CHAPTER X.

A FORTUNE IN GOOD MANNERS.

Give a boy address and accomplishments, and you give him the mastery of palaces and fortunes wherever he goes; he has not the trouble of earning or owning them; they solicit him to enter and possess. - EMERSON.

With hat in hand, one gets on in the world. - GERMAN PROVERB.

What thou wilt,

Thou must rather enforce it with thy smile,

Than hew to it with thy sword.

SHAKESPEARE.

Politeness has been compared to an air cushion, which, although there is apparently nothing in it, eases our jolts

wonderfully.- GEORGE L. CAREY.

Birth's gude, but breedin Is better. - Scottish Proverb.

You had better return a dropped fan genteelly than give a thousand pounds awkwardly; and you had better refuse a

favor than grant it clumsily. Manner is all in everything: it is by manner only that you can please, and consequently rise.

All your Greek will never advance you from secretary to envoy, or from envoy to ambassador; but your address, your

air, your manner, if good, may. - CHESTERFIELD.

Conduct is three fourths of life. - MATTHEW ARNOLD.

I learnt that nothing can constitute good breeding that has not good nature for its foundation. - BULWER.

The commonest man, who has his ounce of sense and feeling, is conscious of the difference between a lovely, delicate woman and a coarse one. Even a dog feels a difference in her presence. - GEORGE ELIOT.

" WHY the doose do'e 'old 'is lead down like that ? " asked a cockney sergeant-major angrily, when, a worthy fellow soldier wished to be reinstated in a position from which he had been dismissed. "Has ‘e’s been han hofficer 'e hought to know 'ow to be'ave 'isself better. What huse 'ud 'e be has ha non-commissioned hofficer hif 'e didn't dare look 'is men him the face ? Hif ha man wants, to be ha soldier, hi say, let 'im cock 'is chin hup, switch 'is stick habout ha bit, han give ha crack hover the lead to hanybody who comes foolin' round 'im, helse'e might just has well be ha Methodist parson."

MADAME DE STAEL “When she had passed it seemed like the ceasing of exquisite music”

This English is somewhat rude, but it expresses pretty forcibly the fact that a good bearing is indispensable to success as a soldier. Mien and manner have much to do with our influence and reputation in any walk of life.

"Don't you wish you had my power?" asked the East Wind of the Zephyr. "Why, when I start they hail me by storm signals all along the coast. I can twist off a ship's mast as easily as you can waft thistledown. With one sweep of my wing I strew the coast from Labrador to Cape Horn with shattered ship-timber. I can lift and have often lifted the Atlantic. I am the terror of all invalids, and to keep me from piercing to the very marrow of their bones, men cut down forests for their fires and explore the mines of continents for coal to feed their furnaces. Under my breath the nations crouch in sepulchres. Don't you wish you had my power?"

Zephyr made no reply, but floated from out the bowers of the sky, and all the rivers and lakes and seas, all the forests and fields, all the beasts and birds and men smiled at its coming. Gardens bloomed, orchards ripened, silver wheat-fields turned to gold, fleecy clouds went sailing in the lofty heaven, the pinions of birds and the sails of vessels were gently wafted onward, and health and happiness were everywhere. The foliage and flowers and fruits and harvests, the warmth and sparkle and gladness and beauty and life were the only answer Zephyr gave to the insolent question of the proud but pitiless East Wind.

The story goes that Queen Victoria once expressed herself to her husband in rather a despotic tone, and - Prince Albert, whose manly self-respect was smarting at her words, sought the seclusion of his own apartment, closing and locking the door. In about five minutes some one knocked.

“Who is it ? " inquired the Prince.

" It is I. Open to the Queen of England! " haughtily responded her Majesty. There was no reply. After a long interval there came a gentle tapping and the low spoken words: " It is I, Victoria, your wife." Is it necessary, to add that the door was opened, or that the disagreement was at an end ? It is said that civility is to a man what beauty is to a woman: it creates an instantaneous impression in his behalf.

The monk Basle, according to a quaint old legend, died while under the ban of excommunication by the pope, and was sent in charge of an angel to find his proper place in the nether world. But his genial disposition and his great conversational powers won friends wherever he went. The fallen angels adopted his manner, and even the good angels went a long way to see him and live with him. He was removed to the lowest depths of Hades, but with the same result. His inborn politeness and kindness of heart were irresistible, and he seemed to change the hell into a heaven. At length the angel returned with the monk, saying that no place could be found in which to punish him. He still remained the same Basle. So his sentence was revoked, and he was sent to Heaven and canonized as a saint. "Bishop Fenelon is a delicious man," said Lord Peter. borough; "I had, to run away from him to prevent his making me a Christian."

The Duke of Marlborough "wrote English badly and spelled it worse," yet he swayed the destinies of empires. The charm of his manner was irresistible and influenced all Europe. His fascinating smile and winning speech disarmed the fiercest hatred and made friends of the bitterest enemies.

A gentleman took his daughter of sixteen to Richmond, to witness the trial of his bitter personal enemy, Aaron Burr, whom he regarded as an arch-traitor. But she was so fascinated by Burr's charming manner that she sat with his friends. Her father took her from the courtroom, and locked her up, but she was so overcome by the fine manner of the accused that she believed in his innocence and prayed for his acquittal. "To this day," said she fifty years afterwards, “I feel the magic of his wonderful deportment."

Madame Recamier was so charming that when she ; passed around the box at the Church St. Roche in Paris, twenty thousand francs were put into it. At the great reception to Napoleon on his return from Italy, the crowd caught sight of this fascinating woman and almost forgot to look at the great hero.

"Please, Madame," whispered a servant to Madame de Maintenon at dinner, " one anecdote more, for there is no roast today." She was so fascinating in manner and speech that her guests appeared to overlook all the little discomforts of life.

According to St. Beuve, the privileged circle at Coppet, after making an excursion, returned from Chambery in two coaches. Those arriving in the first coach had a rueful experience to relate - a terrific thunder storm, shocking roads, and danger and gloom to the whole company. The party in the second coach heard their story with surprise; of thunder storm, of steeps, of mud, of danger, they knew nothing; no, they had forgotten earth, and breathed a purer air; such a conversation between Madame de Stael and Madame Recamier and Benjamin Constant and Schlegel ! They were all in a state of delight. The intoxication of the conversation had made them insensible to all notice of weather or rough roads. “If I were Queen," said Madame Tesse, " I should command Madame de Stael to talk to me every day."

" When she had passed," as Longfellow wrote of Evangeline, "it seemed like the ceasing of exquisite music."

Our homes are cheerier for her sake, Our door-yards brighter blooming, And all about the social air Is sweeter for her coming.

"A woman must be truly refined to incite chivalry in the heart of man," said Madame Necker.

"The art of pleasing," says Hazlitt, "consists in being pleased. To be amiable is to be satisfied with one's self and others."

A guest for two weeks at the house of Arthur M. Cavanaugh, M. P., who was without arms or legs, was very desirous of knowing how he fed himself; but the conversation and manner of the host were so charming that the. visitor forgot to satisfy his curiosity.

"When Dickens entered a room," said one who knew him well, "it was like the sudden kindling of a big fire, by which every one was warmed." It is said that when Goethe entered a restaurant people would lay down their knives and forks to admire him.

Philip of Macedon, after hearing the report of Demosthenes' famous oration, said: " Had I been there he would have persuaded me to take up arms against myself."

The masses could not break away from the rhythmical cadences of Wendell Phillips; they would listen spellbound for hours, even when they hated him and his cause. His inimitable manner, a kind of indefinable mesmerism, riveted their attention, and his brilliant, dazzling oratory was absolutely irresistible.

Henry Clay was so graceful and impressive in his manner that a Pennsylvania tavern-keeper tried to induce him to get out of the stage-coach in which they were riding, and make a speech to himself and his wife.

"I don't think much of Choate's spread-eagle talk," said a simple-minded member of a jury that had given five successive verdicts to the great advocate; "but I call him a very lucky lawyer, for there was not one of those five cases that came before us where he wasn't on the right side." His manner as well as his logic was irresistible.

When Edward Everett took a professor's chair at Harvard after five years of study in Europe, he was almost worshiped by the students. His manner seemed touched by that exquisite grace seldom found except in women of rare culture. His great popularity lay in a magical atmosphere which every one felt, but no one could describe, and which never left him.

After Stephen A. Douglas had been abused in the Senate he rose and said: "What no gentleman should say no gentleman need answer."

A New York lady had just taken her seat in a car on a train bound for Philadelphia, when a somewhat stout man sitting just ahead of her lighted a cigar. She coughed and moved uneasily; but the hints had no effect, so she said tartly: "You probably are a foreigner, and do not know that there is a smoking-car attached to the train. Smoking is not permitted here." The man made no reply, but threw his cigar from the window. What was her astonishment when the conductor told her, a moment later, that she had entered the private car of General Grant. She withdrew in confusion, but the same fine courtesy which led him to give up his cigar was shown again as he spared her the mortification of even a questioning glance, still less of a look of amusement, although she watched his dumb, immovable figure with apprehension until she reached the door.

Julian Ralph, after telegraphing an account of President Arthur's fishing-trip to the Thousand Islands, returned to his hotel at two o'clock in the morning, to find all the doors locked. With two friends who had accompanied him, he battered at a side door to wake the servants, but what was his chagrin when the door was opened by the President of the United States !

"Why, that's all right," said Mr. Arthur when Mr. Ralph asked his pardon. "You wouldn't have got in till morning if I had not come. No one is up in the house but me. I could have sent my colored boy, but he had fallen asleep and I hated to wake him."

The Prince of Wales, the first gentleman in Europe, invited an eminent man to dine with him. When coffee was served, what was the consternation of the others to find that the guest drank from his saucer. An open titter of amusement went round the table. The Prince lifted his eyes; and, quickly noting the cause of the untimely amusement, gravely emptied his cup into his saucer and drank after the manner of his guest. Silent and abashed the other members of the princely household took the rebuke and did the same.

Queen Victoria sent for Carlyle, who was a Scotch peasant, offering him the title of nobleman, which he declined, feeling that he had always been a nobleman in his own right. He understood so little of the manners at court that, when presented to the Queen, after speaking to her a few minutes, being tired, be said, “Let us sit down, madam; " whereat the courtiers were ready to faint. But the Queen was great enough, and gave a gesture that seated all her puppets in a moment. The Queen's courteous suspension of the rules of etiquette, and what it may have cost her, can be better understood. from what an acquaintance of Carlyle said of him when he saw him for the first time. " His presence, in some unaccountable manner, rasped the nerves I expected to meet a rare being, and I left him feeling as if I had drunk sour wine, or had had an attack of seasickness."

Some persons wield a sceptre before which others seem to bow in glad obedience. But whence do they obtain such magic power ? What is the secret of that almost hypnotic influence over people which we would give anything to possess ?

Courtesy is not always found in high places. Even royal courts furnish many examples of bad manners. At an entertainment given by the Prince and Princess of Wales, to which, of course, only the very cream of the cream of society was admitted, there was such pushing and struggling to see the Princess, who was then but lately married, that, as she passed through the reception rooms, a bust of the Princess Royal was thrown from its pedestal and damaged, and the pedestal upset; and the ladies, in their eagerness to see the Princess, actually stood upon it.

When Catherine of Russia gave receptions to her nobles, she published the following rules of etiquette upon cards: "Gentlemen will not get drunk before the feast is ended. Noblemen are forbidden to strike their wives in company. Ladies of the court must not wash out their mouths in the drinking-glasses, or wipe their faces on the mouths or pick their teeth with forks." But today the nobles of Russia have no superiors in manners.

Etiquette originally meant the ticket or tag tied to a bag to indicate its contents. If a bag had this ticket it was not examined. From this the word passed to cards upon which were printed certain rules to be observed by guests. These rules were "the ticket" or the etiquette. To be "the ticket," or, as it was sometimes expressed, to act or talk by the card, became the thing with the better classes.

It was fortunate for Napoleon that he married Josephine before he was made commander-in-chief of the armies of Italy. Her fascinating manners and her wonderful powers of persuasion, were more influential than the loyalty of any dozen men in France in attaching to him the adherents who would promote his interests. Josephine was to the drawing-room and the salon what Napoleon was to the field -a preeminent leader. The secret of her personality that made her the Empress not only of the hearts of the Frenchmen, but also of the nations her husband conquered, has been beautifully bold by herself. “There is only one occasion," she said to an intimate friend, "in which I would voluntarily use the words, ' I will I' - namely, when, I would say, ‘I will that all around me be happy. !’"

It was only a glad ‘good-morning,’ As she passed along the way, But it spread the morning's glory Over the livelong day."

A fine manner more than compensates for all the defects of nature. The most fascinating person is always the one of most winning manners, not the one of greatest physical beauty. The Greeks thought beauty was a proof of the peculiar favor of the gods, and considered that beauty only worth adorning and transmitting which was unmarred by outward manifestations of hard and haughty feeling. According to their ideal, beauty must be the expression of attractive qualities within such as cheerfulness, benignity, contentment, charity, and love.

Mirabeau was one of the homeliest men in France. It was said he had "the face of a tiger pitted by small. pox," but the charm of his manner was almost irresistible.

Madame de Stael was anything but beautiful, but she possessed that indefinable something before which mere conventional beauty cowers, commonplace and ashamed. Her hold upon the minds of men was wonderful. They were the creatures of her will, and she shaped careers as if she were omnipotent. Even the Emperor Napoleon feared her influence over his people so much that he destroyed her writings and banished her from France.

Beauty of life and character, as in art, has no sharp angles. Its lines seem continuous, so gently does curve melt into curve. It is sharp angles that keep many souls from being beautiful that are almost so. Our good is less good, when it is abrupt, rude, ill timed, or ill placed. Many a man and woman might double their influence and success by a kindly courtesy and a fine manner.

Tradition tells us that before Apelles painted his wonderful Goddess of Beauty which enchanted all Greece, he traveled for years observing fair women, that he might embody in his matchless Venus a combination of the loveliest found in all. So the good-mannered study, observe, and adopt all that is finest and most worthy of imitation in every cultured person they meet.

A single grain of musk will scent a room for years without seeming to lose any part of its intrinsic value so do we ever radiate an influence of manner appreciable to all about us and powerful for good or evil, even though we may not be conscious of its diffusion. Yet even the brute creation seems instinctively conscious of its quality, whether we be coarse or refined.

Throw a bone to a dog, said a shrewd observer, and he will run off with it in his mouth, but with no vibration in his tail. Call the dog to you, pat him on the head, let him take the bone from your hand, and his tail will wag with gratitude. The dog recognizes the good deed and the gracious manner of doing it. Those who throw their good deeds should not expect them to be caught with a thankful smile.

" Ask a person at Rome to show you the road," said Dr. Guthrie of Edinburgh, " and he will always give you a civil and polite answer; but ask any person a question for that purpose in this country [Scotland], and he will say, ' Follow your nose and you will find it'. But the blame is with the upper classes; and the reason why, in this country, the lower classes are not polite is because the upper classes are not polite. I remember how astonished I was the first time I was in Paris. I spent the first night with a banker, who took me to a pension, or, as we call it, a boarding-house. When we got there, a servant girl came to the door, and the banker took off his hat, and bowed to the servant
girl, and called her mademoiselle, as if she were a lady. Now the reason why the lower classes there are so polite is because the upper classes are polite and civil to them."

A fine courtesy is a fortune in itself. The good mannered can do without riches, for they have passports everywhere. All doors fly open to them, and they enter without money and without price. They can enjoy nearly everything without the trouble of buying or owning. They are as welcome in every household as the sunshine; and why not ? for they carry light, sunshine, and joy everywhere. They disarm jealousy and envy, for they bear good will to everybody. Bees will not sting a man smeared with honey.

"A man's own good breeding," says Chesterfield, “is the best security against other people's ill manners. It carries along with it a dignity that is respected by the most petulant. Ill breeding invites and authorizes the familiarity of the most timid. No man ever said a pert thing to the Duke of Marlborough, or a civil one to Sir Robert Walpole."

The true gentleman cannot harbor those qualities which excite the antagonism of others, as revenge, hatred, malice, envy, or jealousy, for these poison the sources of spiritual life and shrivel the soul. Generosity of heart and a genial good will towards all are absolutely essential to him who would possess fine manners. Here is a man who is cross, crabbed, moody; sullen, silent, sulky, stingy, and mean with his family and servants. He refuses his wife a little money to buy a needed dress, and accuses her of extravagance that would ruin a millionaire. Suddenly the bell rings. Some neighbors call: what a change! The bear of a moment ago is as docile as a lamb. As by magic he becomes talkative, polite, generous. After the callers have gone, his little girl begs her father to keep on his “company manners " for a little while, but the sullen mood comes back and his courtesy vanishes as quickly as it came. He is the same disagreeable, contemptible, crabbed bear as before.

What friend of the great Dr. Johnson did not feel mortified and pained to see him eat like an Esquimaux, and to hear him call men "liars" because they did not agree with him. He was called the "Ursa Major" of Great Bear. Benjamin Rush said that when Goldsmith at a banquet in London asked a question about "the American Indians," Dr. Johnson exclaimed: “There is not an Indian in North America foolish enough to ask such a question." "Sir," replied Goldsmith, "there

i's not a savage in America rude enough to make such a speech to a gentleman."

Emerson well said: " Life is not so short but that there is always time enough for courtesy." But the touchstone of our manners is often found in the way we treat our servants and the members of our own family. Rothschild, Lawrence, Brooks, and many other millionaires treated their servants as politely as their customers.

Aristotle thus described a real gentleman more than two thousand years ago: “The magnanimous man will behave with moderation under both good fortune and bad. He will not allow himself to be exalted; he will not allow himself to be abased. He will neither be delighted with success, nor grieved with failure. He will neither choose danger, nor seek it. He is not given to talk about himself nor others. He does not care that himself should be praised, nor that other people should be blamed."

A gentleman is just a gentle man: no more, no less; a diamond polished that was first a diamond in the rough. A gentleman is gentle, modest, courteous, slow to take offence, and never giving it. He is slow to surmise evil, as he never thinks it. He subjects his appetites, refines his tastes, subdues his feelings, controls his speech, and deems every other as good as himself.

A gentleman, like porcelain-ware, must be painted before he is glazed. There can be no change after it is burned in, and all that is put on afterwards will wash off. He who has lost all, but retains his courage, cheerfulness, hope, virtue, and self-respect, is a true gentleman, and is rich still.

When Mary Queen of Scots ascended the scaffold, the jailer offered her his arm, which she accepted, saying, "I thank you, sir; this is the last trouble I shall ever give you."

"You replace Dr. Franklin, I hear," said the French Minister, Count de Vergennes, to Mr. Jefferson, who had been sent to Paris to relieve our most popular representative. "I succeed him; no man can replace him," was the felicitous reply of the man who became highly esteemed by the most polite court in Europe.

"You should not have returned their salute," said the master of ceremonies, when Clement XIV. bowed to the ambassadors who had bowed in congratulating him upon his election. " Oh, I beg your pardon," replied Clement. "I have not been pope long enough to forget good manners."

Cowper says: -

"A modest, sensible, and well-bred man Would not insult me, and no other can.”

"I never listen to calumnies," said Montesquieu, "because if they are untrue I run the risk of being deceived, and if they are true, of hating people not worth thinking about."

“I think," says Emerson, "Hans Andersen's story of the cobweb cloth woven so fine that it was invisible - woven for the king's garment - must mean manners. Which do really clothe a princely nature."

No one can fully estimate how great a factor in life is the possession of good manners, or timely thoughtfulness with human sympathy behind it. They are the kindly fruit of a refined nature, and are the open sesame to the best of society. They vex or soothe, exalt or debase, barbarize or refine us by a constant, steady, uniform, invincible operation like that of the air we breathe. Even power itself has not half the might of gentleness, that subtle oil which lubricates our relations with each other, and enables the machinery of society to perform its functions without friction.

Thistles, and brambles, and briars, and Rocky Mountain sage-grass, and mullein stocks, and noxious weeds, grow without culture, but the great red rose of the conservatory, its leaves packed on leaves in graceful groups that gladden the eye, its rare perfume breathing delicious fragrance upon the air, was born of a race of cultured ancestors, and has received careful culture throughout its brief but beautiful life.

" Have you not seen in the woods, in a late autumn morning," asks Emerson, " a poor fungus, or mushroom, -a plant without any solidity, nay, that seemed nothing but a soft mush or jelly, -by its constant, total, and inconceivably gentle pushing, manage to break its way up through the frosty ground, and actually, to lift a hard crust on its head ? It is the symbol of the power of kindness."

"There is no policy like politeness," says Magoon; since a good manner often succeeds where the best tongue has failed." The art of pleasing is the art of rising in the world.

The politest people in the world, it is said, are the Jews. In all ages they have been maltreated and reviled, and despoiled of their civil privileges and their social rights; yet are they everywhere polite, affable, insinuating, and condescending. They indulge in few or no recriminations; are faithful to old associations; more considerate of the prejudices of others than others are of theirs; not more worldly minded and money-loving than people generally are; and, everything
considered, they surpass all nations in courtesy, affability, and forbearance.

It was the Frenchmen at Foutenoy who politely bade the English to fire first, even when they were face to face before the battle.

In concluding the terms of peace at the close of the Franco-Prussian War, Bismarck conceded to the French the honor of firing the last shot. The German army discharged its final salute, and there was a momentary stillness in both armies. Then came the report of a single French gun, followed by the stroke of twelve on the clock tower at Versailles, and the desperate contest was over.

“Men, like bullets," says Richter, “go farthest when they are smoothest."

Napoleon was much displeased on hearing that Josephine had permitted General Lorges, a young and handsome man, to sit beside her on the sofa. Josephine explained that, instead of its being General Lorges, it was one of the aged generals of his army, entirely unused to the customs of courts. Josephine was unwilling to wound the feelings of the honest old soldier, and so allowed him to retain his seat. Napoleon commended her highly for her courtesy.

President Jefferson was one day riding with his grandson, when they met a slave, who took off his hat and bowed. The President returned the salutation by raising his hat, but the grandson ignored the civility of the negro. "Thomas," said the grandfather, "do you permit a slave to be more of a gentleman than yourself ?" " Lincoln was the first great man I talked with freely m the United States," said Fred Douglass, "who in no single instance reminded me of the difference between himself and me, of the difference in color."

"Eat at your own table," says Confucius, " as you would eat at the table of the king." If parents were not careless about the manners of their children at home, they would seldom be shocked at their behavior abroad.

When Washington visited Milford, N. H., in 1790, he was walking about the town with several officers, when he was saluted by a colored soldier who had fought under him and lost a limb in the service. Washington shook hands with the soldier and gave him a silver dollar. An attendant objected to the President of the United States showing civilities to so humble a person, but Washington rebuked him and asked if he should permit this colored man to excel him in politeness.

Andrew Jackson was as courteous, respectful, and kind to his slaves as to his white neighbors. He was a man without fear and without secrets. He never locked a door or concealed a paper.

James Russell Lowell was as courteous to a beggar as to a lord, and was once observed holding a long conversation in Italian with an organ-grinder whom he was questioning about scenes in Italy that they were each familiar with.

In hastily turning the corner of a crooked street in London, a young lady ran with great force against a ragged beggar-boy and almost knocked him down. Stopping as soon as she could, she turned around and said very kindly: “ I beg your pardon, my little fellow; I am very sorry that I ran against you." The astonished boy looked at her a moment, and then, taking off about three quarters of a cap, made a low bow and said, while a broad, pleasant smile overspread his face: "You have my parding, miss, and welcome, -and welcome; and the next time you run ag'in' me, you can knock me clean down. and I won't say a word." After the lady had passed on, he said to a companion: “I say, Jim, it's

the first time I ever had anybody ask my parding, and it kind d took me off my feet."

" Respect the burden, madame, respect the burden," said Napoleon, as he courteously stepped aside at St. Helena to make way for a laborer bending under a heavy load, while his companion seemed inclined to keep the narrow path.

A Washington politician went to visit Daniel Webster at Marshfield, Mass., and, in taking a short cut to the house, came to a stream which he could not cross. Calling to a rough-looking farmer near by, he offered a quarter to be carried to the other side. The farmer took the politician on his broad shoulders and landed him. safely, but would not take the quarter. The old rustic presented himself at the house a few minutes later, and was introduced as Mr. Webster, to the great surprise and chagrin of the visitor.

President Quincy was once riding to Cambridge in a crowded omnibus, when a colored woman entered. The president of Harvard University rose and gave her his seat, although at that time negroes were considered "only property." The author heard Fred Douglass say that he was ejected from a street car in Boston on account of his color.

Garrison was as polite to the furious mob that tore his clothes from his back and dragged him through the streets as he could have been to a king. He was one of the serenest souls that ever lived. Christ was courteous, even to his persecutors, and in terrible agony on the cross he cried: "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do." The speech of Paul before Agrippa is a model of dignified courtesy, as well as of persuasive eloquence. The finest type of the coming man will be a Christian gentleman.

Good manners often prove a fortune to a young man. Mr. Butler, a merchant in Providence, R. L, had once closed his store and was on his way home when he met a little girl who wanted a spool of thread. He went back, opened the store, and got the thread. This little incident was talked of all about the city and brought him hundreds of customers. He became very wealthy, largely because of his courtesy.

Ross Winans of Baltimore owed his great success and fortune largely to his courtesy to two foreign strangers. Although his was but a fourth-rate factory, his great politeness in explaining the minutest details to his visitors was in such marked contrast with the limited attention they had received in large establishments that it won their esteem. The strangers were Russians sent by their Czar, who soon invited Mr. Winans to establish locomotive works in Russia. He did so, and soon his profits resulting from his politeness were more than $100,000 a year. Courtesy pays.

A poor curate saw a crowd of rough boys and men laughing and making fun of two aged spinsters dressed in antiquated costume. The ladies were embarrassed and did not dare enter the church. The curate pushed through the crowd, conducted them up the central aisle, and gave them choice seats, amid the titter of the congregation. These old ladies at their death left the gentle curate a large fortune, although strangers to him. Not long since a lady met the late President Humphrey of Amherst College, and she was so much pleased with his great politeness that she gave a generous donation to the college.

"Why did our friend never succeed in business?" asked a man returning to New York after years of absence; "he had sufficient capital, a thorough knowledge of his business, and exceptional shrewdness and sagacity." "He was sour and morose," was the reply; "he always suspected his employees of cheating him, and was discourteous to his customers. Hence, no man ever put good will or energy into work done for him, and his patrons went to shops where they were sure of civility ! "

Some men almost work their hands off, and deny themselves many of the common comforts of life in their earnest efforts to succeed, and yet render success impossible by their cross-grained ungentlemanliness. They repel patronage, and business goes to others who are really less deserving but more companionable.

Bad manners often neutralize even honesty, industry, and the greatest energy; while agreeable manners win in spite of other defects. Take two men, possessing equal advantages in every other respect; but let one be gentlemanly, kind, obliging, and conciliating, the other disobliging, rude, harsh, and insolent, and the one will become rich while the other will starve.

A fine illustration of the business value of good manners is found in the Bon Marche, an enormous establishment in Paris where thousands of clerks are employed, and where almost everything is kept for sale. The two distinguishing characteristics of the house are one low price to all, and extreme courtesy. Mere politeness is not enough; the employees must try in every possible way to please and to make customers feel at home. Something more must be done than is done in other stores, so that every visitor will remember the Bon Marche with pleasure. By this course the business has been developed until it is said to be the largest of the kind in the world. No other advertising is so efficacious. A.T. Stewart imitated this store in his great retail house in New York.

"Thank you, my dear; please call again," spoken to a little beggar-girl, who bought a pennyworth of snuff, proved a profitable advertisement and made Lundy Foote a millionaire.

Many persons of real refinement are thought to be stiff, proud, reserved, and haughty who are not, but who are merely diffident and shy. It is a curious fact that diffidence often betrays us into discourtesies which our hearts abhor, and which cause us intense mortification and embarrassment. Excessive shyness must be overcome as an obstacle to perfect manners. It is peculiar to the Anglo-Saxon and the Teutonic races, and has frequently been a barrier to the highest culture. It is a disease of the finest organizations and the highest types of humanity. It never attacks the coarse and vulgar.

Sir Isaac Newton was the shyest man of his age. He did not acknowledge his great discovery for years for fear of attracting attention to himself. He would not allow his name to be used in connection with his theory of the moon's motion, for fear it would increase the acquaintances he would have to meet. George Washington was awkward and shy and had the air of a countryman. Archbishop Whately was so shy that he would escape notice when ever it was possible. At last he determined to give up trying to cure his shyness; "for why," he asked, “should I endure this torture all my life ? " when, to his surprise, it almost entirely disappeared. Elihu Burritt was so shy that he would hide in the cellar when his parents had company.

Practice on the stage or lecture platform does not always eradicate shyness. David Garrick, the great actor, was once summoned to testify in court; and, though he had acted for thirty years with marked self-possession, he was so confused and embarrassed that the judge dismissed him. John B. Gough said that he could not rid himself of his early diffidence and shrinking from public notice. He said that he never went on the platform without fear and trembling, and would often be covered with cold perspiration.

There are many worthy people who are brave on the street, who would walk up to a cannon's mouth in battle, but who are cowards in the drawing-room, and dare not express an opinion in the social circle.

They feel conscious of a subtle tyranny in society's code, which locks their lips and ties their tongues. Addison was one of the purest writers of English and a perfect master of the pen, but he could scarcely utter a dozen words in conversation without embarrassment. Shakespeare was very shy. He retired from London at forty, and did not try to publish or preserve one of his plays. He took second or third rate parts on account of his diffidence. Byron would sometimes jump out of a window when he saw visitors coming, to avoid meeting them. Hawthorne wrote in his note-book: "When in England I was called upon at a public dinner to make a speech. I rapped on my head and it returned only a hollow sound." He was tortured through life by his shyness, and would often take a boat on the Concord River to escape visitors. He would sometimes turn his back to avoid recognition. "God may forgive sins," said he, " but awkwardness has no forgiveness in heaven or earth! "

Generally shyness comes from a person thinking too much about himself -which in itself is a breach of good breeding -and wondering what other people think about him.

"I was once very shy," said Sydney Smith, "but it was not long before I made two very useful discoveries first, that all mankind were not solely employed in observing me; and next, that shamming was of no use; that the world was very clear-sighted, and soon estimated a man at his true value. This cured me."

What a misfortune it is to go through life apparently, encased in ice, yet all the while full of kindly, cordial feeling for one's fellow men? It is a disease; for it is caused by fear, and fear is a disease. Shy people are always distrustful of their powers and look upon their lack of confidence as a weakness or lack of ability, when it may indicate quite the reverse. By teaching children early the arts of social life, such as boxing, horseback riding, dancing, elocution, and similar accomplishments, we may do much to overcome the sense of shyness. Shy people should dress well. Good clothes give ease of manner, and unlock the tongue. The consciousness of being well dressed gives a grace and ease of manner that even religion will not bestow, while
inferiority of garb often induces restraint. As peculiarities in apparel are sure to attract attention, it is well to avoid bright colors and fashionable extremes, and wear plain, well-fitted garments of as good material as the purse will afford.

Beauty in dress is a good thing, rail at it who may. But it is a lower beauty, for which a higher beauty should not be sacrificed. They love dress too much who give it their first thought, their best time, or all their money; who for it neglect the culture of the mind or heart, or the claims of others on their service; who care more for dress than for their character; who are troubled more by an unfashionable garment than by a neglected duty.

When Ezekiel Whitman, a prominent lawyer and graduate of Harvard, was elected to the Massachusetts legislature, he came to Boston from his farm in countryman's dress, and went to an hotel in Boston. He went into the parlor and sat down, when he overheard a remark between some ladies and gentlemen. "Ah, here comes a real homespun countryman. Here's fun.” They asked him all sorts of queer questions, tending to throw ridicule upon him, when he arose and said, "Ladies and gentlemen, permit me to wish you health and happiness, and may you grow better and wiser in advancing years, bearing in mind that outward appearances are deceitful. You mistook me, from my dress, for a country booby; while I, from the same superficial cause, thought you were ladies and gentlemen. The mistake has been mutual." Just then Governor Caleb Strong entered and called to Mr. Whitman, who, turning to the dumfounded company, said: " I wish you a very good evening."' Dress, like wealth, is a power, but we must not be its slave.

" An emperor in his nightcap," says Goldsmith, "would not meet with half the respect of an emperor with a crown."

“In civilized society," says Johnson, "external advantages make us more respected. A man with a good coat upon his back meets with a better reception than he who has a bad one."

One cannot but feel that God is a lover of dress. He has put robes of beauty and glory upon all his works. Every flower is dressed in richness; every field blushes beneath a mantle of beauty; every star is veiled in brightness; every bird is clothed in the habiliments of the most exquisite taste.

Yet some fanatics will tell you that beauty is a sin, and that the loveliness and gorgeousness of nature are a consequence of the fall of man in Eden. Some people look upon polished manners as a kind of affectation. They claim admiration for plain, solid, square, rugged characters. As well say that they like square, plain, unornamented houses made from square blocks of stone. St. Peter's is none the less strong and solid because of its elegant columns and the magnificent sweep of its arches, its carved and fretted marbles of matchless hues.

Why do not such people wear their diamonds in the rough? Why not take them as made by nature ? They have the same intrinsic value, but we know that all men want their diamonds polished. Our manners like our characters are always under inspection. Every time we go into society we must step on the scales of each person's opinion, and the loss or gain from our last weight is carefully noted. Each asks, "Is this person going up or down? Through how many grades has he passed? " For example, young Brown enters a drawing-room. All present weigh him in their judgment and silently say, "This young man is gaining; he is more careful, thoughtful, polite, considerate, straightforward, truthful, industrious" Beside him stands young Jones. It is evident that he is losing ground rapidly. He is careless, indifferent, rough, profane, obscene, does not look you in the eye, is mean, small, stingy, snaps at the servants, yet is over-polite to strangers. And so we go through life, tagged with these invisible labels by all who know us.

I sometimes think it would be a great advantage if one could read these ratings of his associates. We cannot long deceive the world, for that other self, who ever stands in the shadow of ourselves holding the scales of justice, that telltale in the soul, rushes to the eye or into the manner and betrays us.

But manners, while they are the garb of the gentleman, do not constitute or finally determine his character. Mere politeness can never be a substitute for moral excellence, any more than the bark can take' the place of the heart of the oak. It may well indicate the kind of wood below, but not always whether it be sound or decayed. Etiquette is but a substitute for good manners and is often but their mere counterfeit.

Sincerity is the highest quality of good manners. The following recipe is recommended to those who wish to acquire genuine good manners: -

Of Unselfishness, three drachma;

Of the tincture of Good Cheer, one ounce;

Of Essence of Heart's-Ease, three drachma;

Of the Extract of the Rose of Sharon, four ounces;

Of the Oil of Charity, three drachma, and no scruples;

Of the Infusion of Common Sense and Tact, one ounce;

Of the Spirit of Love, two ounces. The Mixture to be taken whenever there is the slightest symptom of selfishness, exclusiveness, meanness, of I-am-better-than you-ness.

Pattern after Him who gave the Golden Rule, and who was the first true gentleman that ever breathed.