I

The "old school" of manners has fallen into disrepute. Sir Charles
Grandison is a comical rather than a courtly figure to this generation; and
the man whose manners may be described as Grandisonian is usually called
a pompous and grandiloquent old prig. Certainly the elaborately dressed
gentleman speaking to a lady only with polished courtesy of phrase, and
avoiding in her presence all coarse words and acts, handing her in the
minuet with inexpressible grace and deference, and showing an exquisite
homage in every motion, was a very different figure from the gentleman in a
shooting-jacket or morning sack "chaffing" a lady with the freshest slang,
and smoking in her face. They are undeniably different, and the later
figure is wholly free from Grandisonian elegance and elaboration. But is he
much more truly a gentleman? Is he our Sidney, our Chevalier Bayard, our
Admirable Crichton? Is that refined consideration and gentle deference,
which is the flower of courtesy, an old-fashioned folly?

The overwrought politeness is made very ridiculous upon the stage, and
Richardson is undoubtedly hard reading for the general consumer of novels.
It is true, also, that fine morals do not always go with fine manners, and
that Lovelace had a fascination of address which John Knox lacked. The
chaff and slang of the Bayard of to-day are at least decent, and his morals
probably purer than those of the courtly and punctilious old Sir Roger
de Coverleys. Possibly; but it has been wisely said that hypocrisy is the
homage paid by vice to virtue. The good manners of a bad man are a rich
dress upon a diseased body. They are the graceful form of a vase full of
dirty water. The liquid may be poisonous, but the vessel is beautiful.
Some of the worst Lotharios in the world have a personal charm which is
irresistible. Many a stately compliment was paid by a graciously bowing