Subjects of conversation are sometimes exceedingly difficult to be
had. I have known many a company of well dressed men and women feel
themselves most awkwardly situated for want of something to talk about.
The weather, which is said to be a never failing subject, cannot hold
out above a few minutes at a time. It will stand a round or two rounds,
but not more. It is then knocked up for the evening, and cannot with
decency be again brought forward. Being thus disposed of, the subject
of “news” is tabled; but, as a matter of course, there being “no news
stirring,” “not a word,” “nothing in the papers,” that subject is also
soon dispatched. If there happen to be any very remarkable occurrence
worth talking of, what a blessing it is on such occasions! It is food
for the company a whole night, and may be again and again brought above
board for their amusement. But it much more frequently happens that
there is no exciting event to talk about, and then the condition of the
company is truly miserable. There being ladies present, or there being
two factions in the room, politics are proscribed; and even if they
could be brought forward, the question of reform immediately comes in
with all its tiresomeness, and is put down by general consent. Every
attempt at getting up a topic failing, the company look into the fire,
or in each others faces, or begin to examine with much interest the
pattern of the carpet; and the silence which ensues is truly terrific.
A slight whisper is the only sound in the apartment, and is caught at
or watched by the company, for it may chance to be the commencement of
a conversation in which they may join, without exciting particular
attention. But it, too, dies away. It was only a passing under-current
of remark between the two married ladies in the blue and white turbans,
on the dearth of coals, the difficulty of getting good servants, or the
utility of keeping children muffled in flannel nightgowns from October
till March. At length some good soul makes an effort to brush away his
diffidence. He projects a remark across the room towards the little man
with the smirking countenance, about Mr. This, or Miss That, or
Signor Such-a-thing, who are at present enlivening the town with their
exhibitions. The remark is in itself a very ordinary remark, but it
has its use; it quickens the intellects of those who hear it, and the
tongues of a number of individuals are set a-going upon the subject of
theatrical amusements, singing in the Assembly Rooms, Pasta, Paganini,
and private parties, so that the original remark is lost sight of, and
the company go on pretty well with what it has produced, for perhaps
half an hour. All these topics being exhausted, another horrible silence
ensues. The company again look into the fire, or in one another’s faces,
and once more examine the carpet. What is to be said next? All think
upon saying something, yet nobody speaks. The national _mauvaise honte_
is now displayed to the height of its perfection. The agony of the
company, however, approaches its crisis.--The awful stillness is broken,
and in a most natural and unexpected manner. The young man in the
starched cravat sitting in the corner of the room, near the end of the
piano, who has been thinking what he shall say or do for the last half
hour, takes heart of grace; he rises and snuffs the candles, going
through the self-imposed duty in as neat and elegant a style as he can
possibly affect. The snuffing of the candles is an operation which every
member of the company has seen performed ten thousand times; but it
affords interest for even the ten thousandth and first time. It may not
intrinsically be worth heeding, yet in a case of this nature, it is of
very great importance. It suggests a new theme, and that is exactly what
is wanted, for one subject invariably leads to the discussion of half
a dozen others. The operation of snuffing the candles therefore induces
some one to remark, how beautiful gas light is. Then this brings on a
disquisition on the danger of introducing it into private houses;
ils cost in comparison with oil is next touched upon; then follows an
observation about the last illumination; which leads to reminiscences
of similar displays on the occasions of the great naval victories--the
victories lead to Nelson--Nelson to his biographer, Southey--Southey,
to poetry--poetry, to Byron--and Byron, to Greece. This whirl of
conversation, however, also runs out; an accident jars it, and it is all
over. Suddenly the speakers pause, as if they had received a galvanic
shock; one small voice is alone left prominent above the silence; but
finding itself unsupported, it is immediately lowered to a whisper, and
the whisper subsides to a dead silence.
I have often pitied the host or hostess on occasions of this nature;
but I could not help blaming them for not providing against such dismal
pauses in the conversation of the parties. To guard against these
occurrences, I would recommend them to bring forward what I have
remarked to be never-failing sources of conversational entertainment,
namely, a tolerably good-looking cat, a lap-dog or a child. The last is
the best, it ought to be about two years of age, and be able to walk. If
adroitly played off, or permitted to play, it will amuse the party for
an hour at least. It must be placed on the hearth-rug, so as to attract
all eyes; and while in the room, no other subject of discourse will be
thought of. Any endeavour to draw off attention, by the relation of some
entertaining anecdote, will be deemed sedition against the majesty
of the household. If a cat, a dog, or an interesting child, cannot be
conveniently had, I would advise the invitation of some one who has a
loud voice and the happy effrontery of speaking incessantly, however
ridiculously, on all subjects; a person who can speak nonsense to any
extent, and has the reputation of being a most agreeable companion.
This man is of vast use in tabling subjects; for he has no diffidence
or modesty, and has a knack of turning every observation to account.
His voice also serves as a cover to much bye conversation; there being
hundreds who speak fluently enough, provided a bag-pipe were kept
playing beside them, or who could have their voices drowned by some
other species of noise. The loud and voluble talker is therefore an
excellent shelter for those of weaker nerves, and will be found a useful
ingredient in all mixed companies.
The difficulty of starting subjects of conversation, as well as
the difficulty of sustaining them, is often as observable when two
acquaintances meet in the street, as when a roomful of company is
collected. The unhappy pair exhaust all that they can remember they
ought to say to each other, in the space of a minute and a half, and
another minute may be consumed in going through the process of taking a
pinch of snuff; the next half minute is spent in mutual agony. Neither
knows how to separate. As the only chance of release, one of the parties
at last brings in a joke, or what is meant to be such, to his aid.
The other, of course, feels bound to laugh, and both seizing the
opportunity, escape in different directions under cover of the
witticism.
[CHAMBERS’ JOURNAL.]
[Illustration: 242]