True Politeness

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Seventh-day Adventist Missionary Society · Oakland, Cal. · Sep 14, 1882

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 8, No. 35.

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True Politeness.

THERE is a difference between politeness and etiquette. Etiquette can be declined, classified, formulated. You can tell young people to take their soup from the side of their spoons; to eat with their forks; not to make a noise in eating; and all these and countless more injunctions are important. But I would rather eat a hundred dinners with my knife than laugh one malicious laugh at some one else who did so.
No error in conventional breeding, mortifying as such errors are, is one-quarter so serious as the least rudeness which has its root in the heart, and springs from innate disregard of the rights or feelings of others.
It was not the least royal act of good Queen Caroline when, seeing at one of her little tea-parties two ladies from the country who poured their tea into their saucers to cool, she looked with stern reproof at some of her maids of honor, who were laughing behind their fans, and reassured her guests by tranquilly pouring her own tea into her saucer and drinking it.
Good manners are to a person what perfume is to a flower; something which is necessary to make even beauty lovely. Their very essence is sympathy.
I do not think a true Christian could possibly be anything else but well-bred, though there are plenty of gruff and uncivil members of churches. But not one who has taken the gospel of Christ into his heart, who loves his neighbor as himself and blesses even his enemy, can be anything but truly polite, however he might, through lack of social experience, offend against some of the canons of etiquette. To learn to put yourself instinctively in another person's place is the grand secret of true politeness.
Two ladies had met often at the houses of their common friends, and had been introduced to each other once or twice on such occasions. Of course, according to strict etiquette, such an introduction does not bind people to recognize each other afterward. One day, these ladies of whom I speak, met in the midst of a little group of people.
"Good morning, Mrs. B," said Mrs. A, "I think you must be very near-sighted, for you never know me though we've met so often."
"You mistake," was Mrs. B's reply. "I am not at all near-sighted," and with the coldest of bows she moved away.
Her object, no doubt, was to resent what she considered a liberty, and teach Mrs. A. a lesson; but she succeeded only in leaving on the by-standers the impression that she herself, whatever her social position, was not really a lady.
To go into society with the distinct object of making other people happy is to insure that you will be not only at ease, but well-bred.—Ex.