_THE ASSENTER._
"And there's one rare, strange virtue in his speeches,
The secret of their mastery--they are short."
HALLECK.
This is a talker of a very accommodating kind. He is pliable as an
elastic bow. He takes any shape in sentiment or opinion you please to
give him, with most obliging disposition. As you think, so he thinks; as
you say, so he says. If you deny, he denies; if you affirm, he affirms.
He is no wrangler or disputant, no dogmatist or snubber. You may always
rely upon having a hearing from him, whatever you say. And observe this,
what he is to you, so he is to others, however averse they may be in
sentiment to yourself. He is very much of a weathercock-make in his
intellect. It seems to be fixed on a pivot, and from whichever point of
the compass the wind blows in the talking world he veers round to that
quarter. His pet expressions are, "Yes, truly;" "Just so;" "I believe
that;" "Nothing is truer;" "That is what I have said many a time," etc.
I am not, however, disposed to think that this vacillation is owing to
moral weakness so much as to want of mental calibre in independent and
manly exercise.
In some it is a habit formed as the result of a desire to stand on
friendly terms with everybody they hold conversation.
"It is a very fine morning, Mr. Long," said Mr. Oakes, as he met him one
day in Bond Street.
"Very fine, indeed," said Mr. Long.
"I think we are going to have settled weather now after such a
succession of storms."
"O, yes, I think so, Mr. Oakes."
"Did you mind that picture of Wellington as you came by Brown's shop. Is
it not fine? Did you ever see a better likeness of the glorious hero of
Waterloo than that? Is it not grand?"
"It is indeed grand. I never saw anything like it. I think with you, Mr.
Oakes."
"That is a magnificent building, Mr. Long, which is in course of
erection in Adelaide Street. It will be an honour to the architect, the
proprietor, and the city."
"It is indeed a magnificent building, and it will do honour to the
architect, the proprietor, and the city," replied Mr. Long.
"Did you hear Mr. Bowles lecture the other night? Was it not a grand
piece of eloquence, of originality, and of literary power? I think that
it was super-excellent."
"Just so, Mr. Oakes. It was, as you say, super-excellent; that is the
exact idea. It was everything you describe. I fully concur in your
remarks."
"But I did not think much of the man that supplied our pulpit on Sunday
morning. He was too long, too loose, and too loud; a very poor
substitute for our beloved pastor."
"Those are exactly my views upon that subject," responded Long.
"My opinion is that the probability of the restoration of Popery in this
country was never so strong as now, and unless something be done to
interpose, it will become more probable still."
"Just so, Mr. Oates. My opinion is precisely the same as yours upon that
point. We agree exactly."
"I think Mr. Gladstone's pamphlet on the Vatican Decrees is likely to
produce a reactionary effect upon the patronage of the Romanists in his
future support as the Liberal leader."
"That is what I think too, Mr. Oakes. It is very likely, as you say, to
be so. Your mind and mine agree upon that particular also."
"I have a strong impression that the Public Worship Act will have little
effect in arresting the progress of Ritualism, because of the apathy of
the Bishops."
"That is just my impression, Mr. Oakes."
"Do you not think, Mr. Long, that the scepticism of the age is very
subtle, powerful, and dangerous?"
"Yes, truly, Mr. Oakes, I do indeed think that the scepticism of the age
is all you say it is."
"I did not say it was so; you mistook my question for a statement, Mr.
Long."
With some little tremor, as though he had given offence, Mr. Long said,
"Oh dear no; you did not say so: I have made a mistake; do pardon me,
Mr. Oakes."
"That notion of George Eliot, taught in the following lines, is full of
atheistic teaching, and likely to be mischievous in its influence.
Speaking of his wish to have an immortality, his notion of it is only
that of living in the minds of others in subsequent ages:--
'O may I join the choir invisible
Of those immortal dead, who live again
In minds made better by their presence:
So to live is heaven.'
His notion of a heaven, you see, is limited to a life of immortality
among the dead, who live in others made better by them--a posthumous
influence for good is his only heaven."
"Yes, I see, Mr. Oakes," answered Long. "Just so: I believe all you say.
You have expressed what I think about the atheistic theory of George
Eliot."
It was in this way that Mr. Long assented to Mr. Oakes in everything he
said. They separated, and each went on his way. As Mr. Long walked down
the street, who should meet him but Mr. Stearns? and he began his
conversation somewhat in the same order as Mr. Oakes, only he happened
to take in almost every particular an opposite view. But this was of no
consequence to Mr. Long. Both Mr. Oakes and Mr. Stearns were his
intimate friends, though not friends of each other, and he did not wish
to disagree with either, so he assented to everything Stearns said with
as much readiness and affability as he did to what Oakes said.
The above is a brief specimen of the assenter in conversation. His fault
shows itself to every observer; and if it is not a moral fault, it
certainly is an intellectual one. Every man in conversation ought to
have a mind of his own for free and independent thought; and while he
does not dogmatically and doggedly bring it into contact with others, he
should avoid making it the tool of another man's. He should not throw
it, as clay, into everybody's mental mould which comes in his way, to
receive any shape which may be given to it. This is _softness_ which a
healthful state of any mind does not justify--which the natural
intellectual rights of man condemn. It is a _pliability_ of mind which
no honourable man requires in conversation, and which he does not
approve. It is mental stultification. It confines the action of mind to
one party, and limits the circle of conversation to the compass which
that mind pleases to give it. The proper contact of mind in conversation
is mutual stimulus to action. Friction produces fire, and when there are
wise hands to supply suitable material on both sides, a genial glowing
heat is the result, which thaws out the frigidness that otherwise might
exist. Each one warms himself at the other's fire; all who listen feel
the influence, and lasting are the benefits which flow from such
conversation.