Half the unpopularity of people proceeds from a disagreeable manner; and though we may be aware of the good qualities of persons who have this defect, we cannot conceal from ourselves that it must always originate in a want of the desire to please—­a want, the evidence of which cannot fail to wound the self-love of those who detect, and indispose them towards those who betray it.  By a disagreeable manner I do not mean the awkwardness often arising from timidity, or the too great familiarity originating in untutored good nature:  but I refer to a superciliousness, or coldness, that marks a sense of superiority; or to a habit of contradiction, that renders society what it should never be—­an arena of debate.

How injudicious are those who defend their absent friends, when accused of having disagreeable manners, by saying, as I have often heard persons say—­“I assure you that he or she can be very agreeable with those he or she likes:”  an assertion which, by implying that the person accused did not like those who complained of the bad manner, converts them from simple disapprovers into something approaching to enemies.

I had once occasion to notice the fine tact of a friend of mine, who, hearing a person he greatly esteemed censured for his disagreeable manner, answered,

“Yes, it is very true:  with a thousand good qualities his manner is very objectionable, even with those he likes best:  it is his misfortune, and he cannot help it; but those who know him well will pardon it.”

This candid admission of what could not be refuted, checked all further censure at the moment, whereas an injudicious defence would have lengthened it; and I heard some of the individuals then present assert, a few days subsequently, that Lord ——­ was not, after all, by any means to be disliked:  for that his manners were equally objectionable even with his most esteemed friends, and consequently meant nothing uncivil to strangers.

I tried this soothing system the other day in defence of ——­, when a whole circle were attacking him for his rude habit of contradicting, by asserting, with a grave face, that he only contradicted those whose talents he suspected, in order that he might draw them out in discussion.

——­ came in soon after, and it was positively amusing to observe how much better people bore his contradiction.  Madame ——­ only smiled when, having asserted that it was a remarkably fine day, he declared it to be abominable.  The Duc de ——­ looked gracious when, having repeated some political news, ——­ said he could prove the contrary to be the fact; and the Comtesse de ——­ looked archly round when, having extravagantly praised a new novel, he pronounced that it was the worst of all the bad ones of the author.

——­ will become a popular man, and have to thank me for it.  How angry would he be if he knew the service I have rendered him, and how quickly would he contradict all I said in his favour! ——­ reminds me of the Englishman of whom it was said, that so great was his love of contradiction, that when the hour of the night and state of the weather were announced by the watchman beneath his window, he used to get out of bed and raise both his casement and his voice to protest against the accuracy of the statement.