like their own faults better than the virtues claims to eminence in this line I am in no way of others. It is not of much consequence what is the nature of the subject proposed to the attention of this class of talkers. If the weather: "It does not agree with me, I like the wind from the west." If the politics of the country in which they live: "I have not given much attention to politics, nor do I think that women should." If any moral quality in the abstract is discussed: "Oh, that is just my fault!" or, "If I possess any virtue, I do think it is that." If an anecdote is related: "That is like [or not like] me. I should [or should not] have done the same." If the beauty of any distant place is described: "I never was there, but my uncle once was within ten miles of it: and had it not been for the miscarriage of a letter, I should have been his companion on that journey. My uncle was always fond of taking me with him. Dear good man, I was a great pet of his." If the lapse of time is the subject of conversation: "The character undergoes many changes in a few years. I wonder whether, or in what way, mine will be altered two years hence." If the moon : "How many people write sonnets to the moon! I never did." And thus sun, moon, and stars-the whole created universe-are but links in that continuous chain which vibrates with perpetual music to the egotist, connecting all things in heaven and earth, however discordant or heterogeneous, by a perfect and harmonious union with self. disposed to contest, consists of the talkers of mere common-place-those who say nothing but what we could have said ourselves, had we deemed it worth our while, and who never on any occasion, or by any chance, give utterance to a new idea. Such people will talk. They seem to consider it their especial duty to talk, and no symptoms of inattention in their hearers, no impatient answer nor averted ear, nor even the interminable monotony of their own prattle, has the power to hush them into silence. If they fail in one thing, they try another; but, unfortunately for them, there is a transmuting medium in their own discourse, that would turn to dust the golden opinions of the wisest of men. We naturally ask in what consists that objectionable common-place of which we complain, since the tenor of their conversation is not unlike the conversation of others. It is in reality too like, too much composed of the fillings-up of conversation in general. It has nothing distinctive in it, and, like certain letters we have seen, would answer the purpose as well if addressed to one individual as another. The talker of common-place is always interested in the weather, which forms an allsufficient resource when other subjects fail. One would think, from the frequency with which the individual remarks upon the rising of clouds, and the falling of rain, she was perpetually on the point of setting out on a journey. But she treats the seasons with the same reA very slight degree of observation would spect, and loses no opportunity of telling the enable such individuals to perceive that as farmer who is silently suffering from a wet soon as self is put in the place of any of the harvest, that the autumn has been unusually subjects in question, conversation necessarily unpropitious. If you cough, she hopes you flags, as this topic, to say the least of it, can- have not taken cold, but really colds are exnot be familiar to both parties. On one side, tremely prevalent. If you bring out your therefore, nothing further remains to be said; work, she admires both your industry and for, however lovely the egotist may be in her your taste, and assures you that rich colors own person, no man, or woman either, is pre- are well thrown off by a dark ground. If books pared to have her substituted for the world in are the subject of conversation, she inquires general, though it seems more than probable whether you have read one that has just had that the individual herself might not object to a twelvemonth's run of popularity. She such a transposition. thinks that authors sometimes go a little too Another class of annoying talkers, whose far, but concludes, with what appears in her opinion to be a universal case, that much may be said on both sides. From books she proceeds to authors; expatiates upon the imagination of Shakspeare, and the strength of mind possessed by Hannah More; and deliberately inquires whether you do not agree with her in her sentiments respecting both. Nay, so far does reality exceed imagination, that I once heard a very sweet and amiable woman, whose desire to be at the same time both edifying and agreeable, somewhat outran her originality of thought, exclaim, in one of those pauses incident to conversation"What an excellent book the Bible is!" Now, there is no gainsaying such an assertion, and it is almost equally impossible to asConversation, therefore, always flags where common-place exists, because it elicits nothing, touches no answering chord, nor conveys any other idea than that of bare sound to the ear of the reluctant listener. sent. Another and most prolific source of annoyance is found among that class of persons who choose to converse on subjects interesting to themselves, without regard to time, or place, or general appropriateness. Whatever they take up, either as their ruling topic, or as one of momentary interest, is forced upon society, whether in season or out of season; and they often feel surprised and mortified that their favorite subjects, in themselves not unfrequently well chosen, are received by others with so cold a welcome. How many worthy individuals, whose minds are richly stored, and whose laudable desire is to disseminate useful knowledge, entirely defeat their own ends by this want of adaptation; and many whose conversation might be both amusing and instructive, from this cause seldom meet with a patient hearer. Old people are peculiarly liable to this error; and it would be well to provide against the garrulity and wearisomeness of advanced age, by cultivating such powers of discrimination as would enable us habitually to discover what is acceptable, or otherwise, in conversation. It occasionally happens that the mistress of a house, the kind hospitable mistress, who has been at a world of pains to make everybody comfortable, is the very last person at the table, beside whom any of her guests would desire to be placed; because they know that being once linked in with her interminable chain of prattle, they will have no chance of escape until the ladies rise to withdraw; and there are few who would not prefer quietly partaking of her soups and sauces, to hearing them described. Women of this description, having tired out everybody at home, and taught every ear to turn away, are voracious of attention when they can command it, or even that appearance of it which the visitor politely puts on. Charmed with the novelty of her situation in having caught a hearer, she makes the most of him. Warming with her subject, and describing still more copiously, she looks into his face with an expression bordering on ecstasy; and were it not that she considerately spares him the task of a rejoinder, his situation would be as intolerable as the common routine of table-talk could make it. In about the same class of agreeables with this good lady, might be placed the profuse teller of tales, whose natural flow of language and fertility of ideas leads her so far away from the original story, that neither the narrator nor the listener would be able to answer if suddenly inquired of—what the story was about. This is a very common fault among female talkers, whose versatility of mind and sensibility of feeling, render them peculiarly liable to be diverted from any definite object. It is only wonderful that the same quickness of apprehension does not teach them the impossibility of obtaining hearers on such terms. Nor must we forget, among the abuses of conversation, the random talkers,-those who talk from impulse only, and rush upon you with whatever happens to be uppermost in their own minds, or most pleasing to their fancy at the time, without waiting to ascertain whether the individual they address is sad or merry,-at liberty to listen, or pre-occupied with some weightier and more interesting subject. Whatever the topic of conversation, thus obtruded upon society, may be, it is evident there must be a native obtuseness and vulgarity in the mind of the individual who thus offends, or she would wait before she spoke, to tune her voice to some degree of harmony with the feelings of those around her. Thus far we have noticed only the trifling abuses of conversation, and of such we have, perhaps already, had more than enough; though the catalogue might easily be continued through as many volumes as it occupies pages here. There are other aspects more serious, under which the abuse of conversation must be contemplated; and the first of these is as it relates to carelessness or design in exercising its power to give pain. greater, nor is its carelessness more culpable in us, than is that of a large portion of the illjudged, random speeches we give utterance to every day. Nor is it in common conversation that carelessness of giving pain is felt so much, as in the necessary duties of advising and finding fault. I am inclined to think no very agreeable way of telling people of their faults has ever yet been discovered; but certainly there is a difference, as great as that which separates light from darkness, between reproof judiciously and injudiciously administered. By carelessness in not regulating our tones and looks and manner when reproving others, we may convey either too much or too little meaning, and thus defeat our own purposes; we may even convey an impression the exact opposite of that designed, and awaken feel It is difficult to conceive that a deliberate desire to give pain could exist in any but the most malignant bosom; but habitual want of regard to what is painful to others, may easi-ings of bitterness, revenge, and malignity in ly be the cause of inflicting upon them real the mind of the individual we are solicitous misery. to serve. Let no one therefore presume to do good, either by instruction or advice, unless they have learned something of the human heart. It may appear, on the first view of the subject, a difficult and arduous study, but it is one that never can be begun too early or pursued too long. It is one also, in the pursuit of which women never need despair, as they We have all observed-perhaps some of us felt, the sting of a taunting or an ill-timed jest; and never is the suffering it occasions, or the effect it produces, so much to be regretted, as when it wrings sharp tears from the gentle eyes of childhood. Ye know not what ye do, might well be said to those who thus burn up the blossoms of youth, and send back the fresh, warm current of feeling to stag-possess the universal key of sympathy, by nate at the heart. It would be impossible, even if such were our object, always to discover exactly when we did give pain; but surely it would be a study well worthy of a benevolent and enlightened mind, to ascertain the fact with as much precision as we are capable of. What, for instance, do we feel on being called upon to sympathize with a young lady who is at the same moment pointed out to as one whose father a short time before had put an end to his existence, when the recollection simultaneous ly flashes upon us, that during the whole of the past evening, we engaged the attention of the very same young lady with a detailed account of the melancholy scenes we had sometimes witnessed in an insane asylum? Yet, neither the pain inflicted by such conversation is which all hearts may be unlocked,-some, it is true, with considerable difficulty, and some but partially at last; yet, if the key be applied by a delicate and skilful hand, there is little doubt but some measure of success will reward the endeavor. We have said before, and we again repeat, it is scarcely possible to believe that beings constituted as women are-kindly affectioned, and tenderly susceptible of pain themselves— should be capable of wantonly and designedly inflicting pain upon others. Nature revolts from the thought. We look at the smile of beauty, and exclaim, "Impossible!" We pursue the benevolent visitant of the sick in her errands of mercy, and say, "It cannot be." Yet, after all, we fear it must be charged upon the female sex, that they do assist occa sionally in the circulation of petty scandal, and that it is not always from carelessness that they let slip the envenomed shaft, or speak daggers where they dare not use them. Nor are the speakers alone to blame. The hearers ought at least to participate, for if the habit of depreciating character were discountenanced in society, it would soon cease to exist, or exist only in occasional attempts, to be defeated as soon as made. Few women have the hardihood to confess that they delight in this kind of conversation. But let the experiment be made in mixed society, of course not under the influence of true religious feeling, though perhaps the party might be such as would feel a little scandalized at being told they were not. Let a clever and sarcastic woman take the field, not, professedly, to talk against her neighbors on her own authority, but to throw in the hearsay of the day, by way of spice to the general conversation; giving to a public man his private stigma-to an author his unsaleable book-to the rich man his trading ancestry to the poor, his unquestionable imprudence to the beau, his borrowed plumes and to the belle, her artificial bloom. We grant that this mass of poisoning matter thrown in at once, would be likely to offend the taste. It must, therefore, be skilfully proportioned, distributed with nice distinction, and dressed up with care. Will there not then be a large proportion of attentive listeners gathered round the speaker, smiling a ready assent to what they had themselves not dared to utter, and nodding as if in silent recognition of some fact they had previously been made acquainted with in a more private way? Now all this while there may be seated in another part of the room, a person whose sole business is to tell the good she knows, believes, or has heard of others. She is not a mere relater of facts, but equally talented, shrewd, and discriminating with the opposite party, only she is restricted to the detail of what is good. I simply ask, for I wish not to pursue the subject further, Which of these talkers will be likely to obtain the largest group of listeners? It is not, after all, by any consistent or determined attack upon character, that so much mischief is done, as by interlarding otherwise agreeable conversation with the sly hope of pretended charity--that certain things are not as they have been reported; or the kind wish that apparent merit was real, or might last. English society is so happily constituted, that women have little temptation to any open vice. They must lose all respect for themselves, before they would venture so far to forget their respectability. But they have temptations as powerful to them, as open vice to others, and not the less so for being insidious. Who would believe that the passions of envy, hatred, and revenge could lurk within the gentle bosom over which those folds of dove-colored drapery are falling? The lady has been prevailed upon to sing for the amusement of the company. Blushing and hesitating, she is just about to be led to the place of exhibition, when another movement, in a distant part of the room, where her own advance was not observed, has placed upon the seat of honor, a younger, and perhaps more lovely woman; and she lays open the very piece of music which the lady in the dove-like color had believed herself the only person present who could sing. The musician charms the company. The next day, our dove hears of nothing but this exquisite performance; and at last she is provoked to say, "No wonder she plays so well, for I understand she does nothing else. Her mamma was ill the other day with a dreadful headache, and she played on, the whole afternoon, because she was going to a party in the evening, and wished to keep herself in practice." Now, there is little in this single speech. It is almost too trifling for remark; but it may serve as a specimen of thousands, which are no determined falsehoods, nay, possibly, no falsehoods at all, and yet originate in feelings as diametrically opposed to Christian meekness, love, and charity, as are the malignant passions of envy, hatred, and revenge. sort of people, really owe their existence to selfishness; but it should be remembered, that to this assertion the writer is far from adding, that those who act with more tact, and avoid such errors, are necessarily free from the same fault. There may be a refined as well as a gross selfishness, and both may be equal in their intensity and power. But let us go back to the cases already specified. If the artist were not habitually more intent upon his own gratification than upon that of his companions, he would keep his hobby in the background, and allow himself time to perceive that the attention of his companion was pre-occupied by subjects more agreeable to him. The same may certainly be said of the more common fault of making self the ruling topic of conversation; and this applies with equal truth to self-depreciation as to self-praise. I must again repeat, that I know the evil exists not in this individual act, but in the state of the heart where it originates; yet I write thus earnestly about seeming trifles, because I believe few young persons are sufficiently alive to their importance: because I know that the minor morals of domestic life exercise a vital influence over the wellbeing of society; and because the peace of whole families is sometimes destroyed by the outward observance of religious duty not being supported by an equally strenuous observance of these delicate but essential points. In studying the art, or rather the duty of being agreeable-a duty which all kindlydisposed persons will be anxious to observeit is of importance to inquire, from whence originate the errors here specified, with the long catalogue that might follow in their train? So far as they are confined to misapprehension of what is really agreeable, they may be said to originate in the innate selfishness of our nature gaining the mastery over our judgment; beyond this, they originate in the evil propensities of the human heart, which when the influence of popular feeling operates against their exhibition in any grossing the storehouse of our own memory, withand palpable form, infuse themselves, as it were, into the very current of our existence, and poison all our secret springs of feeling. In order to correct the former, it is necessary that the judgment should be awakened. But as habits of selfishness, long indulged, involve the understanding in a cloud too dense to be altogether dispelled, it is the more important that youth should be so trained as to acquire habits of constant and unremitting mental reference to the feelings and characters of others; so that a quickness of perception, almost like intuitive knowledge, shall enable them to carry out the kindly purposes they are taught to cherish, into the delicate and minute affairs of life, and thus render them the means not only of giving pleasure, but of warding off pain. It may appear a harsh conclusion to come to, that the little errors of conversation to which allusion has been made, and which are often conspicuous in what are called good The case is too clear and simple to need further argument. It must be the habit of acting from that first and most powerful impulse of our nature, and just pouring forth the fulness of our own hearts, discharging our own imagination of its load, and empty out regard to fitness or preparation in the soil upon which the seed may fall, or the harvest it is likely to produce, that renders conversation sometimes tasteless and vapid, and sometimes inexpressibly annoying. The weightier responsibilities which attach to the talent of conversation, do not appear to fall directly within the compass of a work expressly devoted to the morals of domestic life. It is, however, a fact of great importance to establish, that a woman's private conversation-for in public they converse too much alike—is the surest evidence of her mind being imbued or not imbued with just and religious principles; that where it is uniformly trifling, there can be no predominating desire to promote the interests of religion in the world; and where, on the other hand, it is uniformly solemn and sedate, it is ill-calculated to recommend the course it would advocate with effect; that where it abounds in sarcasm, invective, and abuse, even of wha: is |