WHAT IS A GENTLEMAN?

Sun (Auckland), Volume III, Issue 849, 18 December 1929, Page 17

WHAT IS A GENTLEMAN?

One of the most famous definitions of a gentleman is this by Cardinal Newman. It is almost a definition of a gentleman to say he is one who never inflicts pain. This description is both refined and, as far as it goes, accurate. He is mainly occupied in merely removing the obstacles which hinder the free and unembarrassed action of those about him: and he concurs with their movements rather than takes the initiative himself. His benefits may be considered as parallel to what are called comforts or conveniences in arrangements of a personal nature: like an easy chair or a good fire, which do their part in dispelling cold and fatigue, though Nature provides both means of rest and animals heat without them. The true gentleman in like manner carefully avoids whatever may cause a jar or a jolt in the minds of those with whom he is cast: all clashing of opinion, or collision of. feeling, all restraint, or suspicion, or gloom, or resentment; his great concern being to make everyone at their ease and at home. He has his eyes on all his company: he is tender toward the bashful, gentle toward the distant, and merciful toward the absurd: he can recollect to whom he is speaking; he guards against unseasonable allusions, or topics which may irritate; he is seldom prominent in conversation, and never wearisome. He makes light of favours, and seems to be receiving when he is conferring. He never speaks of himself except when compelled, never defends himself by a mere retort, he has no ears for slander or gossip, Is scrupulous in imputing motives to those who interfere with him. He is never mean or little in his disputes, never takes unfair advantage, never mistakes personalities or sharp sayings for arguments, or insinuates evii which he dare not say out. From a long-sighted prudence, he observes the maxim of the ancient sage, that we should ever conduct ourselves toward our enemy as if he were one day to be our friend He has too much good sense to be affronted at insults, he is too well employed to remember injuries, and too indolent to bear malice. He is patient, forbearing and resigned, on philosophical principles; he submits to pain, because it is inevitable, to bereavement, because it is irreparable, -and to death, because it is his destiny. If he engages in controversy of any kind, his disciplined intellect preserves him from the blundering discourtesy of better, though less educated, minds. He may be right or wrong in his opinion, but he is too clear-headed to be unjust; he is as simple as he is forcible, and as brief as he is decisive. A WINGED PIRATE A Llandudno fisherman a few years ago saw a hawk seize a pigeon in midair and carry it to its nest on Great Ormes Head. He had the curiosity to follow the bird home. Climbing down the Head to a position beneath the lighthouse, he reached the nest and found the elements of a grisly tale. Scattered in and about the nest were the feet and the legs of over a thousand pigeons! Many of them still bore the rings with which owners mark valuable birds. Hundreds of birds which had been flown from various parts of France and the South of England had been reported missing from their lofts, and pigeon thieves and men with guns had all along been suspected. The clues were here in the nest; the culprit was the Pirate of Great Ormes Head.