A Gentleman

The English like to boast that the concept of the gentleman is a uniquely English ideal. This ideal is exceedingly simple. Being a gentleman is more a state of being than an activity: a passive, receptive attitude toward life. He has no professional interests. He may have hobbies or indulge in certain eccentricities, but he cannot engage in any form of occupation. The English gentleman does not concern himself with sordid matters such as earning a living. In fact, he must demonstrate that, at least up to his grandparents, no close relatives were ever involved in trade. Ideally, he should attend a few—not too many—schools in his youth, preferably Eton or Harrow. It is essential that he attended university at Oxford or Cambridge. He must know how to ride, hunt, and drive a carriage. It is proper that he has relatives in the army and navy, and there should be at least one relative in the diplomatic service. It is vital that he is a member of a club, important that he belongs to the Conservative Party, and desirable that his views align with those of the Morning Post. If he can endure the Riviera during the winter and English country estates during the autumn months, it is a valuable, though not indispensable, element of his temperament. These are the general foundations on which the gentleman's character is built.

However, he also possesses certain emotional and intellectual traits. His favorite authors are Surtees and Kipling. He deeply despises the moral decay of the modern novel. He has a fine appreciation for the healthy, refined music of Gilbert and Sullivan but struggles to form a deeper connection with the genius of Beethoven or Mozart. He knows how to arrive fashionably late to the opera and only attends the theatre for entertainment purposes. His trips to Paris are accompanied by the thrilling sensation of flirting with sin, yet he is entirely incapable of mastering enough French or German to engage in intelligible conversation. He has some proficiency in every sport because he believes that this is the secret to England's national greatness, but he must not excel too much in any one of them, as he is convinced that professionalism is the death of true sportsmanship. Under no circumstances can he be a teetotaler, unless ordered by a doctor.

He is completely ignorant of economics and knows even less about the political conditions of foreign nations. Bolshevism, in his eyes, is equivalent to original sin. He is not a freethinker, but neither is he overly devout, as this could lead to religious intolerance. He has a clear understanding of the historical mission of the British Empire and knows that its authority in the Far East can only be maintained through a policy of strong-handed leadership. As a guest, he either remains silent or steers the conversation in a way that reveals he is well-acquainted with the latest gossip while avoiding the appearance of dangerous expertise in specialized topics. He regards Americans as incorrigible materialists, but if he marries an American woman, he ensures she comes from a wealthy family accepted in London's best circles. It doesn't hurt if he knows something about gardening. He can be a director of a joint-stock company, provided he is not too well-versed in the company's business affairs. He finds giving lectures burdensome, and eloquence is simply beyond him. He instinctively understands the moral value of good appearance and knows full well that a black tie worn with a tailcoat is a sign of low origin. Finally, when traveling the world, he spares himself the awkward psychological changes that typically accompany a broadened worldview.

He is devoted to the solidarity expected of his class. He commands with the utmost politeness. He is patient with almost everyone except Hindus, socialists, trade union leaders, and poachers. He is brave under all circumstances. He is chivalrous and respectful—toward women of his own class. While he rarely boasts of his faults, he utterly abhors flaunting his virtues. He may forget his tailor's bills but always pays his gambling debts promptly. He holds members of the royal family, bishops, and ministers from his own party in deep reverence. He never pushes his demands too far and is modest enough about his own intelligence to avoid holding long-term opinions. Though he often grumbles, he is always ready to laugh at himself; and no one is better at extricating himself brilliantly from dangerous situations. He delights in power, and since he does not know how to make money, bribery is difficult. Having received a classical education, he knows a little Latin and has some grasp of Greek.

This is the type of man who, with the help of lawyers, governed England up until 1927. Serious doubts about his superiority only began to arise after the World War. The English people, whose inherent traits include respect for authority and tradition, have preserved the privileges of wealth and rank almost intact. The average Englishman still admires the class that does not need to work for a living; under its leadership, he feels safe and respected.

Harold J. Laski "A gentleman alkonya", in Európai műhely I.", szerk. Hamvas Béla, Pannónia könyvek