I fear this post will garner a goose-egg. But here goes, anyway:

It arises from reading RfM today (and everyday, really); on Stay Mutt's thoughts on temperament and our Mormon friends and relatives; RJ quoting John Donne; robertb on grief; Beth on our late friend FlattopSF/xyz and the entire thread, actually; and about another half dozen or so posts.


It's been a long while since I've submitted myself to the opinion of RfMers. I see others do it but I have refrained, mostly because I lack the talent for writing. It's one thing to submit an idea and another to submit yourself. But I have a sincere wish to know the opinion of RfMers on what I've taken to be a kind of motto for how to be post-LDSinc.

Portions of the following comes to mind every single time I visit RfM. We are fond of telling each other how to act and what to think and feel. The following is my personal guideline to how to think, act and feel. It will no doubt come off as extremely antiquated and perhaps severely out of step with our times. But that's how I am, also.

What I'm wondering is what you all think is appropriate and inappropriate, useful and not useful, right and wrong, moral and immoral, ethical and unethical, admirable and deplorable, etc. in the following. I've used it as a creed since leaving Mormonism and still do today. It is in the back of mind while I live and interact IRL as it is in the back of my mind when I read RfM and other similar sites, as well as when I read books and view TV and film. It's perhaps my personal article of faith and has helped my beyond the parochialism of LDSinc. Perhaps the following is no less parochial. You tell me. Don't hold back, I'm not easily offended.

(I'd also be curious to know if the following applies equally to a gentlewoman.)



Definition of a Gentleman

"Hence it is, that it is almost a definition of a gentleman, to say he is one who never inflicts pain. This description is both refined and , as far as it goes, accurate. He is mainly occupied in merely removing the obstacles which hinder the free and unembarrassed action of those about him; and he concurs with their movements rather than takes the initiative himself. His benefits may be considered as parallel to what are called comforts or conveniences in arrangements of a personal nature: like an easy chair to a good fire, which do their part in dispelling cold and fatigue, though nature provides both means of rest and animal heat without them. The true gentleman in like manner carefully avoids whatever may cause a jar or a jolt in the minds of those with whom he is cast; --all clashing of opinion, or collision of feeling, all restraint, or suspicion, or gloom, or resentment; his great concern being to make every one at their ease and at home. He has his eyes on all his company; he is tender towards the bashful, gentle towards the distant, and merciful towards the absurd; he can recollect to whom he is speaking; he guards against unseasonable allusions, or topics which may irritate; he is seldom prominent in conversation, and never wearisome. He makes light of favours while he does them, and seems to be receiving when he is conferring. He never speaks of himself except when compelled, never defends himself by a mere retort, he has no ears for slander or gossip, is scrupulous in imputing motives to those who interfere with him, and interprets everything for the best. He is never mean or little in his disputes, never takes unfair advantage, never mistakes personalities or sharp sayings for arguments, or insinuates evil which he dare not say out. From a long-sighted prudence, he observes the maxim of the ancient sage, that we should eve conduct ourselves towards our enemy as if he were one day to be our friend. He has too much good sense to be affronted at insults, he is too well employed to remember injuries, and too indolent to bear malice. He is patient, forbearing, and resigned, on philosophical principles; he submits to pain, because it is inevitable, to bereavement, because it is irreparable, and to death, because it is his destiny. If he engages in controversy of any kind, his disciplined intellect preserves him form the blundering discourtesy of better, though less educated minds; who, like blunt weapons, tear and hack instead of cutting clean, who mistake the point in argument, waste their strength on trifles, misconceive their adversary, and leave the question or involved than they find it. He may be right or wrong in his opinion, but he is too clear-headed to be unjust; he is as simple as he is forcible, and as brief as he is decisive."

--John Henry Newman--
--Idea of a University--


Human, bracing for a goose-egg...

"Hence it is, that it is almost a definition of a gentleman, to say he is one who never inflicts pain."

I don't agree with this as an absolute. I think there are times when certain deserving individuals or groups need a great deal of pain rained down upon them.

But I understand completely about having then to defend my position on what constitutes "deserving."

Because that would mostly include individuals or groups who inflict pain.

I guess life makes hypocrites of us all.

I always wondered why Willoughby deserved a duel rather than an old fashioned horse-whipping in the public street.

I'm sure Colonel Brandon found his gentlemanliness rather inconvenient on at least a few occasions.

I guess it would come to a question of whether one were satisfying one's self or Justice.

And that just feels so good.

This description reminds me of the psychologist with whom I spent most time in training. A good, loving, and wise man who could correct what I was doing and make me feel glad about it and who is generous to a fault.

P.S. On my part, I apologize for helping ruin your goose egg prophecy. :-)



Edited 2 time(s). Last edit at 03/01/2013 03:48AM by robertb.

You have no idea how much of the passage I see in you. True gentlemen never do.

He's the most interesting man in the world.

That pretty much describes a brother-in-law of mine. A truly humble, kind, decent man with a wonderful sense of humor. He's so damned likeable! Now, if he just weren't so...Mormon. Well, you can't have it both ways.

So anyways, yeah, I can't find much to argue with in that description, even if it is a bit antiquated as you said.

Ya, a bit antiquated. I love the rhythm, however. Newman was one of the great English prose stylists along with Ruskin and Pater.

Really, at the heart of the passage seems to lay 1Cor:13.

What absolutely is antiquated is the belief that the purpose of a University education was to make a gentleman of you, to literally civilize you. That would almost be a criminal notion today.