We must not fail also to notice the effect of this life upon one’s manners and bearing.  True politeness comes from a life founded upon this great principle, and from this alone.  This gives the true gentleman,—­gentle-man,—­a man gentle, kind, loving, courteous from nature.  Such a one can’t have anything but true politeness, can’t be anything but a gentle-man; for one can’t truly be anything but himself.  So the one always intent upon and thinking of self cannot be the true gentleman, notwithstanding the artful contrivances and studied efforts to appear so, but which so generally reveal his own shallowness and artificiality, and disgust all with whom he comes in contact.

I sometimes meet a person who, when introduced, will go through a series of stiff, cold, and angular movements, the knee at such a bend, the foot at such an angle, the back with such a bend or hump,—­much less pleasant to see than that of a camel or a dromedary, for with these it is natural,—­so that I have found myself almost thinking, Poor fellow, I wonder what the trouble is, whether he will get over it all right.  It is so very evident that he all the time has his mind upon himself, wondering whether or not he is getting everything just right.  What a relief to turn from such a one to one who, instead of thinking always of self, has continually in mind the ease and comfort and pleasure he can give to others, who, in other words, is the true gentle-man, and with whom true politeness is natural; for one’s every act is born of his thoughts.

It is said that there was no truer gentleman in all Scotland than Robert Burns.  And yet he was a farmer all his life, and had never been away from his native little rural village into a city until near the close of his life, when, taking the manuscripts that for some time had been accumulating in the drawer of his writing-table up to Edinburgh, he captivated the hearts of all in the capital.  Without studied contrivances, he was the true gentleman, and true politeness was his, because his life was founded upon the principle that continually brought from his pen lines such as:—­

    “It’s coming yet, for a’ that,
    That man to man, the warld o’er,
    Shall brothers be for a’ that!”

And under the influence of this principle, he was a gentleman by nature, and one of nature’s noblemen, without ever thinking whether he was or not, as he who is truly such never needs to and never does.

And then recall the large-hearted Ben Franklin, when sent to the French court.  In his plain gray clothes, unassuming and entirely forgetful of himself, how he captured the hearts of all, of even the giddy society ladies, and how he became and remained while there the centre of attraction in that gay capital!  His politeness, his manners, all the result of that great, kind, loving, and helpful nature which made others feel that it was they he was devoting himself to and not himself.