probably get a rude answer or none at all*. The tradesman will nervously lock his till, the policeman will eye you' suspiciously, the railway porter will pretend not to hear you, or take you for a third-class passenger.

Ar a rule, and speaking of the mass of .the population, the Soutii of England is more civil than the North. The laboring classes iv Southern agricultural districts are pleasanter to deal with than they are in tiie North. The state of the labor market partly explains this. Laborers in the South are more numerous, and therefore worse paid. This renders them dependent on those better off than themselves, and puts them on their good behaviour. Setting aside outward cireur ■ stances, the manners of the people are ruder t' c farther you travel northwards. Take the case of excursionists. English excursionists are generally harmless enough. They do not make themselves more disagreeable than they can help. In Scotland, holiday folk are.more rough and reckless. We have seen'some hundreds of excursionists who had chartered a steamer, moor her as close as practicable to a little island in the Frith of Forth, and there, ■ in" full view of a party of ladies, strip off their clothes, jump into the water on the near side of the steamer, and disport themselves with arl enjoyment evidently enhanced by the sense of annoyance inflicted on the women on shore. Again, in London, a cabman on the whole has no particular desire to drive over foot-passengers. In Edinburgh, one of a cabman's recognised amusements appears to consist in endeavoring to smash any man, woman, or child that chances to be crossing the street. In English towns, commonplace civility is general amongst the working classes. Frequently it is enlivened by a touch of humor. " Let us have no vulgar row !'" exclaimed a cabman to an indignant friend of ours who prided himself on .knowing every fare in London, and was loudly protesting against an overcharge. -'Letushave no vulgar row!" . What could our friend do ? The cabman had placed him in an inferior position. There was nothing for him but to succumb with a good j grace, and pay the fare demanded: ' There is one advantage of politeness. It. gives additional point to a sarcasm or a sneer. A right reverend divine, much versed in controversy, has well said that "a httle oil makes the knife cut more keenly." Cardinal Fleury, eighty years of age, frankly told the Abbe de Bemis that.he should never have any preferment in his lifetime. " Monseigneur," politely rejoined the Abbe,

•j'.ittondrai.o A pleasant oonatorpart to this delicate homo-thrust is Sir Walto Scott's story, of tlia Iris'i boatman— '■ Well, there's six-pencb "for you, Paddy, but mind, you are to pay ma again I" —" May yoar honor live till you got'it 1"

But, after all, what is genuine civility ? It is something better than good breeding. Good breeding, or msro superficial politeness, is consistent with the meanest selfishness. It is negative rather than active—careful not to give offence, but often slow to take trouble—content not to cause annoyance, but" not necessarily auxious to impart pleasure. Rochefoucauld says that "La civilite est un desir d'en rccevoir ct d'etre cstime poli." But this is counterfeit civility—a garment worn because we think it becoming—a piece of p.cting performed because it is in vogue, or because .it makes the wheels of society run smoothly, or because we hope it may do us some good. A well-bred man will certainly conduct himself with propriety. He will not snatch from your expectant hand the glass of pale ale presented to you—exclaiming, with Trulliber, " I called vurst J " Neither will he talk across you at the dinner table to a friend on the other side of you, in loud and voluble accents. Nor, if he directs his conversation to yourself, will lie allude to topics notoriously disagreeable—such as your recent expulsion from Parliament on a charge of electioneering bribery—the bankruptcy of your uncle—the singular marriage of your grandmother—the peculiar cut of your coat, and your increasing corpulency. He will abstain from annoying others because ho does not wish to be annoyed himself. He will make himself tolerably agreeable because it i 3 good policy, and because it is en regie.

" Good heavens 1" exclaims Lord Chesterfield to his hopeful son, " how I should he shocked if you came into my room with two left legs, presenting yourself with all the graces and dignity of a tailor, and your clothes hanging about jou, like those in Monmouth-street, upon tenter-hooks I Whereas I expect, nay require, to see you present yourself with the easy and genteel air of a man of fashion who has kept good company. I expect a gracefulness in all your motions, and something particularly engaging in your address. All this I expect. .... but to tell you the plain truth, if I do not find it," we shall not converse milch together ; for I cannot stand inattention and -awkwardness;, it would endanger my health." However, to do his lordship justice, his notions of politeness went further than mere manners. His morality soared as high as the nrt of pleasing. But then it was always for a purpose. " Make your court particularly to such men and women as are highest iv the fashion and in tho opinion of the'public; speak 'advantageously of them behind their backs, in companies who you will have reason to believe will tell them again." " Tho art of pleasing is in truth the art of rising, of distinguishing oneself, of making "a figure and a fortune in the world" " Labor this great point, my dear child, indefatigably," &c , &c., &c. In short, the civility recommended was little else than a commercial investment—a business-like outlay for a Strictly selfish purpose. Of course a well-bred man may be often disinterestedly civil, but so may a vulgar man. The vulgar man is frequently the more civil man of the two. He may ignore the letter h. He may use his knife at meals in a way to make your flesh creep. He may insist upon taking oil" his gloves to shaks hands in the middle of a crowded thoroughfare on a winter's day, though the operation occupies five minutes and you aro cut in two by the east wind. The vulgar man may wink confidentially on the. smallest provocation—poke 3'ou in the ribs with affectionate familiarity—-make playful grimaces .i to give point to a humorous anecdote, and create us much discomfiture iv a correct circle as a gorilla or a maniac. But, though obnoxious to everybody, the man may mean to be civil, and fails only because he is out' of his clement. His J desire to please is as genuine as that of the well- i inlentioncd donkey who followed the Jap-dog's example, and tried to jump upon his master's knees. > Give him a fair opportunity and suitable sphere of action, and possibly he may conquer your prejudices, and reconcile you to his defects. The conventionally civil man will 'not trouble himself to walk two streets out of his way to direct a stranger into the right road ; nor will he vacate his seat at a closely-packed church or theatre to give ten minutes' rest to an unhappy man who has been standing beside him, first on one leg, then on the other, for the last hour and a quarter; nor will he make one jot more haste over the newspaper at his club, though he perceives three anxious individuals eyeing ifc as keenly—" as careful robins eye the delver's toil." But an underbred man often does all this and more. His civility may not bo on the surface, yet it is not the less real. It is not a matter of conventionalism, but something deeper, springing from the heart rather than from mere deference to social laws or customs.

We think it is the authoress of English Hearts and English Hands, who describes a rough uneducated "navvie" stretched helpless on his bad, having been crushed by a railway train, yet troubled most of all by the thought that there are no chairs in his wretched garret to offer t6 the two l:\dies who came to visit him. Perhaps the consideration shown to women in moments of great peril, such as shipwrecks, is partly due to a habit of generous courtesy that has grown up insensibly and become an element of good in minds naturally hard and selfish. Of civility to women—not because they are young and pretty, but simply because they are women—Charles Lamb discourses eloquently, and gives a notable example in the* shape of "Joseph Paice of. Bread-street-, merchant, aud Director of the South Sea Company." g I have seen him-—nay, smile not—tenderly escorting a marketwoman whom he had encountered in Ja shower, exalting his umbrella over her poor basket of fruit that it might receive no damage, with as much carefulness as if she had been a countess. To the reverend form of Female Eld he would yield the wall—though it were to an ancient beggarwoman—with more ceremony that we can afford to show our grandams. He was the Preux Chevalier of age ; the Sir Calidore or Sir Tristan to those who have no Calidores or Tristans to defend them. The roses that had long since faded thence" still bloomed for him in those withered and yellow cheeks." Gallantry of this ideal type has sometimes been substantially rewarded. Once upon a time, a curate of narrow income but kindly disposition perceived two elderly spinsters in old-fashioned costume, beset -*ith jeers and jibes by a mob of idle men and boys lounging round the church porch whilst the bell was ringing for service. Forcing his way through the crowd, the curate gave one old ' lady has right arm and the other his left, led them both into church, and escorted them politely up the middle aisle to a convenient pew, regardless of the stares and titters of the congregation. Some j'ears afterwards, the needy curate was agreeably surprised by the announcement that the two old ladies, having lately died, had bequeathed him a handsome fortune in recognition of his well-timed courtesy,

Civility costs nothing—so we have been duly I instructed from an early age; - but, however little civility .may cost us after the habit is ac- , quired, the "civility that has cost us nothing is of very little worth. For what is meant by civility? A soft voice and a deferential manner? A feeble readiness to yield in indifferent matters, and a reluctance to give offence or cause disturbance? Scarcely so. True civility implies some degree, however small, of selfsacrifice, and self-sacrifice certainly costs us something. No doubt there is such a thing as feeling pleasure in self-sacrifice—a pleasure keener than can be gained by self-seeking. But such a pleasure is itself an evidence of goodness, and must not be confounded with natural passion or instinct. It is the fruit of an habitual endeavour to act kindly by those with whom we have to do, and hfis reached maturity after many struggles and conflicts. Tims, whoever takes pleasure in civility lias generally something good in him; for the civility we mean is not a mere superficial politeness—" a candy'd deal of courtesy"—the indiscriminate fawning of a epaniel^-the grimace of an unctuous impostor— but a hearty'wish-to make others comfortable even at our own expense. Of course the wish may fail when the trial becomes severe. Civility does not necessarily imply a high degree of selfdenial. It indicates that the germ of it is there— capable of expansion,— and, so far'as it goes, is a virtuous and wholesome habit of the mind.