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 seemeth 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 remaineth as mere an idea as
the other. Therefore it seemeth 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 requireth few talents to which most men are not
born, or at least may not acquire without any great genius or study. For
nature bath 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 hath 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 proceedeth with much thought and caution, maketh his preface,
brancheth out into several digressions, findeth a hint that putteth him
in mind of another story, which he promiseth to tell you when this is
done; cometh back regularly to his subject, cannot readily call to mind
some person's name, holdeth his head, complaineth of his memory; the
whole company all this while in suspense; at length, says he, it is no
matter, and so goes on. And, to crown the business, it perhaps proveth
at last a story the company hath 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 unsufferable 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 than theirs have
with him; and how little that is he is sensible enough.
Where company hath 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
supercilious and impatient silence, full of anger and contempt for those
who are talking; at length of a sudden demand 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 endeavouring to say a witty thing, they
think it is so many words lost. It is a torment to the 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 easy but where he can be allowed to
dictate and preside; he neither expecteth 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 chooseth to frequent those who
are content to listen, and 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 written
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 a humble audience of young students from the inns
of courts, 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 front 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.
This great town is usually provided with some player, mimic, or buffoon,
who hath 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 puppet-show; 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 hath 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,
and make the whole company unfit for any other conversation, besides the
indignity of confounding men's talents at so shameful a rate.
Raillery is the finest part of conversation; but, as it is our usual
custom to counterfeit and adulterate whatever is too dear for us, so we
have done with this, and turned it all into what is generally called
repartee, or being smart; just as when an expensive fashion cometh up,
those who are not able to reach it content themselves with some paltry
imitation. It now passeth for raillery to run a man down in discourse,
to put him out of countenance, and make him ridiculous, sometimes to
expose the defects of his person or understanding; on all which occasions
he is obliged not to be angry, to avoid the imputation of not being able
to take a jest. It is admirable to observe one who is dexterous at this
art, singling out a weak adversary, getting the laugh on his side, and
then carrying all before him. The French, from whom we borrow the word,
have a quite different idea of the thing, and so had we in the politer
age of our fathers. Raillery was, to say something that at first
appeared a reproach or reflection, but, by some turn of wit unexpected
and surprising, ended always in a compliment, and to the advantage of the
person it was addressed to. And surely one of the best rules in
conversation is, never to say a thing which any of the company can
reasonably wish we had rather left unsaid; nor can there anything be well
more contrary to the ends for which people meet together, than to part
unsatisfied with each other or themselves.
There are two faults in conversation which appear very different, yet
arise from the same root, and are equally blamable; I mean, an impatience
to interrupt others, and the uneasiness of being interrupted ourselves.
The two chief ends of conversation are, to entertain and improve those we
are among, or to receive those benefits ourselves; which whoever will
consider, cannot easily run into either of those two errors; because,
when any man speaketh in company, it is to be supposed he doth it for his
hearers' sake, and not his own; so that common discretion will teach us
not to force their attention, if they are not willing to lend it; nor, on
the other side, to interrupt him who is in possession, because that is in
the grossest manner to give the preference to our own good sense.
There are some people whose good manners will not suffer them to
interrupt you; but, what is almost as bad, will discover abundance of
impatience, and lie upon the watch until you have done, because they have
started something in their own thoughts which they long to be delivered
of. Meantime, they are so far from regarding what passes, that their
imaginations are wholly turned upon what they have in reserve, for fear
it should slip out of their memory; and thus they confine their
invention, which might otherwise range over a hundred things full as
good, and that might be much more naturally introduced.
There is a sort of rude familiarity, which some people, by practising
among their intimates, have introduced into their general conversation,
and would have it pass for innocent freedom or humour, which is a
dangerous experiment in our northern climate, where all the little
decorum and politeness we have are purely forced by art, and are so ready
to lapse into barbarity. This, among the Romans, was the raillery of
slaves, of which we have many instances in Plautus. It seemeth to have
been introduced among us by Cromwell, who, by preferring the scum of the
people, made it a court-entertainment, of which I have heard many
particulars; and, considering all things were turned upside down, it was
reasonable and judicious; although it was a piece of policy found out to
ridicule a point of honour in the other extreme, when the smallest word
misplaced among gentlemen ended in a duel.
There are some men excellent at telling a story, and provided with a
plentiful stock of them, which they can draw out upon occasion in all
companies; and considering how low conversation runs now among us, it is
not altogether a contemptible talent; however, it is subject to two
unavoidable defects: frequent repetition, and being soon exhausted; so
that whoever valueth this gift in himself hath need of a good memory, and
ought frequently to shift his company, that he may not discover the
weakness of his fund; for those who are thus endowed have seldom any
other revenue, but live upon the main stock.
Great speakers in public are seldom agreeable in private conversation,
whether their faculty be natural, or acquired by practice and often
venturing. Natural elocution, although it may seem a paradox, usually
springeth from a barrenness of invention and of words, by which men who
have only one stock of notions upon every subject, and one set of phrases
to express them in, they swim upon the superficies, and offer themselves
on every occasion; therefore, men of much learning, and who know the
compass of a language, are generally the worst talkers on a sudden, until
much practice hath inured and emboldened them; because they are
confounded with plenty of matter, variety of notions, and of words, which
they cannot readily choose, but are perplexed and entangled by too great
a choice, which is no disadvantage in private conversation; where, on the
other side, the talent of haranguing is, of all others, most
insupportable.
Nothing hath spoiled men more for conversation than the character of
being wits; to support which, they never fail of encouraging a number of
followers and admirers, who list themselves in their service, wherein
they find their accounts on both sides by pleasing their mutual vanity.
This hath given the former such an air of superiority, and made the
latter so pragmatical, that neither of them are well to be endured. I
say nothing here of the itch of dispute and contradiction, telling of
lies, or of those who are troubled with the disease called the wandering
of the thoughts, that they are never present in mind at what passeth in
discourse; for whoever labours under any of these possessions is as unfit
for conversation as madmen in Bedlam.
I think I have gone over most of the errors in conversation that have
fallen under my notice or memory, except some that are merely personal,
and others too gross to need exploding; such as lewd or profane talk; but
I pretend only to treat the errors of conversation in general, and not
the several subjects of discourse, which would be infinite. Thus we see
how human nature is most debased, by the abuse of that faculty, which is
held the great distinction between men and brutes; and how little
advantage we make of that which might be the greatest, the most lasting,
and the most innocent, as well as useful pleasure of life: in default of
which, we are forced to take up with those poor amusements of dress and
visiting, or the more pernicious ones of play, drink, and vicious amours,
whereby the nobility and gentry of both sexes are entirely corrupted both
in body and mind, and have lost all notions of love, honour, friendship,
and generosity; which, under the name of fopperies, have been for some
time laughed out of doors.
This degeneracy of conversation, with the pernicious consequences thereof
upon our humours and dispositions, hath been owing, among other causes,
to the custom arisen, for some time past, of excluding women from any
share in our society, further than in parties at play, or dancing, or in
the pursuit of an amour. I take the highest period of politeness in
England (and it is of the same date in France) to have been the peaceable
part of King Charles I.'s reign; and from what we read of those times, as
well as from the accounts I have formerly met with from some who lived in
that court, the methods then used for raising and cultivating
conversation were altogether different from ours; several ladies, whom we
find celebrated by the poets of that age, had assemblies at their houses,
where persons of the best understanding, and of both sexes, met to pass
the evenings in discoursing upon whatever agreeable subjects were
occasionally started; and although we are apt to ridicule the sublime
Platonic notions they had, or personated in love and friendship, I
conceive their refinements were grounded upon reason, and that a little
grain of the romance is no ill ingredient to preserve and exalt the
dignity of human nature, without which it is apt to degenerate into
everything that is sordid, vicious, and low. If there were no other use
in the conversation of ladies, it is sufficient that it would lay a
restraint upon those odious topics of immodesty and indecencies, into
which the rudeness of our northern genius is so apt to fall. And,
therefore, it is observable in those sprightly gentlemen about the town,
who are so very dexterous at entertaining a vizard mask in the park or
the playhouse, that, in the company of ladies of virtue and honour, they
are silent and disconcerted, and out of their element.
There are some people who think they sufficiently acquit themselves and
entertain their company with relating of facts of no consequence, nor at
all out of the road of such common incidents as happen every day; and
this I have observed more frequently among the Scots than any other
nation, who are very careful not to omit the minutest circumstances of
time or place; which kind of discourse, if it were not a little relieved
by the uncouth terms and phrases, as well as accent and gesture peculiar
to that country, would be hardly tolerable. It is not a fault in company
to talk much; but to continue it long is certainly one; for, if the
majority of those who are got together be naturally silent or cautious,
the conversation will flag, unless it be often renewed by one among them
who can start new subjects, provided he doth not dwell upon them, but
leaveth room for answers and replies.