Novels of the period and essayists record that in the 18th century the art of conversation was stimulated by those forms of entertainment known as salons.
The modern man or woman would hesitate to be sceptical about the flow of reason and wit which scintillated on these occasions, but it certainly seems the art then cultivated has fallen into decay. Whether the after-dinner speech or the debate ing society is supposed to replace them in the modern social system is a matter for conjecture, may be surmised that the daring lady who attempted, either in London or Shanghai, to summon a gathering of her friends to language which Jane Austen vividly set down. But conversation does depend a good deal for its sustenance on the mood and manner of its votaries, and in these days life is lived at such a rate that the mood and manner are strictly confined. The intel-agent interpreter of sentiment has still to bring much imagination to bear upon his task, and it would be a bold novelist who, even in this age of realism, would risk putting down on paper the exact words which pass between members of the human race on occasions of stress and strain. Mr, P. G. Wodehouse di int angles himself from this difficulty by the ingenious device of swamping his characters in a hhectie atmosphere of slang. Indeed, he possibly is the most successful realist of them all, conversa-ying a task doomed to failure. Chelsea still produces its meetings of young iconoclasts who earn much notoriety in their little circle and ive themselves a good deal of but even he not been sufficiently ruthless to keep to reality, for the humour with which he adorns his narrative is too good to be true. pleasure by holding mass meetings, as it were, of protest against all forms of convention. absorbing until a personal note intrudes, and then it. becomes ous to one or other This outlet for wit has become very stereotyped, partly because the outraging of conven-jon is nowadays so difficult a task when there are so few conventions left. The swing of the pendulum may change all this, for only the other day a young woman in London, carrying on her lawful occasions as interpreted in the 20th century, was actually in danger of being kidnapped. Fortunately, for her, the 20th century came sufficiently to her aid to enable her to risk the danger of jumping from the kidnapper's motor car going full speed, and thus extracted herself from an awkward pre-dicement.
So long as the topics remain without the circle of personal emotion and are kept along the safe lines of banality, no great harm is done, But' the swift transition from discussion of The excellence of the band and the spring of the dance floor to the difficulties of being a misunderstood and neglected spouse may sometimes be exceedingly swift and inevitably provocative of trouble, In the ideal world of the future, all conversation may be abolished entirely, and after dinner guests will sit mutely in a circle to hear loud speaker deliver its moralisings for their edification and mental improvement.
Even more recently than in the 18th century, an unaccompanied young woman would have thought twice before emerging from a London restaurant well after midnight and hailing a casual taxicab. But this is exactly what the heroine of this episode did, and as the taxi-cab bore a false number, of later on, it was oh possibilities in the di of conventions have been noticed by the criminal classes. The conversation—in reality the lack of conversation—of the driver brought the lady to realize her danger. For when she pointed out to him that the road to the north-west of London, presumably St. John's Wood, did not lie over Waterloo Bridge, he gave no other answer than to press his accelerator, with the result already indicated. That, perhaps, is an indication of the form which conversation takes nowadays The long speeches of our ancestors, to judge from the novels of their time, are not to be met with nowadays. It may be suspected that the novelists allowed their own rounded periods and faultless diction to usurp some of the functions of their characters' tongues. Let it be hoped that research will not go too deeply into this. For it would be terribly disappointing if it were discovered that D'Arcy did not make to Elizabeth those delightful protestations.in stilted sacrifice could not be made unless the Government agreed. to hand over the same amount as a contribution towards the expenses of the police. This condition is expressly stated in a resolution sdepted be the Connell, Once tt, twice shy!
But possibly the ideal world will abolish dinner parties altogether, and relieve both guests and hosts of those disquietudes which tend to make of such functions ordeals more dreaded than any in the daily round, The relief which moral delinquents afford, either by their presence or their absence, on these occasions is but imperfectly under ood. There is, for example, the inpunctual guest. He, or she, is a person for which every hostess should be grateful. The ingenuity with which the unpunctuality is explained, in spite of the fact that everyone present is fully aware that it is no recently-acquired habit, must fil the fair-minded man with admiration each time the unpunctual one has discovered some fresh source of inspiration, There is the annoying block in the traffic, the unexpected telephone message, or the idiosyncrash of the municipality in numbering the house. The real artist in unpunctuality is not ruffled, He does not rush in with an effusive apology. He has a far better mode of attack, He leisurely hands his coat and hat the assigned attendant, strolls pleasantly in to the crowded drawing-room, accepts the cigarette and.the cocktail with the comfortable air of having the whole evening before him, and ig negligently scrupulous glance at the accusing clock, but just as scrupulous in refusing to comment on its story.
Text read from the printed page and cleaned; old type leaves the occasional error.