This leads us to remark, in passing, that in this country we are not sufficiently instructed in the Art of Good Manners.  We are rather gruff, and sometimes unapproachable.  Manners do not make the man, as the proverb alleges; but manners make the man much more agreeable.  A man may be noble in his heart, true in his dealings, virtuous in his conduct, and yet unmannerly.  Suavity of disposition and gentleness of manners give the finish to the true gentleman.

By Good Manners we do not mean Etiquette.  This is only a conventional set of rules adopted by what is called “good society;” and many of the rules of etiquette are of the essence of rudeness.  Etiquette does not permit genteel people to recognize in the streets a man with a shabby coat though he be their brother.  Etiquette is a liar in its “not at home,”—­ordered to be told by servants to callers at inconvenient seasons.

Good manners include many requisites; but they chiefly consist in politeness, courtesy, and kindness.  They cannot be taught by rule, but they may be taught by example.  It has been said that politeness is the art of showing men, by external signs, the internal regard we have for them.  But a man may be perfectly polite to another, without necessarily having any regard for him.  Good manners are neither more nor less than beautiful behaviour.  It has been well said that “a beautiful form is better than a beautiful face, and a beautiful behaviour is better than a beautiful form; it gives a higher pleasure than statues or pictures; it is the finest of the fine arts.”

Manner is the ornament of action; indeed a good action, without a good manner of doing it, is stripped of half its value.  A poor fellow gets into difficulties, and solicits help of a friend.  He obtains it, but it is with a “There-take that; but I don’t like lending.”  The help is given with a kind of kick, and is scarcely accepted as a favour.  The manner of the giving long rankles in the mind of the acceptor.  Thus good manners mean kind manners,—­benevolence being the preponderating element in all kinds of pleasant intercourse between human beings.

A story is told of a poor soldier having one day called at the shop of a hairdresser, who was busy with his customers, and asked relief,—­stating that he had stayed beyond his leave of absence, and unless he could get a lift on the coach, fatigue and severe punishment awaited him.  The hairdresser listened to his story respectfully, and gave him a guinea.  “God bless you, sir!” exclaimed the soldier, astonished at the amount.  “How can I repay you?  I have nothing in the world but this”—­pulling out a dirty piece of paper from his pocket; “it is a receipt for making blacking; it is the best that was ever seen; many a half-guinea I have had for it from the officers, and many bottles I have sold; may you be able to get something for it to repay you for your kindness to the poor soldier.”  Oddly enough, that dirty piece of paper proved worth half a million of money to the hairdresser.  It was no less than the receipt for the famous Day and Martin’s blacking; the hairdresser being the late wealthy Mr. Day, whose manufactory is one of the notabilities of the metropolis.