I remember an instance of such a failure which occurred many years ago in a distant European capital. The English residents had long been without a chaplain, and the arrival of an English clergyman was hailed with such enthusiasm that a deputation at once attended to him and offered him the post, which he accepted. We soon found that our course was a mistaken one. Slovenly in his dress, dirty in his habits, and quite ignorant of the commonest rules of politeness, our new chaplain would have brought little credit to the English hierarchy even had his manners been retiring and unobtrusive. They were precisely the reverse. By dint of cringing, flattery, and a readiness to serve in no matter what undertaking, he pushed himself, by virtue of his new position, into some of the highest circles.
One evening it happened that the new chaplain and the Pope's nuncio were both at the same evening party. The pontifical legate went out but little, and the lady of the house had used great exertions to procure his presence. The contrast between the representatives of the two Churches was trying for us. The cardinal, grave, dignified, and courtly, received the advances of those who were introduced to him as his due. The chaplain, in a frayed and dirty shirt, with holes in his boots and ill-combed hair, was sneaking up to the grandees and doing his best to gain their attention by smiles and flattery. He had heard somewhere that no introductions were needed in Continental salons, and you can imagine our surprise when we saw him slide sideways up to the red-stockinged nuncio, tap him familiarly on the shoulder, and with a full grin exclaim, “Well, my Lord, how did you leave the Pope?” The cardinal bowed and smiled, but could not conceal his astonishment. The familiarity was not indeed a crime, but it proved that the offender was not fit for the society into which he had pushed himself ; and the legate, glad to have a story against the Protestants, made the most of it, and repeated it until the new chaplain found his entree to the drawing-rooms of the great was generally cancelled.
From one of our guides, we have an embarrassing incident involving an English clergyman who was appointed chaplain in a Continental city. Initially welcomed with enthusiasm, he soon proved to be a poor choice due to his lack of manners. In spite of this, he managed to ingratiate himself into high society through flattery and opportunism. But his downfall finally arrived at an elite gathering where he rudely approached the Pope’s nuncio, addressing him in an overly familiar manner. The cardinal responded politely, but the damage was done. The incident, widely repeated, damaged the chaplain’s reputation, leading to his exclusion from the most prestigious social circles. The story contains an important lesson: be mindful of decorum, and the consequences of failing to observe it.
Etiquette and professional conduct never stopped being essential social tools. We live in a world that is increasingly interconnected, in which first impressions happen frequently and decisively. Our clergyman’s missteps serve as a cautionary example of how easily one's reputation can be damaged by inappropriate behavior. Superficial charm is unsustainable without genuine respect for social norms. Moreover, even in contemporary settings, failing to observe decorum can lead to exclusion from desired circles.
This story appears in The Habits of Good Society, published in 1859.
Clergymen, by the way, are religious leaders who conduct worship services and offer spiritual guidance to their communities. The term is not exclusively reserved for Christian leaders. Clergymen may otherwise be ministers, rabbis, priests, or imams, depending on their religious tradition.