STUDIES AND CONDUCT.

CONVERSATION-AS A PART OF EDUCATION.

LORD BACON. ESSAY.-ON DISCOURSE.

SOME in their discourse desire rather commendation of wit, in being able to hold all arguments, than of judgment, in discerning what is true, as if it were a praise to know what might be said, and not what should be thought. Some have certain common places and themes wherein they are good, and want variety; which kind of poverty is for the most part tedious, and when it is once perceived ridiculous. The honorablest part of the talk is to give the occasion, and again to moderate and pass to somewhat else, for then a man leads the dance. It is good in discourse and speech of conversation to vary and intermingle speech of the present occasion with arguments, tales with reasons, asking of questions with telling of opinions, and jest with earnest, for it is a dull thing to tire, and as we say now, to jade (over-ride or drive) anything too far. As for jest, there be certain things which ought to be privileged from it-namely: religion, matters of state, great persons, any man's present business of importance, and any case that deserveth pity; yet there be some that think their wits have been asleep except they dart out somewhat that is piquant, and to the quick-that is a vein which would be bridled

“Parce puer stimulus, et fortius utere loris."

(Boy, spare the spur, and more tightly hold the reins.—Ovid Met. ii. 127). And, generally, men ought to find the difference between saltness and bitterness. Certainly, he that hath a satirical vein as he maketh others afraid of his wit, so he had need be afraid of other's memory. He that questioneth much shall learn much, and content much, but especially if he apply his questions to the skill of the persons whom he asketh, for he shall give them occasion to please themselves in speaking, and himself shall continually gather knowledge; but let his questions not be troublesome, for that is fit for a poser (over nice examiner), and let him be sure to leave other men their turns to speak; nay, if there be any that would reign, and take up all the time, let him find means to take them off, and bring

others on, as musicians used to do with those that dance too long galliards (merry measure). If you dissemble, sometimes your knowledge of that (that which) you are thought to know, you shall be thought another time to know that you know not. Speech of man's self ought to be seldom, and well-chosen. I knew one was wont to say in scorn, "He must needs be a wise man, he speaks so much of himself," and there is but one case wherein a man may commend himself with a good grace, and that is in commending virtue in another, especially if it be a virtue whereunto himself pretendeth (lay claim to). Speech of touch (particular application) towards others should be sparingly used, for discourse ought to be as a field, without coming home to any man. I knew two noblemen of the west part of England, whereof the one was given to scoff, but kept ever royal cheer in his house; the other would ask of those that had been at the other's table, "Tell truly was there never a flout (jeer) or dry blow given?" To which the guest would answer "Such and such a thing passed." The lord would say, "I thought he would mar a good dinner." Discretion of speech is more than eloquence, and to speak agreeably (in a manner suited) to him with whom we deal, is more than to speak in good words and in good order. A good continued speech, without a good speech of interlocution, shows slowness, and a good reply, or second speech, without a good settled speech, showeth shallowness and weakness. As we see

in beasts, that those that are weakest in the course are yet nimblest in the turn, as it is betwixt the greyhound and the hare. To use too many circumstances (non-essential particulars) ere one come to the matter is wearisome; to use none at all is blunt.

Archbishop Whately in his annotations to the above Essay remarks:

Among the many just and admirable remarks in this essay on Discourse," Bacon does not notice the distinction-which is an important one-between those who speak because they wish to say something, and those who speak because they have something to say: that is, between those who are aiming at displaying their own knowledge or ability, and those who speak from fulness of matter, and are thinking only of the matter, and not of themselves and the opinion that will be formed of them. This latter Bishop Butler calls (in reference to writings) "a man's writing with simplicity and in earnest." It is curious to observe how much more agreeable is even inferior conversation of this latter description, and how it is preferred by many-they know not whywho are not accustomed to analyse their own feelings, or to enquire why they like or dislike.

Something nearly coinciding with the above distinction, is that which some draw between an "unconscious" and a "conscious" manner, only that the latter extends to persons who are not courting applause, but anxiously guarding

against censure. By a "conscious" manner is meant, in short, a continued thought about oneself, and about what the company will think of us. The continued effort and watchful care on the part of the speaker, either to obtaiu approbation, or at least to avoid disapprobation, always communicates itself in a certain degree to the hearers.

Some draw a distinction again, akin to the above, between the desire to please and the desire to give pleasure; meaning by the former an anxiety to obtain for yourself the good opinion of those you converse with, and by the other, the wish to gratify them.

Aristotle, again draws the distinction between the Eiron and the Bomolochus -that the former seems to throw out his wit for his own amusement, and the other for that of the company. It is this latter, however, that is really the "conscious" speaker, because he is evidently seeking to obtain credit as a wit by his diversion of the company. The word seems nearly to answer to what we call a "wag." The other is letting out of his good things merely from his own fulness.

When that which has been called "consciousness" is combined with great timidity, it constitutes what we call "shyness," a thing disagreeable to others, and a most intense torture to the subject of it.

There are many (otherwise) sensible people who seek to cure a young person of that very common complaint by exhorting him not to be shy,-telling him what an awkward appearance it has,—and that it prevents his doing himself justice, &c. All which is manifestly pouring oil on the fire to quench it. For, the very cause of shyness is an over-anxiety as to what people are thinking of you; a morbid attention to your own appearance. The course, therefore, that ought to be pursued is exactly the reverse. The sufferer should be exhorted to think as little as possible about himself, and the opinion formed of him-to be assured that most of the company do not trouble their heads about him—and to harden him against any impertinent criticisms that may be supposed to be going on—taking care only to do what is right, leaving others to think and say what they will.

And the more intensely occupied any one is with the subject matter of what he is saying, the business itself that he is engaged in, the less will his thoughts be turned on himself, and what others think of him.

DEAN SWIFT. HINTS TOWARD AN ESSAY ON CONVERSATION.

I HAVE observed few obvious subjects to have been so seldom, or at least so slightly, handled as this; and indeed I know few so difficult to be treated as it ought, nor yet upon which there seems so much to be said.

Most things pursued by men for the happiness of public or private life, our wit or folly have so refined, that they seldom subsist but in idea; a true friend, a good marriage, a perfect form of government, with some others, require so many ingredients, so good in their several kinds, and so much niceness in mixing them, that for some thousands of years men have despaired of reducing their schemes to perfection: but in conversation it is, or might be, otherwise; for here we are only to avoid a multitude of errors, which, although a matter of some difficulty, may be in every man's power, for want of which it remains as mere an idea as the other. Therefore it seems to me, that the truest way to understand conversation, is to know the faults and errors to which it is subject, and from

thence every man to form maxims to himself whereby it may be regulated, because it requires few talents to which most men are not born, or at least may not acquire, without any great genius or study. For nature has left every man a capacity of being agreeable, though not of shining in company; and there are a hundred men sufficiently qualified for both, who, by a very few faults that they might correct in half an hour, are not so much as tolerable.

I was prompted to write my thoughts upon this subject by mere indignation, to reflect that so useful and innocent a pleasure, so fitted for every period and condition of life, and so much in all men's power, should be so much neglected and abused.

And in this discourse it will be necessary to note those errors that are obvious, as well as others which are seldomer observed, since there are few so obvious, or acknowledged, into which most men, some time or other, are not apt to run. For instance: nothing is more generally exploded than the folly of talking too much; yet I rarely remember to have seen five people together, where some one among them has not been predominant in that kind, to the great constraint and disgust of all the rest. But among such as deal in multitudes of words, none are comparable to the sober deliberate talker, who proceeds with much thought and caution, makes his preface, branches out into several digressions, finds a hint that puts him in mind of another story, which he promises to tell you when this is done; comes back regularly to his subject, cannot readily call to mind some person's name, holding his head, complains of his memory; the whole company all this while in suspense; at length says, it is no matter, and so goes on. And, to crown the business, it perhaps proves at last a story the company has heard fifty times before; or, at best, some insipid adventure of the relater.

Another general fault in conversation is that of those who affect to talk of themselves some, without any ceremony, will run over the history of their lives; will relate the annals of their diseases, with the several symptoms and circumstances of them; will enumerate the hardships and injustice they have suffered in court, in parliament, in love, or in law. Others are more dexterous, and with great art will lie on the watch to hook in their own praise: they will call a witness to remember they always foretold what would happen in such a case, but none would believe them; they advised such a man from the beginning, and told him the consequences, just as they happened; but he would have his own way. Others make a vanity of telling their faults; they are the strangest men in the world, they cannot dissemble; they own it is a folly; they have lost abundance of advantages by it, but if you would give them the world, they cannot help it; there is something in their nature that abhors insincerity and constraint; with many other insufferable topics of the same altitude.

Of such mighty importance every man is to himself, and ready to think he is so to others; without once making this easy and obvious reflection, that his affairs can have no more weight with other men, then theirs have with him; and how little that is, he is sensible enough.

Where a company has met, I often have observed two persons discover, by some accident, that they were bred together at the same school or university; after which the rest are condemned to silence, and to listen while these two are refreshing each other's memory, with the arch tricks and passages of themselves and their comrades.

I know a great officer of the army who will sit for some time with a supercil

ious and impatient silence, full of anger and contempt for those who are talking; at length of a sudden, demanding audience, decide the matter in a short dogmatical way; then withdraw within himself again, and vouchsafe to talk no more, until his spirits circulate again to the same point.

:

There are some faults in conversation which none are so subject to as the men of wit, nor ever so much as when they are with each other. If they have opened their mouths without endeavoring to say a witty thing, they think it is so many words lost it is a torment to their hearers, as much as to themselves, to see them upon the rack for invention, and in perpetual constraint, with so little success. They must do something extraordinary in order to acquit themselves, and answer their character, else the standers-by may be disappointed, and be apt to think them only like the rest of mortals. I have known two men of wit industriously brought together in order to entertain the company, where they have made a very ridiculous figure, and provided all the mirth at their own expense.

I know a man of wit who is never casy but where he can be allowed to dictate and preside: he neither expects to be informed or entertained, but to display his own talents. His business is to be good company, and not good conversation; and therefore he chooses to frequent those who are content to listen, and to profess themselves his admirers. And indeed the worst conversation I ever remember to have heard in my life was that at Will's coffee-house, where the wits (as they were called) used formerly to assemble; that is to say, five or six men who had writ plays, or at least prologues, or had share in a miscellany, came thither, and entertained one another with their trifling composures, in so important an air as if they had been the noblest efforts of human nature, or that the fate of kingdoms depended on them; and they were usually attended with an humble audience of young students from the inns of court, or the universities; who, at due distance, listened to these oracles, and returned home with great contempt for their law and philosophy, their heads filled with trash, under the name of politeness, criticism, and belles lettres.

By these means the poets, for many years past, were all overrun with pedantry. For, as I take it, the word is not properly used; because pedantry is the too frequent or unseasonable obtruding our own knowledge in common discourse, and placing too great a value upon it; by which definition, men of the court, or the army, may be as guilty of pedantry as a philosopher or a divine; and it is the same vice in women, when they are over-copious upon the subject of their petticoats, or their fans, or their china. For which reason, although it be a piece of prudence, as well as good manners, to put men upon talking on subjects they are best versed in, yet that is a liberty a wise man could hardly take; because, beside the imputation of pedantry, it is what he would never improve by.

The great town is usually provided with some player, mimic, or buffoon, who has a general reception at the good tables; familiar and domestic with persons of the first quality, and usually sent for at every meeting to divert the company; against which I have no objection. You go there as to a farce or a puppetshow, your business is only to laugh in season, either out of inclination or civility, while this merry companion is acting his part. It is a business he has undertaken, and we are to suppose he is paid for his day's work. I only quarrel, when, in select and private meetings, where men of wit and learning are invited to pass an evening, this jester should be admitted to run over his circle of tricks,