Civility is the buzzword of the day, especially in the political arena. We have certainly come a long way from the example our Founding Fathers set as they worked to bring this nation together.
Our first president was known to have quite a temper. But Gouverneur Morris, one of his friends and political contemporaries, described him as having the “tumultuous passions that accompany greatness,” but also noted that his passions were “controlled by his stronger mind.”
He worked on controlling his temper by copying a translated version of a French book of etiquette, and he routinely practiced these principles in his political and social life. They included the following which he called his Rules of Civility:
Read no letters, books, or papers in company unless there is a necessity for doing so in which case you must ask leave. Come not near the books or writings of anyone so as to read them unasked, also look not nigh when another is writing a letter. (Hmmm, so that’s how he would have handled cell phone calls, or looking over the shoulder of someone working on their computer.)
Wherein you reprove another be unblamable yourself, for example is more prevalent than precept.
Mock not nor jest at anything of importance; break no jests that are sharp or biting, and if you deliver anything witty or pleasant, abstain from laughing thereat yourself.
Associate yourself with men of good quality if you esteem your own reputation, for it is better to be alone than in bad company.
Gaze not on the marks or blemishes of others, and ask not how they came. Be not immodest in urging your friend to discover a secret. What you speak in secret to your friend, deliver not before others. Be not apt to relate news if you know not the truth thereof. In discoursing of things you have heard, name not your author always. Be not hasty to believe flying reports to the disparagement of anyone.
Be not angry at table, whatever happens, and if you have reason to be so show it not, put on a cheerful countenance, especially if there be strangers, for good humor makes one dish a feast.
Play not the peacock, looking everywhere about you to see if you be well decked, if your shoes fit well, if your stockings set neatly and clothes handsomely.
Utter not base and frivolous thing amongst grown and learned men, nor very difficult questions or subjects amongst the ignorant, nor things hard to be believed.
Speak not of doleful things in time of mirth nor at the table; speak not of melancholy things, as death and wounds; and if others mention them, change the subject if you can. Tell not your dreams but to your intimate friends.
If two contend together, take not the part of either unconstrained, and be not obstinate in your opinion; in things indifferent be of the major side.
When another speaks, be attentive yourself, and disturb not the audience. If any hesitate in his words, help him not, nor prompt him without being desired; interrupt him not, nor answer him till his speech be ended.
Turn not your back to others, especially in speaking; jog not the table or desk on which another reads or writes, lean not on anyone.
When you deliver a matter, do it without passion and indiscretion, however mean the person may be you do it to.
Undertake not what you cannot perform; but be careful to keep your promise.
Labor to keep alive in your breast that little spark of celestial fire called conscience.
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