Letters from a Father to His Son

GOOD MANNERS
London, January 20th, 1849.
My dear son,
Manners, it has been said, make the man. This, however, is not
altogether so, because there are people who, from birth, habit,
and a constant interaction with good society, possess the most
unexceptionable manners—but nothing else. Such people, you
must understand, would, in all probability, have been unbearable
but for this advantage; and, if good manners make men, without
natural good sense and ability pass current in the world—then
how persuasive and engaging must be their effect when added to
a well-regulated mind and superior attainments and talents!
Some people of vigorous intellects are apt to adopt a roughness
of demeanor, showing their contempt for what they term a
mincing gentility. Affectation of all sorts, whether of plainness or
the reverse, is to be shunned. There is, nevertheless, a happy
medium—that of being neither too plausible and silky on the one
hand, nor too blunt and direct on the other hand—which it
should be the study of every man of sense to attain. Indeed, it
needs not much study to acquire such a manner, because the first
step towards it is the entire absence of all pretense and affectation
from the mind, and the rejection of everything like foolery and
foppery on the one hand—or rudeness and slovenliness on the
other—in dress, language, and appearance.
Young men should never obtrude their opinions on their seniors,
nor be forward in speech among those older than themselves. I
saw a youth once, not above fifteen or sixteen years old, tap his
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