has to do crucially with a butler's ability not to abandon the professional

being he inhabits. Lesser butlers will abandon their professional being for the

private one at the least provocation. For such persons, being a butler is like

playing some pantomime role; a small push, a slight stumble, and the facade will

drop off to reveal the actor underneath. The great butlers are great by virtue

of their ability to inhabit their professional role and inhabit it to the

utmost; they will not be shaken out by external events, however surprising,

alarming or vexing. They wear their professionalism as a decent gentleman will

wear his suit: he will not let ruffians or circumstance tear it off him in the

public gaze; he will discard it when, and only when, he wills to do so, and this

will invariably be when he is entirely alone. It is, as I say, a matter of

'dignity'.

 

It is sometimes said that butlers only truly exist in England. Other countries,

whatever title is actually used, have only manservants. I tend to believe this

is true.

 

Continentals are unable to be butlers because they are as a breed incapable of

the emotional restraint which only the English race are capable of. Continentals

- and by and large the Celts, as you will no doubt agree - are as a rule unable

to control themselves in moments of strong emotion, and are thus unable to

maintain a professional demeanour other than in the least challenging of

situations. If I may return to my earlier metaphor - you will excuse my putting

it so coarsely - they are like a man who will, at the slightest provocation,

tear off his suit and his shirt and run about screaming. In a word, 'dignity' is