January 24.
Amonc many changes brought upon us by the new century it is worth while to spare a moment's thought for one noted in a recent number of " The Spectator," which likely to have more far-reaching effects than the retired nature of the society concerned in it might seem to suggest. "Talk at country tea-tables"—we read—"is not what it used to bs. Gossip no longer plays a pre-eminent part. Larger subjects form the staple of interest." It is further observed that this change is general; and two main explanations are offered. First, the new virtue of tolerance (counterpart, we might add, of that habit of sentimentalism which is a feature of modern political life) is conspicuous at the tea table "a witty defence will bring down the house, and to dismiss a victim of popular censure without a stain on his or her character is a far greater triumph than any to which ill-nature can lay claim." Irresistibly we are reminded of Mrs. Candour who bewailed that "the world is so censorious," and was herself the most censorious of all. But let that pass in view of second reason, which is that new education has largely counter acted the acidity for which the gossip of women used to be famous." Are we to expect a new version of Les Femmes Savantes? The ladies of the country tea-table are no longer likely to throw themselves into contortions over anyone who knows Greek; but for ethics, ("women who think at all approach every subject from the ethical point of view"), their appetite is only equalled by the complete fearlessness with they assault and, to their own satisfaction, overcome the most alarming subjects. Onceagain we are reminded of the modern fashion of seriousness at Oxford where, it is said, beardless boys are seen discussing matters fit for statesmen with the gravity of archbishops." Ignorance, after all, is not necessarily an obstacle to lively conversation. Thought has a wonderful knack of growing by the mere use of words and many a man in quitting an argument has been surprised, not at his own moderation but at the abundance of his knowledge.
these things are so, the first conclusion which we may be tempted to draw is that they will entail a severe loss to novelists, What. will become of virtue, if there is no longer any background of local envy and misconception to enhance by contrast its merits? What of the heroine's thirst for adventure, when she hears no " prurient scream of moral-minded colonels " to defy? But on second thoughts the change in country conversations may give pause for reflexion in the.towns in London: in every big centre where a continual duty of " paying calls" at the rate of nine or ten to the afternoon debars human creatures from the exchange of all but the most obvious catchwords— gossip. It is told of Herbert, Spencer thata notable feature of his conversation was to keep clear of personalities. But philosophers must superior to the weaknesses of ordinary mortals or they cease to be philosophers, and "The Spectator's excuse for gossip,—is there any subject larger than human nature—contains much consolation for the weaker vessels. Yet we are all agreed that English conversational powers admit of plentiful improvement. Congreve's " Way of the World," or any play of the same period (with due allowance for its grosser tastes), is evidence presumptive that Englishmen have been able to talk, and bril-hantly. But in the days of Charles LI men were more content' "to exist beautifully" (like the Postlethwaites and Maudles of the early 1890's) than they are today. Action is fatal to speech and the English principle to do, rather than to talk, is reinforced against the seductions of conversation by the national horror of selfobtrasion and the national pose of nil admirari. On the other hand there is no society in which " a hit, palpable hit" in conversation is received with so much relish as the English. We treasure the spoken witticisms of a Sydney Smith or Douglas Jerrold for years after their written works have sunk into forgetfulness: and while this is chiefly a just tribute to our sense of humour, it might be taken as some sign that we envy the gift and in secret should not be sorry to be able to talk a little too.
It is a cloud on the reputation of some of the greatest talkers that their habit of" holding forth," of wishing to monopolize the attention of the table, spoiled them as true conversationalists. As Sydney Smith said of Macaulay, "it is true that he overflows with wit and wisdom, and then he stands in the slops." Contrast with this Bach's idea ofa perfect fugue: "It is like the conversation of four well-bred persons each of whom has his contribution to make to the har-many of the whole discussion without undue preponderance." That is surely the ideal of conversation although it contains an element of danger in the last three words which, if taken too seriously, might reduce the party to utter silence. In that extremity we can only pray for the advent of one of those persons who possess the ray faculty of making others talk without talking themselves. Sucha guest will be popular at every table, for his or her particular art of conversation is not to be learnt any more than that other gift of being all things to all men which it usually accompanies, if it does not. actually: presuppose. To attempt adaptability is, for the average cast-iron nature, to suc~ ceed only in being gracious, or, what is worse, affable. In fact, to make any special preparation for what we are going to say at a dinner or luncheon party—as for example, with old volumes of "Panch"" or a few odd pages of the Eneyclopaedia—is to endanger al spontaneity of conversation, and to create only the impression of a pulpit or a gramophone. Yet it might be argued with equal force that when so much thought is given to what goes into our mouths it is
Text read from the printed page and cleaned; old type leaves the occasional error.