Section 8
Qualities Immediately Pleasing to Others
It is the nature and, indeed, the definition of virtue, that it is A QUALITY OF THE MIND AGREEABLE TO OR APPROVED OF BY EVERY ONE WHO CONSIDERS OR CONTEMPLATES IT. But some qualities produce pleasure, because they are useful to society, or useful or agreeable to the person himself; others produce it more immediately, which is the case with the class of virtues here considered.
AS the mutual shocks, in SOCIETY, and the oppositions of interest and self-love have constrained mankind to establish the laws of JUSTICE, in order to preserve the advantages of mutual assistance and protection: in like manner, the eternal contrarieties, in COMPANY, of men's pride and self-conceit, have introduced the rules of Good Manners or Politeness, in order to facilitate the intercourse of minds, and an undisturbed commerce and conversation. Among well-bred people, a mutual deference is affected; contempt of others disguised; authority concealed; attention given to each in his turn; and an easy stream of conversation maintained, without vehemence, without interruption, without eagerness for victory, and without any airs of superiority. These attentions and regards are immediately AGREEABLE to others, abstracted from any consideration of utility or beneficial tendencies: they conciliate affection, promote esteem, and extremely enhance the merit of the person who regulates his behaviour by them.
Conflicts in society, along with competing interests and self-interest, have forced people to establish laws of justice. These laws preserve the benefits of mutual help and protection. Similarly, the constant clashes between people's pride and vanity in company have led to rules of good manners or politeness. These rules make it easier for minds to meet and for people to interact and converse without disturbance. Among well-bred people, each person pretends to show respect for others. They disguise their contempt, conceal their authority, and give each person attention in turn. They keep conversation flowing easily, without passion, interruption, eagerness to win, or airs of superiority. These courtesies are immediately pleasing to others, regardless of their usefulness or beneficial effects. They win affection, encourage respect, and greatly enhance the merit of anyone who follows them.
Many of the forms of breeding are arbitrary and casual; but the thing expressed by them is still the same. A Spaniard goes out of his own house before his guest, to signify that he leaves him master of all. In other countries, the landlord walks out last, as a common mark of deference and regard.
Many customs of good manners are arbitrary and accidental, but they still express the same thing. A Spaniard leaves his own house before his guest, to show that he leaves the guest in charge of everything. In other countries, the host leaves last, as a common sign of respect and consideration.
But, in order to render a man perfect GOOD COMPANY, he must have Wit and Ingenuity as well as good manners. What wit is, it may not be easy to define; but it is easy surely to determine that it is a quality immediately AGREEABLE to others, and communicating, on its first appearance, a lively joy and satisfaction to every one who has any comprehension of it. The most profound metaphysics, indeed, might be employed in explaining the various kinds and species of wit; and many classes of it, which are now received on the sole testimony of taste and sentiment, might, perhaps, be resolved into more general principles. But this is sufficient for our present purpose, that it does affect taste and sentiment, and bestowing an immediate enjoyment, is a sure source of approbation and affection.
But to be perfect company, a person must have wit and ingenuity as well as good manners. Wit may not be easy to define. But it is surely easy to see that wit is immediately pleasing to others. As soon as it appears, it gives lively joy and satisfaction to everyone capable of understanding it. Indeed, explaining the various kinds of wit might require the deepest philosophical analysis. Many kinds of wit are now recognized solely by taste and feeling. Perhaps they could be explained by more general principles. But for our present purpose, it is enough that wit affects taste and feeling. Because it gives immediate pleasure, it is a sure source of approval and affection.
In countries where men pass most of their time in conversation, and visits, and assemblies, these COMPANIONABLE qualities, so to speak, are of high estimation, and form a chief part of personal merit. In countries where men live a more domestic life, and either are employed in business, or amuse themselves in a narrower circle of acquaintance, the more solid qualities are chiefly regarded. Thus, I have often observed, that, among the French, the first questions with regard to a stranger are, IS HE POLITE? HAS HE WIT? In our own country, the chief praise bestowed is always that of a GOOD-NATURED, SENSIBLE FELLOW.
In countries where men spend most of their time talking, visiting, and attending gatherings, these COMPANIONABLE qualities, so to speak, are highly valued. They form a major part of a person’s merit. In countries where men live a more domestic life, they are either busy with business or enjoy themselves among a smaller circle of acquaintances. There, more substantial qualities are valued most. Thus, I have often noticed that among the French, the first questions about a stranger are, IS HE POLITE? IS HE WITTY? In our own country, the highest praise always given is that a man is a GOOD-NATURED, SENSIBLE FELLOW.
In conversation, the lively spirit of dialogue is AGREEABLE, even to those who desire not to have any share in the discourse: hence the teller of long stories, or the pompous declaimer, is very little approved of. But most men desire likewise their turn in the conversation, and regard, with a very evil eye, that LOQUACITY which deprives them of a right they are naturally so jealous of.
The lively spirit of conversation is PLEASANT, even for those who do not want to take part. That is why people have little patience for someone who tells long stories or speaks pompously. But most people also want their turn to speak. They strongly resent the TALKATIVENESS that deprives them of a right they naturally guard so jealously.
There is a sort of harmless LIARS, frequently to be met with in company, who deal much in the marvellous. Their usual intention is to please and entertain; but as men are most delighted with what they conceive to be truth, these people mistake extremely the means of pleasing, and incur universal blame. Some indulgence, however, to lying or fiction is given in HUMOROUS stories; because it is there really agreeable and entertaining, and truth is not of any importance.
There is a kind of harmless LIAR often encountered in social gatherings, who tells many marvelous stories. Their usual aim is to please and entertain. But people are most delighted by what they believe to be true. So these liars are badly mistaken about how to please others, and everyone blames them. Some allowance is made, however, for lies or fiction in HUMOROUS stories. In such stories, fiction really is pleasing and entertaining, and truth does not matter.
Eloquence, genius of all kinds, even good sense, and sound reasoning, when it rises to an eminent degree, and is employed upon subjects of any considerable dignity and nice discernment; all these endowments seem immediately agreeable, and have a merit distinct from their usefulness. Rarity, likewise, which so much enhances the price of every thing, must set an additional value on these noble talents of the human mind.
Eloquence, genius of all kinds, and even good sense and sound reasoning seem pleasing in themselves. This is true when they reach an outstanding level and are applied to important subjects requiring fine judgment. All these gifts have merit apart from their usefulness. Their rarity adds to the value of these noble human talents, just as rarity greatly increases the price of everything.
Modesty may be understood in different senses, even abstracted from chastity, which has been already treated of. It sometimes means that tenderness and nicety of honour, that apprehension of blame, that dread of intrusion or injury towards others, that Pudor, which is the proper guardian of every kind of virtue, and a sure preservative against vice and corruption. But its most usual meaning is when it is opposed to IMPUDENCE and ARROGANCE, and expresses a diffidence of our own judgement, and a due attention and regard for others. In young men chiefly, this quality is a sure sign of good sense; and is also the certain means of augmenting that endowment, by preserving their ears open to instruction, and making them still grasp after new attainments. But it has a further charm to every spectator; by flattering every man's vanity, and presenting the appearance of a docile pupil, who receives, with proper attention and respect, every word they utter.
Modesty can mean different things, even apart from chastity, which has already been discussed. Sometimes it means a delicate sense of honour, a fear of blame, and a dread of intruding on or harming others. This sense, called Pudor, is the proper guardian of every kind of virtue and a sure protection against vice and corruption. But modesty usually means the opposite of impudence and arrogance. It expresses a lack of confidence in our own judgment and proper attention and respect for others. In young men especially, modesty is a sure sign of good sense. It is also a certain way to increase good sense, since it keeps young men open to instruction and eager to learn more. But modesty has a further charm for everyone who sees it. It flatters each person’s vanity by presenting the appearance of an eager pupil, who listens to every word they say with proper attention and respect.
Men have, in general, a much greater propensity to overvalue than undervalue themselves; notwithstanding the opinion of Aristotle. This makes us more jealous of the excess on the former side, and causes us to regard, with a peculiar indulgence, all tendency to modesty and self-diffidence; as esteeming the danger less of falling into any vicious extreme of that nature. It is thus in countries where men's bodies are apt to exceed in corpulency, personal beauty is placed in a much greater degree of slenderness, than in countries where that is the most usual defect. Being so often struck with instances of one species of deformity, men think they can never keep at too great a distance from it, and wish always to have a leaning to the opposite side. In like manner, were the door opened to self-praise, and were Montaigne's maxim observed, that one should say as frankly, I HAVE SENSE, I HAVE LEARNING, I HAVE COURAGE, BEAUTY, OR WIT, as it is sure we often think so; were this the case, I say, every one is sensible that such a flood of impertinence would break in upon us, as would render society wholly intolerable. For this reason custom has established it as a rule, in common societies, that men should not indulge themselves in self-praise, or even speak much of themselves; and it is only among intimate friends or people of very manly behaviour, that one is allowed to do himself justice. Nobody finds fault with Maurice, Prince of Orange, for his reply to one who asked him, whom he esteemed the first general of the age, THE MARQUIS OF SPINOLA, said he, IS THE SECOND. Though it is observable, that the self-praise implied is here better implied, than if it had been directly expressed, without any cover or disguise.
People generally have a much greater tendency to overvalue themselves than to undervalue themselves, despite Aristotle's opinion. This makes us more wary of excessive self-regard. It also leads us to look especially kindly on every tendency toward modesty and self-doubt. We think there is less danger of falling into a harmful extreme on that side. Similarly, in countries where people tend to be overweight, greater slenderness is considered beautiful than in countries where excessive thinness is the more common flaw. People see so many examples of one kind of physical flaw that they think they can never get too far from it. They always want to lean toward the opposite side. Likewise, suppose people were free to praise themselves and followed Montaigne's maxim. He said that people should say, just as frankly as they often think it, I HAVE SENSE, I HAVE LEARNING, I HAVE COURAGE, BEAUTY, OR WIT. Everyone can see that this would unleash a flood of offensive behavior and make society utterly intolerable. For this reason, custom has established a rule for ordinary social company. People should not indulge in self-praise or even talk much about themselves. Only among close friends or people of very manly behavior is one allowed to give oneself due credit. No one criticizes Maurice, Prince of Orange, for his reply to someone who asked whom he considered the greatest general of the age. THE MARQUIS OF SPINOLA, he said, IS THE SECOND. Still, it is worth noting that his self-praise is better implied than if he had expressed it directly, without any cover or disguise.
Ethic. ad Nicomachum.
He must be a very superficial thinker, who imagines that all instances of mutual deference are to be understood in earnest, and that a man would be more esteemable for being ignorant of his own merits and accomplishments. A small bias towards modesty, even in the internal sentiment, is favourably regarded, especially in young people; and a strong bias is required in the outward behaviour; but this excludes not a noble pride and spirit, which may openly display itself in its full extent, when one lies under calumny or oppression of any kind. The generous contumacy of Socrates, as Cicero calls it, has been highly celebrated in all ages; and when joined to the usual modesty of his behaviour, forms a shining character. Iphicrates, the Athenian, being accused of betraying the interests of his country, asked his accuser, WOULD YOU, says he, HAVE, ON A LIKE OCCASION, BEEN GUILTY OF THAT CRIME? BY NO MEANS, replied the other. AND CAN YOU THEN IMAGINE, cried the hero, that Iphicrates WOULD BE GUILTY?—In short, a generous spirit and self-value, well founded, decently disguised, and courageously supported under distress and calumny, is a great excellency, and seems to derive its merit from the noble elevation of its sentiment, or its immediate agreeableness to its possessor. In ordinary characters, we approve of a bias towards modesty, which is a quality immediately agreeable to others: the vicious excess of the former virtue, namely, insolence or haughtiness, is immediately disagreeable to others; the excess of the latter is so to the possessor. Thus are the boundaries of these duties adjusted.
Only a very superficial thinker would take all expressions of mutual respect as sincere. Such a thinker would also imagine that a man deserves more respect for being unaware of his own merits and accomplishments. A slight tendency toward modesty is viewed favorably, even in one’s private thoughts, especially in young people. A strong tendency toward modesty is required in outward behavior. But modesty does not rule out a noble pride and spirit. These may show themselves openly and fully when someone is slandered or oppressed in any way. Socrates’ noble defiance, as Cicero calls it, has been highly praised in every age. Combined with his usual modest behavior, it makes his character shine. Iphicrates, the Athenian, was accused of betraying his country’s interests. He asked his accuser, “Would you have committed that crime in the same situation?” “Not at all,” the other replied. “Then can you imagine,” cried the hero, “that Iphicrates would be guilty?” In short, a noble spirit and self-esteem are a great virtue when they are well founded and modestly concealed. They must also be courageously upheld in the face of distress and slander. This virtue seems to derive its merit from the noble elevation of its feeling, or from its immediate agreeableness to the person who possesses it. In ordinary people, we approve of a tendency toward modesty. Modesty is a quality immediately agreeable to others. Excessive self-esteem, in the form of insolence or arrogance, is a vice immediately disagreeable to others. Excessive modesty, by contrast, is disagreeable to the person who feels it. In this way, the limits of these duties are set.
Quinctil. lib. v. cap. 12.
A desire of fame, reputation, or a character with others, is so far from being blameable, that it seems inseparable from virtue, genius, capacity, and a generous or noble disposition. An attention even to trivial matters, in order to please, is also expected and demanded by society; and no one is surprised, if he find a man in company to observe a greater elegance of dress and more pleasant flow of conversation, than when he passes his time at home, and with his own family. Wherein, then, consists Vanity, which is so justly regarded as a fault or imperfection. It seems to consist chiefly in such an intemperate display of our advantages, honours, and accomplishments; in such an importunate and open demand of praise and admiration, as is offensive to others, and encroaches too far on their secret vanity and ambition. It is besides a sure symptom of the want of true dignity and elevation of mind, which is so great an ornament in any character. For why that impatient desire of applause; as if you were not justly entitled to it, and might not reasonably expect that it would for ever at tend you? Why so anxious to inform us of the great company which you have kept; the obliging things which were said to you; the honours, the distinctions which you met with; as if these were not things of course, and what we could readily, of ourselves, have imagined, without being told of them?
A desire for fame, reputation, or a good standing with others is far from blameworthy. It seems inseparable from virtue, genius, ability, and a generous or noble nature. Society also expects and demands that we attend to even trivial matters in order to please others. No one is surprised to find a man dressing more elegantly and talking more pleasantly in company than at home with his family. What, then, is vanity, which is so rightly regarded as a fault or imperfection? It seems to consist chiefly in an excessive display of our advantages, honors, and accomplishments. It also consists in an insistent and open demand for praise and admiration. Such behavior offends others and intrudes too far on their own hidden vanity and ambition. Vanity is also a sure sign of a lack of true dignity and nobility of mind. These qualities add so much to any character. Why are you so impatient for applause? Is it as though you were not rightly entitled to it and could not reasonably expect it to follow you forever? Why are you so anxious to tell us about the important people you have spent time with? Why tell us the kind things they said to you and the honors and distinctions you received? You speak as though these things were not to be expected. Yet we could easily have imagined them ourselves, without being told.
Decency, or a proper regard to age, sex, character, and station in the world, may be ranked among the qualities which are immediately agreeable to others, and which, by that means, acquire praise and approbation. An effeminate behaviour in a man, a rough manner in a woman; these are ugly because unsuitable to each character, and different from the qualities which we expect in the sexes. It is as if a tragedy abounded in comic beauties, or a comedy in tragic. The disproportions hurt the eye, and convey a disagreeable sentiment to the spectators, the source of blame and disapprobation. This is that INDECORUM, which is explained so much at large by Cicero in his Offices.
Decency means showing proper regard for a person’s age, sex, character, and social position. It may be counted among the qualities that are immediately pleasing to others and therefore earn praise and approval. Effeminate behavior in a man and a rough manner in a woman are unattractive. They are unsuitable to each character and differ from the qualities we expect in the sexes. It is as if a tragedy were full of comic beauties, or a comedy full of tragic ones. These mismatches offend the eye and give spectators an unpleasant feeling, which leads to blame and disapproval. This is INDECORUM, which Cicero explains at great length in his Offices.
Among the other virtues, we may also give Cleanliness a place; since it naturally renders us agreeable to others, and is no inconsiderable source of love and affection. No one will deny, that a negligence in this particular is a fault; and as faults are nothing but smaller vices, and this fault can have no other origin than the uneasy sensation which it excites in others; we may, in this instance, seemingly so trivial, clearly discover the origin of moral distinctions, about which the learned have involved themselves in such mazes of perplexity and error.
We may also count cleanliness among the virtues. It naturally makes us agreeable to others and is a significant source of love and affection. No one will deny that neglecting cleanliness is a fault. Faults are simply lesser vices, and this fault can arise only from the discomfort it causes others. So, in this seemingly trivial example, we can clearly see the origin of moral distinctions. Scholars have tangled themselves in confusion and error over that origin.
But besides all the AGREEABLE qualities, the origin of whose beauty we can, in some degree, explain and account for, there still remains something mysterious and inexplicable, which conveys an immediate satisfaction to the spectator, but how, or why, or for what reason, he cannot pretend to determine. There is a manner, a grace, an ease, a genteelness, an I-know-not-what, which some men possess above others, which is very different from external beauty and comeliness, and which, however, catches our affection almost as suddenly and powerfully. And though this MANNER be chiefly talked of in the passion between the sexes, where the concealed magic is easily explained, yet surely much of it prevails in all our estimation of characters, and forms no inconsiderable part of personal merit. This class of accomplishments, therefore, must be trusted entirely to the blind, but sure testimony of taste and sentiment; and must be considered as a part of ethics, left by nature to baffle all the pride of philosophy, and make her sensible of her narrow boundaries and slender acquisitions.
But besides all the pleasing qualities whose appeal we can explain to some degree, something mysterious and inexplicable remains. It gives the observer immediate pleasure, but the observer cannot claim to know how, why, or for what reason. Some men have more manner, grace, ease, refinement, and a certain indefinable quality than others. These qualities are very different from physical beauty and good looks, yet they win our affection almost as quickly and powerfully. Although this manner is discussed chiefly in relation to attraction between the sexes, where its hidden magic is easily explained, it surely plays a large part in all our judgments of character. It also makes up a considerable part of a person's merit. We must therefore rely entirely on the blind but reliable testimony of taste and feeling in judging these accomplishments. We must regard them as part of ethics that nature has left to confound philosophy's pride and make it aware of its narrow limits and modest achievements.
We approve of another, because of his wit, politeness, modesty, decency, or any agreeable quality which he possesses; although he be not of our acquaintance, nor has ever given us any entertainment, by means of these accomplishments. The idea, which we form of their effect on his acquaintance, has an agreeable influence on our imagination, and gives us the sentiment of approbation. This principle enters into all the judgements which we form concerning manners and characters.
We approve of someone because of their wit, politeness, modesty, decency, or any other pleasing quality they possess. We may do so even though we do not know them and have never enjoyed these qualities ourselves. The thought of how their qualities affect the people who know them pleases our imagination and gives us a feeling of approval. This principle enters into all our judgments about manners and character.