A Gentleman Departed

A close friend and fellow tennis player, Bill Rathbun, passed away last night, and reflecting on his life and death, I found myself repeatedly defining him as a "gentleman." 

Unfortunately, that term requires some explanation. For some it refers to class, as in "English Gentleman" or "Gentleman Farmer." For others, it refers to a certain suavity  as exemplified by the James Bond character.

Bill Rathbun was neither.

I was then reminded of Cardinal John Henry Newman's description of a "true gentleman." He wrote:

"The true gentleman in like manner carefully avoids whatever may cause ajar 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 ever 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 from the blunder. " This indeed describes my friend, Bill. May he rest in peace, the peace he has earned. [The above quotation is taken from "The Idea of a University," 1852.]