Politeness decrees that you must listen to be kind; intelligence

When Letitia Baldrige wrote, “Politeness decrees that you must listen to be kind; intelligence decrees that you must listen to learn,” she spoke as one who understood that the art of listening is among the highest forms of wisdom. Her words shimmer with both grace and truth, for they bridge the outer courtesy of manners and the inner discipline of the mind. In an age where people speak endlessly but hear so little, her teaching stands as a quiet rebuke — and a radiant call to the forgotten virtue of attention. To listen, she reminds us, is not merely to wait for one’s turn to speak, but to open one’s soul to another’s meaning.

Letitia Baldrige, known as the “First Lady of Manners,” served as the social secretary to Jacqueline Kennedy and became one of the great voices of etiquette and refinement in the twentieth century. Yet her wisdom was never shallow or ornamental. Beneath her lessons in civility ran a deeper current — a belief that true politeness is not about appearances, but about empathy; not about rule-following, but about understanding. Her words in this quote reveal that there are two levels of listening: one of kindness, and one of intelligence. The first opens the heart; the second opens the mind. Both are essential, but only together do they create a truly noble soul.

Politeness, as Baldrige describes, “decrees that you must listen to be kind.” To listen with kindness is to give the gift of attention — to acknowledge that another’s words have worth, that their thoughts deserve space. It is an act of respect, an offering of time and presence. This kind of listening builds peace in households, trust in friendships, and harmony among strangers. It is the listening of compassion — the stillness that heals hearts. For in every conversation, there are battles unseen; to listen kindly is to lower the weapon of self and raise the banner of humanity.

Yet intelligence demands a deeper listening — one not only of manners, but of mastery. “You must listen to learn,” Baldrige says. Here she speaks to the disciplined mind, the seeker of truth. The wise do not listen merely to respond; they listen to discover. They understand that every person, however humble, carries a piece of the world’s knowledge. Even a fool, said the philosopher Seneca, may offer a lesson — if only in what not to do. This kind of listening is the foundation of all growth, for wisdom enters not through the mouth, but through the ear. Those who truly listen do not merely gather information — they gather understanding.

History offers many examples of this sacred art. Consider Abraham Lincoln, who during the storms of his presidency surrounded himself with rivals — men who opposed him, argued with him, and tested him. Yet he listened. He listened not out of politeness, but from intelligence — to learn what he did not yet know, to understand the hearts of his people, to weigh the truth hidden beneath the noise. His ability to listen deeply gave him the strength to unite a divided nation. It is said that when his advisors spoke, he often remained silent for long moments, as if absorbing not just their words, but the wisdom between them. From such listening came decisions that shaped the destiny of millions.

The ancients too knew this virtue. In the Tao Te Ching, it is written: “The wise man hears what is not spoken.” The philosopher Plato taught that dialogue is the road to enlightenment — but only if one listens as much as one speaks. For truth, like a seed, grows only in the soil of silence. The proud, who interrupt and assume, forever wander in ignorance; but the humble listener, who opens both heart and mind, gathers the harvest of wisdom.

Therefore, learn this: to listen is both courtesy and power. Listen with kindness when you wish to show love; listen with intelligence when you wish to gain knowledge. In conversation, seek not victory, but understanding. When others speak, do not prepare your reply — prepare your soul to receive their meaning. In this way, you will become both gracious and wise. For as Letitia Baldrige teaches, the measure of one’s character is not found in how one speaks, but in how one listens — with compassion, with curiosity, and with the quiet dignity of one who knows that every voice, if heard rightly, has something to teach.

So, my child, let your ears become your greatest teachers. In every exchange, listen twice: first with the heart, to be kind, and then with the mind, to be wise. Speak less, hear more. For in the stillness between words lies the secret language of truth — and only the listener, humble and attentive, can understand it.