T i EL
RHETORIC OF CONVERSATION:
OR,
BRIDLES AND SPURS
FOR
THE MANAGEMENT OF THE TONGUE.
BY
GEORGE WINFFRED HERVEY,
AUT HOR OF " THE PRINCIPLES OF COURTESY."
6" If any man offend not in word, the same is a perfect man."-JAmms,...... DDicenda tacelzdaqrie calles?-PERsIUs.
K;; uowest thou when to speak aupd wkhen to hold thy peace?"
NEW YORK:
HARPER & BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS,
329 & 331 PEARL STREET,
FRANKLIN SQUARE.
185 4.




Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1853, by
HARPER & BROTHERS,
In the Glerk's Office for the Southern District of New York.




PREFACE.
THIs work is the result of a purpose to write an original
monograph on Conversation which should keep clear of all irrelevant matter, and at the same time contain all the instruction as to the art and ethics of talking that the most ambitious
aspirant after colloquial excellence could reasonably desire.
After some laborious research, the writer came to the conclusion that no complete work on this subject exclusively has
ever been published in any country, not even in France, where
Conversation is deservedly ranked among the arts. There are
to be found, in several languages, short essays and chapters
on this subject, some of which possess great merit, though
many of them are vague and commonplace, some demoralizing,
and all incomplete. Their incompleteness, however, should
not keep any one from reading them, for though they are
small, they all, except those that have an immoral tendency,
help to cure the bad habits of talkers. The writer would
apologise for them and for parts of his own work, in the wellknown words of Galen, In medicina nihil exiguum: "In
physic nothing is little."




iv                   PREFACE.
We have a variety of works on Rhetoric, which teach the
art of speaking in public, but not one sufficient treatise on the
art of speaking in the sundry circumstances of private and
social life. Hitherto we have sought to make orators of the
few, rather than conversers of the many; not duly considering
that it is every way more desirable that the multitude of private citizens should talk well in their daily intercourse, than
that a small number of orators should know how to address
them  on stated occasions.  Even public speakers themselves
would not find it amiss to acquire some skill in this art.
Whatever design they would compass by their powers of utterance, they will, in the course of a life-time, make as many,
if not as deep marks, on their generation by their frequent
talks as by their few speeches; nor let them indulge the notion that the gifts and acquirements which make them orators
do necessarily make them conversers also. The two characters are not often united in the same person; for this reason,
among others, that the habit of addressing public bodies,
though favorable in some respects, is unfavorable in others to
excellence in conversation.
As all our great authorities in Rhetoric hold that the orator
should be a good man, so we affirm, a little more explicitly,
that the conversationist should be a man of evangelical piety.
Whether the assertion of Theremin that "eloquence is a virtue," be true or untrue, depends on the meaning he attaches
to the word eloquence: thus much, however, we do hazard,
that the highest style of colloquial eloquence is the result of
many virtues.
Possibly some readers will meet with a few observations in
this work which seem so agreeable to common sense, that they




P   EFAC E                         V
may erroneously conclude that they had themselves previously
made the like, or expressed in such simplicity and familiarity
of style, that they may be ready to impute the same property
to the thought.  If they here read what their own observation had before taught them, they ought at least to cheerfully
allow us the good sense to be of their own opinion.  These
coincidences will settle them. more firmly in the conviction of
their own wisdom, ailnd prepare them to act upon its dictates
with more fieedom  and boldness.  Should they recollect to
have seen, as possibly they may, the substance of a few of the
following admonitions in the writings of others, let them only
the more highly prize and diligently heed them, now that they
find them  still haunting themn in a different garb, and supported by fresh sanctions.
Let no one suppose that the author sets up for a conversao
tionist, or puts himself forth as an example in this particular.
He knows better his own defects than to pretend to any
such thing.  While he can lay no claim to skill in the art of
talking —as he is grievously unskilled in the art of holding
his tongue, for that matter-yet lie could wish that few would
thence conclude himi incompetent to give useful hints to those
who are in all respects his superiors.  Phcenix, who was
chosen the companion of Achilles to teach him how to speak,
never becaime so distinguished for eloquence as his heroic
pupil.  It does:not require brilliant parts to be a successful
instructor or a just critic. Machiavelli is of opinion that a
person must be one of the people in order to judge properly
of a prince.  Eve-n so it is not le who sways the colloquial
sceptre that is always best prepared to discourse of this kind of
aing'claft,, but lie who in the character of humble suibject




Vi                 PREFACE.
has been gladdened by his clemency or troubled by his
wrath.
May that God who caused the scroll of the prophet to outlive the fire on the hearth of Jehoiakim the king, and moved
the men of Ephesus to burn their magical books, either command these pages to bear some humble part in teaching the
art of conversing with propriety and profit, or speedily consign them to eternal forgetfulness.




CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I.
Page
SLENCIC................................................ 11
CHAPTER II.
CONVERSATION IN PRIVATE AND DOMESTIC LIFE................    25
CHAPTER III.
CONVERSATION OF CHRISTIANS WITH ONE ANOTHER..............  43
CHAPTER IV.
SUNDAY  CONVERSATION....................................  6
CHAPTER V.
CONVERSATION IN GENERAL SOCIETY.........................   67
CHAPTER VI.
INTERVIEWS WITH THE UNBELIEVER RELATIVE TO HIS SPIRITUAL
INTERESTS................................   90




Viii                         CONTENTS.
CHAPTER VII.
Page
RELIGIOUS CONVERSATION WITH PREJUDICED PERSONS...........  123
CHAPTER VIII.
DIScUssIONS.....................................  132
CHAPTER IX.
REPROOF.............................................  163
CHAPTER X.
FLATTERY AND PRAISE...................................   183
CHAPTER XI.
DETRACTION AND SCANDAL.................................   197
CHAPTER XII.
INTERROGATIONS.........................................  220
CHAPTER XIII.
EGOTISM AND BOASTING..................................  221
CHAPTER XIV.
ANECDOTES AND STORIES..................................  243




CONTENTS.                         ix
CHAPTER XV.
Page
WIT AND PLEASANTRY................................  266
CHAPTER XVI.
THE STYLE OF CONVERSATION..............................  269
CHAPTER XVII.
PHYSICAL HABITS IN CONVERSATION.........................  390
CHAPTER XVIII.
PREPARATION FOR CONVERSATION........................... 389
CHAPTER XIX.
ACCOMPANIMENTS OF CONVERSATION.......................   315
CHAPTER XX.
A HISTORY OF CERTAIN CONVERSATION-CLUBS, WITH SKETCHES OF
THE CONVERSATION OF JOHNSON, HANNAH MORE, COLERIDGE,
AND OTHERS......................... 323








CHAPTER I.
SILENCE.
HIIAPOCRATES, the Egyptian god of silence, was
represented holding one of his fingers on his mouth.
He was almost the only heathen deity that ever and
in the least degree deserved imitation; and those
who paid him divine honors, idolators though they
were, do not appear to have been wholly lost to the
charms of virtue. But useful as the idol may have
been to remind men of the general duty of silence,
it was deficient in this, that it did not exemplify the
duty in a variety of circumstances. It was fixed in
one posture on all occasions. It is the privilege of
the Christian to copy an Exemplar who, though he
spoke a great deal, knew when, where, and how, to
be silent. When the Scribes and Pharisees drew an
adulteress into his presence, and began to ask impertinent and insidious questions, He made no reply, but
stooped down and wrote on the ground, as though He
heard them not. What wisdom, dignity, modesty,
and tact! This was the eloquence, not of words, but
of action. When at the grave of Lazarus, his groans
were interrupted by silent weeping, the Jews, looking upon his tears, could not help exclaiming, 1" Behold how he loved him!" When He was accused by




12                 SILENCE.
his enemies before the tribunal of Pilate, He answered not a word. This was the eloquence of silent
meekness, and so powerful was it that it filled the
Roman governor with wonder. In the silent look,
which was such a pathetic rebuke to Peter, there was
an eloquence that has found no match in the history
of human oratory.
Great numbers have been ruined for the want of
skill in the art of silence.'Had lioses, the meekest
of men, but suppressed his impatience in his own
bosom, he might have been permitted to pass over
to the land of promise. tIad the children who met
Elisha bowed before himn in reverent silence, they
would not have been torn in pieces. Had Mlichel
abstained from  a little persiflage, she might have
been blessed with descendants. Had Peter been silent before his accusers, he might have saved himself tears of remorse. How many have closed their
days in shame or sorrow because they lived long
enough to say one word too many. How many who,
had they the power, would warn us in the spirit of
Sir Henry Wotten's lines, supposed to have been written by John Hoskins to his little child, Benjamin,
from the Tower where he was imprisoned for having
more volubility than the law allowed him;
" Sweet Benjamin since thou art young,
And hast not yet the use of tongue,
Make it thy slave while thou art free,
Imprison it, lest it do thee."
"Be swift to hear, slow to speak," is the apostolical precept; and even the relative number of the organs of hearing and of speaking teach as much. It




SILENCE.                  13
was a saying of Zeno, that men have one tongue and
two ears, and should therefore hear much and speak
little. If a person be moved by no other consideration than that of learning to talk well, he should not
open himself too freely in new companies and among
strangers. He should consider that every circle has
its own tone, laws of decorum, and modes of thinking
and talking, which he must learn by reserved observation, before he can safely take the lead of its conversations. It would do some people good if they could
take a course of philosophy under the instructions
of old Pythagoras. He enjoined silence on his disciples for the first two years, forbidding them during
that period either to ask questions or make remarks.
After they had thus learned to hold their tongues,
he gradually permitted them to make incquiries, and
finally to communicate their own opinions.
Laudable as a well-timed silence is, so much praise
has been lavished upon it, as to lead some to say
nothing, or next to nothing, in society. Taciturnity
is not always an indication of wisdom; it may be
the necessity of ignorance. Some who have been
taught that wise men are not great talkers, seek a
reputation for wisdom at the expense of affability.
Cyrus once said to a person who was always speechless in his presence: "If thou art a wise man thou
doest foolishly: if thou art a fool thou doest wisely."
Men of solitary and studious habits too commonly
take for granted that they are out of their element
when they are in society, and carry themselves accordingly. Though no other class of men have a
greater fund of thought, few are so much at a loss
for a theme, or hold themselves less in readiness for




14                 SILENCE.
talking. The modesty of some always draws a veil
over their splendid intellects. The pride of others
whispers to them that this is not the opportunity to
set their talents in an advantageous light. Some
have contracted habits of silent thinking which they
cannot lay aside in seasons of recreation, else they
have come from their studies with their thoughts so
confused, their powers so fretted, and their nerves
so sensitive, that they fear if they/ attempt to open
their lips they shall torture themselves ana all about
them.  Many a one has taken leave, of circles in
which there were men of letters, saying to himself,
" I have lost my time in the company of the learned."
When this distracted and absent manner is unfeigned-and we must always believe that it is, till
we know it to be otherwise —it must be pitied and
pardoned. While Thomas Aquinas was absorbed in
controversies he was invited to dine with the king of
France. He went, but was lost to those around him;
at length suddenly dropping his knife and fork, with
his eyes fixed, he struck his hand upon the table crying out, " I have confuted the Manic]eans."  For
one who is not a student to maintain a long silence,
or to break it only by irrelevant remarks, is to gain
the reputation of a dullard. Certain literary characters must pardon us if we say, that in our humble
judgment the greatest minds are free from this infirmity. The absent-minded are stumbling blocks
in society, and ought not to appear there without
making an apology for not being absent also personally.
In some, taciturnity is the dictate of a self-important spirit. They foolishly fancy that to speak to




SILENCE.                  15
another is to admit him to an equal footing with
themselves. Lacking the common sympathies of
humanity, they cast a wondering and supercilious
eye upon the generality of those who make bold to
accost them.
Again, we meet with those who are taciturn from
bashfulness. This is beautiful in young persons; and
those who labor to remove all traces of it from their
manners, are only preparing them to be impudent in
later years. But though modesty is comely in all,
bashfulness in men and women, whether it be real or
affected, is very troublesome to themselves and to
their neighbors. One can hardly be at ease in the
society of such people.  Sympathizing with their
silly looks and awkward gestures, he is apt to lose
his self-possession, and appear as timid as they.
The worst kind of silence is sullenness; and it is a
fault of many kinds of taciturnity that they are apt
to be mistaken for it. People that have much knowledge of the world very seldom manifest their ill
nature, obstinacy, or enmity in this way; they are
careful to cover their feelings beneath a more close
and comely veil. The bare suspicion that there is
a sulky person in a company, fills us with painful
apprehensions. He appears to us as if he were laboring under a load of hatred, which lie is ready
every moment to roll off upon us; it is impossible
for us in his presence to talk with freedom; he
chills and petrifies us: he is akin to the Gorgons
of classic fable, who are said to have had the power
of converting into stone every object on which they
fixed their eyes.
It must not be overlooked, however, that the most




16                SILENCE.
affable and good humored persons have their silent
moods, when it is equally tiresome to talk and to
listen. A shrewd observer will readily detect this
humor, and regulate his tongue accordingly.
Silence is, now and then, useful by way of reproof,
more particularly when it is assisted by a corresponding look. When people are talking against their
acquaintance, uttering profanities or obscenities, or
wantonly taunting us, or on any other sufficient occasion, we may resume silence in a manner that will
reprehend the talker. In such a case we must not
only hold our peace, but avoid even a smile of seeming approval. Some have so very gay and jocular
a way of rebuking, that one thinks them half delighted with the act of wickedness that called it forth.
When people bring to our ears the slanders they have
heard of others, or tell us of their own grievances on
purpose to obtain our favoring judgment or to enlist
us on their side, then silence is commonly the part
of wisdom.  A  hubbub which.is commenced by
Words, it is hardly in the power of words to hush.
Slander-bearers take heart from those who deign to
give ear to them. When a strife of tongues has once
begun in a coterie or neighborhood, the example of
one or two sealed mouths does marvels in settling
commotions and restoring peace. Of such persons
we may say what Ignatius declared concerning the
bishop of the church of Philadelphia: "u His moderation I admire; by his silence he is able to do more
than others by all their vain talk."
Do not go off in raptures at the first sight of a
work of nature or art, unless you mean to show your
enthusiasm rather than your taste. You had better




SILENCE.                  17
keep silence till you have formed some opinion.
While Sir Joshua Reynolds was at Rome, studying
the works of Raphael in the Vatican, he observed
that most strangers who came to see them, began to
praise them the moment their eyes fell upon them,
whereas he was rather disappointed with them at
first, and did not begin to appreciate them till he had
made them objects of protracted study. Minds of
sensitive and poetic mould are at first sight awed into
silence when they contemplate natural scenery of
great beauty, grandeur, or sublimity; while persons
of less taste are talkative, and are apt to give the objects before them anything but their right names.
Do not talk in church either before or after service. Silence is a mark of reverence which is due
to the place and the occasion. It is a good rule
among the Scotch to be silent at the breakings up of
congregations.  Romaine used to reprove church
gossips by knocking their heads together. Even the
ancient heathens were wont to hold their peace when
they supposed themselves in the presence of their
gods. Neither talk at a concert or where people are
listening to music. "Pour not out words," says the
son of Sirach, "where there is music, and show not
forth wisdom out of time."
Silence is also the proper language of grief. When
we are overwhelmed with any calamity our words are
few.  The Psalmist David once said, "I am  so
troubled that I cannot speak."  For this reason,
when we pay a visit of condolence we should not
talk a great deal. The expression of our compassion
and fellow-feeling we shall find scarcely less acceptable to the bereaved, than urging motives of conso



18                 SILENCE.
lation. The friends of the afflicted patriarch of Uz
behaved with singular propriety when they came to
comfort him —" They lifted up their voice and wept;
and they rent every one his mantle; and sprinkled
dust upon their heads towards heaven. So they sat
down with him upon the ground seven days and
seven nights, and none spake a word unto him, for
they saw that his grief was very great." After making every allowance for the customs of Eastern pastoral life, it may be questioned whether the talkativeness, which is somewhat customary among us
on such occasions, is any improvement on the silence
of these ancient orientals.
The fluent talker is oftener met with in society
than the accomplished listener; for this reason, perhaps, that the latter must forego his own gratification for that of others. Hie is usually a; greater favorite, and dispenses more pleasure to those around
him than the talker. And it is a mistake to suppose
that a good listener bears no part in conversation.
lie is, in truth, the only one that can shine without
envy, and speak without interruption, impertinence,
and tediousness. By an animated attention and an
intelligent look, he can be eloquent even beyond the
power of words. By a smile of assent he can show
his approbation, his interest, his delight. By a question, he may indicate his curiosity or his humility.
By starting a question for others to discuss, his deference and complaisance-by listening to tiresome
prosing, his patience-by offering a doubt, or confirming an assertion, his appreciation —by calling out
and encouraging the timid, his kindness. And yet
his silence is devoid both of servility and stateliness;




SILENCE.                  19
he pleases without flattery, and though he says few
things himself, his easy yet spirited attention incites
others to outdo themselves. Heraclitus being once
asked why he kept silence, replied, " That you may
talk"-and this is the compliment that every good
listener makes to those who are discoursing. Let
any one bring to mind those whose society has
afforded him particular pleasure, and if we are not
mistaken, he will find them to have been those who
seldom opened their mouths for any other purpose
than that they might hear him more distinctly. People often complain of the trite and vapid talk that
prevailed in companies from which they have just
come, but we may be certain that engaging discourse
is rarely wanting where there are good listeners.
More than a few pay so little attention to what is
said, that they do not know how to make a suitable
reply, or ask an apposite question. If they advance
anything, it is alien to the matter in hand, and they
say yes or no in the one place of all others the most
improper. Failing to listen to one half of our remarks, they misunderstand the other half. They ask
us to repeat, as they were thinking of something else
just then. Rousing occasionally from their dreams,
they cry out, " What was that you were saying, sir,"
"I did not understand that, sir."  Some, especially
in argumentation, will hold their peace till others
have taken their turn indeed, but will not listen to a
word they say. They are all the while employed in
framing a reply, or inwardly felicitating themselves
on a triumphant confutation as soon as occasion
offers. Solely attentive to the premises, they are
preparing to deny the conclusion, leaving the chain




20                SILENCE.
of argument that conducts to it quite out of the question. "Answer not," says the son of Sirach, "before thou hast heard the cause." And Solomon says,
"He that answereth a matter before he heareth it, it
is a folly and a shame unto him."
Interruption is the habit of the inattentive and the
rude; but only the accident of the alert and the polite. Some persons have a way of making long
pauses, so that, at the moment when you think they
have done and begin to reply, they start off anew,
saying, "Let me finish what I have to say."  Such
interruptions must happen to the best talkers. In
friendly dialogue it is occasionally allowable to
break in to finish a sentence or to improve an epithet
-to clear up a remark which threatens to prejudice
some absent person; and to check the talker when
he is going to flatter us or say something to his own
disadvantage.
Nothing is more provoking to a talker than to see
a person spring up and leave the circle when he is
saying something which he wishes to be appreciated.
"I have known," says Sir Richard Steele, " a challenge sent to a person for going out of the room
abruptly, and leaving a man of honor in the midst
of a dissertation."
When you come into company while a topic is discussing, do not request a recapitulation, but speak to
what follows. Yet it is sometimes the duty of the conversers, unasked, to explain the subject to a newcomer.
When a long story is being told, do not ask the narrator to stop and repeat for your benefit. It is apt to
make them look foolish and awkward, especially if
you are behind the time appointed for taking the




chair. Conversers should sometimes behave as the
Marquis of Abercorn, did, who determined to teach
his visitors punctuality by sitting down at dinner at
the hour named in the card, which was worded 4' at
5 o'clock precisely."'  When the time arrived only
one gentleman had come. However, they sat down
to dinner and disposed of the first course. About
six, visitors began to drop in. His lordship was at
dinner, and made no apologies as they sat down to
what remained. Others of the party arrived about
seven, and, instead of dinner, were complimented
with coffee.
There are occasions when it is not prudent to listen to a conversation, as generally when we are not
addressed and the subject does not concern us, and
particularly when persons are wrangling. In their
calmer after-thoughts they may be mortified to recollect that we heard what they said; and besides, we
may be tempted to take sides, and so involve ourselves in the contention.
There is one kind of silence that is almost too contemptible to deserve mention. We mean that silence
which some ill-bred men are a long time breaking to
those who ask of them a favor, or request their attention to some business which needs to be immediately
despatched, and which requires but a moment, and
not the slightest forethought, to transact. They like
to keep people in suspense, and would seem to find
self satisfaction in the thought that they are like
those princes whose palaces are thronged with subjects who are detained for weeks awaiting the answer to their petitions; or like the great English
equity lawyer, Lord Eldon, for whose learned de



22                 SILENCE.
cisions, as tardy as they were profound, the client
waited long in consuming anxiety, and starved while
the chancellor mused.
It is no very courteous practice for people to maintain strict silence when they are unknown to each
other, as when persons are brought together at a
house before the master or mistress has appeared. I
had rather have my ear-drums beaten all day long
than to endure such a dumb-show for five minutes.
This sort of silence is a most refined torture. It is
wrong to suppose we cannot speak to people till we
have learned their names.
We must not be loquacious in the hearing of those
sly listeners who catch our words from our lips, and
lay them up in their memories with the intent to report them to our disadvantage. They practise great
reserve in their intercourse with strangers, but contrive to call them out and encourage them to lay
open all their hearts to them. They will listen to
you, and, if needs be, applaud you; but it is only
when you speak your mind, and give them a clew to
the weak points in your character. Some put on a
seeming ignorance, that they may ascertain how
much others know; or, under an air of indifference,
hide an eager desire for secret and personal information. Others, more crafty still, compass the same
object by great volubility, in order to embolden their
victims to declare themselves without reserve. Without being suspicious, we should be on our guard
against this kind of double-dealers.
To little purpose shall we attempt to master this
difficult art unless we learn to rule our own spirit.
The mind is the real source of most of the faults that




SILENCE.                       23
are committed in conversation. Let this be in subjection to Divine Grace in all who would cultivate
the proprieties of speech. A wise ancient remarks
that it is the gods alone who inspire the wisdom of
silence; and a wiser than he has said that " the preparation of the heart and the answer of the tongue are
from the Lord."
We have little hope of effecting any durable reform in the conversation of those whose hearts are not
undergoing the transformations of sanctifying grace.
Moral precepts are all but lost upon those whose unrenewed nature is continually repelling them.  In
vain do we cleanse and whitewash the door of the
sepulchre so long as the inner walls are reeking with
corruption. Says the apostle James, "'Every kind
of beasts, and of birds, and of serpents, and of things
in the sea, is tamed, and hath been tamed of mankind, but the tongue can no man tame; it is an unruly evil." Yet the same apostle would have Christians bridle the tongue. After Divine Power has
subdued it, we may do something towards managing
it. To our hands He resigns, not the lasso, but the
bridle.
Whoever knows how to listen to a rude, tedious,' or
conceited talker, with attention and civility, neither
complaining of impertinences nor hinting to others
that he knows what good breeding is, if they do not;'Be not a button holder. One can easily ascertain when a person
he meets wishes to talk. If he is walking with a hurried step, do not
stop him; or if this is necessary, detain him but a moment; even then,
it is better to turn about and hurry along with him till you have spoken your word. When a professional man is called from his office, or
a student from his books, deliver your message with all possible despatch. Have not the vanity to think that great novelty of thought,




24                      SILENCE.
but, overlooking  the  untold  irregularities  of  the
tongue, and counting them  as nothing-such a one,
however ignorant and ungifted and ungainly he may
be, shows that he is, at least, not wanting in meekness, a virtile which has no fellow in the whole circle
of exterior graces —a virtue which is one of the most
amiable peculiarities of the Christian, and a chief
qualification for the society of fallible beings.
even though you can deliver it with great suaviloquence, will be gladly
received by those whose minds are preoccupied. Long talks are neVer
to be allowed, except among fast friends who have an abundance of
leisure. In the Hindoo paradise two deities are represented as sitting
engaged in eternal conversation. This may do very well for a heathen
paRAdise, but it will never answer on this whirling planet.




CHAPTER II.
CONVERSATION IN PRIVATE AND DOMESTIC LIFE.
NUMBERS that can entertain the occasional assemblies of their friends and acquaintance, or the conversation clubs to which they belong, with the variety, grace, and brilliance of their discourse, do not
know how to adapt their tone and style to the members of the family circle. They are not skilled in
those cadences of kindness that soothe the dull ear
of age and the sensitive ear of weariness, affliction,
and pain. They have never learned to take part in
the prattlements of children, and to attemper the
light of instruction to their budding faculties. They
cannot greet the poor and the dependent with those
words of good will and encouragement which are
more melodious than the chink of gold, and are laden
with sympathies that are more precious than rubies.
Home, to those who are so happy as to have one,
must ever be the principal scene of entertainment
and vexation, moral conflict and victory, joy and sorrow. Over this spot must ever hover the dearest and
holiest memories. IHfere the world search after the
secret springs of action, and find a solution of the
mysteries of our character and career, and thence
the angelic recorder brings the chief items for the
B




26       CONVERSATION  IN PRIVATE
doomsday-book. To home are our destinies chained,
from the morning dawn of life till its departing hour.
That, then, is a most sterling accomplishment, which
serves to gladden, instruct, and warn those who are
wont to gather there. It matters little whether the
fickle multitude applaud or hiss, bless or curse those
who are on good terms with their relatives and domestics, and, by kind words and gentle acts, endear
themselves to these. Unsuccessful though they be
in the strife and tumult of the world, they still have
it in their power to perform
" Deeds
Above heroic, though in secret done."
Milton.
There is, perhaps, no fault more characteristic of
modern conversation than an irreverence for age.
The command, " Thou shalt rise up before the hoary
head, and honor the face of the old man," would
seem to be thought obligatory only on the people of
a former dispensation. But neither time nor place
can alter or abrogate this law. Were the aged no
longer sensible of neglect and disrespect, then their
might be some color of reason for the abolition of
this statute; but the sensibilities of the aged pilgrim
of this generation are the same with those of the
gray-headed man of the olden time. How much soever the people of the world may be wanting in these
assiduities to the aged, it ill becomes the Christian
to deny them, in any instance, that reverence and
kindness which both religion and nature require.
Their petulance or childishness can never justify our
impatience, disrespect, or inattention. Great deference should be felt for their opinion. When infor



AND DOMESTIC LIFE.                 27
mation is desired as to a matter that is familiar to
them, they should first be consulted, always taking
care, however, not to ask them any question which is
likely to expose their ignorance, or the decay of their
memory or other faculties. When a discussion is
going on, our seniors must be attentively heard before we presume to put forth our own reasons.
Young Elihu, the spirited opponent of Job, and his
three friends, did not suffer his zeal for truth to encroach upon the honor that was due to years. He
held his peace till all had spoken, because they were
older than he, and did not begin to answer them till
he perceived they had all concluded their remarks.
Old people like to be reminded of their age as
associated with wisdom, experience, and virtue, but
not as implying infirmity and dotage. Some, it is
true, take a kind of pleasure in describing their diseases and complaining of their pains.  But the.greater number, though they like to have us sympathize with their infirmities, do not wish us to dwell
at great length on the subject. Some one who called
on Dr. Johnson, in his old age, says that he soon dispatched the inquiries that were made about his illness, by a short and distinct narrative; and then
assuming a gay air, repeated from Swift:
"Nor think of our approaching ills,
And talk of spectacles and pills."
In conversing with sick persons, the attendant
should suit his topics to their mood. When they are
melancholic he should not, in general, talk in a lively
or humorous strain. "As he that taketh away a gar,
ment in cold weather, and as vinegar upon nitre; so




28       CONVERSATION  IN  PRIVATE
is he that singeth songs to a heavy heart." When
they show a desire to forget their malady, he should
transport their minds as far as possible from the sick
bed, and especially keep clear of all gloomy and
funereal considerations. He should praise their patience when they exercise it, return the mildest answers to their chidings, and listen to their groans as
if they were the most plaintive melodies. In answer
to their murmurs, he must not inform them that he
was himself once afflicted with the same disease, except when it may serve to inspire them witl the hope
of a speedy recovery. Ite should be so attentive to
their wants, and alive to their condition, as to forget
his own indispositions which have been occasioned
by watching and confinement. He should express
joy and gratitude for any signs of recovery, and not
call their attention to any change he may discover
in their features, unless it is for the better, nor remark that it will be a long time before they are quite
recovered.
When the sick person and the attendant are both
pious, the work of consolation will, in most cases, be
easy. A knowledge of the Scripture promises, skill
in applying them, strong faith and habitual prayerfulness, are the principal aids to the performance of
this duty. We must not omit to mention the efficacy
of sacred music, in cases where the afflicted saint has
any perception of harmony. The uses of music in
the sick room have hitherto received much less attention than they deserve. The Scotch gipsies were
wont to deem their songs of sovereign efficacy in diseases, and no doubt they were in some cases.
When the sick one is an unbeliever, the attendant




AND DOM[ESTIC LIFE.                29
must, it is scarcely worth while to say, manage according to his temper, abilities, and principles.  A
nurse or other person, who is in constant waiting, can
better administer to the spiritual wants of the sick,
than a physician, whose calls must be brief, and
perhaps at distant intervals, though the latter is by
no means to be excused from a faithful performance
of this duty. When the physician or the nurse has
won the affection and confidence of patients, by
many obliging attentions, he has prepared the way
for the most successful appeals to their heart and conscience.1  They will not be slow to believe that a
person who shows such a benevolent care for their
bodies, is equally solicitous for the welfare of their
souls. The proper discharge of this duty demands
wisdom as well as piety. Still, we must not be so
lithe and circuitous in our address as to diminish the
momentum of the truth. When the person is unconcerned, we must urge alarming considerations, and
we should aim to startle him to a degree that will
make him lose all thoughts of our manner, in an
overwhelming anxiety about his relations to the Redeemer, and his preparation for eternity. Perhaps
the patient confesses his ignorance of the gospel, and
asks us to instruct him, but does not wish us to go
beyond instruction.  Nevertheless, we should go on
to convince him that his very ignorance aggravates
his guilt before God, asking him in the spirit of our
Lord's question to iNicodernlus, "'Art thou a master
of Israel and knowest not these things?"  Another
passively admits what we say, but does not feel its
1 See letters of Dr. Burder to a Young Physician, annexed to
"Memoirs of Dr. Hope."




30      CONVERSATION IN PRIVATE
force; then we must earnestly enlarge upon it, and
set it home to the conscience. It will not be enough
to rouse any sort of feeling; as to dissolve him in
tears, to fill him with alarms, or provoke his opposition. We should not give over till we find him a
true disciple of Christ. Some will resolutely withstand all our attempts to engage their thoughts on the
side of their salvation.  They either take g ound
against the Gospel itself, or attempt to keep us at a
distance, by taunts and reproaches. Yet, though we
should declare to them the whole counsel of God,
we should receive their angry retorts with coinpassion and meekness.  Such a behavior on our part
will, in many cases, prove the most powerful rebuke
to their consciences, show them their own depravity,
and direct them to the Saviour.
As to those who would keep us back from serious
addresses to the sick, by the plea that they would
hasten the dissolution or delay the recovery of the
patient, they are for the most part persons who are
more tender of the bodies than of the souls of men.
What if religious conversation should shorten his
days; were it not better that this should result, than
that his life being prolonged by an utter neglect of
his soul, both his soul and body should be eventually
swallowed up in hell.? Whether such exhortations
will be hurtful to the health of a patient, must often
depend on the spirit and manner in which they are
made. Where these are what they should be, few,
very few will suffer physical detriment by conversation or prayer. So far from it, could facts bear
testimony, they would, we doubt not, show that
multitudes have owed their recovery to the faith



AND DOMESTIC LIFE.               31
fulness of their spiritual guides during their sickIless.
Impressions made on the near prospect of death
are not unfrequently effaced by returning health.
The pious attendant should remind the convalescent
of the vows he made in sickness, and entreat him to
gird himself with the pious resolution of the psalmist:
" I will go into thy house with burnt ofierirngs. I will
pay there my vows, which my lips uttered when I
was in trouble."
Tact and address are of much service in comforting the mourner and the heart-stricken. Although
a tender and sympathizing spirit is the first and the
indispensable qualification, much depends on the use
of expedients to lead away the thoughts of the
afflicted from their troubles. In fact, so numerous
and multiform are the diseases of the mind brought
on by sins, follies, trials and reverses, it is surprising
that medical men have not set themselves more earnestly to find out preventives and remedies for them,
instead of suffering them to rage till their victims
are prepared to end their days in lunatic hospitals.
They must know that the keenest and most dreadful
pains are those of the mind; and many of them, we
trust, are feeling a growing interest* in this department of mental science. We doubt not that the
general prevalence of the principles of the gospel
will scatter most of the noxious vapors that have now
settled down upon the mental world, and are destroying some of the noblest sons of genius. Daily experience attests that divine grace is potent to drive
from the soul remorse, doubt, fear, sorrow, and a long
train of other disturbing feelings.'




32      CONVERSATION IN PRIVATE
One of the highest excellences of human speech
is its power tod comfort, and that not merely the
mourner, but the disappointed, the unfortunate, the
perplexed, the wronged, and the oppressed. Within
the circle of our own family we may find repeated
occasion for this noble office of the tongue. How
does a word of encouragement from  the lips of
friendship and love raise our sinking spirits, and
nerve them for high undertakings; how does the
word of hope support us in the exhausting and
doubtful struggles of life; how do the promises of a
faithful God, repeated to us at some difficult stage
of our pilgrimage, carry us smoothly and quickly
over it. When a concurrence of petty mishaps has
brought the family circle into an irritable mood-or
when it seems as if a ban of silence were laid upon
the lips of all, or every heart is sad, it knows not
why —how angelic is the voice that can revoke the
edict, call up the memories of happier hours, and draw
covenanted hearts into free and cheerful conference.
It is commonly thought a great inconsistency that
some of those who are accomplished in the art of
pleasing a circle of acquaintance, show no skill in
consoling the unhappy members of their own house.
hold, being affable and complacent in public, but
morose and disobliging in private. But this seeminc
incongruity is explained the moment we reflect that
the tempei of such persons is naturally ungovernable,
and that though they are able to manage it during
an hour of general joyousness, they cannot hold it
in check through all the days and years of private
vexation and care. Passions that were swayed by
admiration, flattery and hilarity, whilst around them,




AND DOMRESTIC  LIFE.              33
assert their native freedom  as soon as they have
passed the borders of the empire of those alien and
controlling influences.  In the world they found
variety and novelty; in the domestic circle they
find what is trite and monotonous.  People of
fashion appear to best advantage when they are removed from  themselves and familiar scenes, and are
lost in the parade and festivity of fashion's carnivals; whereas the people of God grow more and more
lovely in our eyes, as we follow them  into each
smaller circle, and approach their hearts-those pure
and perennial springs of satisfaction and peace.
The intercourse of private life calls into service a
more active attention and a finer delicacy than the
occasional concourses of general society.  In the
former, persons of an ungentle spirit are daily, if
not hourly, disturbing the peace of a few; in the
latter, they can appear but seldom, and he who has
once suffered from their misbehavior can shun them
for the future. In the latter, people meet for the express purpose of pleasing and being pleased; in the
former, the turbulent are to be quieted, the vexed to
be soothed, heart-aches cured, antipathies reconciled,
foibles indulged, and an ardent and life-long affection to be fostered. He who makes levies on the patience of a whole party may easily be tolerated, since
the tribute of each will be small, and will be required
a few hours only; but when the same tax is laid on
a single heart, it becomes most oppressive; especially when the exactions are made daily for years.
Who can calculate the amount of pain which an unkind spirit thus inflicts on those who are bound to it
by the inviolable ties of kindred.




34        CONVERSATION IN PRIVATE
"The hint malevolent, the look oblique,
The obvious satire, or implied dislike;
The sneer equivocal, the harsh reply,
And all the cruel language of the eye;
The artful inquiry whose venomed dart
Scarce wounds the hearing while it stabs the heart.
The guarded phrase whose meaning kills, yet told,
The listener wonders how you thought it cold;
Small slights, neglect, unmixed perhaps with hate,
Make up in number what they want in weight.
These and a thousand griefs minute as these,
Corrode our comfort and destroy our ease."
Mlrs. H. Mlore.
He who can talk to the entertainment and improvement of children, has mastered one of the last
difficulties in the art of conversation.  He ought to
possess a vivid recollection of what he once was,
much knowledge of human nature, a wide range of
illustration, a ready command of Saxon and other
simple words, and especially an acquaintance with
the idioms and provincialisms that are current among
children in certain places. If all this, it may be said,
is required in order to talk with children, few people
are equal to the duty. But allowing this and a great
deal besides, we ought to make the best use we can
of our abilities, and supply by study, reflection, and
especially by practice, the deficiencies of nature.
In conversing with the young, living examples and
ocular illustrations  should  often  be brought forward.  The Spartans showed their knowledge of human nature by bringing a drunken slave into the
public place, that their children might look upon him
and be so disgusted with the unseemliness of intoxication as forever afterwards to be on their guard
against it. HIorace holds his father in grateful re



AND DOMESTIC LIFE.               35
membrance for having kept him from vice by showing him the bad consequences of it in known examples. Cecil says he imprinted on the mind of his
daughter the idea of faith at a very early age, by
persuading her to throw some beads into the fire in
reliance on his superior wisdom and tried goodness.
We take for granted that the reader is familiar with
the example which may be found in "Cecil's Remains." The incident is related in this great conversationist's most energetic style, and is replete with instruction. It shows not only how we may teach the
intellect just notions of religion, but also how we may
discipline the heart in the exercise of the trust, submission, and self-denial which are essential to the
reception and practice of evangelical precepts.
There is much reason to fear that the Bible is allowed to take too little part in the religious instruction of children, and that pious parents do not often
enough resort to it for matter of conversation with
them. Catechisms and other religious books are
made almost exclusively the starting points of religious remark. These are excellent in their place,
but should never be allowed to engage more attention than the Bible. Nor should parental authority
and example in religious matters be suffered to take
the place of it. Few children will regard those religious obligations as very binding which they are
not wont to trace to anything higher than the will
of their parents; for they early learn that there is
a higher authority before which all must bow equally
low. Their own observation convinces them that the
Bible-in Christian countries at least-holds the supremacy in all spiritual concerns. They see their pa



36      CONVERSATION IN PRIVATE
rents, their neighbors, the clergy, legislators, laws, occupations, and even time itself, paying homage to the
Word of God. If they respect one thing more highly than another, it must be that volume which is reverenced by those whom they revere, and commands
those whom they obey. Parents should, therefore,
habitually read and quote the lively oracles in instructing their children in religious knowledge, and
read parts of them at the morning and evening devotions of the family. When the children are remiss,
let the Bible correct them; when they do well, let it
encourage them; when they are to be instructed, let
it inform them; when they complain, let it teach
them submission; when they are in trouble, let it
comfort them; when they would argue a religious
question, let it reason with them. Let Jehovah speak
in his own pure and commanding voice. Not that
parents should lay aside their own authority in bringing them to submit to wholesome moral discipline;
for parental obedience is an important part of such
discipline. Only let Holy Writ occupy the first place
in the minds of children, and let them be taught to
regard the divine law as paramount to human precepts. So shall they ever have an ever-present monitor, and still be reminded of duty when the instructions of their youth shall have faded from their memories as things long past.
Let parents also teach their children the lessons of
creation and Providence as they are interpreted by
the Sacred Word. They, and they only, can penetrate the mysteries that veil the world, who go forth
to view the works of God, and study his dealings with
their Bible open in their hands. Yet, with all these




AND DOMESTIC LIFE.              37
means of instruction, the parent may fail of his duty
by neglecting to watch for opportunities to make and
fix moral impressions on the tender heart. TWe saw
this duty well illustrated not long ago, while we were
passing some hours in the galleries of the Academy
of the Fine Arts in Philadelphia. A member of the
Society of Friends had brought in his little son to
show him West's great painting of " Christ Healing
the Sick."  The day was cloudy and did not throw a
good light upon the picture, especially on the benevolent countenance of our Saviour. They stood before it some time, till the boy grew impatient, but
the father kept his own eyes still fixed on the work
of West, his immortal friend.  Suddenly the sun
came out, and the father exclaimed, "Ivow look, my
son!" as he pointed to the Great I-Iealer's countenance, which was lit up with such a glory as helped
to explain to us how it was that the votaries of pictured saints had seen them kindle up with miraculous smiles. There are times when the Holy Spirit
does throw an unwonted radiance on the compassionate blow of the incarnate Redeemer, on human guiltiness and woe, on His power to regenerate and
renew; and wise is the father or the mother that
prayerfully and laboriously waits for such openings
in the clouds, and, at the happy moment, exclaims,
"Now look, my son!"  Let him also improve times
when a striking providence or a beautiful landscape
flashes back truth, the light of God. Children may
early acquire not only a love for the charms of nature, but alacrity in discerning the fingers of God
busy upon all his works. Bryant, whose inspiration
is the love of nature, tells us how he formed in




38       CONVERSATION  IN  PRIVATE
the heart of a little girl of four years a like passion:
"For I have taught her with delighted eye
To gaze upon the mountains, to behold
With deep affection the pure ample sky,
And clouds along its blue abysses rolled.
To love the song of waters, and to hear
The melody of winds with charmed ear."''
It may seem needless even to mention the detestable practice of objurgation, or to give its own fitting
Saxon title, scolding. Would it were so; for we are
loth to defile our page with the word. But we are
compelled to say that not a few who plume themselves on their conversational powers, fail most grievously in the spirit and mode of their commands to
their children. They would be very sorry to be accounted scolds, and scolds of the more infuriated
kind they are not: only they do all the mischief of
these creatures without incurring their odium. They
may want their clamor, but' have their rudeness.
They may not equal them in cursing, but they do in
teazing. When ordering their children or servants
to do anything, they add, "Be sure not to do as I
tell you," or, in sending them on an errand, "Mind
what I say, and don't be in haste; be sure to stay all
day."  We should shun every way of addressing
them that provokes resentment. The apostolic injunction is, "Fathers, provoke not your children to
wrath." When a child is angry, it should be treated
with mildness, and soothed by appeals to conscience
and to reason. Commands should be well considered,
never repeated, and always enforced.  Strictness
should be tempered with calmness and tenderness.




AND DOMESTIC LIFE.              39
There can be no doubt that the difference between a
scolding parent and one in whose lips is the law of
kindness, has made the difference between a murderer and a philanthropist.
As to servants, we must not only, as just now intimated, never stoop to rave at them, but never dispute
with them. Whether we gain the point or not, we
are sure to lose their respect. We must address them
in a firm yet mild tone. We must request them to
execute our commands as if we left it to their own
pleasure whether they would do us a favor or not;
and when they have rendered us a service, we
should give them some intimation of our gratitude,
if not at least of our approbation. It is in general
imprudent to make servants our confidants unless we
have bound them to secresy by extraordinary liberality. We should not converse with the servants of
our host, nor reprove our own in the presence of
guests. Let us also avoid the common practice of
entertaining others with accounts of the falsehoods,
thefts, and insults of our domestics.
We cannot be too much on our guard against treating the poor with neglect or disrespect on account of
their poverty. And this caution is as applicable to
our behavior towards our poor domestics as towards
those poor people who do not live under our roof;
for there are those who spend half their time in visiting the cottages of the poor, and supplying their
wants, and the other half in quarrelling with their
own servants about their bad economy, and in contriving ways of paying them the exact amount of
wages they have earned, and nothing beyond. Such
is the prevailing sycophancy to pelf, that the Chris



40      CONVERSATION  IN PRIVATE
tian can never enough keep in mind that wealth cannot, of itself, confer personal worth, or make a man
more entitled to our deference than his indigent servant or neighbor. It is this mean and blind devotion the poor everywhere behold paid to mammon,
that makes them so jealous of their rights, and ever
keeps alive their suspicion. Equivocal remarks are
interpreted unfavorably to themselves. Slights and
oversights are regarded as personal affronts. Counsels are interpreted as upbraidings, and pleasantry
received as derision. They put forth an opinion
tremblingly, and are wounded when it is disputed.
They have too much cause to think that, were their
own opinions put into the mouths of the rich, they
would have been heard with applause and repeated
as oracular.
Though most men are ambitious of the accomplishments which make them pleasing among their
superiors or equals in wealth, they are very neglectful
of the conduct that commends them to the poor.
The etiquette of the cottage is less easily learned
than that of the court. If it has not as much dignity, it has the more condescension; if not as much
flattery, the more encouragement; if less ceremony,
the more compassion. Let the disciple of the Nazarene be equally observant of the marks of respect
towards the poor and the rich. It is a great reproach
to the politeness of the world that its offices are
chiefly intended for superiors and equals as to fortune; like the peculiar languages of some' heathen
despotisms, where a special phraseology is kept in
use, to be employed only by the inferior in his




AND DOMESTIC LIFE.                41
trembling colloquy with a superior.3  Our Lord was
the first to teach an unselfish and humble courtesy
towards the poor and the unfortunate. Said he to
his host, the chief Pharisee: "' When thou makest a
feast, call the poor, the maimed, the lame, the blind."
This precept forbids us to confine our social generosities to those only who can equally administer to
our gratification, or for each mark of regard make a
return in kind. Neither does the mere alms-receiver
alone call for our benevolent attentions. The dependent, or the acquaintance, or the relative of the opulent, who is, it may be, domesticated in their families,
are always hurt by a cold or reserved demeanor on
the part of their benefactors. We should not remind
them, or others in their presence, of their dependence, nor insinuate by our behavior that their dependence is any disparagement to them. It is not
enough that we provide merely for the bodily wants
of the needy, we must also show a solicitude for their
mental tranquillity and ease; and do all in our power
to keep them from gliding into solitude and neglect.
A number of richly-dressed people were, one cold
day, gathered round a stove in a ferrwy-house. An
old man of shabby exterior, who sat shivering behind
those who had crowded before him, made a civil remark, with a view to break the silence that oppressed
him, and draw some one into conversation. There
was no other reply than a leer at his rags. I-e spoke
again, when a young man who had hitherto held his
peace, manifestly fromn deference to his superiors,
3 See " Bagster's Bible of Every Land," (Mexican language), p. 384;
and " Transactions of Amer. Ethnolog. Society" for 1845, p. 28.




42   CONVERSATION IN PRIVATE LIFE.
ventured a kind and respectful answer. Whereupon
the old man smiled heartily, and seemed on a sudden to forget alike his poverty and his age in the
thought that he was not yet cut off from all the sympathies of his fellow-mortals. IHe manifests a doubtful benevolence, who sends his coin to the needy,
while he is too proud to speak to them. He does
little more than remind them of their poverty and
their increased obligations to him. He who never
fancies that his own wealth adds to his worth, and
that poverty takes anything from the worth of his
neighbor, possesses a greatness of soul which the
votaries of mammon despise, because they are too
deeply degraded to appreciate it.




CHAPTER III.
CONVERSATION OF CHRISTIANS WITH ONE ANOTHER.
TiE church is the oasis where the social virtues
best thrive and mature. Her firequent occasions of
bringing together the faithful, afford every facility
for the commerce of brotherly affection, and the circulation of desirable thought. The people of the
world are connected by selfish ties and transient
interests. They generally assemble at wide intervals,
and many of their friendships do not outlive a single
season. With the people of God it is not so. They
are bound together by ties that are benevolent, delightful, strong and ever growing stronger. They
meet weekly, and many even daily. They assemble
in circles rising in numbers from the private prayermeeting to the great congregation.4 lNor is this their
intercourse limited to one congregation. Their more
general interests collect them firom all parts of states
and nations. Thus are assembled the elements of
a high-toned, liberal and improving conversation.
And the effects of this intercourse are heightened by
a divine agency, which is continually cooperating
with the social principle. As the pebbles are assem4 See " Principles of Courtesy," Part II., Chap. XIII.




44    CONVERSATION  OF CHRISTIANS
bled on the beach, and mutually polished by the
chafing waves, even so the souls of the saints are
wrought into comely forms by being gathered into
communion under the grace which moves upon them
as it comes from the eternal world. And it is this
grace alone that can prepare the social principle to
polish and beautify our shattered nature.
And in proportion to the piety of professors, will
be the desire to meet for religious conversation. It
is the testimony of the sacred historian, that after the
miraculous effusion of the Holy Spirit on the day of
Pentecost, the disciples daily broke bread from house
to house, and ate their bread with gladness and singleness of heart. The outpouring of supernatural
gifts, attended with the appearance of a fountain of
light, streaming forth upon each disciple a tongue
of lambent flame, the general exultation that would
naturally follow this dedication of the Christian temple, together with an ardent brotherly love and a
faith unbeclouded by doubts, frequently drew the
first formed church together in separate groups at
different houses in the city, and supplied themes for
joyful and open-hearted conversation. Besides these
advantages peculiar to their condition, there was
another in the gift of speaking in foreign languages,
by the help of which the natives of widely-sundered
regions, once strangers to each other, because they
had no common mediums of speech, could now blend
their minds and interchange the truths of revelation.
If there are any two qualities that make Christian
society distinct from any other, they are the gladness
and simplicity of heart which were so conspicuous
in the primitive assemblies of the disciples. There




WITH ONE ANOTHER.                45
is a joyousness in the circles of believers which is not
often met with elsewhere. WThat disciple that ever
went to an assembly of his brethren with a sad spirit,
did not take leave of that sadness very soon after he
had joined the happy company. On the other hand,
how often has the man of the world, who had cherished bright anticipations of the next party, been
overtaken with a sort of stupefaction the moment he
entered the circle, and felt disappointment and disgust when he left it. This same gladness prevails
in all their meetings, whether they come together to
interchange the common tokens of fraternal affection,
or to contribute their substance or service to the gospel cause, or are driven together as sheep by wolves.
Their disinterested benevolence puts to flight all
cold calculations and dark anxieties, and leaves the
mind in a state of unconcern and abandonment,
which is congenial with cheerfulness. When they
are maltreated and maligned for Christ's sake, they
are exceeding glad by reason of the assurance which
persecution gives them of a great celestial reward.
The sight of one suffering wrong with cheerfulness
and rejoicing, is enough to send a gleam of light
across the darkest soul. For my part, I can hardly
ever figure to myself the.scene of the primitive confessors taking joyfully the spoiling of their goods,
without feeling a fellow pleasure; and though removed from them  at the distance of eighteen centuries, I catch the sympathy of their transported
hearts and gladsome countenances.
We must not, however, let this feeling degenerate
into levity, as it is apt to do when it is not supported
by other evangelical virtues. There are not a few




46     CONVERSATION  OF CHRISTIANS
professors who allow themselves to lay aside their
spiritual weapons, and suffer all their sentinels to fall
asleep whenever they are in Christian society. But
let them not suppose they can safely be off their
watch, because they are secure against the temptations of secular companies.  Let them  not dream
that the assemblies of their brethren are protected
by bands of armed angels.  Let them  remember
that it was in Eden, that the tempter laid his first
and most fatal snares. It is only the vigilant spirit
that is able to hit upon that
"Mirth, which after no repenting draws;"
and it is singular, that though only a thread of gossamer separates cheerfulness from levity, the former
is becoming to piety, and the latter is inconsistent
with it.
After all, we must not commit the mistake of those
who are afraid of all pleasant talk which is not directly improving or useful. Such people would find
it hard to justify Job for saying, "Ye are the men
and wisdom will die with you;" and Elijah for ridiculing the vociferations of the prophets of I3aal. INor
could they quote with a good grace such scripture
proverbs as these: " all the days of the afflicted are
evil; but he that is of a merry heart hath a continual feast." "A merry heart doeth good like medicine; but a broken spirit drieth the bones."
Singleness of heart, the other quality which is peculiar to pious society, gives a kind of graceful negligence to the deportment which, while it cannot be
exactly described, may be found in that medium
which is as far from the studied ease of the courtier,




WITH ONE ANOTHER.                 47
as it is from the rude familiarity of the clown. It is
akin to the unreserve we often witness in the young.
It is the frankness of a, child who is not sensible that
there is in his mind a single faulty idea, and innocently speaks his uppermost thoughts. It is a conduct so transparent, that the heart may always be
seen through it. It is imitated by those who, when
they would appear pleased, torture their faces into a
sardonic smile; when they would appear honest, are
garrulous and bold.  When they would demonstrate
their frankness, they betray some vice or other that
they ought to have kept concealed; or if they are
more crafty, they make the openness of their demeanor throw their real character into the shade.
This virtue, like every other, has its pretenders; who
closely copy it, and for which the counterfeit is very
frequently mistaken.
This cordiality sometimes engenders a fireedom
that greatly detracts from gravity and respecot. This
fieedomrn, again, leads many to petulence and querulousness. Having admitted them to our confidence,
they treat us as though we were no longer firee agents,
but solely the to-ols of their will. It is, to be sure,
the bounden duty of brethren to " be subject one to
another in love," but there ought to be some limits
set to complaisant submission.
Another of the abuses of sincerity, is the confidential talk in which brethren are wont to indulge themselves; as the laying open of personal affairs, the
dissecting of characters, and the handling of ecclesiastical difficulties. They think it not amiss to make
remarks in an under-tone, which should not have
been made at all. Brethren often talk with the ex



48    CONVERSATION OF CHRISTIANS
pectation that nothing that is said in the circle, is to
be reported out of it. IHow often is the expectation
disappointed.  In the most faithful band, there is
almost always some one who seizes the first opportunity to betray the confidence reposed in him, and
who, while his lips are yet wet with the sacramental
cup, goes forth to defame those who sat with him
around the sacred board; or if he has no evil intention, yet by misquoting our remarks, or repeating
them out of their connection, and to malignant ears,
he does us as great a mischief as the most insidious
foe-an injury not a little aggravated by the thought
that it was inflicted by a brother. As we muse upon
it, we are forced to take up the satirical lament of
David: " It was not an enemy that reproachaed me;
then could I have borne it; neither was it he that
hated me, that did magnify himself against me;
then I would have hid myself firom him; but it was
thou, a man, mine equal, my guide and mine acquaintance. We took counsel together; and walked
to the house of God in company."
Yet let not such betrayals of confidence make you
suspicious. You will always gain more by relying
on the integrity of others than by habitually holding
it in distrust. There is no man I would sooner trust
than the rogue whom I had detected, and who knew
that I had detected him. "i M. De Witt," says Sir
William Temple, " told me he had been very suspicious
when he first became pensionary; but had been so
often deceived by it that he had cured himself of that
quality." A friend of Sir Henry Wotton's, qualifying
himself for the office of ambassador, requested of
him some practical rule to guide him in diplomatic




WITH ONE ANOTHER.                 49
affairs. Sir Henry smiling, said, "'To be in safety
yourself, and serviceable to your country, you should
always and upon all occasions, speak the truth; for
you shall never be believed; and by this means you
will secure yourself, if you shall ever be called to an
account, and it will also put your adversaries to a
loss (who will still hunt counter), in all their disquisitions and undertakings." Besides, your crafty and
disguised characters almost always by some accident
or other let drop their mask before their plot is executed. They make us close and taciturn. They provoke us to put their boasted sagacity and circumspection to the test, and to set ourselves to hoodwink
them by taking advantage of their craftiness. Openhearted and open-handed honesty inspires its like in
all. I think it is Baron Knigge, who very wisely advises us to treat persons whom we have reason to
suspect of artifice and intrigue with openness and
candor, frankly to declare ourselves enemies to the
double-hearted and the double-tongued, and warm
admirers of honesty, thus making them sensible
how much they would lose in our esteem, if ever we
should surprise them in crooked paths.
Again, this excess of sincerity occasionally leads
brethren to make each other their father-confessors.
In their open-minded converse, one tells of his hairbreadth escapes from temptation; another confesses
his ruling passion, another tells us how profligate, intemperate, or vain he was in the days of his impenitency, and tells stories illustrative of his former character. Some gratify their vanity by discoursing on
their peculiar notions and whims; their weaknesses
and idiosyncracies; their likes and dislikes; they can



60    CONVERSATION OF CHRISTIANS
not dissemble; they say; they must tell us all. Others
lament their backslidings, wanderings and captivities. Now, these persons would be very sorry that
we should think their overwrought accounts exactly
true. Were they to suspect that we would take themn
at their own valuation, they would no longer speak
in terms of self-depreciation. And were we to hint
to them, with all gentleness, the importance of correcting the very faults they so willingly accuse
themselves of, we should provoke their resentment.
Though we are commanded to confess our faults
one to another, we ought to consider that the injunction is limited by circumstances. If our sin does not
wrong our neighbor or bring reproach on the church,
we are not bound to confess it. When it harms
another, or he lays it to our charge, then it is time
enough to show our sincerity by acknowledging it,
without apology or palliation. When we are at variance with our brother, then it will be noble to censure ourselves, to make concessions or to admit the
justness of the charges that are preferred against
us, to confess our faults to the aggrieved party, and
to entreat his forgiveness. Also when we are asking
advice of our pastor or of some other person, we may
confess the faults and habits which we would have
him direct us how to overcome. Again, when we are
exhorting, reproving or counselling another, we may
confess to him sins which we were tempted to coinmit, by taking the course from which we would dissuade him. But he who is ever confessing to others
sins which neither they nor the church have a right
to hear or can be edified by hearing, seems to take
a secret satisfaction in his own misdeeds, and to have




WITH ONE ANOTHER.                51
so little sense of guilt and shame as to be vain of his
very wickedness.
We should not indulge the habit of discoursing to
our brethren of our bereavements, losses and ills.
They will indeed think it due to the confidence of
brotherly affection that we unbosom to them our sorrows and allow them to condole with us. And if
we do it to obtain their counsels or their consolations,
they will listen to us with pleasure, but it becomes
quite another affair when they perceive that we take
pleasure in descanting on our woes-that we complain not to obtain relief, but to amuse ourselves.
Do not, in general, complain to your friends of the
injustice and ingratitude of men. " When I murmured against persecution," says Count de Bussy, " and
so enhanced my misfortune by impatience, I would
have died in prison, had I not a month before I came
out, resolved to submit myself to whatever it should
please God to do with me."  This behavior touched
the heart of Louis XIV., who at length recalled him
from banishment. Especially do not complain of
calumnies. Men claim the privilege of finding fault
with you. It is nothing that you are perfection itself; they will then think you deserving of blame
for having nothing blamable in you. If you convince the world that you are forsaken by your old
friends, discontented with your condition, and want
the strength of soul necessary to bear up against adversity, it will desert you almost to a man, and seek
more powerful allies elsewhere. Yet, do not fly to
the other extreme, and show a blustering pertinacity,
but rather a bland resolution. "Resolved," says President Edwards, " to follow the example of Mr. R.,




52    CONVERSATION  OF CHRISTIANS
who, though he meets with great difficulties, yet undertakes them with a smiling countenance as though
they were little, and speaks of them as if they were
very small."
We should keep clear of an ambition to set off our
own piety to the best advantage by boasting of our
spiritual conquests or deeds of beneficence; and, on
the other hand, of a false humility, that while it is
ever depreciating what we are and what we have
done, is covertly seeking to impress others with an
admiration for our lowliness.
But of all the abuses which attend the needful intercourse of spiritual minds, perhaps the most common is self-righteousness. The faculty of conversing
on religious subjects, is liable, with some, to be confounded with religion itself; and, with others, to be
substituted for it. A disposition to frequent discourse
on spiritual topics is one mark of genuine piety; but
though such a disposition is indispensable to true
piety, yet it may exist in an unregenerated heart.
One of the deceptions which our hearts not unfrequently practise upon us, is to magnify the slightest
evidences of our personal interest in the Redeemer
into meritorious and self-sufficient virtues.
One of the most profitable themes for discourse
among brethren is that of religious experience-a
theme which is less frequently treated now than it
was some years ago; chiefly, perhaps, by reason of
its perversion by fanatics and hypocrites. Another
cause is found in the modern mistake of making all
religion to consist merely in hearing sermons and responding to the calls of benevolent institutions, to
the neglect of the religion of the heart, the closet,




WITH: ONE ANOTHER.                53
and the family: consequently there is less hope and
fear, joy and sorrow, fight and flight, conquest and
defeat. There are, we rejoice to say, many, very
many illustrious exceptions to this rule; still it is a
matter deserving serious inquiry whether the churches
are not backsliding down this declivity. Some, no
doubt, are backsliding in an  opposite direction.
They talk of their feelings as if they thought them to
be the sum of religion. They never inquire about the
advancement of the truth in their own family, or
country, or in the distant regions of the earth. According to our Lord's commission to the apostles, they
were directed to begai at Jerusalem; they were not
to dwell there permanently. We ought first to inquire whether our own graces are thriving, but we
shall find they are not, unless we make provision for
their exercise. Our experiences and graces are not
the field; "the field is the world," and in this field
we should allow all the virtues to range. Nothing
can be more instructive than a judicious disclosure
of our temptations and conflicts. By these the young
disciple is warned, and the aged confirmed in patience and hope. If we have experienced sustaining
grace in affliction, trust in darkness, direction in perplexity, answers to prayer, illumination in studying
and obeying the Scriptures, help in a pious undertaking, joy in self-denials, let us not withhold these
things from our brethren. That our conversations on
this subject may be in the highest degree useful, we
should not introduce them too often, nor allow them
to grow trite; neither should we lightly mingle pious
remarks among the hurried negotiations of business;
or, like Bunyan's Talkative and Foot's Mother Cole,




54    CONVERSATION OF CHRISTIANS
dodge by turns from  sacred to profane and profane
to sacred. In relating our religious experiences, we
should state facts in the most simple and unadorned
language, and shun all affectation and cant.
Some enthusiastic professors have their darling
doctrines, to which they allude on all occasions, and
on which they incessantly argue, ever repeating the
same propositions, and ever quoting the same Scriptures to establish them. You run a great hazard by
making the slightest allusion to their favorite theme;
they will, in all likelihood, hold your button an hour
for your pains. When two or more persons are
known to hold opposite opinions on a subject, and
are used to dispute concerning it, we do well not to
refer to the vexed question in their hearing. To
start that topic were as wanton a cruelty as it would
be to set two pugnacious dogs by the ears. These
orthodox brethren, as it generally happens, give
some attention to one truth to the neglect of other
truths intimately related to it, on a right understanding of which the settlement of the question depends.
A doctrine may be true as being of a piece with
others, but not true as broken off from them by the
force of controversy. Scripture truth is true only in
its connection. It is another error of this class of
men to suppose they understand a doctrine because
they are familiar with it. They have long believed
it, long talked about it, yet most likely they have
never sat down for an hour patiently to examine its
evidences, and to consider its intricacies and mysteries. Could the doctrines speak, they might very
properly ask many a babbler of this class the question our Lord asked one of his disciples, "Have I




WITH ONE ANOTHER.                55
been so long time with you, and yet hast thou not
known me, Philip?"
"We do well," says Baron Knigge, "to distinguish between religion and theology."5 Observation
teaches us that multitudes who are wholly wanting
in vital piety, can talk fluently and confidently on
the controverted points of our faith. A large class
of these champions of dogmatism imnagine they are
giving the best possible proof of their piety when
they are contesting some speculative notion, whereas
the spirit in which they handle the question, and
their utter neglect of practical truths, declare that
their piety is little else than rodomontade. It denotes an unspiritual mind to like to dwell on
mere sJpeculcttive questions and funsearchable mysteries.  We mcay and ought to search for the points
where mysteries begin, and to examine the proofs on
which they claim our belief; but this is different from
an attempt to discover what Infnite Wisdogn was.pleased not to reveal to mortctls. Were some of the
mysteries of our religion cleared up to the satisfaction of some presumptuous inquirers, who shall say
that the explanation of them would not be destructive of all piety? What virtue is there in admitting
the truth of a mathematical demonstration? Left as
they are, they aid our growth, not only in faith, but
in docility and humility. Every attempt to explain
them only makes theni the more obscure, while it
renders unintelligible what was simple before.
Let us not be misunderstood. We are not of the
opinion of those spiritual non-resistants, who dream
that they repose under the vine and fig-tree of true
6 Uber den Umgang mit Menschen, p. 807. Hanover, 1844.




56    CONVERSATION  OF CHRISTIANS
faith, while, in fact, they sleep under the upas of
deadly heresy. We have been speaking of the barrenness of mere speculation about the unsealed mysteries of the gospel. We do by no means undervalue
the importance of right views concerning all revealed
truth, and of that sort of controversy which throws
any light on the pages of revelation. Holiness is the
outgrowth of a knowledge of gospel truths, and hence
spring freedom and faith. It is a holding the Head
that brings life; and whilst faith without works is
dead, a rationalism that believes man and not God,
is more than dead. It is death rampant and gory.
Pious as many of these controversialists are, few
of them are remarkably attentive to the decencies
of speech. It is said of Sir James Mackintosh, that
he had a way of advancing things so mildly and
interrogatively, that he always procured the readiest
reception for his opinions, and that he had two valuable habits, which are rarely met with in great reasoners-he never broke in upon his opponent, and
always avoided strong and vehement assertions. But
the persons in question are so captious and belligerent, that they are tolerated by none but their brethren,
" the meek of the earth." Perhaps reputed great in
one thing, they are content to be contemptible in all
besides. They presume on the weight of their dogmatic assertions, and express themselves roundly on
all questions, no matter how critical or profound.
They should never be allowed to commence debating
unless they will choose seconds as duelists do. They
make shouts of victory stand them instead of arguments, and give their opponents no quarter, because
they know that they are too strong for them. " Will




WITH ONE ANOTHER.                 57
leviathan speak soft words unto thee?"  Vain the
hope; he is in his element, or rather fancies he is,
and must be allowed to imagine that he "nmakes
the deep to boil like a pot, and makes a path to shine
after him," though often the " sininzg" is only that
of the upturned ooze his lashing and contortions
have raised to discolor and scent the waves.
Nevertheless, a perfect agreement of opinion among
the members of the same circle is by no means desirable. It is a shrewd observation of La Bruyere,
that the mutual pleasure of conversation is greatest
among friends who agree in matters of taste and
morals, and diff'er in opinion concerning the sciences;
for so each one is either confirmed in his principles,
or is disciplined and improved by disputation. Now
Christian society is of this kind. The moral tastes
and feelings of the brethren accord in the main,
while they differ more or less respecting other subjects. And if they are not at all times benefited by
their discussions, the general principle still holds
good.  It is impolitic to discourage discussion. It
gives life and vigor to conversation.  What can be
more somnorific than the usage of some coteries,
where each one withholds his opinion for fear of
giving offence; or, if any one ventures to put forth
an assertion, it meets with an immediate assent-and
a long silence succeeds. Were the doctrines of our
religion like the principles of the exact sciences, a
few words would serve to despatch them; but inasmuch as they are matters of moral probability, any
person of common sense is able to say something by
way of qualification, confirmation, or denial. It is a
remark of Chevreau's, that there are two classes of
C




58     CONVERSATION  OF CHRISTIANS
people whose conversation is equally disagreeable;
those who always dispute what you say, and those
who agree with you so constantly and humbly, that
you feel to cry out with the enraged orator to his
antagonist, "Do contradict me to prove that we are
two persons." He who ever replies with a ready
affirmation, seems to say you are only repeating
commonplaces and truisms.  Hence the wisdom
of seldom broaching current truths, cardinal articles of faith, undisputed facts, and the fixed principles of art and science.  Paradoxes, far-fetched
opinions, singular facts, unaccountable events, the
hypotheses and hasty deductions of the immature
arts and sciences; these are the starting points of
the most spirited and improving discussions. The
man that is careful to be always in the right, and to
advance none but indisputable opinions, must needs
impose silence on all around him; people perceiving
his anxiety to be thought infallible and irrefutable,
do not like to oppose him. And since he must
weigh all his thoughts before he offers them to our
consideration, and choose the plainest and least amnbiguous terms wherein to convey them, he must have
long pauses to deliberate, frequent digressions to define, or qualify, or explain. If he would betimes
speak at a venture, and put forth a proposition that
lay open to reply, and give an opportunity to correct
his negligent remarks, the rest of the circle would be
much beholden to him for helping them unseal their
lips. But his very silence is as great a bar to conversation as his strongly-guarded discourse.  If
others dare to open their minds at all, it is under the
restraint which is laid upon them by his wise and




WITH ONE ANOTHER.                   59
critical ear.  They cannot prevail upon him to cornmnit himself till all have spoken, when he is prepared
to expose their folly, and to establish his own wisdom.
The statement of a proposition which is contrary to
received opinion, or seeminogly absurd, but really
true, like the touch of Ithuriel's spear-gives sudden
expansion to the minds of the company, and causes
each one to spring up and appear in his real character.  A man had better play the Jack Cade, challenging every body to deny assertions which he
knows to be absurd, than to be an automatonl cou-rtier, that, makes a bow at every pull of the wire.
The advocate of a visionary theory or an erroneous
principle ought, before the subject is dismissed, to
declare his real opinions concerning it, unless he ihas
at the outset intimated, as in most cases he easily
can, that he does not receive what,: Fbr the sake of
striking out truth, he sets himself to def'end. Let
him  beware, however, of too great a readiness to
argue for v~ictory rather than ttr-th, a iault into which
the rash and the spirited freequently run. Johnson,
who was a splendid and doughty talker, in his dying
days felt and bewailed this arg'uing for victory as
one of the sins to which lie had been addicted.
One of the most liberal and beneficial kinds of
conversation is what some call bttilcling.  It consists
in adding somethingg to the remark of another; the
interlocutors either fortifying each other's propositions, or saying something which the observations of
another suggested. Instead of pulling down, they
literally edify one another.  Fellow  disciples can
conveniently adopt this method.  They have a cormon fund of principles and sentiments which aids




60    CONVERSATION OF CHRISTIANS
this reciprocation of thought. It is in this way that
truth is best discovered and established.  If this
method had been more generally adopted in bygone
ages, how much richer a patrimony of truth would
have descended to the present generation.  Then
each one would not have thought himself bound to
remove the foundations of his brother's intellectual
edifice before he could proceed to build his own, but
would contribute his own material and skill to mend
the works of his predecessor, and, as far as possible,
carry them up towards completion. Thus, by the joint
aid of different minds, each contributing what no
other could, the tabernacle of truth might rise and
stand splendid, graceful, and complete in every part.
The practice here recommended, is not that, of some
wise persons who never fail to improve upon every casual remark, ever getting the better of another, sure to
have the last word, and letting slip no opportunity of
showing that their intellect has still the mastery of ours.
Where members of the same church are accustomed to meet and talk on matters of common interest, they are liable to institute comparisons between their own church and some rival one, in the
same city, village, or neighborhood. Its minister is
contrasted with their own. Is a sister church thriving?  They predict trouble from the accession of
such numbers of spurious converts. Is it languishing? They had been long expecting it, and know
all the causes of its adversity.  Only set over
against the emanations of such envious and jealous
minds the noble and liberal language of Paul:
"Some indeed preach Christ even of envy and strife,
and some also of good will. The one preach Christ




WITH ONE ANOTHER.                 61
of contention, not sincerely, supposing to add affliction to my bonds; but the other of love, knowing
that I am set for the defence of the Gospel. What
then? Notwithstanding every way, whether in pretence or in truth, Christ is preached, and I therein
do rejoice, yea and will rejoice."6
We should also beware of speaking contemptuously, or judging uncharitably of those who practice,
or abstain from religious acts that are in themselves
indifferent, or to which no scripture command can
be brought to apply.  " One man believeth that he
may eat all things; another who is weak eateth herbs.
Let not him that eateth despise him that eateth not;
and let not him  that eateth not, judge him  that
eateth. Who art thou that judgest another man's
servalit. To his own Master he standeth or falleth."
Such is the language of the inspired apostle, and
yet it is notorious, that many a professor is the more
censorious of his brethren, in proportion as they practice what he hir8self believes, that the letter and spirit
of the scriptures neither condemn nor approve; but
concerning which practice th/ey believe, that the scriptures are positive. We are bound to endeavor to correct errorists by all gentle and charitable methods, but
we should not satisfy ourselves with invective, to the
utter neglect of argument, especially when the acknowledged silence of scripture rebukes our bitter loquacity.
It is well to keep clear of all denominational and
sectarian topics when we are in the company of those
who belong to different denominations. With a view
to conciliate persons of another sect, some fall to praising that sect or some of its ornaments, and in return,
G6 PhiL i. 15-18.




62    CONVERSATION OF CHRISTIANS
expect to receive some golden opinions for their own
denomination. It were more judicious to make an
oblivion of such subjects altogether. There is, and
it is a cause of devout gratitude that there is, so wide
a range of common ground, that we are not compelled
to turn aside into any very narrow enclosure. It is
pleasant occasionally to mount to some serene summit where the artificial divisions of our common
Canaan are lost in the distance beneath, and whence
we may survey all the tribes praying, with their eyes
turned toward one tabernacle, bringing their atoneing sacrifice to the same altar, and worshipping one
Lord, even Christ.
Let us beware of being numbered among those
whose church is their whole world, beyond which
their conversation rarely strays. They must always
be talking of pastor or rector, deacons or churchwardens, or sexton, or fellow members. To allow
the church a large share of our thoughts, is a mark
of laudable zeal and devotedness; but to limit our
discourse to one congregation or denomination, savors
of bigotry; at least, those who are of a different
persuasion will think so, and the more bigoted they
are themselves, the more displeased will they be to
discover any indications of the same vice in ourselves. We must not indulge a habit of felicitating
our brethren of like faith on the truth, superiority,
and triumphs of our denominational doctriles, whenever we find ourselves in their company. For if
haply, after a tirade against another denomination
in the hearing of others, all of whom we supposed to
be of our opinions, we should learn that a person
belonging to that denomination was present and




WITH ONE ANOTHER.               63
heard all we said, it would give us unspeakable mortification. And when we laud our clergyman exclusively in the hearing of those who go to another
church, they will be likely to construe our words as
a depreciation of their favorite, even should it not,
as it often is, be regarded as oblique self-praise.
When our own sect, denomination, clergy or creed is
eulogized by a person of a different faith, we must
beware of adding aught to his commendations, inasmuch as he probably intended to bestow upon us all
the praise we deserved, and it will be making him
a shabby return to insinuate that, after all, he has
overlooked half our merit.
We occasionally meet with an aged Christian who
delights to dwell on the history of the church or denomination of which he is a member. The honor
which is due to age requires us to listen to what
helps him to beguile away the heavy-footed hours.
Perhaps he enlarges on the piety, talents and habits
of the saints whom he once knew. He says, " that
the former days were better than these;" and that
" there were giants in those days, mighty men and
men of renown." Versed in the scriptures he knows
not when to cease discoursing on their blessed truths.
From the feebleness of his memory, he tells you what
you have heard him repeat many times before. To
oppose him would, in most cases, be equally irreverent and unavailing; and, however tiresome may be
his prosing, if we will only listen to him patiently,
we shall gain from him a great deal of information.
His counsels are valuable, and if he ismoccasionally
petulant towards his juniors, it is because he beholds
them wantonly disregarding the lessons which it cost




64    CONVERSATION OF CHRISTIANS
him long and painful experience to learn. When we
meet him in the social circle, we should frequently
address our remarks to him; and, when there is occasion for it, ask his opinion and advice.
In talking with pious persons of defective education, we must not vulgarize our ideas in the attempt
to simplify and suit them to their capacities. Some
persons are nettled at our stooping to a level with
them in thought and language, which they look upon
as an under-estimate of their capacities and culture,
but account it a compliment to be addressed as if
they were more knowing than they are. Besides, it
excites them to self-improvement. It was Richardl
Baxter's practice in every sermon to say something
wh;ch was above the capacity of his hearers, and
which they had not known before, in order, as he declared, to keep them humble under a conviction of
their own ignorance. Nevertheless an ostentation of
learning is very offensive to the ignorant, and they
like to burlesque those who are guilty of it.
Not all unlettered persons are ignorant; in their
own estimation very few of them are so.  They
plume themselves upon the thought, that, however
ignorant of some things, they are competent to
teach the most knowing person many useful lessons.
Everybody has heard of the cobbler who pointed out
an omission in the painting of Apelles, which he had
himself overlooked. The knowledge of the illiterate
is dear bought, thoroughly practical, and for the
most part accurate as far as it goes. " The wisdom of
the ignorant," says Goldsmith, " somewhat resembles
the instinct of animals; it is diffused in but a narrow
sphere, but within that sphere it acts with vigor, uni



WITH ONE ANOTHER.                65
formity, and success." In conversation, therefore, we
must allow them to discourse in their own way. To
put them upon talking logically, or to correct their
verbal errors, were to confound and discourage them.
When they express their thoughts inaccurately, we
should not tell them what they mean, but answer
them directly according to their meaning. We must
take care that we do not misunderstand them. They
will sooner forgive our superiority to them in knowledge than for owning our inability to understand
what seems very intelligible to their own minds; for
they are apt to suspect that, by such an avowal, we
would insinuate that they do not understand themselves, or, what is more commonly inferred, that we
only betray our own obtuseness.
The profoundest student of the Bible may gain no
small aid, in his researches, from the pious discourse
of unlearned believers. He will find the views of
the common people on scriptural truth more simple
and experimental than his own. Their piety is more
primitive: by primitive we do not mean that their
piety is as intelligent as was that of believers in
apostolic times; for it can hardly be expected that
the greatest modern scholar could, by the studies of
a long life, acquire as accurate a knowledge of the
Christian religion as the bulk of primitive Christians
possessed. We mean that their piety sheds a purer
and more direct light. It is not blended with classical, philosophical, and mystical notions. Erroneous
as may be their views on some points, their interpretations are, in the main, what all interpretations
should be-practical.  It is in the school of obedience that they have acquired their knowledge of




66    CONVERSATION  OF CHRISTIANS.
the scriptures, and if they cannot illustrate them by
their learning, they can exemplify them in their
lives. Whoever deigns to hold intercourse with the
pious in humble life, can study our religion in its
primeval and most secure repositories, and " extract
honey out of the rock, and oil out of the flinty rock."
We cannot dismiss this subject without alluding
to a trespass which sociable brethren are prone to
commit against one another: we refer to trespass
on time. When we are weary of solitude, and flee
to the society of a brother, we do not enough reflect that he may not have leisure for talk, and
that if he stays to exchange thoughts with us, he
is neglecting important engagements. We feel, perhaps, that as he is our brother, he ought to have sufficient patience to listen to us. The patience he may
have, but may lack the hardihood of conscience;
nay, he may have the desire, while duty is calling
him to serious business. Or perhaps he has leisure
for talking on some useful subject, but none to amuse
those who wish him to help them kill time. Many
think it no sin to spend hours in unprofitable parlance, who would recoil from the thought of wasting
the same period in silent supineness. " Let no man,"
says St. Bernard, "think it a light matter that he
spends his precious time in idle words."'
7 Sermo de Triplici Custodia.




CHAPTER  IV.
SUNDAY CONVERSATION.
THE notes of a voluntary from the organ had just
died away, and the coach was beginning to roll,
when Miss Rose Restless, glancing through the
pane, and seeing a shawled shoulder, the side of
a bonnet, and the end of a nose, whispered to her
cousin, Flora Galaday,
" Did you ever? See! Mrs. Gaudyage is dressed
like a peacock, and yet she is turned of sixty!"
"Yes, I see; what depravity of taste! The old
coquette!" returns Flora.
"Grandmother, who is very plain, you know, was
walking with her the other day, past Babel Hotel,
when Will Bottle, who is always drunk, staggered
out, blurting,' They toil not, neither do they spin,
yet Solomon, in all his glory, was not arrayed like
one of these!"'
" Well, Rose, you see what you will come to if
you proceed at this rate. They say she was very
dressy when she was young."
" Indeed, Flora! and you could not have looked
in a mirror lately. But to be serious now, did you
mark Helen Everton's bonnet. It was silk, with a
frilling of tulle at the edge, without feathers and
artificials."




68        SUNDAY CONVERSATION.
" Not exactly, Rose. ITelen is more obedient to
the will of Paris, than to put on such a bonnet. She
wore a bonnet of lisse crape, with tulle puffed, and
feathers and roses."
"' You must be mistaken, Flora; I saw neither feathers nor roses, and I inspected the thing particularly."
"So did I inspect the thing very particularly.
The brim inside was trimmed on the one hand with
a tuft of roses; on the other, it had a feather placed
outside, turning over the edge, and coming inside
near the cheek."
" Oh my! Itow could your eyes deceive you so,
Flora; —on which side were the feathers?"
" On the side towards where I sat. Besides, when
she turned round to go out, I saw her full in the
face, and there were roses inside. When she came
near me in the aisle, I saw they were mixed with
narrow white blonds."
" That accounts for our differences. You sat on
one side of her and I on the other.  When she
turned round my eyes were on something else-on
a scene that attracted all eyes-the young married
couple, Mr. and Mrs. Honeymoon.  Mrs. Honeymoon had on a paletot of crimson velvet, trimmed
entirely round with a silk gimp. The crimson with
the green lining of her bonnet, made her pale face
look insipid and sickly. Such a flourish as they did
make! You saw them, coz?"
"No, I am too near-sighted. It takes you to see
what is far off; and me to see what is near-but
don't you think the fashions favor me? Iam embonpoint, you know, so that full skirts are just the
thing for me. Don't you think so, Rose? "




SUNDAY  CONVERSATION.              69
" Yes, Flora, Paris takes pity on you this season;
and don't you think white gauze bonnet strings become me'?"
The opening of the coach door before No. - Incog.
Place, prevented any reply to this important question. Entering the parlor, they find their mothers,
Mlesdames Restless and Galaday, who have just
returned firom the morning service at St. Picture's.
It is enough to know that they are opera-goers, and
consider themselves very exemplary Christians as
the times go.
"w.Vell, aunt, how did you like the prima donna,
to-day?  Did she sing as well as when we heard her
at the opera last night 2" asked Rose.
""Better, if anything.  If she can sing at the
opera she can sing at church, of course. A prime
cantatrice like her can sing anywhere."
"Doubtless," replies Mrs. Restless; " and yet
don't you think Signora Squallia has a certain
trick of voice, as if she were aiming at artistic
effect?"
"A  soprano  of her powers should not choke
herself down to the notes like ordinary choir-singers. She is expected to show off her voice."
" Did you observe, sister, the gradual growth and
sostenuto of her tones, especially in the upper and
middle registers 2"
"Yes, she has few equals there; but what did
you think of the mezza voce shake in the hymnn-I
forget the words? It showed either a flaw in the
voice or a slip in the execution."
"It was a slip in the execution, no doubt. HIer
voice is perfection itselfi"




70        SUNDAY CONVERSATION.
"Don't you think, aunt," asks Flora, " that most
celebrated sopranccos render church music too oDeraticallv-too-you know what I mean?"
" Why no, Flora, not more operatically than your'
barytones, your tenores, and your contraltos."
1" We can never have too much virtuosita in our
church singing, so the art be only concealed by a
little abandon and occasional fioritzre," adds Mrs.
Galaday.
Mrs. Restless was saying that she "particularly
admired two or three of Signora Squallia's orna
mental variations from  the literal text which she
had observed in the last hymn," when M:r. Galaday
came in.  He had been to hear Dr. Action, to
"whose church" he always goes when he spends a
Sunday in town. Looking at LMrs. Restless with an
eye of wonder, he sportively asks,
"Then you have been to St. Picture's, have you 
How dare you go to church on purpose to hear a fine
singer-an opera artiste, too; leaving out of the
question the deadly heresy taught at St. Picture's?"
" For my part, I can say," replies Mrs. Restless,
C' and I think I can speak for my sister also, that I
have no scruples about going to hear an opera singer
at church, and at an apostate church if you please.
As to the heresy taught at St. Picture's, I do not
approve that. Indeed, I never listen to what a
preacher says; I always make up my mind to
sleep during that part of the service. If I went
to hear the sermon that would alter the case, but I
" To church repair,
Not for the doctrine; but the music there."
" Some go to church to see architecture, others to




SUNDAY  CONVERSATION.              71
look at pictures, and others to hear eozquent speczking.  I have as good a right to indulge my taste as
other people."
Mr. Galaday felt the force of this argument,
especially of the emphasis which Mrs. Restless laid
on the words eloquent spealcing, as she at the same
time tipped Mirs. Galaday the wink.
After a short pause, during which MIr. Galaday
composed himself by caning the dust out of his
gaiters, he rallied himself and said:
"But you ought to have heard Dr. Action this
morning. Such smoothness and softness of voice!
and then what graceful gestures!"
"'What was Mr. Action's text?" asks Mrs. Restless.
" I don't recollect."
"You can give us the subject perhaps, or at least
one of the heads of the sermon?" asks [MIrs. Galaday, wishing to help her husband out of his difflculties.
" No ma'am, I can give neither text, nor subject,
nor division. Thank God, I seldom pay any attention to those small matters; but his gestures were
graceful beyond description. When quoting those
words of-St. Matthew? yes, if my memory serves
me;'from Jerusalem  round about unto Illyricum,'
he turned his back upon us, and then faced about
with such a curvilinear swing of the arm, and such
a delightful toss of the hand when he came to'lIllyricum,' Il-lyr-i-cu! I-lyr-i-c/!!"-all which MlIr.
Galaday accompanied with manipulations that would
not have disgraced Cicero himself.
Mr. Restless and  Mr. Coupon, his partner in




72        SUNDAY CONVERSATION.
stock-jobbing, now came in. Mr. Galaday observing that Mr. Restless had an anxious look, asked:
" Ally panic in the money market, Mr. Restless?
You seem a little nervous."
"' No, sir, there is no panic either in the market
or among my nerves. Only I cannot digest certain
doctrines which a mad preacher has just been cramming down my throat. Mr. Coupon would have me
go with him to hear Mr. Evangely, of whom he had
heard so much said that he felt some curiosity to
know who he is. We were seated among a great
crowd, and I soon saw there was no chance for speculation there. The preacher stood up, and among
other things gave us all to understand that we were
sinners. Then how vulgar! I did not hear one big
word, such as permnetion, or adumbration, or obfuscation. Tell me I am a sinner will he?"
Here Mr. Coupon, who was also troubled with convictions which he wished to get rid of, gave another
turn to the conversation.
"Whether you are a sinner or not, Mr. Restless, I
will not take upon me to say. That you are a stockbroker I am certain. How do you think fancies will
open to-morrow?"
"  Why, yesterday being Christmas," replies Restless, "there was nothing doing; so that to-morrow
fancies must open buoyant and active, to make up."
" But the bears will try to break down the market."
" Of course they will try, but they will find it uphill work, or to speak zoologically, down-hill work;
for the bulls will not only toss up prices, but will set
the bears going down hill with a continual somerset."




SUNDAY CONVERSATION.              73
"Yet the two special fancies, Bristol and York,
ran down on Friday very fast. The forlmer closed
at a decline of seven and a half per cent., and the
latter at a decline of three per cent. Some other
fancies are now largely inflated."
"For all that, I think the bulls may feel confident
of a rise of some importance."
While Messrs. Restless and Coupon were thus enlarging upon the stock-market, and Mr. Galaday
listening with the close attention of a novice on'Change, Mrs. Restless was questioning her sister as
to some doubtful points of country scandal.
" I have heard that Byron Rake is flirting with
Cecilia Christian. What did report say when you
left?"
" It said as you have said-so Mrs. Tattle told me;
she said she had it from Mrs. Gabble, who had it
from Miss Prattle, who had it from Miss Whisper,
who had it from Miss Lovejoke; so it comes direct,
and must be true."
" It does not surprise me," sagely remarks Mrs.
Restless; "I never thought Cecilia Christian as good
as she pretends to be."
"Say what they will, I think Byron Rake good
enough for her-quite good enough."
At dinner, which was the most sumptuous one of
the week, the conversation grew more earthly; the
gossip of the town, anecdote, badinage, and punning being indulged in by old and young. In this
way, and by the help of some piano-forte and harp
music in the style of Rossini, they managed to kill
God's time, though they were not able wholly to
smother his groans, or to hide the traces of his blood.




74        SUNDAY CONVERSATION.
In the evening the whole company went to an
Oratorio, except Rose Restless, who was engaged at
home by the attentions of Mr. Simpleton.
Much of the small-talk which passed in this family
during the day my pen refuses to record, saying it
was so small that it can see no use in taking note of
it, unless to show that the interlocutors are not rational, and therefore not accountable beings-but,
my pen, they are all accountable beings, and some
of them went to church in the morning, and confessed
they were " miserable sinners."  Yet they have contrived to pass the day very comfortable sinners-comfortable in making an oblivion of the resurrection of
the Redeemer —an event which they profess on this
day to commemorate, by a resurrection of their souls
froml the sepulchre of worldly thoughts and pursuits
- comfortable in talking of millinery and fashions,
music and eloquence, lucre and amours, flirtations
and what not, instead of talking of Him, whose guileless tongue dropped with wormwood and gall to
atone for our sinful words.
The due observance of this holy day requires us to
keep our tongues, no less than our hands, from the
usual employments of the secular week. As the
tongue shares in the toil and moil of the week, it,
along with the other organs, needs respite, that it
may return with renewed strength to engage in the
commerce of mind. By employing a share of this
sacred time in abstinence from spiritual discourse
even, devoting it to serious meditation and secret
prayer, we shall improve the moral purity and intellectual tone of our week-day talks. The stream of
conversation should not be always dashing on like an




SUNDAY  CONVERSATION.              75
Alpine torrent. If its waters are to flow musically
and clear, they must be allowed to subside here and
there in deep and untroubled pools, where the sand
and mire they picked up in their swifter currents
may settle at the bottom, and whence may be given
back, in melodious tones, the echoes of the babbling
rapids.
Of the promise made to the sons of Jacob, that
they should find delight in the Lord, ride upon the
high places of the earth, and be fed with the heritage of their father, one of the conditions was that
they should not speak their own wordcs on the sabbcath.
There is, in the keeping of this condition the working out of such a glorious result from natural causes,
and apart from Providential interposition. The way
we spend fifty-two days in each year, or the seventh
part of our mortal lifetime, must tell incalculably for
good or evil upon the present and eternal character
of our souls. If it is our wont on one day in the
week to select, with jealous care, the themes of our
talks, the habit will do much to bring the tongue into
that entire subjection which is the inspired mark of
" the perfect man."  On the other hand the habitual
profanation of the sabbath by secular conversation,
sinks the soul by degrees into the deepest moral degradation. An Oriental legend tells us that while Solomon was once on his way to pay a visit to the Queen
of Sheba, he came to a valley in which dwelt a peculiar tribe of monkeys. Upon inquiring into their history, he learned that they were the posterity of a
colony of Jews, who, settling in that region many
years before, had, by habitually profaning the sabbath, gradually degenerated into the brutes he found




76        SUNDAY CONVERSATION.
them. This story has more foundation in truth than
in fact, though it does not illustrate the whole truth
as to the effects of sabbath-breaking; for while, in
this world, it sinks the human soul and body nearly
to a level with brute life, in the world to come it
sinks both in a perdition, where to take the lowest
place in the lowest rank of brute being, and to be
allowed the lowest gratifications of brute instinct,
would be an honor and a happiness which the despairing spirit will be denied the pleasure of hoping
to enjoy even in the latest futurity.




CHAPTER V.
CONVERSATION  IN  GENERAL SOCIETY.
NONE but topics of common interest can, with
strict propriety, be admitted into promiscuous companies. But, as such topics are few, and as some
freedom is generally preferred to the risk of reducing
the circle to silence, this rule is often disregarded.
The weather, health, business, news, politics, history,
art, science, and general literature, are among the
themes that are usually tolerated here.  Unhappily,
the Christian religion must be omitted in this enumeration. We say the Christian religion, for religion,
as a general subject, embracing the Mahometan,
Braminical, in short every faith but our own, is welcomed in these circles. The evangelical system is
studiously excluded, not so much because it is not a
matter of general interest as because it is one of
deep-felt concern, and liable, consequently, to raise
zeal, hatred, or disgust, according to the principles
and tempers of the conversers. The cross is a stumbling block in all companies where the tone is
earthly; and since it is so, and nothing but the general prevalence of vital piety can make it otherwise,
it were better for the friends of the gospel to keep it
out of such companies, lest, by being forced upon




78            CONVERSATION  IN
them, it be loaded with needless reproach. The endeavor to couple Christianity with worldliness, and
to exhibit it out of place, has often made it an object
of indignation to men of the world. When they behold the cross in strange fellowship with their idols,
they lose that reverence for it which it commanded
when it was viewed apart. They regard our religion
with nearly the same feelings that the Japanese do,
who hold a yearly festival for trampling on the crucifix.
People of the world do but obey their depraved antipathies when they keep aloof from the cross of
Christ, whereas they do violence to their nature when
they abstain from talking on religion in general.
There is a religious sentiment common to inan, such
as some idea of God and of a future state; and this
sentiment generally finds expression by seeking some
substitute for the humiliating terms of the gospel.
3M/any deem it a mark of reverence to the Supreme
Being, and to pious persons, occasionally to allude to
the general subject-a mark of reverence which will,
as they suppose, serve to distinguish them from vulgar and godless sinners with whom they would otherwise be in danger of being confounded.
Such persons are, for the most part, willing to talk
on the subject of morality so long as we discourse in
the style of Aristotle, Epictetus, or MIarcus Antonixus. They are careful to keep clear of all the distinctive features of evangelical morality. While,
therefore, the Christian should concede to their philosophical ethics whatever of excellence it may possess, he must not forget to point them to a higher
code. This resolution of President Edwards was a




GENERAL SOCIETY.                 79
good one: "When I am conversing on morality, I
will turn it over, by application, exemplification, or
otherwise, to Christianity."
It is seldom advisable, as we just now intimated,
to drag evangelical themes into the gay and festive
concourse. Those who do it, lay themselves open to
the charge of plotting against the object of the party,
of being misled by fanaticism, and above all, of lowering the dignity of religion and profaning its sanctities. It is a law of poetical propriety not to introduce a god, except on an occasion worthy of a god.
The principle is as applicable to manners as it is to
poetry.  Evangelical religion does not look well
shouldering her way into a crowd of jolly and un..
thinking worldlings. We would by no means drive
piety from all places except church edifices, cloisters,
and death-beds.  We simply caution the Christian
against too freely discoursing on his religion among
those who would blame him as irreverent, or mock
him as ridiculous. However, when we happen to
be conversing with an individual out of ear-range
of others, it is sometimes proper to dwell on the
subject.
But when evangelical conversation is introduced
in mixed companies, as it sometimes ought to be, it
will be cheerfully tolerated by every true lady and
gentleman, and instead of being shocked at it, as
some exquisite people affect to be, these will take
part in it. Lord Chesterfield and Lord Bolingbroke,
deists though they were, showed their gentility by
a pleasant and liberal bearing towards the pious persons with whom they lived on terms of intimacy. A.
well-bred unbeliever will also so far respect the feel



80            CONVERSATION IN
ings of a Christian, as to discountenance all ribaldry,
scoffing, and profane swearing in his presence.
Moralizing is, in general, ill-received in these comnpanies. We should not speak against a vice which
individuals of the party are known or suspected to
be guilty of, or praise a virtue in which they are
notoriously deficient. All moral reflections, proverbs,
and precepts, are liable to be received as personal
attacks on character. Neither is it prudent in such
circles to expatiate on the virtues of the absent; for
some hearer will think his own excellences vilified
in proportion as we exalt those of others.
It devolves on us, however, to defend the absent
when they are calumniated; only not too warmly,
for it occasionally falls out that he who speaks disparagingly of another, means only to give information
that was, as he supposed, reliable or well known. To
disabuse such'a one with bluntness, pertness, or an
air of conceit, is not to act the part of a gentleman,
much less of a Christian. Another thing, by a too
fervent vindication of our friend, we may give cause
to think that his character is not beyond suspicion,
or that we have some ulterior purpose to serve by
flying to his defence.
The same may be said of our treatment of those
who ridicule the doctrines of the Gospel, or speak
contemptuously of its professors in general. As the
gauntlet is in such cases impliedly thrown, we are
tempted to take it up too eagerly. When the remarks of the malignant are likely to be received with
disfavor, silence is perhaps the most pointed and
effectual reply. But when foolish and vain talkers
are heard with applause, their mouths must be




GENERAL SOCIETY.                 81
stopped. It now becomes the Christian, meekly and
composedly, to put them to silence. And though
bystanders could have wished that he had not put
a period to their chuckling, and spoiled the joy of a
fancied triumph; still, even they, in their more sober
moments, may inwardly approve his conduct.- If
they should not, it will signify little, so long as his
own conscience blesses itself for the deed, and angels
kiss his lips for giving a right answer.
It has been thought that the best way to promote
sociableness in promiscuous society, is for each one to
lay aside every peculiarity of religious and political
opinions, and all professional and local habits. This
rule may be advantageously kept by fiiends and
acquaintances, who have been long known to one
another. In an assembly of people, many of whom
have never seen or heard of one another before, we
should take a different course. Here, nothing is so
great an aid to conversation as an unreserved confession of our religious faith, political principles, profession, business, and such like things. Many Christians mistake here. Misled by the aforesaid regulation, or dreading the charge of Pharisaic ostentation, they conceal their religious profession and belief from people of the world. The consequence is,
that the latter are at a loss for suitable topics when
they are in the company of those whose character
and faith have not been disclosed to them. Aware
that an offence against religious scruples or sectarian prepossessions, is of a very serious nature,
they remain silent, or speak with fear and restraint.
It ought to be considered an act of true courtesy, for
strangers to make known to one another-in a modrD~




82            CONVERSATION  IN
est and graceful manner of course —those facts concerning themselves which must be known before
they can treat one another with complaisance, or
even with respect.
The same observation holds good as to a frank
avowal of our sentiments on any subject, or the bold
announcement of any principle that, for the time, we
choose to maintain. Then each one knows whom he
is to meet, and the opinions with which he is confronted. Freedom of speech, when it is once proclaimed, is a wonderful peace-maker among ill-sorted groups. Every one feels that he has a property
in it, and when he enjoys it and sees all who are
around him enjoying it, he is brought into fellowship
with all; he feels that all are related to him, if not
by agreement, yet by antagonism.  HIis strayed
thoughts now come trooping to him as if at the blast
of a rallying trumpet, and his once enthralled tongue
rouses and shakes off its irons as the inspiriting
sound of liberty breaks upon his ear. Hitherto the
tyranny and intolerance of fashion forced him to repress the mighty risings of truth, and gather about
his person a cloak of secrecy and reserve. Others
did the like, so that while it was the interest of none
to discover, it was the business of all to conceal.
[Now he finds himself among children of the light,
who in nobly laying open their principles, cause
truth to descend from  the skies in all her divine
charms, and dwell among her votaries. It is scarce
possible that any important principle should be discussed, illustrated, or established among people who
meet as at masquerades, not to appear in their own,
but in fictitious characters.




GENERAL SOCIETY.                 83
The foregoing remarks are to be received with
some limitations.  Great fieedom of opinion is hazardous where many of the company are mere transient acquaintances, whom we see no more, and where
as is often the case, certain persons refusing to join
in the talk sit as reporters and spies upon those who
do. For this reason professors should not, in mixed
circles, speak on awkward and scandalous affairs
connected with church discipline. We have known
professors to make the faults and infirmlities of their
brethren matter of animadversion and derision in
the hearing of those who inly rejoiced at the exposure of the dishonorable parts of the church.  "I
said," is the language of David, "I will keep my
mouth with a bridle while the wicked is before me."
It is not our duty, indeed, to go into society chilled
with suspicion: only we should be careful not to drop
one word, in the company of the irreligious, that they
can pick up and bandy about to the hurt of the Lord's
little ones.
It must be apparent to any one, that there are some
impediments to a free interchange of thought between those who are of so opposite a character as
the saint and the sinner. The Christian cannot converse familiarly with the man of the world unless he
finds in the latter a congeniality of intellectual tastes
and of secular pursuits. He feels an awkward restraint, arising partly from the fewness of the subjects that are entertaining to both, and partly from
a fear that the world-wide difference that exists in
their moral feelings will inadvertently show itself in
distance of manner. Hence he is forced to talk on
neutral subjects only, or if ever on contested ones, he




84             CONVERSATION IN
must studiously shun arguments drawn from his religion. Hie must touch upon the most soul-stirring
truths with an unoffending indifference. The rising
ardor which is inflamed by divine realities being thus
repeatedly checked, finally languishes and expires.
Surely piety cannot thrive in places whence God is
by law excluded, and where not a single spark of
holy zeal can kindle but it must be extinguished
the moment it begins to glow. Out of a misguided
complaisance we use mollifying terms to express
mildly, truths that are in their very nature severe;
we speak of doctrines which we find to be disagreeable to others, as if they were of little concern to us;
we hear offensive truths questioned without defending them, and so by insensible degrees glide into indifference, doubt and unbelief. By often consenting
to dismiss serious thoughts, IIe whose name is Jealous, is provoked to retire from the soul. This is the
natural result of conformity to the world.
Men of the world exact of the Christian a stricter
obedience to the laws of society than they do of any
one of themselves. It is no greater infringement of
good breeding to declare his religious principles than
for the man of the world to deliver diatribes on his
politics, his estate, his horses, or his dogs, or to interlace his fiivolities with profane scoffs or reckless
blasphemy. If the worldling may bring in his hobbies, why may not the saint bring in his fiery char
iot; if the former may curvet and amble by the
hour, round the circle on his favorite themes, what
great crime can it be for the latter to take the cross
upon his shoulders and carry it for awhile?  When
all are taking sides in every earthly cause, and no




GENERAL SOCIETY.                85
one leaves it doubtful what are his opinions on the
great political and scientific questions of the day,
who shall forbid the Christian to insinuate that he
is a worshipper of God rather than of nammon, and
that he espouses the cause of the Prince of Peace.
We are aware that as the world now goes, the Christian who feels justified in going into such company
must submit to all that custom imposes. Nor can
we advise any one to set himself to change the tone
or spirit of a company, inasmuch as this grows out
of the very dispositions, talents, acquirements and
vocations of those who compose it. When this tone
is decidedly secular, he lmust in some degree chime
in with it. Still, in the most worldly company in
which the Christian may lawfully appear, he should
at least casually touch upon the subject of religion,
and in some instances he may speak there more at
large.
It is evidently the'duty of the Christian in society
to endeavor, by every prudent means, to elevate the
standard of morals, and to give a right direction to
talk when it is straying on dangerous ground. I-lere
success will much depend on a talent for improving
opportunities, and more on the grace which ever
keeps the mind in a condition to watch for them.
Says the son of Sirach, " Refrain not to speak when
there is occasion to do good, and hide not thy wisdomn in her beauty."  The code of morals which is
received by the generality of people is little better
than an abstract of the criminal statutes. The Christian should, at convenient times, and in an agreeable
way, show them its scantiness by contrasting it with
the gospel morality. As many persons do not dis



86            CONVERSATION IN
relish the subject of morals, they will join him in
condemning a breach of them. And though he
should carefully avoid fault-finding and a wanton opposition to the opinion of others, he must, on the
other hand, take care that his views and theirs of religious subjects, do not seem exactly alike, when, in
fact, they are very dissimilar. It is enough that he
consent to meet them on any common ground, without endeavoring, for the sake of pleasing, to reconcile his God with their Baal, and his faith with their
refuge of lies. He may occasionally draw some
moral or spiritual reflection from secular topics already started, and oppose Divine truth to the mischievous principles that so widely prevail in the
world.
The consistent believer will naturally, in these
companies, recognize the hand of God in events
which other people are apt to impute to the agency
of man, or to chance. He will not refuse to discourse
on second causes, but he will always refer them
finally to the Great First Cause. He will talk with
the naturalist of the laws of nature, but he will not,
as the naturalist is prone to do, stop at those laws.
He will talk with the politician on the connection
which war, intrigue, policy, and political economy,
have with the present posture of affairs. This he
will cheerfully do, in order to show that it is not from
ignorance, but from  piety, that he ever keeps in
mind the operations of Providence.
It is worthy of remark that it is not necessary to the
adornment of our profession that we be always talking
about religion. We shall best preserve a character
for piety by talking in its spirit. Mlany whose lips are




GENERAL SOCIETY.                 87
often made the channel of religious thought, show in
their demeanor few of the marks of operative grace.
They have a haughtiness of mien and a severity of
tone which true charity wots not of. She suffereth
long and is kind. Those sticklers of orthodoxy who
torture every sentence that will not exactly answer to
the Procrustes' bed of their creed, and cry out
against every sentence that is not just as they would
have it, prove that the faith they so zealously defend
has not made them meek and gentle in life. Such
as rebuke without mercy, every transgressor that
comes in their way, or such as set up for religious
instructors, or always fly to the defence of religion
before it has been attacked, do less to recommend
their doctrines than those who, if they do not often
allude to the letter of the Gospel, show, in a thousand nameless ways, that their hearts feel its power.
To handle sacred things with due reverence, to manifest a spiritual mind in the selection and treatment
of themes, to diffuse a heavenly savor over all one's
communications, to speak of the faults of others with
charity and compassion, to have a tender concern for
the feelings of others, to bear submissively arrogance
and rudeness, to abide affliction and wrong with
cheerfulness, these and many other actions like these
do more to convince the world of the reality of the
Christian faith, than the aptest quotations, weightiest
arguments, and the strongest protestations on its behalf. "Let your speech," says Paul, "be always
with grace, seasoned with salt." He would have
divine grace send out its holy and pleasant influences
in all our discourse, and the salt of sacred truth —not
in the crude mass, but in solution and diffusion, pre



88            CONVERSATION IN
serve all our sentiments from moral taint, and season
even the most common and secular subjects. We
hear plenty of people talk of this clergyman or the
other, of the singing of choirs, of the people they saw
at church, of the architecture of a church edificewhen shall we stop? Ah, we fear this enumeration
of themes must end where the marks of heartfelt devotion begin. It is not enough that we ply our
tongues about the forms and appendages of religion,
all our words and actions should declare its effects.
The whiteness of the galaxy, when viewed through a
large telescope, is resolved into millions of stars,
whose interwoven rays form the zone that girds the
spangled robe of night. Even thus should the Christian, in his intercourse with the world, display a
character to the formation of which every divine influence has administered its share, and a conduct in
which, if every grace does not always seve:.zlly appear, yet a conduct which is the pure, and mild, and
sublime result of them all.
Hence the importance of going into society with a
thorough preparation of spirit.  So manifold and
powerful are the temptations that compass the Christian there, he cannot pray too fervently for Divine
guidance and protection. Without previous self-examination, meditation, and prayer, and without
always keeping up the watch while he is in company, he will be liable, by his misdoings, to excite the
contempt, if not the derision, of earthlings. In a
thoughtless hour he will resolve, perhaps, to lose
himself in the mazes of the gay assembly, but he is
not, let him be assured, lost sight of by those who
may appear to take no notice of his behavior at the




GENERAL SOCIETY.                89
time, and very likely that for the time some may forget his profession. But in an after-hour of sober review, they will call it to mind, and its incongruity
with his conduct will be an object of scandal and
scorn. As the person who would not appear ridiculous, must not go into company with higher spirits
than those of other people, so the Christian who
would not be despised must not enter the circles of
the world with any other feelings than such as they
have reason to expect from his- religious profession.
He must take care to say nothing that cannot stand
the test of those who appear there under' a cloak
of maliciousness "-nothing which, when separated
from the hilarity that gave it birth, and was then its
apology, can bear a meaning which the speaker
never thought of. Against such surprises, prayer,
and the grace it obtains, are the best of safeguards.
He who comes down into the world, direct from the
audience-chamber of the King of kings, will bring
with him the recollection of the petitions lie there
offered up, and the gravity and moderation which he
observed in that august presence.




CHAPTER VI.
INTERVIEWS WITH THE UNBELIEVER RELATIVE TO HIS
SPIRITUAL INTERESTS.
CoNVERSATIONS with unrenewed individuals on
the subject of personal religion, is a very important,
though much-neglected duty. The preacher addressing, as he often must, large mixed assemblies, cannot
easily bring each hearer to feel the glad tidings of
salvation to be his personal concern. Mien but too
often regard the arrows of truth as they do those of
death, as never aimed at themselves, though they
know multitudes who, in their opinion, are fit and
appointed marks. The pious converser does not encounter this difficulty. He comes to the sinner as
Elijah did to Ahab, and as Nathan did to David.
He turns away the sinner from hearing and judging
of the sins of others, and leads him to exercise contrition before God, and faith in Christ.
The generality of sinners expect that those who
have experienced a radical change of heart and life,
who are actuated by the love of Christ and the hopes
of the gospel, will recommend to their kindred,
friends, and neighbors, the grace they have found,
and warn them of the danger to which they believe
them exposed. The sinner asks himself, " Shall the
Christian, who professes to be an heir of a celestial




INTERVIEW  WITH THE UNBELIEVER.  91
inheritance, and believes that I may, if I will, gain
one equally rich, shall he neglect to persuade me to
secure a blissful provision for eternity?  Does he
declare himself my friend, and yet when he sees
my soul hanging over the brink of the fiery lake,
into which if I fall there can be no rescue, cannot
tell me of my peril? IHas his great physician healed
him, and can he refrain from recommending Him to
me, who am, as he says, dying of the disease of
which he is cured? He is concerned for my secular
affairs: he counsels, warns, persuades me, with respect to them, and can he be silent concerning the
supreme and the infinite good? If he be sincere,
and if he be my friend, he will speak to me on this
subject; and though I wish he would not do it, he
cares not for my soul and he is a hypocrite, if he does
not."  It is a good rule in this case, as it is in many
others, to enquire what does the man of the world
expect of me? Though some may affect surprise that
we should address them on this subject, we may be
assured that such surprise is dissembled. There is
a very general expectation among unregenerate sinners, that Christians will press upon their hearts and
consciences the claims of the Redeemer.
And let the Christian be encouraged to the task
by the consideration that the conscience of the sinner is on his side. However wide-spread may be the
moral desolation within him, there is yet a voice
crying in the wilderness of his soul, " Repent!" and
that voice will answer to every faithful appeal on
the part of the Christian. His conscience will not,
to be sure, always lessen his present resistance: for
being attacked both from within and from without,




92 INTERVIEWS WITH THE UNBELIEVER.
he may be driven to desperation, and lay hold of ungentle weapons of defence. But though the benevolent offices of his pious friend should be ungratefully
resisted at the time, let him hope that he has left
the memorial of them graven on a tablet that will
one day engage the sinner's serious attention, be a
motive to penitence, and a theme of gratitude throughout the whole course of his being.
It is a common remark that Christians are more
apt to recoil from the duty of serious conversation
with their kindred and friends than with other persons. We will not stop to inquire into the causes of
this aversion-causes which operate with too fatal
regularity.  Whatever they are, our chief concern
must be to remove them. The untold influence which
relations and friends mutually exert over one another,
for good or for evil, should be employed to break
the spell which the world casts over the soul, and
conduct it up the steeps of Golgotha. It seems as if
the Destroyer used his wisest arts to dissuade the
saints front taking advantage of the natural affections, to allure souls to the cross, by availing themselves of which, they might do most to lessen the
number of his victims.
What bitter lamentations has the omission of this
duty occasioned-lamentations rendered all the more
bitter by the reflection that the consequences of such
delinquency could not be remedied by any future
diligence.  How many have thought with one who
excused himself till too late from the duty of speaking to an acquaintance on the subject of his salvation. His language is, " Oh," thought I, "that I had
listened to the voice of God's Spirit, and had done




INTERVIEWS WITH THE UNBELIEVER. 93
my duty.  Perhaps I might have saved his soul
from perdition; at least I might have cleared my
own skirts and washed my hands in innocency. But
now, alas! it is too late! forever too late! his doom is
irrevocably sealed!"  A Christian mother, who had
deferred from time to timle the duty of leading the
heart of her son to Christ, after his sudden death
was heard to chide her fatal delays in these words:
"He has gone into eternity and left me distracted
with anxiety concerning the salvation of his precious
soul! Dilatory wretch! Had it not been for my own
sin, I might now have been consoling myself with
the satisfactory conviction of having discharged the
duty of a Christian parent, and enjoying the delightful assurance of meeting my child before the throne
of God and the Lamb. Oh the accursed sin of procrastination! Oh the ruinous delusion that lurks in
the word to-morow./"
Htow much good may one do in a lifetime by seizing every occasion of speaking for Christ.  The
writer once learned a lesson from a slave, which has
been very beneficial to him. Some years ago, while
paying a visit to Mount Vernon, he chanced to be
strolling alone among the cabins of the negroes belonging to the estate, when he saw an aged negress
sitting on a threshold smoking her pipe. He ventured to draw nigh and ask her if she had known
Washington. Instead of a direct answer she asked,
"Do you know God?"  "I hope I know something
of Him, ma'am."  " How then may one know God,
sir. " We may learn something about his goodness
and handiwork, from what we see in yonder garden,
and in these beautifil trees.1" "You're Tight, Massa;




94 INTERVIEWS WITH THE UNBELIEVER.
but is there no other way of knowing Him?" "Yes,
ma'am, we may also learn something of Him from
his dealings with the sons of men, the history of nations, and the lives of individuals." "Can we? But
in no other way?" " From the Bible we gain more
knowledge of God than from all the other sources
put together."  " Yes indeed, and is there no othei
way?" P  By experience." - Laying her hand upon
her heart, and lifting her bleared eyes to heaven,
she exclaimed, "Ah, now you haye it, Massa!"
That countenance, though it bore the marks of
nearly a hundred years of servitude, seemed to
reflect the smile of an angel. After further pious
discourse, she told me she had seen Washington but
once, and that was when she was a cook in the camp
of the army that fought under him. When the
writer left the door of the humble cabin, he felt that
there were other spots at Mount Vernon not less
sacred than the tomb, the house, and the garden of
Washington; he considered how many blessed impressions she had made on the minds of the gay
children of this world who daily visited the spot.
This was piety not to be doubted of. In a painting
of the Last Judgment, by Orcagna, Solomon is represented rising from the dead, uncertain which way to
turn, and those about him seem at a loss whither
to direct him-such is the uncertainty felt by too
many of the great ones of this world, and such is the
uncertainty too many of their acquaintance must feel
concerning their eternal destiny.  But who could
talk with this poor slave for five minutes, and entertain a single doubt as to her citizenship?  While
men of patient research are anxiously comparing




INTERVIEWS WITH THE UNBELIEVER. 95
notes, to make out the shadow of a hope as to the
hereafter of some of our greatest statesmen, the name
of Hannah Nugent-that was her name-must ever
be synonymous with piety, in the minds of all who
knew her. i[Many whose names are adopted into all
languages, never to be obsolete in any coming generation, and are written on the stars, will envy her
glory when they shall behold her name recorded in
the Lamb's book of life. Oh Lord, how long shall
a doubtfull piety be thought necessary to gain a political popularity. But we are wandering from our
subject; however, we may sometimes become better
acquainted with a country we are travelling through,
by losing our way than by keeping the beaten road.
The very important work we are considering,
should not be undertaken without previous prayer.
We need to be impressed with the conviction that
success will not depend altogether upon our address
or a happy combination of circumstances. The faltering word, the broken but heart-felt entreaty, or the
honest but ill-worded warning has, when directed by
the Divine spirit, often been known to reach the
heart, and prepare a place for repentance. Pr'ayer
is an essential preliminary to this duty, both because
it obtains the co-operation of the HIoly Ghost, and
because the very act brings the soul into that humble, confiding, and earnest posture, with which we
should enter upon the performance of the duty.
The Christian who is accustomed to perform this
duty, will occasionally find the prayers with which
he prepared for the conference, immediately answered, the Holy Ghost gone before him, already
in possession of the sinner's soul, and waiting to




96 INTERVIEWS WITH THE UNBELIEVER.
welcome his approach. He will find the work, to
which he looked forward with so many anxieties,
anticipated by the sinner himself, and be happily
surprised to meet with a true Israelite dwelling in
Meshech, or perhaps one whose heart is transfixed
with the arrow of conviction, and implores his hand
to disengage its barb; or one who has a timid hope
that needs encouragement. With what joy does it
repay the tears of him who goes forth to the spiritual
harvest, to see the sheaves in a manner already
bound on the wain, and coming forth to meet the
husbandman.
Another chief qualification is a tender spirit. To be
able to recollect our own former stubbornness, blindness, and insensibility, and to bear them in mind in
our exhortations to the ungodly, to realize his true,
not his fancied condition, to have compassion on his
lost soul, to "warn with tears," and to receive his
taunts and rebuffs with meekness; these carry with
them an eloquence that can melt the heart of flint,
and break the iron will. There is no virtue more
peculiarly Christ-like than this tenderness, and those
in whom it appears, give to the sinner the best evidence of the reality and power of the Christian faith.
This duty should also be performed in a sweet and
unpretending manner. Those greatly mistake who
put on sour and sanctimonious airs, and use a studied
solemnity of speech in urging the sinner to duty.
Seriousness and earnestness there must be, but what
need is there of a severe and repulsive bearing? Let
it be sufficient to press upon the conscience forbidding truths, without adding thereto the weight of an
offensive address. Yet, we would not be understood




INTERVIEWS WITH THE UNBELIEVER. 97
to favor that light and negligent behavior, by which
some endeavor to gain for their persuasives a ready
lodgment in the heart. This extreme is, if possible,
more ill-placed than the other.
It is the current practice in introducing pious
conversation, to follow the course of common talk
until an occasion offers of turning it in a spiritual
direction. This is done with a view to conciliate
the person addressed, without startling or affronting him by a blunt and dashing address. In pursuing this method we must not suffer the secular
topic to be so long dwelt on as to excite a livelier
interest than can be enlisted on the side of religion. If we give worldly matters the start, they
are apt to keep foremost, unless we speedily overtake
them. We should not talk on such subjects so as to
raise them into undue consequence, but so as either
to make them appear in their own comparative insignificance, or to make them a graceful introduction
to higher themes. But in doing this we should not
indulge a censorious spirit which snatches up every
word that drops from another's lips, and applies to
it the rule of morality and the gauge of orthodoxy.
Some good people talk with a man of the world as
if their religion were the only object in the universe
that deserved the slightest attention of mortals. If
one admires a work of art, they observe that it is a
trifle to an immortal being, or it is nothing in comparison with the achievments of divine grace. They
seem to suppose they cannot do justice to Christianity unless they do injustice to everything beside.
That baubles do captivate the souls of multitudes is
a most deplorable fact; but we shall hardly convince: * EF




98  INTERVIEWS WITH THE UNBELIEVER.
them of their folly on those occasions when they
are the most highly delighted with these baubles, or
when they are calling on us to share the pleasure
they take in seeing and talking about them. We
should close our hearts against that cynical spirit
which says to every subject that is like to eclipse our
favorite one: "Stand out of my light."  We should
aim to make religion the most important concern,
without betraying too strong a contempt for what
others deem equally important. The indirect mode
of address of which we are speaking is, we fear, oftener resorted to than is warranted by the dignity
and sacredness of the duty or the simplicity and
earnestness which should ever attend its performance. Though it may sometimes be employed in
talking with individuals of their spiritual interests,
it is principally useful in raising the tone of conversation in mixed companies.
And these indirect approaches would be less demanded were we more careful to bring forward the
subject with a pertinent introduction. Such introduction might take the shape of an apology, confession, interrogation, or explanation. We do not suggest these as the only allowable ways of commencing
interviews of this kind. Occasions and circumstances are so various, that no specifications would
be adapted to every case. If, as we have hinted, we
engage in a long talk on a subject foreign to the one
contemplated, before the latter is introduced, we are
in danger of dissipating those serious feelings which
are answerable to the nature of the duty. B1ut if the
Christian comes straightway from communion with
God, his' lips touched with a live coal off the altar of




INTERVIEWS'WVITH THE  UNBELIEVER.  99
grace, and sheldding around him fragrance from the
censer of prayer, making some introductory remarlks
relating either to the moral relations of the parties
or to the subject to be urged, his manner will be
marked by a noble frankness and gentle courage
which are every-way worthy of the child of God and
of his benevolent purpose.
The course here suggested is different from that of
him who ushers in the subject of religion as informally as he does a secular affair, pronounces sacred
names as familiarly as he does profane, degrades the
most awful sul)jects to a level with the trifles of a
day, and appalls even the confirmed Christian with
unlooked-for and misplaced homilies. Nevertheless,
when the feelings of the man are right, and his defect is one of judgment only, a generous man of the
world will pardon much in him. His sublime intent
will throw a faulty manner into the shade.
To converse successfully with an impenitent person we must meet him alone. While he is surrounded with his associates, he is kept in countenance by
them. The fear of incurring their scorn, or perhaps
the encouraogement he receives from their presence,
keeps him from hearing us with candor and seriousness. He is tempted to disguise his real sentiments
and to play a false part. If we can only separate
him from  his confederates, he will probably talk on
the subject with little reserve, especially if we are
almost or quite strangers to him.  NWe should not,
therefore, in ordinary cases, appeal to several at a
time. If' wve may be allowed to illustrate a work of
mercy by a work of atrocity, we would say that the
Christian should in this case adopt the stratagem of




100 INTERVIEWS WVITH THE UNBELIEVER.
HToratius in killing the three Curiatii; he should
contrive to divide them by wide intervals, and then
overcome each one in single combat.
Not only should such interviews be private, but
what is said in them should be strictly confidential.
If I blazon abroad what passed between us, it is a
betrayal of the trust which the sinner placed in me
when he opened his heart to me. This is the general rule. Special circumstances may justify a departure from it, as where the sinner has misreported
our remarks, or where a dying penitent would make
us the bearer of some message of consolation or warning to his surviving friends.
Some sinners will make the application for themselves, of religious discourse in which they take no
part, and which does not take the shape of expostulation. There are many cases on record of conversions which resulted from overhearing serious conversations.
A great many account themselves excused from
dealing with the souls of their acquaintance on the
plea that they are petulant, unreasonable, or outrageous. They tell us that they would reject their
testimony and assault them. They quote, in self-justification, that proverbial direction of our Lord to his
apostles: ~"Give not that which is holy unto the
dogs, neither cast ye your pearls before swine, lest
they trample them under their feet, and turn again
and rend you.8  The apostles, to whom this precept
was especially addressed, understood by it that they
should not persist in preaching the gospel to such as
should contemptuously reject it, and abuse them.
8 Matthew vii. 6.




.INTERVIEWS WITH THE UNBELIEVER. 101
But they were in no case to take for granted that any
individual was unworthy to receive the divine message before making a trial of his disposition towards
them. They were commanded to preach the Gospel
to every human being; whoever heard the glad
tidings only to scorn it, and to maltreat the heralds,
were at once to be forsaken by them. That this is
the import of the general injunction is shown by the
more specific directions which were given relative to
the same subject.9 Whatever house or city would
not receive them nor hear their teachings, they were
to depart from it, shaking the dust off their feet as a
testimony against their conduct. They are nowhere
directed to pass by any individual, or family, or
community, for fear of being ill-treated by it. Their
1Master had forewarned them that He sent them forth
as sheep among wolves; and the usage they commonly met with but too literally verified his predictions. They had themselves strong presentiments of
the persecutions that awaited them in the cities they
were to enter. Nevertheless they considered it their
duty to go into the very cities where, as the Holy
Ghost had foretold, they were to be received with
wanton and vindictive cruelty. In this view no one
is warranted to abstain from religious conversation
with a person from a suspicion that it will be repaid
with neglect, or contempt, or effrontery. We must
not prejudge others to be dogs or swine, but are to
account them such only when their treatment of ourselves or of our communications, has proved them
deserving of these appellations. It is nothing that
they have already resented the well-meant attempts
9 Matthew x. 14; Mark vi. 11; Luke x. 10, l1.




102 INTERVIEWS WITH THE UNBELIEVER.
of others. This does not demonstrate that ours will be
so received. Our duty is done only when their opposition to us has rendered our further endeavors vain.
The precept in question may refer not only to the
characters to be addressed, but also to the subjectmatter of our conversations with unbelievers in general. It is, in most cases, injudicious to talk with
them of the joys of heaven, the pleasures of Christian hope and faith, the doctrines of election, perseverance, assurance, the Trinity, especially the mysteries in which some Scripture truths are involved.
Nor should we talk with them on what is peculiar to
our religious experience or belief. We should dilate
on the general subject only, noticing those features
in experience which are common to most, if not all,
spiritual persons, excepting always cases where t/hey
request us to give them a circumstantial account of
our conversion. We shall sometimes be able to arrest the attention of a person that is insensible to his
moral condition and wants, by talking in a strain
like the following: "'I was once in the same state
that you are now, and though I then felt no concern
for my soul, I am now convinced I had every reason
to be alarmed, and that, had I always continued in
such a condition, I must have been lost forever. I
found this very insensibility to be most hateful and
loathsome to God. I forsook the course of life which
nurtured it, and, as I humbly hope, repented of my
sins, and believed in Christ."  To aid convictions of
sin in a moralist or a self-righteous person, some
such sentiments as the following will not be useless: "I did not believe myself to be guilty before
God till I seriously reviewed my life in the light




INTERVIEWS WITH THE UNBELIEVER. 103
of the divine law which reaches the thoughts, desiles,
and purposes, and in the light of the cross, which revealed to me the enormity of my sins, when I saw it
was by a sacrifice of untold cost that their pardon
was made possible. I now learned that those actions, such as honesty, generosity, and temperance,
upon which I secretly valued myself, were prompted
by wrong motives. I discovered that all my boasted
virtues were essentially defective in the motive that
prompted them; for I did not love God-my heart
was enmity against Him."  When the man of the
world respectfully asks us to relate our experience,
we should do it with a mild and reverent spirit. Says
the apostle Peter, " Be ready always to give an answer to every man that asketh you a reason of the
hope that is in you, with meekness and fear." We
should always make a clear, unadorned statement of
our spiritual exercises, not glorying in our experience, but in its Author; not making it an apology
for present delinquencies, but a rebuke for them; not
a test by which to try the experience of others, nor
an occasion of vain-glorious triumph over others; but
to deepen the conviction of our own ingratitude and
unworthiness.
It may here be remarked, that, though the precept
just quoted requires us to be ready to give a recason
for our hope, it does not require us to answer every
objection that a caviller could raise against Christianity. Objections may be brought by any one, who is
in a humor to raise them, against doctrines that can
be established by undeniable and overwhelming
proofs. Objections neither prove nor disprove anything.




104 INTERVIEWS WITH THE UNBELIEVER.
There are those who think that every mention of
personal piety in the hearing of unbelievers is to
give the holy to dogs and to cast pearls before swine.
They would confine so sacred a thing as religion to
cloisters, grave-yards, dark and bolted cathedrals,
chained Bibles, and clasped prayer-books. But let
those who thus keep the Christian religion at a ceremonious distance say and do what they will, she
never shines with a more celestial radiance than
when she walks in the light of daily life. What if
the pearl must not be cast before swine? Shall it
then be always locked in the casket and never adorn
beauty. Divine grace and truth are the most comely ornaments that man ever wore, nor do they lose
aught of their brilliance by their contact with human
nature and with secular vocations.  The diamond
is despoiled of none of its brilliance by being set
in gold. The foil and the bezel which enchase it,
though they are not to be compared with it in material; yet they add to its elegance and its price.
It is incumbent on us to seize every opportunity
for arresting the course of sinners and leading them
into the way of peace. In our daily intercourse with
them, suitable occasions will offer when a pious mind
can hardly avoid calling their thoughts to the subject. Some incident will naturally start our theme,
and furnish mat.ter for its illustration and enforcement. Sickness, accidents, losses, favors bestowed
or received, and numerous other occasions, will suggest an admonition, an entreaty or an exhortation.
When the Rev. Peter Mill was once travelling on
foot in Yorkshire, he came to a large pit whose
brink was covered with drifted snow; at that mo



INTERVIEWS WITH THE UNBELIEVER. 105
ment, a young woman coming up warned him  of
his danger. After expressing his gratitude for her
great kindness, he exhorted her to flee from  the
wrath to come, and expressed an ardent desire that
as a return for the service she had rendered him, he
might be the means of saving her soul from a more
awful pit than that from which she had been instrumental in saving his body.  While he spoke with
gratitude sparkling in his eyes, and his countenance
expressing more than his tongue could declare, she
began earnestly to cry; "what must I do to be
saved.?"   She  soon  after obtained  peace to her
troubled conscience through faith in her Saviour.
When Dr. Payson was taking leave of an old lady
who had entertained him under her roof, he said to
her; "Madam, you have treated  me with much
hospitality and kindness, for which I thank you sincerely; but allow me to ask how do you treat my
Master?  That is of infinitely greater consequence
than how you treat me." HIe continued for a time
in a strain of appropriate exhortation, and then proceeded on his journey. This visit was sanctified to
the conversion of the lady and her household, whence
the work of grace spread in the neighborhood, and
in a short time a church was gathered, and the ordinances of religion established.'  In improving such
10 How different the influence of such men of God from that of
many of those who are popularly called "good pastors," i. e. them
that spend most of their time in going to dinner and tea-parties, and
in free-and-easy gossipping with their parishoners, avowing no higher
purpose than that of adding to the number of pew-holders; and never
showing any solicitude for the eternal welfare of their flock, in their
nominally pastoral visits. An amnusing and truthful, though somewhat
antique picture of one of this sort of men is seen in an old, anonymous
E




106 INTERVIEWS WITH THE UNBELIEVER.
occasions we must beware of that perfunctory manner which seems to say that we would not have made
a solemn remark had it not been forced upon us by
the occurrence, or did not our Christian  profession
exact of us something of the kind.  We should ever
cherish  an ardent compassion and  solicitude which
needs but the slightest incident to fan it into a flame.
A word to be fitly spoken, must be spoken not only
at a proper time but in a suitable spirit. The apple
of gold should not be heedlessly tossed into the basket
of silver. Still, after all, there are those who make
it a pretext for the indefinite postponement of this
duty that they cannot find  a fit time, a desirable
state of mind, or some happy conjuncture.   They
do well to consider that the sinner may find a thousand  ways  of ruining  his  soul while  they  are
poem, " The Triumph of Infidelity," dated 1788 —by the highest literary authorities now attributed to President Dwight:
"Each week, he paid his visitation dues;
coax'd, jested, laugh'd; rehears'd the private news;
Smok'd with each goody, thought her cheese excell'd;
Her pipe he lighted, and her baby held.
Or plac'd in some great town, with lacquer'd shoes,
Trim wig, and trimmer gown, and glistening hose,
He bow'd, talk'd politics, learn'd manners mild;
Most meekly questioned, and most smoothly smil'd;
At rich men's jests laughed loud, their stories prais'd;
Their wives' new patterns gaz'd, and gaz'd, and gaz'd;
Most daintily on pamper'd turkies din'd;
Nor shrank with fasting, nor with study pin'd:
Yet from their churches saw his brethren driven,
Who thunder'd truth, and spoke the voice of heaven,
Chill'd trembling guilt, in Satan's headlong path,
Charm'd the feet back, and rous'd the ear of death.'Let fools," he cried, "starve on, while prudent I
Snug in my nest shall live, and snug shall die."




INTERVIEWS WITH THE UNBELIEVER. 107
waiting for one opportunity to attempt his conversion.
Accost some sinners on the subject of personal religion in the gentlest and most conciliating manner,
and they will accuse you of impertinence or officiousness. Thus do they regard a point of spurious politeness as of more consequence than the welfare of
their souls, and prefer that we should consult their
momentary ease at the forfeiture of their everlasting
bliss. They most grievously undervalue the Christian's endeavors. Had they ever suffered that pain
with which lie beholds them insulting his Father and
his Saviour; had they ever felt his disinterested
solicitude which follows them day by day and wakes
and weeps and prays for them at the midnight hour:
had they been seized with his shudderings when he
sees them climbing along the sides of the bottomless
pit —had they ever experienced these things, they
would soon transform a presumed impropriety into
an act of the highest courtesy. When the palace of
the king of Spain was on fire, a soldier knowing
the king's sister was in her apartment, and in
danger of perishing in the flames, at the risk of
his life rushed in and brought her highness safe
out in his arms; but the Spanish etiquette was
here woefully broken into. The loyal soldier was
brought to trial, and as it was impossible to deny
that he had entered her apartment, the judges condemned him to die. The Spanish princess, however,
condescended to pardon the soldier, and very benevolently saved his life! Now, it is just in this
way that your pretenders to gentility requite those
who would " save them with fear, pulling them out




108 INTERVIEWS WITH THE UNBELIEVER.
of the fire" -those who for the sake of their eternal
welfare perform acts of self-devotement in the presence of which the noblest services of mere good
breeding shrink into utter meanness. Let no Christian allow such a hollow-hearted delicacy ever to
keep him from going to the rescue of a fellow immortal.'1
In matters of life and death, in all other affairs of
great and urgent concern, it becomes us to be so selfdevoted, as if needs be to break through the cobwebs of ceremony, and forget the restraint of modish
frigidity.  When Esther went into the audiencechamber of the king to intercede in behalf of her endangered countrymen, her act, though it was a violation of court etiquette, was not merely proper, it
was more than heroic. When Mrs. Ann H. Judson
went unceremoniously to the court of Ava to implore
relief for her imprisoned husband, her very fearlessness and neglect of forms were more eloquent than
speech. And if these informal intercessions in behalf of mortal life call for our admiration, so do unseasonable entreaties to those whose immortal spirits
are on the point of passing beyond the reach of
mercy and hope. The redemption of the soul is so
unspeakably desirable, that when proprieties stand
in the way, they should be disregarded as of no account. Every reasonable being will pardon something to the faith which makes the greatest affairs of
time as less than nothing, when set over against the
interests of eternity, to the benevolence that chooses
to save rather than to please, and to the fear of being
arraigned before the judgment Throne, clad in robes
n See " Principles of Courtesy," Part III., Chap. xiii., p. 265.




INTERVIEWS WITH THE UNBELIEVER. 109
that are discolored with the blood of murdered souls.
The conscientious servant of Christ hears voices from
every part of the universe, calling him to "be instant? in season, out of season, to reprove, rebuke, and
exhort with all long-suffering and doctrine."
We often hear wise and good men say,'" Why, sirs,
if we believed there is a hell, and loved the souls of
men as we ought, we would run out into the streets and
cry, Flee hell fire!" And there can be little doubt
that if we did believe God, and love man in due degree, we would contrive a hundred methods of warning the wicked, where we now devise one; yet direct
and urgent measures are not always expedient. A
fresco painter seeing his fellow-artist walking backwards, so absorbed in viewing his work as not to
notice that there was but a step between him and
the edge of the scaffold, instead of alarming the
endangered artist, immediately dashed his own
brush over the picture; whereupon he sprang forward in indignation, and so escaped the awful brink.
Here is wisdom. Rather than tell some men they
are in danger of endless misery, we should draw
them away from the sides of the pit by dashing a
false hope, by holding up some motive of encouragement, or by convincing them of their guiltiness; or
what is best of all, by setting forth the love and sufferings of Jesus Christ —we say some men, for there
are many men, and perhaps they are the majority
of men who are principally moved by their fears,
and must look down into perdition before they can
look into themselves, or unto Jesus. We should suffer no false compassion to flatter us that we are wiser
than the Holy Spirit who says in Jude, " Of some




110 INTERVIEWS WITH THE UNBELIEVER.
have compassion, making a difference, and others
save with fear."
In discharging this duty, as far as can be, keep
clear of controverted questions. Very many of the
unconverted give no other attention to religion than
what they bestow on some trifling, speculative, or
mysterious point in theology. Rarely do we hear
them inquiring into the nature and obligations of
any Scripture precept.  They have plenty of futile
questions to propose and discuss till they see the
danger that hangs over their souls; then their single
inquiry is: "What must we do to be saved?"  We
should therefore shun what they themselves would
shun, did they see their peril as clearly as we
do. The tendency of this kind of discussion, when
carried on with this class of persons, is generally anything but salutary.  They too often either begin or
end in a want of seriousness, hurmility, or kindness.
The counsel of Paul is: "Foolish and unlearned
questions avoid, knowing that they do gender
strifes."  Unless these controversies are managed
with unusual skill, the man of the world most commonly comes out of them more opposed to the truth,
or to its advocates, than when he entered them, and
the Christian who enters these fields of controversy,
even though it be in the company of the meek, is exposed to a fate which may be illustrated by that of
the traveller who wanders over certain savannas of
the west, where lie finds no path or way-mark, and
where he is exposed to dank vapors, which cause
paleness, weakness, disease and death.  When an
essential doctrine is denied, the Christian may be expected to defend it, and when it is not understood, to




INTERVIEWS WITH THE UNBELIEVER. 111
explain it so far as explanation is possible; but he is
not called upon to encourage, or to undertake to
satisfy an idle curiosity, or to bring to light what Infinite Wisdom has left in the dark. He should take
pattern from his Master, as to the way to dispose of
unprofitable and impertinent questions. When one
put to him the question, "Lord, are there few that
be saved?"  Ie answered: "'Strive to enter in at
the strait gate; for many, I say unto you, shall seek
to enter in and shall not be able."  Without directly
replying to the inquiry, he makes it the occasion of
exhorting all the bystanders to immediate and earnest
effort to secure their own salvation. The Christian
can, in this way, turn the thoughts of the careless into
a higher channel, -fasten conviction on their consciences, and bring them to feel the force of the truthvery often lost sight of-that the records of revelation
were intended not to afford matter for speculation, but
to teach rules of life; not to envelope our immortality
in darkness, but to bring it to light, and to illuminate
a path thereto.  It is not advisable, however, to
waive the discussion of every question however fair,
else we shall give occasion for the false imputation
that our faith does not consist with reason. If we
altogether reject reasoning in matters of religion, we
shall provoke the unbeliever to take the opposite
ground, and admit nothing else. The dogmatist is
always the parent of the rationalist.
In conducting an argument with sceptics and
infidels, the Christian will derive more advantage
from a thorough knowledge of the evidences of
Christianity, than from that of the sacred books
themselves. Without such knowledge, no Christian




112 INTERVIEWS WITH THE UNBELIEVER.
is qualified "to give an answer to those who ask
him a reason for the hope that is in him."  When
unbelievers find the generality of professors ignorant of the evidences of their faith, it cannot be a
matter of wonder that their discussions with such
persons should serve only to confirm them in their
unbelief. It is not enough that the Christian appeal
to his inward experiences. Such an appeal, if it had
any weight with the infidel, would, among other
things, go to prove the reality of an extraordinary
divine influence. It could not of itself establish the
authenticity of the Scriptures. It will not do to put
off the doubter with such reasons, though a regenerate man may be satisfied with them. We are permitted, indeed, to excuse ourselves from bringing to
the test of mere reason some things which our sacred
writings contain; not because they are contrary to
reason, but because they are above reason.  But
Christian evidences afford a fair field for the exercise of our argumentative powers, and the infidel
has a right to challenge us to meet him on this field,
armed with every logical weapon.
On the other hand we should never stake the
truth of any scripttre doctrine on the issue of its
reasonableness, or consent to defend it on metaphysical grounds alone. We are allowed, to be sure, to
mneet unbelievers on their own ground in testing the
reasonableness of a revealed truth, but it must always
be done with the understanding that we do not consider it the proper ground. With those who do not
admit the divine authority of the Scriptures, we
must establish their authenticity from external and
internal testimonies, and not, as many i njudiciously do,




INTERVIEWS WITHE THE UNBELIEVER. 113
abandon Scripture proofs when their divine origin is
denied, and tamely submit to the terms of their adversaries. With those who admit the divine authority
of the Bible, an appeal should always be made " to
the law and to the testimony," and on them and on
them alone join issue.
When the infidel whom we would persuade is a
veteran in wickedness, and in many cases when he
is outwardly respectable, we can make an appeal to
his conscience, and with some hope of success; inasmuch as it is easier for him to disorder the reasoning faculty to such a degree as to mnake it discordant
with the sacred oracles, than it is for him to corrupt
the moral sense so as to make it contradict them.
How closely soever the understanding may be in
league with the powers of darkness, conscience, the
vicegerent of God in the soul, may yet in some
degree maintain his allegiance to his Master. A
voice like that of the demoniacs of old is still heard
amid the ravings of a deranged mind, crying:
"Thou art Christ, the son of God."  Few, very few,
have been the sceptics and unbelievers who have
been able entirely to silence this inward witness to
revealed truth. It speaks at solemn intervals during
the most dissolute life, and in the hour of death it
cries out in despair and terror.  When the plain
practical duties of the gospel are enforced on the
conscience of the infidel, he stands convinced both
of his sinfulness and of the reality of the Christian
system. These addresses are to be made in a kind
and humble spirit, and not for the purpose of evading the force of an argument which we are unable
to answer, nor with the design of silencing an oppo



114 INTERVIEWS WITH THE UNBELIEVER.
nent; but with the simple intention to lead him to a
cordial reception of the gospel.
Let no professor think he has acquitted himself of
all negligence on this score, when he has merely
observed to the sinner that life is short, death certain; that he has occasion for gratitude to God for
earthly blessings; or formally spoken of the vanity
of temporal good, and the importance of providing
for our eternal felicity; the loveliness of virtue, and
the odiousness of vice. No-no —this is not enough.
Let us bring him to feel his guiltiness and danger
before God, and when he has come to realize that he
is lost, keep him from every false trust, until he finds
rest at the foot of the cross.
During revivals it not unfrequently happens that
zealous laymen are too ready to give their advice to
awakened sinners, taking upon themselves a task
which their minister ought to know how to perform
better than any other person. They often give counsel which confuses the mind of the enquirer, if they
do not lead him fatally astray. It is as if several
physicians were to prescribe for the same patient.
In seasons of religious apathy the opposite fault
commonly prevails. Then professors are continually
rolling the responsibility of the duty upon one another, so that it is allowed to rest upon none. They
are so tenacious of points of precedence, that, while
they are adjusting them, the soul to be saved has
passed to its account. It is somewhere stated, that the
fire-maker of the court of Philip the Third of Spain
one day kindled so great a fire that the monarch,
who was seated by the fireside, was nearly suffocated
with heat. His dignity would not suffer him to rise




INTERVIEWS WITH  THE UNBELIEVER. 115
from the chair; the domestics could not presume to
enter the apartment, because it was against the etiquette. At length the Marquis de Pota appeared,
and the king ordered him to damp the fires; but he
excused himself, alleging that he was forbidden by
the etiquette to perform such a function, for which
the Duke d'Usseda ought to be called upon, as it was
his business.  The duke was gone out, the  fire
burned fiercer, and the king endured it rather than
derogate from  his dignity. It heated his blood to
such a degree that an erysipelas of the head appeared the next day, which, succeeded by a violent
fever, carried him off in the twenty-fourth year of
his age. This conduct of the king's attendants finds
a parallel in that of many a professor. Is he a parent and begins to question whether he has neglected
the religious instruction and admonition of his son?
He straightway decides that this is more properly
the duty of his pastor, or his chaplain, or his wife, or
the boy's tutor; while those to whom he tacitly resigns the office, as tacitly shift the responsibility
upon one another. Is he a new convert, beginning to
feel that he ought to warn his former companions?
He soon lays his conscience to rest with the recollection that the individual has a pious parent, other relative, or pious companion, more intimate than himself, who, it is to be presumed, will faithfully execute
the task. If we except procrastination, there is no
habit that is accessory to the loss of so many souls as
this kind of deference.
He who guides the anxious sinner must be careful
not to forestall the work of the Holy Spirit, or, by
officious kindness, transfer the sinner's reliance from




116 INTERVIEWS WITH THE UNBELIEVER.
the Spirit to the wisdom of man. When "the still
small voice" is whispering to the inquiring soul, it
becomes even a prophet to wrap his face in his mantle, and listen in reverential silence.
In endeavoring to find out a person's moral and
religious state, let your questions be kind and respectful-not too familiar, yet not too formal. It
is not necessary to know one's whole history at
the outset: some facts will discover themselves as
you go on. Ascertain what are his purposes with respect to religion. If he is undecided or dilatory,
bring him, if possible, to form a resolution. If you
cannot induce him to do this, you ought to show him
that such a refusal forbids his cherishing any hope
of salvation.
Urge him to forsake everything that is unfavorable
to serious self-inquiry, or to the operations of grace
and truth upon his heart. Find out what particular
sin keeps him from repentance, and insist on his
abandoning it immediately.
It is not enough that he convince you that he
would like to be saved; he should satisfy you that
he chooses to be saved, and to use the means of his
rescue. If he refuses the offer of eternal life, in that
very act he chooses to go on in sin, and God regards
this to be his decision. Every new neglect of the
Gospel invitation is set down in the records of eternity, as a fresh rejection of Christ. Wishes and
hopes are of less account than purposes and actions.
When the awakened sinner complains of doubt,
fear, and difficulty, he should understand that his
troubles arise from resisting the Holy Spilit. Re



INTERVIEWS WITH THE UNBELIEVER. 117
mind him that he is a free agent, and that his own
obstinacy and aversion of will is the great obstacle in
the way of his reconciliation.
When the sinner refuses to submit to the divine
will on the plea of insensibility, you should bring
him to look not at his feeli~ngs, but at his mnoral condition in the sight of God, and to perceive that his
contentment or unconcern does not lessen his guilt
and danger, nor his being on easy terms with himself cool God's anger towards him.
The inquirer should not at first occupy himself
with the question whether he is a child of God,
but whether he has a disposition to forsake everything in his heart or life which is opposed to the
divine law, and he should also be exhorted rather
to the immediate performance of duty than to direct
efforts to obtain ant assurance of pardon.  Most sinners are looking for the joy and peace which are the
results of submissions, before they submit. They desire an evidence that Christ has received them before they have given themselves to Him; at least
they are unwilling to repent and believe, and then
~wait for7 tokens of their acceptance.
It is possible to speak to the sinner with such an
air and tone as if you spoke by virtue of your own
authority, and as if he had offended you rather than
the Almighty. Yet, when the demands of God's law
are pressed upon his conscience by another, and the
sinner is troubled, we must not take sides with him
by apologizing for his sins, or by opening to him the
arms of a blind sympathy and fondness.
Do not burden the mind with too much talk, nor
distract it with too great a variety at once. Direct




118 INTERVIEWS WITH THE UNBELIEVER.
and discriminating addresses are to be preferred to
general and rambling remarks. Hence, as we before said, too many persons should not converse by
turns with the same individual.
Take care that when a serious impression has been
made, it be not marred or effaced by after-thoughts.
Cast not about you for forcible and memorable last
words. Rather look to the effect of what you are
saying, and then you will easily decide when to have
done.
Inquirers are prone to make a merit of prayer, repentance, reading the scriptures, going to church,
and the like; or this one places undue reliance on
man for guidance and relief, while that one in his
distress cannot rest anywhere, but like the unclean
spirit, wanders through dry places, seeking rest and
finding none, at the same time, perhaps, presuming
that God is pleased with his restlessness.  Such
should be convinced that the Saviour is the only
refuge and hope. Another flatters himself that he is
inz the way of obtaining a reconciliation, so long as
he is attentive to the means of grace. Perhaps his
friends have advised him to " wait at the pool of the
ordinances." 1Now, though the means of grace are
not to be spoken against, those inquirers who use
them contentedly, and trust in waiting and seeking,
will never obtain what they are professedly in quest
of; in fact, they are not much concerned whether
they do or not. They have taken this method of
amusing their souls, and soothing their convictions
of sin, and excusing themselves from immediate repentance. The sacred scriptures warrant no preparatory delays. Their language is, " Behold now is




INTERVIEWS WITH THE UNBELIEVER. 119
the accepted time; behold now is the day of salvation."
Some injudicious advisers endeavor to administer
comfort to the inquirer before he is prepared for it.
They heal the hurt slightly by healing it too soon.
It is dangerous to set ourselves to persuade him that
it is well with him, and that he has reason to be of
good cheer, before he has found the Redeemer. If
we proceed with such an one as if he were already
regenerated,'vwe run the risk of leading him to mistake fleeting emotions for renewed affections. The
Divine Spirit and the Oracles of God will, in sufficient time, work assurance and quietness. It is one
thing, however, to establish him in a blind confidence of his renewal, and quite another to strengthen
his trust and hope in the Lord Christ. We must, of
course, repeat the promises to the desponding. And
when a sinner complains that his moral probation is
at an end, that the Holy Spirit has forsaken him, or
that he has committed the unpardonable sin, then it
is high time to convince him that he misinterprets
his convictions; then he ought to know that if he
were deserted by the Holy Spirit, or smitten with
judicial blindness, he would in all likelihood be free
from anxiety with respect to his salvation.
It is especially desirable that the awakened sinner
be allowed time for secret communion with God and
his own heart. We must not at this stage of his experience keep his mind so fully occupied with public and social worship, or with hearing counsels and
exhortations, as to leave him no leisure for private
devotion.
In religious interviews we often have to encounter,




120 INTERVIEWS WITH THE UNBELIEVER.
at the outset, objections which betray bigotry, prejudice, or a superficial knowledge of religion. When
we are met with absurd or malicious charges against
some doctrine, practice, denomination, or ourselves,
it will be wise, in general, to waive, in a respectful
and good-humored manner, the consideration of all
objections, or yield to whatever force they may have,
and attempt no vindication of our character, or our
particular opinions, but proceed at once with a direct
application to the objector's conscience.  Sinners
often endeavor to keep clear of a searching exhortation, by tempting the exhorter to enter the lists with
them on some speculative question. Perhaps they
make their objections and difficulties an apology for
a continuance in sin, or resort to them in self-defence, or to make a display of their intellect. When
any one attacks a doctrine on the ground of its unreasonableness, at the same time admitting that it is
taught by the sacred scriptures, we do well to show
him that he mistakes the parties involved in the controversy; that he is impeaching divine wisdom and
goodness. We may adopt the language of the Apostle: "Nay, but oh man, who art thou that repliest
against God."
We should recommend to the inquiring sinner, not
merely God the Father, but especially "God in
Christ." The human mind, especially the unrenewed
mind, can form no very intelligible or attractive view
of the unembodied Jehovah; but it is more easily
brought into sympathy with the Lord Jesus Christthe incarnate God.  When the Divine Being took
upon himself human nature, he came nearer the sinner than he could otherwise have been brought by




INTERVIEWS WITH THE UNBELIEVER. 121
symbols and descriptions. Our blessed Master has
anticipated a work which would have been too hard
for any of his servants to perform. By appearing as
Immanuel, in a two-fold nature, by becoming " God
with us," he has, in some sense, returned from his
banishment, and re-enthroning Himself among his
revolted subjects, he offers a free and full pardon to
all who choose to return to loyalty. We are required
not to ascend into heaven to bring God down to earth,
but now that he has already come among us, to bring
sinners to his feet. Those who talk merely of one
uncreated Being inhabiting eternity, cannot bring
Him nearer the sinner than the third heaven. Whatever divinity they may bring him, in imagination, to
enthrone in hecaven, they leave him literally " without God in the world."
Nor should we fail to remind the sinner, that he
lives in the dispensation of the Holy Spirit, and that
he is resisting not only the calls of his own conscience, but the convictions wrought in his mind by
this Divine Person. When he pleads inability to
feel or act as he ought, let us tell him that the HIoly
Spirit is freely offered to them that ask His aid.' If
ye, being evil, know how to give good gifts unto
your children, how much more shall your heavenly
Father give the Holy Spirit to them that ask him."
From the evangelical doctrine of the Holy Spirit,
may be drawn motives at once the most admonitory
and the most encouraging-admonitory to him who
grieves, or resists, or blasphemes the Spirit —encouraging to him who is convinced of his native weakness, and is yielding to doubt, fear, or despair. We
should also speak of the connection of His offices
F




122 INTERVIEWS WITH THE UNBELIEVER.
with the work of atonement. To talk of the Saviour
without making mention of the regenerating Spirit,
were to leave the heavy-laden pilgrim in sight of the
Cross, without the help of the invisible Hand which
can unloose the burden from his shoulders.




CHAPTER  VI.
RELIGIOUS CONVERSATIONS WITH PREJUDICED PERSONS.
IT was a remarkable feature in the primitive
churches, that their polity, forms of worship, and
all their operations, were so simple as to create the
fewest possible prejudices against them, and to overcome many that already existed. All observation
teaches that the minds of men are more easily inflamed against some trifling peculiarities of an institution which is newly introduced,-peculiarities that
are opposed to the existing order of things,-than
against peculiarities of greater consequence, which
common minds are less competent judges of, and
which are not at war with their habits and customs.
In this view we see the wisdom of the Divine Founder of the church, in instituting no other ministry,
ordinances, and government, than were absolutely
necessary to her existence and enlargement in the
first and every succeeding age.  The absence of
rituals, liturgies, and all appendages of art, left her
at liberty to adapt herself in non-essentials to the
customs of the people among whom she should be
introduced. Had all her externals been at first unalterably fixed, they could not have been admitted
along with her into the various nations of the earth




124     RELIGIOUS CONVERSATIONS
without the greatest opposition; or if not opposition,
without a resort to artifice. And it deserves to be
deeply graven on our minds, that all unalterable
forms and ceremonials that are innovations on apostolic simplicity, are not only calculated to foster
hypocrisy in those who practise them, but also
double-dealing in those who would make proselytes
to them.
But what connection have these remarks with the
subject under consideration a? Unless we are greatly
mistaken, they show the importance of believing and
practising, as essential parts of our religion, only what
is taught by the Bible, in order to prevent or overcome
those prejudices which would hinder the hearty reception of the gospel. lie who is wedded to a particular
ritual, impresses the commonalty with the notion that
he believes these to be necessary parts of the Christian religion. Being first stumbled at these extraneous rites, they are prepared to stumble again at the
all-important doctrines which are connected with,
and consequently confounded with them. The same
holds true of those who advocate strange, fanciful,
or superstitious tenets respecting any of the mysteries of the gospel.  The Christian, therefore, who
is intent upon the salvation of sinners, should, in
his conversations with them, keep aloof from his
own peculiar views, his speculative questions in
theology, and all his opinions respecting religion,
that are not clearly warranted by the word of God.
Such a course will keep him clear of a great deal
of fruitless contention about inferior matters: it will
also save him from incurring the guilt of allowing
his own speculations to take the precedency of sav



WITH  PREJUDICED  PERSONS.    125
ing knowledge, and of amusing with trifles those
who ought to be striving to secure the grace of immortality.
These precautions should be observed by those
who would be well prepared to meet the hostile
feelings that are arrayed against true religion. And
our success in managing them will depend quite as
much on our known character and creed, as on our
wisdom  and address.  Some suppose that prejudices cannot be overcome by mere direct argument.
Swift observes, "reasoning will never make a man
correct an ill opinion, which by reasoning he never
acquired." This opinion of Swift is not quite conclusive. Would it be fair to argue in what seems
an equivalent fashion: "MlIedicine cannot expel a
disease that was never contracted by the use of
medicine "?s   Men nlay, and frequently do, relinquish prejudices, formed and cherished because they
never reasoned, and relinquished them as soon as
they began to do so. On the other hand, we are not
to suppose, because a prejudice has been formed by
education, habit, interest, or affection, and admitted
without examination, that it is therefore erroneous or
pernicious. It may safely be averred that the prejudices of the generality in Christian countries are on
the side of the gospel; a circumstance which gives
the advocates of evangelical principles a great advantage.  But though the prepossessions of those
with whom we converse ae perhaps in favor of the
Christian religion as a general system, they may
nevertheless be opposed to the specific doctrine we
wish to advance, if not to every distinguishing principle of our religion, when it is separately offered to




126      RELIGIOUS CONVERSATIONS
their consideration. With a view to reconcile these
and other prejudiced persons to evangelical doctrines and duties, it may be proper to adopt one or
more of the following expedients:
It is in some cases advisable to leave undisturbed
prejudices that are hurtful, for the purpose of more
easily inculcating those truths which will eventually
remove them. Our Lord and his apostles found the
world strongly intrenched in errors and abuses, and
instead of directly assaulting their muniments, they
wisely drew them out of them, as the hosts of Israel
by a retreat led the defenders of Gibeah without the
walls, and then set the city on fire. When we meet
with a person who belongs to a heretical sect, we
should not stigmatize him with reproachful epithets,
nor assail his whole creed, but, passing by his peculiar opinions, meet him as a Christian on common
ground, and then bring him to admit that which, if
admitted, will disarm, if not destroy, his prejudices.
When our opponent venerates some great human authority, we should not, in all cases, stay to call it in
question, but respectfully taking leave of characters
and leaders, we should conduct him to the divine
testimonies, and convince him that his positions are
unsound: this done, his revered master will be forsaken of course. When the person expresses strong
predilections for particular phrases or formulas,
which we cannot prevail on him to disuse, we
should endeavor to settle iim in just notions of the
doctrine which he misnames. We should choose to
leave men in quiet possession of their party names
and shibboleths, rather than expose them to the shipwreck of their best hopes, while they are driven from




WITHI PREJUDICED  PERSONS.    127
the truth in the obstinate defence of a word. The
mass of mankind will sooner resign things than
names; and some may be found in almost every
sect or party, who, though they were long ago convinced of the heterodoxy of some part of its creed,
choose still to cleave to its fellowship and its forms.
We may sometimes bring people to abandon a
prejudice by engaging their thoughts with a virtue
which is the antagonist of the vice which first warped
the judgment, or by leading them from a trifling subject to one of importance, as from a speculative to a
practical question: above all, from a question which
genders strife to one which pacifies and liberalizes
the mind. Once lured out of the sterile pass for
which they are contending, up to some eminence
whence they call behold broad and fruitful fields,
they will blush for their folly in wasting their noble
energies on mere futilities. An effort of the kind is
the more laudable inasmuch as it aims at goodness
of heart and devotedness of life, and not merely at
soundness of faith.
A person can be led slowly, gently, and circuitously, to receive those truths which, if they were
directly pressed upon his mind, he would sturdily
stand out against. It were judicious, therefore, to
unfold the truth to one strongly set against it by
slow degrees, observing its effects upon him, dropping
the subject before it begins to call out opposition,
and adverting to the subject at intervals, when the
person is in a calm and yielding mood.
When a person of winning wisdom perceives that
the one to be conciliated dislikes every kind of opposition, and that his delusion proceeds more from




128     RELIGIOUS CONVERSATIONS
ignorance than obstinacy, he will avoid open disputation, and set himself to explain and recommend the
doctrines to which he would gain proselytes. He
will attend to the counsel Paul gave to Timothy, when
he directed him not to strive, but in meekness to instruct those that oppose themselves. By using the
expository and didactic, rather than the controversial
tone, he will prevent, or at least allay, irritated feelings-cause those who no longer see themselves attacked, to desist from opposition, and, by enlightening their minds, bring them to yield up what, for
lack of knowledge, they before maintained. Yet he
will not instruct in a dictatorial or upbraiding manner, but humbly and submissively, not pretending to
superior abilities, but showing a deference for the
judgment of others. In stating facts and quoting,
he will presume not so much to inform his opponent
as to remind him of things he is already supposed to
know. He will pass over in silence, or touch lightly
on the objections made to his own faith, and when
forced to say anything on the doctrines of his opponent, he will not always formally confute his aryuments, but will chiefly reason against the system
those arguments were framed to support; for he
knows that his opponent will allow him to attack his
faith as a mass in preference to his method of defending it. In this way he will, perhaps, convince
his erring friend without exposing him to the mortification of feeling himself to be confuted; and instead of laboring to show him how far he is from the
truth, he will furnish him with the facts and arguments by the help of which he will be able to arrive
at the truth for himself.




WITH PREJUDICED PERSONS.    129
It is another useful rule, to avail ourselves of a
prejudice or erroneous opinion of another, in order
to convince him of a truth by reasoning with him on
his own principles.  It was in this method that
Christ and his apostles argued with the Jews by
citing their own sacred books, and that Paul especially, reasoned with the Greeks by quoting their
own poet, and reminding them of their habitual worship of divinities. It is one of Lord Bacon's maxims
that " Nature call be controlled only by submitting
to her laws;112 and this is true, not only of the material world in general, but of human nature in particular. Accoldingly, we may use for illustration
popular opinions, which, though they are wholly or
in part without foundation in reason, commend us to
the hearing of common minds; Christ did so when
he spoke of the unclean spirit going out of a man
and wandering in dry places. We may also use
their own venerated names to contradict them; and
when they oppose us with quotations, silence them,
if needs be, by quoting their own authorities more
fully and fairly than they have done. We should
not always make use of such arguments as are of
most weight with ourselves, but such as will be most
convincing to the persons we address, careful, however, ever to use those only which are sound.
When any one harbors a prejudice against our religion which comes of a dislike for the behavior of
some of its professors, we shall best dislodge it by
carefully avoiding the behavior of which he complains, and especially by studying to win his affection antd respect by uniform  kindness, and when
12 ", Naturce non imperatur nisi parendo." —Nov. Orfg.




130     RELIGIOUS CONVERSATIONS
there is occasion for it, by acts of generosity and
self-devotion; taking care to inspire him with a
gratitude which is not chilled by a sense of dependence upon or of obligation to us. We do well to
postpone all applications to his sense of duty, till we
have gained his confidence and regard, when, perhaps, the warmth of friendship may have already
melted his hardness not only towards the doctrines of
the Gospel, but also towards its professors.
When a prejudice stands directly in the way of
the furtherance of the truth, we must neither overlook nor humor it. There are prepossessions which
defy all the milder arts of reasoning to manage them.
By whatever avenue we approach them, they come
forth to meet us. Prejudices of this class are chiefly
those which have their source in the corruption and
perversity of the heart, and are fostered by earthly
interests. Nothing short of a powerful appeal to the
understanding and the conscience can put them to
flight. The biased person must be brought to distinguish between the suggestions of a corrupt heart
and the dictates of conscience, the calls of present
interest and the claims of moral obligation, the au.
thority of human opinion and the command of Goc
And besides being brought to make a difference between these opposite principles, he should be persuaded to forswear the sway of the former and submit to the dominion of the latter. WVe must not,
however, charge him with prejudice in plain terms.
He will hardly be made to believe himself capable
of a weakness that is so dishonorable to his mind;
and if he were convinced of it he would be reluctant
to confess it. He will not be likely to part with it




WITH PREJUDICED  PERSONS.    131
the sooner for our having cast it in his teeth. Little
is ever gained by making bare assertions, however
true, that are not believed by the hearers, or of accusing a person of sins before his conscience is prepared to upbraid him with them.
And it is worth remarking upon this whole subject, that these prudential rules will be of little use
to those who do not bring to the task a sweet and
benignant temper. An exacting, dogmatical, or
scornful carriage towards the erring, is apt to drive
them only the more deeply into darkness and corruption; whereas the expression of a kind and complacent spirit, though it should not be directed by
common prudence, will draw them out of the toils of
Satan sooner than great prudence if it be not softened and cheered by such a spirit.'3:s See " Principles of Courtesy," —last Chapter.




CHAPTER VIII.
DISCUSSIONS.
Dr. Jomnsow being asked by a friend whether there
had been any conversation at a party from which
he had just come, replied, "No, sir; we had talk
enough but no coznversation; there was nothing discussed." It was his opinion that the agitation of a
subject with a view to elicit truth is alone worthy
the name of conversation. Present usage, however,
pays little deference to the great moralist and lexicographer, and throws the charitable mantle of
the word over even the senseless gabble of triflers
and dullards; nay, the most hideous monsters that
ever human lips gave birth to. Still, it must be
granted that discussion, in its strict sense, is one of
the noblest and most useful parts of conversation.
The utterances of this Grand Khan of literature, and,
for thirty years colloquial dictator in the literary circles of London, as reported by his numerous friends,
are mainly of this nature. And he would have set
us a good pattern in this kind, had his reason always
kept the ascendency of his prejudices; had he oftener
taken the side of truth and piety; and had he habitually observed that gentleness of speech which he so
well understood and knew how to prize in others.




DISCUSSIONS.                133
There are many important questions which a sociable group might be well employed in debating.
Yet the usual mode of conducting private discussions
is not calculated to afford a great deal of improvement. And the fault lies less in the questions themselves than in the manner of treating them. The
bulk of people fancy that instinct teaches them the
best method of reasoning, and they enter the lists
presuming that nature has armed them at all points,
and given them skill sufficient to meet all comers.
This delusion, which self-partiality seems to maintain,
has kept not a few men from giving due attention to
the art of reasoning in the conversazione. Trusting
to the native merits of the questions discussed, they
have not enough considered the best mode of managing them; or engrossing their attention with the
unguarded points of the foe, they have overlooked
their own. Many a controversy, both in public and
private, has been needlessly prolonged by the faults
of the disputants themselves. They would fain believe that to have truth on their side, and to support
it by sound arguments, are enough to secure a speedy
triumph.  But they too often deceive themselves.
The fact is, that truth is full as much beholden to the
disposition and deportment 9f her advocates as to
the soundness of their arguments. Those who go
forth into the field of controversy invoking the aid
of the furies, provoke their antagonists to call on the
same goddesses, while the graces stand aloof to weep
over the defeat of the cause to which they could have
given the victory.
In colloquial discussions, and in all others indeed,
our success or failure will depend not a little on our




134             DISCUSSIONS.
character and life. We cannot hope to convert to
our principles those who inwardly despise our practice; on the contrary, a consistent Christian life will
give a weight to our arguments which nothing else can.
Besides taking care to form a good general character, we should endeavor to enter the lists open to
conviction. This will greatly aid us in the search
after truth, and prepare our opponents to receive it
when found. They will ever carry a shield as broad
as our own; if we show by our tone and air that
we do not expect to hear from them anything new,
unanswerable, or convincing, we shall only raise
the same spirit in them.
We should also conduct our part of the discussion
with perfect candor and fairness.  For though a
resort to quibbles and tricks will now and then give
us a momentary advantage, it generally results in
a permanent injury to ourselves and to our cause.
The world is slow to believe that truth can be at all
related to mean artifice. We must likewise drive
from our hearts bigotry and party spirit, being ever
more zealous for gospel truth than for our articles of
faith, or for our particular tenets. Whoever calmly
watches the motions of his own spirit, will often be
mortified to find that his earnestness in the defence
of any point proceeds almost as much from a fondness for his own opinions as from a zeal for the
truth.  We never lose anything by conceding to
our opponent the merit of sincerity and ability; at
any rate we should argue with him on the supposition that he is not deficient in either. Nor should
we be quick to discern any immaterial defects in
our opponent or his argument.  Since those who




DISCUSSIONS.                 135
enter the lists with us are ever supposed to be our
equals, if we succeed in lessening their reputation,
we also, in an equal degree, diminish our own.
Let us not, at the same time, affect that large
charity which overlooks essential defects in religious
opinions, and discovers a peculiar excellence in each
sect which throws its errors quite into the shade.
For one, nothing could induce me to adore those pictures of the Virgin Mi[ary which represent her sheltering beneath her enormous cloak, popes, harlots,
monks, nuns, thieves, murderers, and what not. Nor
could I ever highly value the favors of that liberality
which call enclose the motley crowd in her large
embrace, and whose eyes are so dim as to mistake
all for her favorites. Such sentiments are commonly held by those who are equally indifferent to all
religions. If our opponent is a man of sense, he
must respect us for having a definite belief, and for
a sincere and intelligent adherence to it. We shall
forfeit his respect by excusing ourselves from the
discussion of a subject which he considers important,
on the plea that it is unessential or insignificant. He
will be apt to understand such an excuse as an intimation that we can at once perceive the trivialness
of the subject on which he is expending so much
fruitless effort. To recoil from the question with
affected disdain, is sure to make him  suspect either
our sincerity or our judgment.
We ought surely to cultivate the charity that
thinketh no evil, but we should beware of boasting
of our charity to our opponent in religious debate.
Paul says that this virtue "vaunteth not itself."
When our charity has been put to the test, then it




136             DISC'USSIONS.
will best appear to what degree we are swayed by
its power. How often do we hear language like
the following: " For my part I think all denominations should love one another, overlook one another's
faults, and respect one another's conscientious differences.  I love all Christians - but I cannot bear
those who style their own denomination tfhe church,
and those who exclude from the Lord's Supper all
who do not agree with them in faith and practice.
Neither do I like those who are forever contending
for their sectarian tenets. I hate those who claim
for their own sect the most scriptural creed." These
generous persons do not stay to think that there can
be no pretension more extravagant than that of
having reached the perfection of charity-that coy
grace which the most advanced Christian confesses
that he has not yet overtaken. They also fail to
reflect that in holding up to detestation the uncharitableness of others, they do but the more proclaim
their own.  And if, as not often happens, these
praisers of charity can be consistent with themselves
while they are in company, they are sure, in private,
to show that there is as much of the gall of bitterness in their composition, as there before appeared
to be of the milk of human kindness. They advocate the cause of charity that they may be thought
to be blessed with a large share of this virtue, when
in truth they are in beggerly want of it, and their
conduct calls for the protection of its cloak; but
this is a delicate subject to handle, and we leave it,
lest we betray this vice in the very attempt to describe it.
After inquiring whether we ourselves have proper




DISCUSSIONS.                 137
qualifications for the discussion of a question, we
should consider the character of our opponent or
respondent. We should not consent to enter into a
debate with one who is ignorant of the question, or
an unskilful reasoner, preoccupied or volatile-who
is very inferior to us in ability or attainments; for
as we must begin with the advantage, our victory
might be thought to be owing more to the weakness
of our adversary than the merits of our cause; and
should we be worsted by such a person, it would be
discreditable either to the truth or ourselves, perhaps to both-who is proud, overbearing, or frequently interrupts us, or tries to silence us by clamor
or laughter —who usually begins by boasting of his
familiarity with the whole question-who talks to
show to bystanders his knowledge, his argumentative skill, or his volubility-who is positive, tenacious of his own opinions, or never retires before the
most powerful onsets of argument-who has a hasty
or an irritable temper, is easily insulted, or is accustomed to put wrong constructions on the remarks of
another-who is accustomed to quibble, whiffle, or
wander from the question-who uses sophistry when
sound reasoning fails, and resorts to anything for
self defence —who aims to be witty, and deals in
jibes, jokes, and puns —who betrays an irreverence
for the sacred scriptures, allows little or no weight
to their testimony, and garbles and wrests themwho, when silenced, conceals his defeat by accusing
us of trifling with sacred things, shocking his moral
sensibilities, at the same time shrugging his shoulders, crossing himself, and stopping his ears against
what he calls blasphemies-who is unwilling to al



138             DISCUSSIONS.
low another to finish his remarks, but endeavors to
engross the time himself, and listens with impatience
to our arguments. Yet whenever we are unwittingly drawn into a debate with any one of the character
just mentioned, we should retire from it in good
humor, without airs of disdain, or words of reproach.
" But," it will be said, " if I must not debate with
persons of this description, I cannot debate with
any; for where is the arguer who has not one or
more of the faults you mention?"  In reply, we
admit that it is not in itself morally wrong to enter
the lists with such people; often quite the contrary:
remember, however, that if you betray any of these
faults, you have no right to complain when your
opponent faces about and leaves the field without
asking quarter.
It is perhaps worth while here to inquire whether
women may properly take part in conversational
discussions. Some women uniformily excuse themselves fiom arguing, and some men studiously keep
aloof from controversial topics in talking with them.
It appears, however, that our Lord considered it
becoming to discuss at least religiozus questions with
themn. His interviews with the woman of Syrophenecia and with the Samaritaness, recognize their
right to take part in an argument. He would not,
it is certain, encourage a contentious spirit in them
any more than in man. The deference and subjection to their husbands -which the apostles require
of them, do not accord with a controversial tone.
Nothing is more unseemly than the conduct of those
women who enter the noisy arena of political and
theological combat, presenting a spectacle not unlike




D ISCUSSIONS.               139
that which was anciently witnessed in the Island of
Mona, where women fought in defence of Druidical
rites, by the side of the priests. Should Christianity
number no more defenders than idolatry had on
that occasion, it would be heroism for them to show
an equal zeal in its behalf: but as our faith is likely
to have many pugnacious defenders for a good while
to come, it is their part to seek, by a calm and conciliatory behavior, to assauge polemical fierceness
and tumult.  This they may do, and often have
done, by acting as mediators in angry debates, by
kindly intimating the best manner of unravelling
knotty questions, and by setting a pattern of the
spirit in which a rude opponent ought to be treated. In moral gifts for argumentation they are manifestly superior to men.  Their peculiar patience
and delicate regard for the feelings of others, often
greatly assist in the settlement of questions which
take a strong hold on human passions and interests.
They are, equally with men, obligated to cultivate
the reasoning powers, and it is their duty occasionally to take part in discussions. Still they have a
higher office in relation to the truth than that of
mere debaters, incessantly harping on some vexed
point, and regularly disputing every assertion that
one happens to make. It is theirs to allow their
greater kindness, their holier conscience, and their
nicer intuition of the becoming, to speak in the ear
of the misguided wrangler, and to aid in the disposal of questions in which these feelings are often
more efficient than argument. It is theirs to utter
divine oracles, which are meditated in the sequestered retreats of home, remote from  the blinding




140              DISCUSSIONS.
passions and loud contentions of the outer world.
It was when Belshazzar and his nobles, and his astrologers, and his soothsayers were all confounded
and dismayed by the writing on the wall, that the
queen came to the relief of their despair, and made
honorable mention of Daniel as one who could interpret the appalling words. Even the dream of Pilate's wife, as she was slumbering in a retired apartment of the palace, dictated more of reason and
more of justice than were to be found in the deliberations of Pilate, Annas, Caiaphas, the chief priests,
Pharisees, lawyers, and the undistinguished mob.
The gentle sex do, and ought to, despise those
men who disown their reasoning faculties, whenever they talk with them. Let not gentlemen think
that ladies are soft in thought because they are
soft in behavior and tone.  It is no compliment
to them to affect their effeminacy. Let gentlemen
consider that the natural strength and roughness of
their sex ought to appear in their thoughts, style,
and voice.  Your pretty fop is ever telling the
ladies that lie cannot differ from them; it will go
hard but he will be of their opinion. If he ever
dissents from an assertion, it is contrary to one to
which he gave his assent a little while ago. He regrets that he cannot possibly contradict himself, otherwise he would never be so rude as to except in the
slightest degree to madam's proposition. B3y-the-bye,
he needs but to talk two minutes longer to retract
his first opinion, and agree with madam most cordially and absolutely.  I-Ie cringes and bows at
every word she speaks; he would not be positive,
not even about his personal identity, if any lady




D ISCUSSIONS.               141
should deny it. Like Launce, he would say, " I am
the dog-no, the dog is myself; and I am the dog
— oh, the dog is me, and I am myself-ay, so, so."
With respect to the subjects of discussion, four important cautions are to be heeded:
1. Never discuss trivial and insignificant questions. It is, to be sure, not always easy to decide
what are such, since many questions which, at first
thought, appear paltry, are found upon a closer examination to be very important. We are permitted,
in colloquy, to treat questions less grave than would
become a public controversy.
2. Do not often make principal doctrines and precepts, and admitted duties, matters of dispute. The
habit leads us first to question, and then to disbelieve
the weightiest testimony, and to a systematic disobedience of known commandments. It brings on scepticism, if indeed it be not an indication that it has
already gained some footing in the mind. " lie that
is too busy in the foundations of a house," says Sir
Philip Sidney, " may pull down the whole building
about his ears."
3. Avoid speculative questions, that is, such as if
decided would serve no practical purpose. Disputes
concerning the Millennium, and others of the kind,
seldom administer to our improvement.
4. Let not incomprehensible and mysterious truths
be made subjects of inquiry. There are some parts
of divine revelation which, though evidently not contrary to reason, are out of its province. Controversies as to the mode of the Divine existence in the
Trinity, and as to the reconciliation of the purposes




142             DISCUSSIONS.
of God with the free agency of man, may be referred
to this class.
By the agitation of such questions little has been
or can be gained for our temper, our information, or
for the furtherance of Christian truth. The most pernicious questions are those which belong to the first
class and to the last-the first, because as the history
of all controversies attests, contentions are bitter in
proportion to their unimportance-the last, because it
is impossible to tell where those controversies will
end, which begin without proof, just as those wars
are apt to be long which have no definite object; for
it is altogether uncertain what will purchase a peace.
Discussers should begin by ascertaining whether
they can agree on some fundamental principle, or on
any conditions as to the kind of testimony to be admitted; as whether the sacred scriptures, or the
writings of the fathers, or decrees of councils, or tradition, are to be allowed as proof.
When they have agreed to take some common
ground, let them inquire how near they can approach
each other. Let them lessen the distance between
them by mutual concession, ascertaining the points
of agreement rather than of difference. They should
not suppose, because they differ on one point, they
must needs differ upon all. Those who are ignorant
of one another's opinions, generally suppose themselves to disagree far more widely than they do in
reality.
As another preliminary, the meaning to be attached to the words and phrases used should be settled between the opponent and respondent. Doubtful or ambiguous words or terms should be defined




DISCtUSSIONS.              143
or rejected. In many cases, where the meaning of
the question is determined and understood, little, if
anything, will remain to be done. Whereas those
who hastily enter upon the discussion of a question
which they do not understand, each perhaps inwardly
blessing his own superior acumen, and emulous of
victory, after having exhausted breath and argument
conclude to go back to ascertain the meaning of the
question, and find, to their inexpressible mortification, that they have been engaged in a mere logomachy-not a moral, but a verbal contest, that some
ambiguous word, viewed from different points, was
the sole cause of so much strife.
Besides settling the signification of words and
phrases, the exact point of inquiry should be fixed.
It should be mutually understood whether the question is to be discussed in a limited or a general sense;
and when the question is qualified, there should be
a strict and honorable adherence to it. A neglect to
define positions occasions confusion and ill-will.
Some who leave the original ground and retreat to a
different question, resort to this method of showing
their inability to defend their post and of begging a
truce.
He who takes a side which he at length finds not
to be tenable, should frankly confess his inability to
maintain it. Let him not think it an exposure of his
own weakness; it will be received as the indication
both of his candor and of his discrimination. If he
still persists in arguing a question which the company deem settled, he exposes himself to the imputation either of disingenuousness or of obtuseness. He
who Ean cheerfully and unreservedly own himself




144             DISCUSSIONS.
confuted, has won a more glorious victory than his
confuter.
There is nothing helps to confirm men in errors
like the fear that the renunciation of them will be
received with upbraidings by their own party, and
with exultation by the opposite party. Were the e-rring
kindly and respectfully welcomed back to truth, they
would oftener return. Where there is a whole party
ready to break out into a contemptuous laugh at one's
recantation, he is strongly tempted to withhold it.
We should conquer without seeming to do so, and account it enough that the opponent feels, without confessing, his defeat; but rather divert him from it by
passing to another subject even though it should be
less important. When Augustus, king of Poland,
was brought into the tent of Charles XII., of Sweden,
who had just deprived him of his crown, Charles
turned the conversation wholly on his jack-boots,
telling Augustus that he had not laid them aside for
six years, except when he went to bed. Let this incident teach the victorious debater how to save his
vanquished opponent from needless mortification.
Carneades is said to have resolved never to defend
what he could not prove, nor attack what he could
not overthrow-a wise resolution, but more applicable to public than private discussions. In a circle
of friends where we ought to make it our aim to examine and correct our opinions, we are at liberty to
put forth and defend a principle which we have but
superficially examined, and on which we wish the
views of others, that we may have their help in settling our minds in just conclusions.
Almost any other species of trifling is more allow



D IS C U SSIONS.           145
able than that of discussing trite and useless questions. As we have already remarked, there is in
conversation a strong inducement to commit this
folly, inasmuch as it is understood that many subjects may be handled here which would not be dignified enough for other occasions, and that the mind
may here abandon itself to its lighter movements.
Nevertheless, a wise man will take care how he
warmly espouses what it would be as ignominious
to contend for as to lose. Grecian fable tells us that
when Hercules went down into the lower world, the
shade of Medusa confronted him; he was about to
draw his sword upon her, when 3Mercury reminded
him that she was a mere phantom; ivhereupon he
returned his sword to its scabbard. Even Hercules
had no strength to waste on a shadow.
But when a detrimental opinion, though absurd
and trivial in itself, is likely to gain currency from
the earnestness and pretension of its advocates, it
then becomes our duty to set it in a proper light.
The champion of infidelity and the vilifier of virtue may, when his own character is considered, be
too contemptible to deserve notice; but when he is
evidently corrupting the minds of the ignorant and
unsuspecting, he ought to be withstood and rebuked.
In silencing such persons we must proceed according
to the lights and shades of circumstances. Solomon
points out both the Scylla and the Charybdis of which
he would have us steer clear. On the one hand we
have, " Answer a fool according to his folly, lest he be
wise in his own conceit:" on the other, " Answer not a
fool according to his folly, lest thou be like unto him."
The first direction is applicable to cases where the
G




146             DISCUSSIONS
pride or vanity of an irreligious person calls aloud
for rebuke. If he is impudent and rude, we are to
treat him with severity; if positive, we must be
equally positive, and not be tender of the feelings of
one who is destitute of the sensibilities of the human
kind. By a satirical imitation of his own language,
we are to show him to himself as in a mirror; by
copying his air, tone, or mode of reasoning, we are to
make him ashamed for his corruption and shallowness. By the second direction we are to understand
that it is not our duty to correct an ungodly or an
immoral person in his own language when it is profane or obscene, or to reply at all when his speech or
behavior is of a description to render him undeserving of the intercourse of his species, or when a reply
would be a self-degradation or an infringement of
Christian gravity. How far we may go in reply is
shown in the well-known story which is told about
the salutations that passed between Dr. Barrow and
Lord Rochester.
To make this nice point more clear, we remark,
that the two precepts are to be reconciled thus: within limits, meet a man on his own ground; beyond,
stir not a foot to follow him. These limits are to be
found —first, in the topic, and secondly, in the tone
and state of mirnd. They may be illustrated by our
Lord's dealing with cavillers of his own nation. He
gave them the miracles they needed-miracles various, wondrous and numerous; but he refused the
miracles, sneeringly and captiously asked. He had
given them John the Baptist to mourn and had sent
apostles to pipe. They heeded neither. Hie would
not, therefore, fiddle to scepticism and profligacy,




DISCUSSIONS.                  147
and hence he wrought no miracles when brought before JI4erod and Pilate.
There is in the world many a group of persons confidently contending about matters of which all are
wofully ignorant, darkening  counsel with words
without knowledge, or speaking evil of things they
understand not.   The least-informed persons pronounce on the subject with "a fiightful degree of
certainty," as lFontenelle would phrase it, and each
is talkative on great afiairs in pretty exact proportion to his ignorance of them.  Let a man of inforination enter the crowd, and his presence soon brings
them  to a pause.  "I have heard," says Jeremy
Taylor, "' that all the noise and pratings of the pool,
the croaking of fr'ogs and toads, is hushed and appeased upon the instant of bringing upon them  the
light of a candle or torch."  Jefferson says, that in
the Provincial Congress neither WVashington nor
Franklin spoke until the debate was well-nigh ended;
then but for ten minutes, and only on the main points.
It was John Somers' brief speech at the trial of the
seven bishops, that fixed his high character as a
lawyer.  HIowbeit, these are better parliamentary
than conversational examples.  WVhoever, in colloquial debates, is addicted to enlightening the ignoranlce of the talkers, or nnasked, to taking upon himself
to decide every question, instead of rising to eminence in esteem of the company, may some day find'
hilnselfsprawling on the floor, and hear the bystanders
whollm  he asks to call in the police, cjuoting to him'
"There are a sort of men whose visages
Do cream and mantle like a standing pond,
And do a willful stillness entertain,




148              DISCUSSIONS.
With purpose to be dress'd in an opinion
Of wisdom, gravity, profound conceit;
As who would say,' I am Sir Oracle,
And when I ope my lips, let no dog bark.'"
A man of prudence does not hastily determine the
merits of a question, or speak on it in a dogmatic
tone. By keeping close a half-formed opinion, he is
at liberty, on further deliberation, to alter it before a
final and avowed decision. He does not crave the
responsibility of propagating immature notions, nor
the honor of retracting them.
Let your debates be marked by good humor and
calmness.  If you do not allow your mind to be
ruffled when you are overcome in a discussion, you
will keep yourself from being in all respects a vanquished man. It is a too common practice for debaters to aimn at throwing each other off their guard,
by provoking their resentment.  This is Cain-like.
}He who would give his arguments weight with his
opponents, and bring them over to his own principles,
will endeavor to conciliate their good-will, and preserve, as far as he can, the serenity of their minds;
for he knows that if their anger is roused, they are
incapable of weighing his arguments. To attain this
end he should be their friend, and persuade them to
embrace his views, not for his benefit but for their
own. When will the generality of men learn that
there is a difference between a moral and a martial
combat-that in the former, men meet as friends, in
the latter, as enemies-that the proper object of the
one is to discover truth, and that of the other to redress wrongs. And when will they learn that the




DISCUSSIONS.                149
weapons that prevail in the one are powerless in the
other?
Seldom allude to denominations, sects, and theological schools, and their founders, but confine your
citations to doctrines and principles. Speak not of
men but of opinions, not of names but of things.
We are aware that to follow this rule is often difficult, and sometimes inexpedient. Could debaters,
like the mythical nymph Echo, be changed into a
mere voice, and dispute unseen, they might easily
keep aloof from personalities. But as passion is often
mistaken for reason, and the larger share of what
pass for principles, are nothing other than prejudices, it is very often hard to keep characters and
creeds apart. It should be our care not to use the
phrases or the technical terms which characterize
sects or denominations, and not to charge with heresy
or impiety all who do not choose to employ the same
phraseology. When we are driven to mention names,
we do well to cite those of the individuals who first
broached the doctrines in question. This will not
often offend our opponents, for the generality of men
are very ready to disown those to whom they are indebted for their creed. If we impugn a denomination, our opponent may appeal to its numbers, learning, or piety, and we shall provoke his brethren to
come to his support, then the colloquy will become
like a " faction fight" in an Irish fair, where all the
men of the family name must take up the bludgeon.
The most of us are exceedingly tenacious of those
opinions, agreeably to which we have long shaped
our conduct. In taking ground against us, our opponents have need of great delicacy and prudence,




150              DISSUSSIONS.
for we consider every attempt to confute us but an
attempt to prove that our conduct has been hurtful
or unwise; in a word, we are apt to mistake an argument for a rebuke.  HIence, in persuading us to
change our views, they must not brand our former
tenets with vice or folly. After they have won us
over to their side, we shall be able to examine the
tendency of our former doctrines more impartially.
When a person is supporting one article of a creed,
we are to beware of accusing him of receiving all
the other articles of it.  Perhaps he prefers it in
general to any other, and at the same time indignantly disclaims certain articles, or at least certain
constructions of them. And when a person broaches
a sceptical sentiment, we must not, without due
cause, suspect we have before us a monster of the
French or German schools of atheism, who cordially
accepts all the blasphemies of those schools. Alen
should not be held responsible for the consequences of
their tenets, when they disavow those consequences.
But in reasoning, we have a right to show how one
tenet hangs by and draws on another.
After our best endeavors to bring others over to
our side, we must not wonder how they can differ
from us still.  We ought to reflect that our own
views are as widely at variance with those we once
held, as theirs now are with our present opinions,
and that future years may greatly modify even
these.
An over-earnest defence has harmed many a
worthy cause.  The common world has thought it
must have been a weak point that called for the
presence of so strong a guard. Those who are most




DISCUSSIONS.                    151
solidly grounded in their own principles, may often
quietly re-examine them, but they very seldom challenge a discussion of them; while those whose faith
is not settled on a rock, are in the habit of calling
out to every person to come and behold the solidity
of their foundation. Still, however, it is one thing to
be often called to defend our principles, and a very
different thing to be continually challenging others
to attack them.
The vital doctrines of the gospel afford the least
matter for contention because they are simple and
practical. Like air and water they are as transparent
as they are useful. It is when the practical truths of
revelation-and all are such-are turned into speculations, and treated metaphysically, that they become
subjects of unending strife.  Every body remembers
Milton's description of the lost spirits engaged in
theological disputation.
"Others apart sat on a hill retir'd,
In thoughts more elevate, and reasoned high
Of providence, foreknowledge, will and fate,
Fixed fate, free will, foreknowledge absolute,
And found no end, in wandering mazes lost."
The poet thought, with great truth, that these
questions, as the disobedient understand them, will
never, even in the light of eternity, be satisfactorily
settled. The truths of scripture were revealed to
men not to metaphysicians. They are therein set
forth not as they are abstractly, but as all fallen mortals can and ought to view them-practically. These
truths have to do with their character, duties, hopes,
fears, temporal and eternal welfare. Scarcely any




152             DISCUSSIONS.
mystery is so obscure that all the faithful, how widely soever they divide on their theoretical opinions
respecting it, could not agree as to the lessons and
duties it should suggest. When will outcast man
believe that the tree of forbidden knowledge is
kept by a guard of cherubim, and no longer blind
his curious eyes by too near a view of their flashing
weapons, but be content to catch distant glimpses of
the inaccessible fruit, and to believe in Him, whose
incarnation is a mystery which shall solve all others,
and move the celestial guard to sheathe their swords,
and open again the gates of Eden.
Paltry questions sometimes rise into importance
in the eyes of the unthinking, from the earnestness
with which they are opposed. The din of contention which was at first heard only among the learned
few, at length reaches the ears of the unlettered
many, who swell it into the voice of the stormy Atlantic. Either oppose unimportant questions with
moderation, or pass them in silence.
In contesting a point about which your opponent
shows great feeling, suppress your ardor, if you
would enlist bystanders on your side. Your cool
manner will command their feelings, and seeing
you laboring to suppress your emotions, and giving
a plain and unexaggerated view of the subject, they
will render you double for all the feeling you have
withheld, and fully supply in their own minds the
deficiences of your representation.
Generously concede to your opponent all the virtues, talents, and attainments he can claim.  Dr.
Johnson was opposed to treating an opponent with
respect, alleging that as the generality of men can



DISCUSSIONS.                153
not judge of reasoning, if you allow your opponent
a respectable character, they will think that though
you differ from him, you may still be in the wrong.
With great deference to so high an authority, and
to the practice of multitudes, we must venture
humbly to except against such a course. Besides
being disingenuous, it is impolitic to traduce your
antagonist, more especially when you would reclaim
him  to truth.  When men thus begin to defame
their opponents, it is clear they do not mean to
make them proselytes; for they cannot be proud to
have such characters in their ranks, at least if they
are as bad as they represent them. Our Lord granted to the Scribe that he was not far from the kingdom of God, and Paul admitted to the Athenians
that they were very religious, and that they ignorantly worshipped the true God.  By an unsparing
onslaught you will only rally the friends of your
opponent to the vindication of his character, and
believing your charges to be unreasonable, they
will be easily led to suspect the soundness of your
arguments.  Candid admissions will prepossess all
minds in your favor, provided always that they are
not extravagant; if they are, they will be received
as satires rather than as compliments. Let not your
lamentations over his errors be overwrought.  An
affectation of compassion will be resented as disguised contempt.
Where no important principle is involved in the
name by which a sect styles itself, in talking with a
member of it we should call him by that which is
least offensive to himself: with a Catholic, say Catho7ic rather than Papist or Romanist; with a ChurchG~




154              DISCUSSIONS.
man, say Churc/hman rather than Episcopalian; with
a Baptist, say Bcptpist instead of Antipedo-Baptist
or Anabaptist; with a Unitarian, Unitarian rather
than Socinian; at the same time where fidelity to
Gospel truth exacts it, we may add that we do so in
compliance with general usage, though we cannot
but think it an unwarrantable concession. Nevertheless we should allow others to call bus or our sect
by whatever name they please, however improper,
unintelligible, or reproachful. We shall best conciliate them by meelly and cheerfully allowing them
to choose their own epithets.
The expression of a mere personal preference,
taste, or feeling, must seldom be contradicted. But
stancdards of taste in the fine arts are legitimate matters of discussion, as Sir Joshua Reynolds, La Bruyere,
and others maintain. La Bruyere says, "There is a
certain point of perfection in art; he that perceives
it and likes it, has a right taste; he that perceives it
not, and likes what is on either side of it, has a
vicious one: so that there is a good and a bad taste,
and some reason for disputing about them." But
matters of sentiment and taste cannot be discussed
profitably, except by cultivated minds whose judcl
ments concerning asthetics and the fine arts hav,
been formed by much study and reflection. Mlinds
of this description canl reason as logically on this as
on any other moral question.  With them  the old
maxim, De gustibus non, disputancdum does not hold.
But those whose religious connections are the result
of sentimentality, will still cleave to them when their
reason is convinced of their error. He who attempts
to reform them by setting forth the unreasonableness




D I S C U SS I O NS.       155
of their pref'erences, goes about to perform a great
undertaking. A person that is charmed with the
ceremonies and pageantries of the Church of Rome,
and beholds in them all that is beautiful, grand, and
awful, cannot be persuaded to embrace the doctrine
and ordinances of the evangelical churches by discourses on the simplicity and dignity of their worship. His present choice, so different from that to
which we would bring him, declares an incapacity to
relish the qualities we commend. The taste that
prefers the painted diamond or the essenced rose to
these objects in their native purity, is too far gone in
degeneracy to be restored without the help of Divine
grace. The only way to reason with a person of this
sort is to set aside the question of taste altogether,
and bring him to discuss the comparative merits of
the two systems as decided by the documents of inspiration. But we must not count too much upon
argument; nothing short of the transformation of his
soul by the Holy Spirit will wholly correct his taste.
The same course is to be pursued in the management of those who choose their church, their creed,
and their preacher, just as they do their physician
and their costume-because they are in fashion-because those whom they look up to as arbiters of elegance adopt and patronize them. The religion of too
many is like that of AM. de Grammnont, a Marshal of
France. Having gone, by order of the king, to visit
the minister MICorus, who was dangerously ill, the king
asked him, on his return, how he found him. The
marshal answered: "Sire, I saw him die like a good
Huguenot. What I think most to be regretted is,
that he died in a religion which is now as unfashion



156             DISCUSSIONS.
able as a peaked hat." Now any one must perceive
how vain would have been an attempt to persuade
this courtier to embrace the religion of the Huguenots on the ground that it was more worthy of royal
patronage than any other, or on the ground that it
deserved to be in good fashion.
Young infidels are not always to be argued with;
there is danger of flattering their vanity and self-importance by answering them with grave and labored
arguments. If they are our own children or wards,
we had better disabuse them of their pestilent doctrines by the use of the rod; for as infidelity is a vice
in itself and the parent of many more, seasonable
chastisement will teach them in what light they
ought to view it. A young man who had dipped into
many authors of an infidel turn, and had acquired
just enough knowledge to make him a conceited
atheist, began to make proselytes in his father's
family. His father, who had borne with his dangerous and schismatical opinions some time, heard
him one day remark that Carlo, his setting-dog, was
as immortal as any of the family, and that for his
part he expected to die like a dog. With this the
old man started up and cried out; " Then, sir, you
shall live like one," and taking his cane in hand
cudgelled him out of his system and brought him to
more serious reading. Coleridge tells a good anecdote of himself very similar to the above. " I had,"
says he " one just flogging. When I was about thirteen I went to a shoemaker and begged him to take
me as his apprentice. He being an honest man took
me to Bowyer, who got into a great rage, knocked
me down, and even pushed Crispin rudely out of the




DISC USSIONS.               157
room. Bowyer asked me why I had made myself
such a fool. To which I answered, that I had a
great desire to be a shoemaker, and that I hated the
thought of being a clergyman.' Why so?' said he.' Because, to tell you the truth, sir, I am an infidel!'
For this, without more ado, Bowyer flogged me,wisely as I think,-soundly as I know. Any whining
or sermonizing would have gratified my vanity and
confirmed ine in my absurdity; as it was, I was
laughed at, and got heartily ashamed of my folly."
We do by no means recommend this method with
adult infidels, nor with all young ones. We must
answer every one that requires a reason, while we
must treat with compassionate silence those who are
incapable of receiving a rational answer. In general, men are sooner won by reasoning than by ridicule, and by gentleness than by severity. Man is
like the herb basilique, which, as the Italians say, if
you handle gently, it will yield a sweet smell; but
if you rub and tread upon it, will engender serpents.
3Much more freedom is allowable in a conversational
than in a public or printed discussion. The former is
to the latter what a tournament is to a mortal combat.
The knights sally forth to break a lance as a trial of
skill and strength. The object is not the triumph of
a just cause, but the glory of those who enter the lists.
Yet this remark holds good only when minor questions are handled. In discussing subjects that are
really important, we should always aiml at truth. I-Ie
who lets off his arrows up into the air for mere self-display, will some day fall transfixed by them. If he will
not find them a mark they will make him their mark.
Let him not fancy they will, like those which Virgil




158             DISCUSSIONS.
sings of, take fire in the mid heavens and burn up.
He who takes what he knows to be the wrong side of
a morcal or religious question, or talks sportingly or
aimlessly on the right side, will at length suffer, if
not perish, by the recoil of his own arguments.
An old man should not browbeat his juniors, as if
it were impossible for a young man to be a sound
reasoner. He should ask no concessions by virtue
of his seniority; if he does, it is a virtual admission
either of the weakness of his faculties or of his arguments. To take sides against gray hairs is not such
unpardonable insolence, so we only treat them with
due honor in our manner of speec/h.
We must not offer to pursue an argument which
another started, unles.: he has fairly given it up, and
given us leave to do so. Even then, we must not take
his place with an air of superiority, as if we were the
only persons in the world who are able to do the subject justice. Some like to anticipate our reasonings
— bystanders, who make us their mouth-piece when it
serves their turn, and when we have a remark on the
end of our tongue they take it out of our mouths,
saying, " That was just what I was going to sayyou mean so-and-so."  " Exactly what I would have
said, had I your' gift of the gab.'"
When another shows by his replies that he has
mistaken your meaning, do not say to him, " You
do not understand me;" but rather, " I do not make
myself understood."  When you fail to gain a clear
perception of another's idea, do not tax him with
obscurity, but by a question draw out an explanation,
or modestly request him to assist your want of penetration by saying, " Pardon me, I did not understand."




DISCUSSIONS.                159
Do not raise objections abruptly, or deny assertions with rudeness, but when you dissent fiom any
view, say that some would raise such an objection to
it. Why common civility should not be shown to an
opponent we have always been at a loss to conceive.
In conversational debates its observance is of the
last importance. If the controversy is carried on
through the press, the parties may be severe without
detriment to their persons or to those about them.
But a truce to your noisy altercations in the social
circle, which begin by shaking the finger and end
by shaking the fist, to the terror of a bevy of ladies.
When debaters are roiled and boisterous, it requires some address to pacify them aright. It is
difficult to interpose directly, as intentional interruption is generally considered a rudeness. A little
pleasantry addressed to bystanders will sometimes
quell the strife. If we attempt to part persons that
have fallen together by the ears, the danger is that
they will leave each other and fly at ourselves, there
being nothing more easy than to make anger, when
once it is fairly roused, to fasten upon an unoffending object. We can occasionally put a period to contention by exciting laughter, or by making ourselves
subjects of merriment. When Juno was once quarrelling with Jupiter, the crippled and awkward Vulcan, by turning cup-bearer, so greatly moved their
mirth, that they forgot their strife, and passed the
rest of the day in festivity.
When you are answering an argument, quote accurately the propositions you design to examine;
give them their full force, and, if possible, strengthen them by additional reasons of your own. When




160             DISCUSSIONS.
you refute objections state them strongly, allow them
mnore than their just weight, and mention other objections not alluded to by your opponent. So you
will preserve a character for honesty at least, and
for ability also, if after giving them the vantageground you briefly and effectively refute them.
Be not one of those who tremble at every objection raised against their opinions, and are unwilling
to make any concessions to their opponents.  Be
rather of that easy temper which can perceive the
force or originality of an objection, and can pleasantly suggest to another, objections of greater weight
than any he has yet urged, and even help him defend himself against you, or vanquish you.  Debate
in the spirit of Socrates. In the Gorgias of Plato, he
says, " I am one who would gladly be refuted if I
should say anything not true, and would gladly refute another should he say anything not true; but
would no less gladly be refuted than refute. For
I deem it a greater advantage to be freed from the
greatest of evils than to free another; and nothing,
I conceive, is so great an evil, as a false opinion on
matters of moral concernment."
When the proposition you wish to establish is
likely to meet with a cool reception from the circle,
or has strong passions to encounter, you do well to
give your proof first, which will be examined with
more candor if you withhold the conclusion till it is
established. If you first shock the company with
your naked opinion, they will not listen calmly to
the reasons by which you support it.
Endeavor to retire with a good grace from a
dispute which you do not wish to prolong. Do not




DISCUSSIONS.                161
break off with the remark that you think the question must be submitted to abler hands before it can
be properly determined; or that much remains to
be said on both sides. It would be better to say "I
am  hardly able to convince you, so let us agree to
differ, and talk of something else;" or, " You and
I have now ascertained upon what points of the
question we differ, let us, if you please, inquire upon
what points we can agree." George Fox, the founder of the Society of Friends, relates a very good remark Oliver Cromwell made to him, at the close of
an interview he had with him at Whitehall. Crom.well caught him by the hand and, with tears in his
eyes, said: " Come again to my house, for if thou
and I were but an hour a day together, we should be
nearer to each other."
Some of the foregoing maxims will, no doubt, be
thought undeserving of regard by those who have
not learned from repeated experiments, that even
though the truth be supported by undeniable proofs,
and recommended by the highest authority, it cannot
often be fixed in the mind as the main-spring of action, unless it is assisted by the arts of persuasion.
The Son of God came down from his heavenly abode
invested with every amiable virtue, bringing the
most joyful tidings, and teaching the most beneficent
doctrines; yet he did not always make a direct appeal to the hearts of men, nor exhibit at once the
whole scheme of salvation and the nature of his kingdom; but unfolded them by degrees, as the prejudices of his disciples, and their progress in knowledge and piety, would allow. Endowed, though he
was, with Divine power, and though he had at his




162             DISC U SSIONS.
command all the angelic hosts, he did not compel
assent to his teachings, but used prudence and dexterity to pacify and win over a rebellious world.
And the Sun of Righteousness still continues to send
abroad his light over the earth, like His fittest emblem, whose rays, astronomers tell us, come down
through our atmosphere in curved lines.




CHAPTER  IX.
REPROOF.
THE timely rebuke seems to be regarded by the
Mosaic law as an expression of brotherly love. The
command is; "Thou shalt not hate thy brother in
thine heart; thou shalt in any wise rebuke thy neighbor, and not suffer sin upon him." WVere the performance of this office, made as it ought to be, a
criterion of -fraternal affection, few, it is to be feared,
could abide the test. An intelligent charity would
direct us to give a brother a momentary pain, which
issues in spiritual healing, rather than to allow a
culpable fear of offending to prevent his rescue from
guilt, sorrow, and the verge of perdition. He must
be hard-hearted enough who can knowingly leave his
brother to be admonished of his sin, only by its
deadly consequences-refusing to draw aside the
curtain which shuts the light out of his soul, leaves
it at last to glare in upon it through the ruins of his
character.
For another reason may reproof be the dictate of
brotherly kindness.  We have, perhaps, suspected
another of misdeeds which he has not committed, or
have misinterpreted his motives, or have judged of
his conduct on the testimony of perjured witnesses.




164                REPROOF.
In such cases, our censure will give him an opportunity to remove misconceptions that are afloat in
our minds. "Admonish a friend," says the son of
Sirach, "it may be he hath not done it; and if he
have done it, that he do it no more; admonish a
friend for many times it is a slander, and believe not
every tale."  Were this precept faithfully kept, the
tribe of whisperers that seek in a thousand dark and
winding ways to destroy the confidence good men
repose in one another, would be greatly thinned, if
not exterminated.
He who discharges this obligation to his brother,
should first institute a self-inquisition, lest the person
rebuked be tempted to retaliate by saying," Thou
fool, pluck the beam out of thine own eye." David
says, " Let the righteous reprove me;" and Paul
advises that the spiritual be employed to restore a
brother that has been overtaken in a fault. But as
those who are "righteous," and "spiritual," are
likely to be unconscious of their virtues, it is implied
that such are to be selected by the church for the
work of leading back wanderers. The occasions are
more frequent, where one is called upon to admonish
his brother in private, and for offences known to few
or none except himself. In such a case, however
unworthy he may deem himself to perform the service, such unworthiness, whether real or imaginary,
cannot excuse him from its execution. In order to
prepare the heart of his brother for the reprehension
he is about to administer, it is in some cases expedient to begin by making a confession of his own
faults. By this means he will secure himself beforehand, from any charge that might otherwise be




REPROOF.                  165
brought against him, and at the same time provoke
the person to be reproved to exercise the same frankness and humility in confessing his sins.
The rebuker should take care that not only his
own life be without reproach, but that his relatives
be not allowed to go unreproved for the very offences
which he rebukes in his friends and acquaintances.
A story is told of a venerable archdeacon, who, having heard of his clergyman's hunting propensities,
sent for him to lecture him on the subject. Soundly
did he administer his rebuke, long was he about it,
while his poor victim spoke not a word in his own
defence.  Suddenly the archdeacon, perceiving a
smile on the culprit's countenance, said: "Ah! I see
my admonition has little effect upon you: alas! you
too much resemble Gallio, who cared not for these
things.'"  Now was the climax, and the expected
penitent, drawing himself up to his full height, and
fixing a wickedly merry eye on his reverend elder,
replied: "'1Mr. Archdeacon, I have heard you with
patience: you may have rebuked me rightly, and I
may be a Gallio; but this I have to say, that if I am
a Gallio, your own son Richard is a Tally-ho; and
so, Mr. Archdeacon, I wish you a very good morning."  The son Richard was a noted clerical foxhunter.
According to the Apostolic precept, the reprover
should restore the faulty " in the spirit of meekness,
considering himself lest he also be tempted." He
who takes upon himself to reprehend another, seems
to claim a superiority to the offender as to moral or
intellectual qualities, assuming that he is himself free
from the sin, or that he can discern a blemish which




166                 REPROOF.
his brother was so careless as to overlook. In order
accordingly, to prevent resentment, he must not reprove in a tone of accusation or reproach, but as sensible of his own infirmities and of his liability to
commit the fault he would correct in another. And
if the reproved person takes umbrage and casts forth
abusive language or unguarded accusations against
him, he ought to bear the ill-treatment with an uncomplaining spirit; and to avoid rousing stonger opposition, or fixing him in obstinacy, he should not
attempt a self-vindication, but rather confess the
charge, if just, or pass it over unnoticed. He may,
if the case requires it, go further, and confess faults
that had escaped the notice or memory of the accuser.
WVe must take care that another be not made worse
by our attempts to make him better., When, instead
of salving the sore, we only irritate it, inflaming his
passions rather than soothing them, we are making
him but the more a transgressor.  We are tempting
him  to add to the sin in question, hatred, revenge,
evil-speaking, and perhaps other sins besides. If the
person is not at the time in a sober mood, or if his
temper is habitually irritable, a mild and cautious
course must be taken. There are many yielding moments, in the lives of the most stubborn natures,
whose return it is wise to watch and improve. "' The
guilty," says Seneca, " are like one that has an ulcer
which at first is hurt with every touch, and at last
even with the suspicion of a touch."'6  Those who
feel the force of a warning which they have resolved
not to obey, are the more displeased the oftener it is
16 Epistles, 97 and 105.




REPROOF.                   167
repeated. Nevertheless it is now and then incumbent upon us to expostulate with those who are
keenly sensible of their guilt, and if upon every fresh
rebuke, they manifest a growing sensitiveness, it
shows that they are either advancing in the career of
sin, or discovering in their hearts new depths of depravity.
It is in general less hazardous to accuse a man of a
failing of the heart, than of a weakness of the intellect. Mlost men would rather be blamed for want of
virtue than want of sense. Accordingly we should
go no further than to convince them of their guilt.
If we set ourselves to show them their folly also, they
may be provoked to a denial of both. When the
transgressor has shown shrewdness and sagacity in
committing sin, we may express to him our regret
that he should have prostituted his abilities by exerting them in acts of disobedience, and that the perversion of them should serve but to enhance his crimninality. They err who set themselves to convince a
man that pursues an unlawful but lucrative calling
that he would realize greater pecuniary gains by a
lawful employment. It is true, that, in many cases,
he might reasonably expect this result, but he could
have no warrant to expect it in every case. The New
Testament nowhere holds out pelf as a reward of virtue; on the contrary, it exposes the error of those
who suppose that godliness is favorable to the accumulation of earthly gain."7 It declares that, for all the
penitent forsakes, of temporal good, he is to receive a
hundred fold in this life, of spiritual benefits. HIe
who renounces sin does not thereby increase his
17 1 Timothy, vi. 5.




168               REPROOF.
wealth, but he obtains what is infinitely better-what
" with contentment is great gain." HIe does not, in
that act, win more of human honor than he had before, but he does obtain the hope that in a little
while he shall hear from the lips of his Great Taskmaster, the words, "Well done, good and faithful
servant;"-he does not gain a release from sorrow
and pain, yet he receives the grace that disarms
them of their sting, and converts them into untold
blessings. The attempt, then, to persuade the sinner
that, by a life of piety, he will more rapidly amass
earthly substance, to say nothing of perverting and
degrading the Gospel, is but to reflect on, or at
least to contradict, his own understanding, which has
come to a different conclusion. We ought to help
him to distinguish between what is lucrative and
what is right, and between inferior and limited good
and supreme and infinite good. Until he can perceive the difference between these ideas, he has not
taken the first step towards virtue, and to hold out to
him a temporal motive to the pursuit of it, is only to
remove it further beyond his reach.
In rallying another in the way of gentle reproof,
some are addicted to such frolicsome speeches as
are received as flatteries rather than corrections.
"But must I not preserve the character of a friend,
and should not kindness prompt all my reprimands?"
Without the shadow of a doubt. Yet your flashes of
wit, like lightning in a dark night, should not reveal
the fault for a moment only to conceal it in a deeper
gloom. Also avoid sly and equivocal satire. Let
your reproofs be open and manly. There is a great
difference between rudeness and plainness.  The




REPROOF.                  169
erring forgive severity sooner than cowardice and
meanness. They are of the opinion of the old philosopher, who said, " If I must suffer, I had rather
it should be from the paw of a lion than the hoof of
an ass."
Intimate acquaintance should not rebuke one another before company. It is as bad to throw out a
mysterious hint as a plain accusation. Whether it
be English or Arabic to the stranger, the impression
it makes on his mind is the same.
A person may sometimes be most effectually called
back into the way of duty without revealing to him
our knowledge of his wanderings. A chief officer in
the emperor Adrian's army, whom he knew to be a
malcontent and a maligner of his glory, was going
to run away in the midst of a battle. Adrian, seeing
him turning his back on the foe, stopped him, and
with a sweet and affable air, only said': "Yon are
going wrong I perceive; this is your way." Whereupon the officer turned his horse, as if it had been a
simple mistake of his, and not a meditated flight.
Aim to bring your admonitory remarks to a mild
and soothing close, so that the feather of the arrow
may heal the wound inflicted by its point. One of
the kings of England was highly incensed by reading a keen satire against himself; and as he read on
declared again and again that the author should suffer for his libel, but forgave him the moment he read
the last two lines which were these;
" Now, God preserve the king, the queen, the peersAnd grant the author long may wear his ears."
We have known the severest rebukes to be kindly
H




170               REPROOF.
received when they were brought to some such conclusion as the following: " Bad as you are I do not
think you so bad as to be unwilling to be informed
of your faults."
We ought to beware of reminding another of too
many faults at a time. There are but few who can
bear accusation upon accusation. It is wisest, first
to suggest amendment in one particular, and then
wait to see whether the hint is heeded; if not, we
can hardly hope that further admonition will be.
Queen Caroline pressed Bishop Rundle to tell her of
her faults.  "If it so please your majesty," said he,
" I will tell you of one. It is to be lamented that you
talk so much with the king during divine service."
"Thank you, my lord bishop," said the queen, " now
tell me another of my faults."  "That I will do with
great pleasure," said he, " when you have corrected
the one I have just mentioned."
There are some persons whom it is inexpedient
ever to take to task.'" He that reproveth a scorner
getteth to himself shame."  The Christian is not
required to give himself up to the tender mercies
of sarcasm, ribaldry, or waggery, nor allow his
soul to be harrowed by termagants and blusterers,
and "'sons of Belial, that a man cannot speak to."
Our Lord has too tender an affection for his little
ones to consent that they be sacrificed to the fury
of his enemies, unless their martyrdom can help to
lessen the number of his foes by making them His
friends. A fable in a HIindoo collection, the Pancha
Tantra of Bidpai, so beautifully illustrates this point
and is so rarely met with in English, that we must
he pardoned for repeating it. A number of monkeys




REPROOF.                 171
who lived in a mountain, on a cold, windy and rainy
night sought for a file to warm themselves; at last
they saw a glowworm, and thinking it was a spark
of fire, they gathered some wood and threw it upon
it; not far off there was a bird upon a tree, which,
observing what they were doing, cried out to them
and endeavored to convince them of their error.
This scene attracted the attention of a man that was
passing by who told the bird that it was wasting both
time and patience, and that no one thought of proving a sword upon a stubborn, impenetrable stone,
or of making a bow out of a piece of wood that
would not bend. The bird, however, without attending to him, flew down to them to prove to them that
the glowworm was not fire, but in recompense for
his pains was seized by one of them, dashed upon
the ground and killed.
It must be borne in mind that private offences are
to be corrected in private. Whoever checks a private misdeed in public will be thought more desirous
of dragging it to light than of preventing its repetition-of deepening the offender's mortification than
of effecting his amendment. Nor is this all; the
reprover becomes himself a public offender, meriting a public rebuke. When Socrates once reproved
Plato at a feast, for some private offence, Plato replied that it had been better to tell him of his fault
in private; for to mention it in public was an impropriety. Socrates answered, " And so it is for you
publicly to condemn that impropriety."  Socrates
was, we humbly conceive, in the wrong here. It
was admissible for Plato openly to reprimand him;
for by holding up Plato's fault before the whole




172                REPROOF.
party, he had done him a public injustice, and had
also wronged the guests by disturbing their peace.
As to public offences they are to be reproved as publicly as the offence was committed, that is, in the
presence of those who witnessed the obnoxious act,
and at the time when, and in the place where, it was
committed; with this salvo, however, that where it
is impossible from the nature of the case to rebuke
the act on the spot, and where the offence is of flagrant nature, and ain injury to society at large.
It is, for the most part, needless to reprove those
who are already self-rebuked. Sometimes we shall
find that the transgressor's conscience has forestalled
us; so that there will be no need of repeating the
duty. To remind another of a sin of which he stands
self-convicted, and to deepen remorse which is even
now excruciating, is less likely to bring hint back to
rectitude than to drive himn to despair.
In some cases the reprover will keep clear of provocation, by addressing the misdoer in the language
of the Sacred Oracles.  And where he may not
think it wise to commence with quotations, he should
at least prepare himself to fortify every charge with
suitable texts. The citation of a scripture command,
warning, entreaty, or exhortation, has two advantages;
it carries with it instruction and conviction, no less
than correction —and if the sinner should resent it,
he can be easily convinced that he is resisting God
Almighty, and not the reprover alone. He who performs this duty should be well furnished with Scripture instructions and promnises relating to the case, in
order that the rebuked, like Telephus, may be healed
by the same spear that inflicted the wound.




REPROOF.                 173
Brotherly tenderness oftentimes requires us to
allude to the offence in the mildest terms. The plain
Saxon may need to be displaced by words more polite and euphemistic. Our object should be, not to
conceal the idea to be conveyed, but only to cover its
grossness. Many being more shocked to hear the
names of certain vices than by committing the vices
themselves, we must be careful not to offend their
taste when we only purpose to make them loathe
their sins. We do by no means direct any one to
use, with all sorts of persons, those belittling words
and phrases by which sins are hardly hinted at.
They serve in too many cases to flatter the offender
with the delusion, that his sin is no worse than the
delicate name which the polite world consents to give
it. But at the same time it is our duty, when dealing with persons that are habituated to this style, as
far as can well be, to adopt it. And even where we
are called upon to denominate sins by their proper
terms, we should beware of doing it in a harsh tone.
Geptle methods, by paying a due respect to the person dealt with, and by showing the good will and
compassion of him that uses them, are armed with
moral power of the highest kind; so true is that
paradoxical proverb of Solomon, "A soft tongue
breaketh the bone."
Some persons are so sensitive to blame, or so jealous of their reputation, that a censure seriously disturbs their peace. Even some have been taken to
task in such a way, or in such circumstances, that
they have never fairly recovered the stroke. It behooves us accordingly to consider the temper and
nerves of the subject.  And it is well if we can




174                REPROOF.
manage with such a good grace, as to leave the rebuked so pleased with the manner, as for a time to
forget the matter, and as to merit the praise Adam
is made to pay to the angel who brought to him the
decree of banishment from Eden.
" Gently hast thou told
Thy message, which might else in telling wound,
And in performing end us."
It is here that circumlocutions find an appropriate
place. They are a sort of gossamer in which the
seeds of censure are wrapped, borne slowly along,
and made to light softly upon their destined place.
"The mischief of concise sayings," remarks Lord
Bacon, "is, that they are darts supposed to be shot
from their secret intentions; while long discourses
are flat, less noticed, and little remembered." Strong
passion speaks with brevity and  directness, and
rouses a kindred passion in others. But as the reprehender is supposed to be swayed by no pique or
prejudice, such language does not comport with the
nature of the duty. The most of us never forget a
reproof received, though we sometimes despise it,
and we may count ourselves happy if we are not
pestered with the recollection of some harsh word
or short sentence, which seemed charged with something beyond the needful sense, and looked like a
design to gratify secret malice.
Our Lord and the prophets betimes conveyed their
reproofs in parables, with most admirable effect.
We may take pattern from  them  in this particular, and occasionally set another right by the help
of a real oi' supposed instance, either with or without the application, as the case may warrant.




REPROOF.                    175
The gift or recommendation of a tract, sermon, or
treatise on the sin to be rebuked, will at times prove
more serviceable than a personal address. One of
the most delicate mediums of performing this duty
is an epistle. The missive should in all cases bear
the name of the writer. Such a course is dictated
by Christian frankness, and prevents groundless suspicions.
Occasionally we can best check a vice by a general remark on some moral or religious subject, and
without being directly personal, leave the transgressor to be admonished by a plain inference from our
remark. John IHowe excelled in this kind of reproof.
Several anecdotes are related of him  which prove
him to have been an admirable pattern in this particular. We must venture to relate one. At the time
the Conformity Bill was debated in Parliament, Mr.
Howe passed a noble lord in a chair, who sent his footman to call him, desiring to speak with him on this
subject. In conversation, speaking of the opponents
of the dissenters, he said, "d    n these wretches,
for they are mad."  MiIr. Howe, who was no stranger
to the nobleman, expressed great satisfaction in the
thought that there is a God who governs the world,
who will finally make retribution to all according to
their present character.  "And he, my lord, has
declared he will make a difference between him that
sweareth and him that feareth an oath." 18 The nobleman was struck with the hint, and said, "I thank
you, sir, for your freedom. I take your meaning,
is," Oath" was here intended as an equivoque: The oath required
by the Oxford, or Five-Mile Act, was at this time agitating the
nation.




176                REPROOF.
and shalt endeavor to make good use of it."  Mr.
Howe replied, "My lord, I have more reason to
thank your lbrdship for saving me the most difficult
part of a discourse, which is the application."  Oblique admonitions of this kind may be given with
excellent effect. They are not likely to irritate, and
if they do they afford a shield to the admonisher.
Still those reproofs which spring from a propensity
to deal in ambiguities, are more vexatious than useful, and when they proceed from a habit of moralizing on even the most trifling foibles of others, little
or no good comes of them.
A good way to reform some people is to provoke
them to laugh at their own faults. A sportive wipe,
a little raillery, or a lively passing allusion, is often
more effective than the most serious and formal
rebuke. The Roman bondmen took advantage of
the liberty granted them during the Saturnalia, to
open before their masters the budget of their wrongs,
and amidst mirth and festivity made bold to teach
them how to rule with clemency. The merryandrews which princes formerly kept at court, had
a way of rallying the great which wrought all the
effect of rebuke, with nothing of its asperity. To
do this with success requires some discrimination.
Persons naturally morose, or of slow parts, or of a
suspicious disposition, can seldom be so dealt with.
It answers best with those who are of a cheerful
temper, and those who know how to relish wit and
humor.  Even to these the correction should be
administered with an air of pleasantry which is not
the least tinctured with sarcasm. One advantage
of these jocund strokes is, that they clear the moni.




REPROOF.                   177
tor of all suspicion of malice and censoriousness.
They also give the corrected person an opportunity
to pass on to another subject, as if inattentive or
insensible to the chiding, and by keeping him in a
good humor, prepare him to give it a dispassionate
consideration. It is worth remarking, however, that
peccadillos only are the proper subjects of raillery.
Notorious vices and great transgressions must be
treated with seriousness.  To sport with these were.
to show insensibility to their heinousness, and prevent its being felt by the transgressor.
When the offender is our superior, our correction
must not take the form of a rebuke. The direction
of Paul to Timothy is: " Rebuke not an elder, but
entreat him  as a father, and the elder women as
mothers."  He means that we shlould reclaim such
by a respectful and affectionate request, asking them
whether the habit or action in question is in their
opinion sanctioned by the Divine authority; whether
they would not so far indulge our scruples as to adopt
a certain course, taking care to express our submission to their better judgment, and our deference for
their wisdom, experience, and years. We do not undeltake to give any form  of entreaty. Every one
must be left to use such expressions as circumstances
suggest. The proper performance of this duty depends not so much upon the words employed as upon
the meek, tender, and reverential spirit, that should
prompt and pervade them.  Miany persons excuse
themselves from correcting their elders on the plea
of their youth, but if they have a modesty answeraable to their years, the merest hint from them is more
powerful than the most methodical rebuke of older




178                  REPROOF.
persons. 1Milton's Satan is never ashamed but once,
and then it is at the reproof of a youthful angel:
"So spake the cherub, and his grave rebuke
Severe in youthful beauty, added grace
Invincible; abashed the devil stood,
And felt how awful goodness is, and saw
Virtue in her own shape how lovely I saw and pin'd
His loss."
In some instances a young person, or other inferior,
ought not to correct a superior in any manner, but
should prevail on some person of equal years or rank
to perform  the duty.  This cannot be effected in
cases of private injury, nor where the fault was previously unknown to the superior. The offender will
not account it a kindness in us to divulge his misdeed
to another, simply for the reason that he was a more
proper person to reprehend it.
In reclaiming Christian brethren, the form of entreaty is to be used in preference to that of rebuke.
In the connection of the above cited precept, the
apostle adds: "ErSntreat the younger men as brethren,
and the younger women as sisters." Paul exemrplifies his own precept in his letter to Philemon, saying, " Though I might be much bold to enjoin thee
that which is convenient, yet for love's sake I rather
beseech thee." From these Scriptures we learn what
is very generally overlooked, that no fellow disciple
in good standing and of unimpeached character is to
be in strict sense rebuked, but rather entreated, when
he is in error or fault.  The endearing ties which
unite brethren provide them with milder means of reclaiming one another. The rebuke partakes more or
less of the nature of a comnmand or prohibition, and




REPROOF.                  179
can properly be administered only by a church or its
officers, to stupid, or obstinate, or gross sinners, who
are subjects of discipline, and by those who correct
secular men.
When those who have made the general request
that whenever we find them erring, we admonish
them, do not receive our admonitions as thankfully
as we could have wished, we should not conclude
that they were insincere when they asked us to do
the duty. Possibly they took for granted that it was
to be performed in a becoming manner, and that
some allowance was to be made for human infirmity.
We cannot expect them to patronize a fault-finding
spirit that taxes every action that does not exactly
tally with our ideas of rectitude. So long as absolute Perfection Himself appears to have blemishes
when contemplated by the disordered minds of the
wicked, it is no wonder that such fallible creatures
as we are should discover some faults in one another.
We should tenderly respect a mind that has its scruples, but when it comes to grains, that is quite another affair. Were we not to set some limits to
reproof, the whole earth would resound with the
clamor of accusation.
On the other hand, there is a species of reproof
which lulls one into self-deception with respect to the
drift of his conduct, or the mass of his character. It
consists in reproving him for a trifle, while we are
silent as to some deep-seated vice, leaving him to
suppose that we know of nothing else that calls for
reprehension, and tacitly flattering him that he is
guilty of no other, or at least of no greater sin. " If
my friend," he says to himself, "is so faithful as to




180,EP ROOFo
notice so small a matter, certainly he would not leave
me unwarned of a greater." Most of those who are
addicted to this species of flattery do not intend to
hoodwink and mislead others. Nothing is more for.
eign to their thoughts. But whether they purpose to
deceive or to please, in either case the consequences
are the same. The transgressor is left to commit the
most glaring offences unchecked, and what is worse,
is left fatally blind to his own guilt. This negligent
way of dealing with souls is practised to an appalling
extent. There are spiritual guides who are careful
to set their followers right as to matters of mere
opinion or ceremony, but pass by their covetousness,
or prodigality, or sensuality, or some other vicious
habit. With pharisaic niceness, exacting of them
tithes of mint, and rue, and cummin, they allow
them to live altogether remiss in weightier matters.
They admonish them of a venial weakness, but it is
only that they may cause them to fall a more easy
prey to some giant passion.
It is incumbent upon us to mingle merited compliment with faithful reproof, that while we point out
to others their vices, we shall not seem blind to their
virtues. This is the more important, inasmuch as
devoted and active Christians betray faults which
others conceal in inaction and conformity to the
world.  Ile who dares to step in advance of his
brethren, becomes a more conspicuous object than
he who is lost in the multitude of formal professors
or the throng of unbelievers; Peter is more blamed
for following his Master a great way off, than the
rest of the disciples for seeking safety in flight. A
single blemish on a character generally fair, is more




REPROOF.                   181
remarked than one on a character thickly set with
them. The wise reprover will consider these things.
HIe will also reflect that he who is known to be meek
and deferential invites animadversions and receives
them from such as have not the hardiness to deal
with a person of a different description. Observing
that he is not hurt and thanks them for their fidelity
and kindness, they are encouraged to be lavish of
their admonitions, and they withhold the emollient
of praise in proportion as he seems not to suffer
from the wound. But none the less justice is due to
such a man because he does not exact it. " Those,"
says Pliny, "' who bear censure most patiently, most
deserve our praise."
It is meet that we express our gratitude for reproof
and our determination to give heed to it. To none
are our thanks more due than to those who seek the
amendment of our morals. They exercise no small
self-denial who call our attention to our faults, and
they could not confer upon us a greater favor than
to assist us in the pursuit of moral excellence. WVe
ought to receive reproof as singular marks of affection and good will. Only let us never show our
gratitude by making a return in kind. To do this is
to declare that we intend to return injury for injury,
by revealing to the reprover faults which we should
never have made known at all, had not our resentment invited us to the duty.
It being the proper use of reproof to bring another
back to duty, when this end can be better compassed
by other means, they should be employed. In some,
a vice is sooner subdued by implanting an opposite
virtue, than by a direct endeavor to uproot it; and




182               REPROOF.
there are numbers whose vices are of such a nature
that it were better to avoid all mention of them, and
aim to procure an entire renovation of their hearts.
Happy is he who has a brother that knows when,
and where, and how, to perform  this duty-that
does not set himself up for a censor-blaming by
rule, and ever on the watch for motes; and happy is
he, who is cordially thankful for the word of admonition, and gives diligent heed thereto.  " As an earring of gold and an ornament of fine gold, so is a
wise reprover upon an obedient ear."




CHAPTER X.
FLATTERY AND PRAISE.
IT may look like presumption in us to attempt to
add anything to what has been written on the subject of flattery. Yet the vague and erroneous notions that are current in the world, nay and among
Christians, upon this subject, and which some popular authors have helped not a little to advance, require one who professes to treat of the moralities of
speech, to give this subject some consideration.
There are authors in abundance who reduce flattery
to a system, and recommend it without scruple.
Chesterfield, La BruyBre, Duclos, and other kindred
names approve it, while others are at a loss whether
to condemn it or not. But we have a guide that
does not leave us in the dark on this point. It says,
"He that speaketh flattery to his friends, even the
eyes of his children shall fail."  Again, " The Lord
will cut off all flattering lips;" and again, "3 Meddle
not with him that flattereth with his lips."  These
words, and others like these, stand the Christian
instead of a world of mere human documents, and
with him set the matter forever at rest.
Flattery is the condolence of people of fashion,
making amends for the decay of beauty, and for the
loss of fortune, cast, and character. It raises them




184        FLATTERY AND PRAISE.
in their own esteem in proportion as they sink in real
worth, and fills up with vanity every void that exists
in the mind. It seasons the insipidities, and settles
the disgusts of company, and by the soothing recollections it suggests, relieves the languor and restlessness of occasional solitude.
Many of them know a real friend from a flatterer,
and yet they caress the flatterer, and dismiss the
honest and faithful friend. They receive with secret
satisfaction the most extravagant and impudent panegyrics, and tamely allow themselves to be deluded
by declarations which they know to be untrue. Such
an ambiguity is man. His vanity countenances those
who overrate him, and brings him at length to act upon
their words as though they were strictly true. And
if he is one of those rare spirits that will not credit
all the fine things that are said to him, he still perhaps takes pleasure in reflecting that others are so
dependent on him, as to resort to this vile means of
propitiating his smile, or of appeasing his frown. So
that this implied acknowledgment of his power has
the effect of the grossest flattery, and betrays him
into the power of others.
Rife as this vice is in the unbelieving world, would
that it were confined to it alone. It is with pain that
we say it is not unknown among professors of religion. They do not, to be sure, flatter one another
for the same qualities that the world do; but, what
amounts to the same thing, for those which they most
highly value.  Since there is nothing the sons of
glory so eagerly covet as humility, devotedness, benevolence, and the like virtues, they laud one another
for eminence in these.  Critobulus said to Socrates,




FLATTERY  AND  PRAISE.             185
"You remember the song the syrens used to charm
Ulysses with? It began thus:' O stay, O pride of Greece, Ulysses, stay.'
Such was their language, Socrates-but did they not
mean to detain others by their charms as well as
Ulysses."  Socrates replied, "Not at all, Critobulus,
words like these were only designed to allure noble
souls and lovers of virtue."  It is in this way that
the skilful flatterer always addresses the ruling passion. Not a few seem to suppose that the Christian
is in no danger of overrating his virtues, and of priding himself on them, else that their flatteries are
somehow sanctified by the holy qualities which they
ascribe to one another. The truth is, however, that
they are never so criminal and pernicious as when
they circulate among brethren.
Among those who fall victims to this kind of adulation, we sometimes find the preacher. A man can
hardly be raised above the heads of his fellows without giddiness, and it increases in proportion to his
elevation. The clergyman can dispense with studied
cajoleries; the high rank he holds in society, and
the incomparable dignity of his office, keep him duly
mindful of his own importance. The praisers of sermons are in general strictly honest in their eulogiums; when they hear a sermon which is seasonable and beneficial to them, they will naturally commend it. They may properly speak of its effect on
their minds; but to pronounce wisely on the intrinsic
merits of a sermon immediately after hearing it, is
one of the last achievements of the most practiced
critic. HIence much that is intended for praise is




186       FLATTERY AND  PRAISE.
not received as such by a sensible preacher. Those
who laud a preacher's style, arrangement, or delivery,
do but proclaim his inefficiency. Demosthenes filled
the minds of his audience with his subject, not his
oratory. Nearly all the panegyrics on the preaching
of Whitefield we have ever read, say less of his sermons than of their wonderful effects. When Lord
Brougham was once taken by Sir James Mackintosh
to hear Robert Hall, he requested after the sermon
to be introduced to him, and proceeded to compliment him on the discourse till checked by AMr. Hall
asking: "B13ut what of the subject, sir?  What think
you of it, sir.? Was it the truth of God, sir. "
When congregations go home, thinking or talking of
the theme of the preacher, and the duties he has
been urging, they pay him as high a compliment as
he ought to desire.
The pest of flattery is not confined to the clergy, it
rages among the laity: they infect one another. Is
one discovered to be gifted in prayer?  Soon he
learns that his brethren know how to admire his petitions. Is he an able exhorter?  How ready are
some to puff up his vanity. Is lie a liberal giver?
The anointed press publishes his name to all Christendom: so that he is taught to forget that the gospel
exacts simplicity in acts of charity.  These spoilt
children of the Church never do good by stealth, and
in noeting out to them what we consider just praise
for some instance of generosity that has attracted
our notice, they straightway strike up a strain of
self commendation to which the most brazen-browed
of their flatterers would be unequal; telling over
their charities item by item, so that you can make




FLATTERY AND PRAISE.             187
an exact calculation of all they have ever consecrated to benevolent objects. Now, we do not lay open
the faults of any of these noble characters because
we take pleasure in such work. Nothing of the kind.
Only we would have these faults cease to be. We
would have men who are pillars in the churchespillars, too, crowned with comely Corinthian capitals
-who do more in amount and with a great deal less
pretension and noise, for benevolent objects, than
any other class of men; we would have them keep
out of the thinnest shadow of unhallowed motives.
The pious economiast is understood to expect for
his services a return in kind. By saying fine things
of us, he lays us under a kind of obligation to repay
him with something equally fine; he both deceives
others, and hires them to dupe himself. Those who
thus live on the admiration of others, neglect the virtues and remit the duties which might make them
praiseworthy. Finding that they can obtain the applause of their friends at the cheap rate of flattery,
they do not barter for it a more valuable commodity.
There are circles that wholly give themselves up to
this game of flattery, as if this were the sole design
of their confederation, till they have crowned one
another with garlands of poppies, when they lie
down in spiritual sleep. IMany a coterie has adulation changed into such a drowsy elysium.
We sometimes hear it plead in apology for flattery, that he must be a churl indeed who can refuse
to make another happy when a few words only are required to do it. It is much as if, for the like reason,
we gave money to aid the opium-eater, impoverished
already by his vice to procure a few grains for tile




188       FLATTERY  AND PRAISE.
renewal of his deadly dissipation. If happiness, it
is ruinous and demoralizing. We shall not pause to
examine this apology further-which is such as none
but a flatterer would have the face to offer-but go
on to say that, if we would please others, we had
better be indulgent and good-humored towards their
faults than ascribe to them qualities they do not
possess; for flattery is little else than an endeavor
to hide the known defects of a character by attributing to it imaginary excellences.- Sincere kindness
is the best policy here, and he pleases aright who
frankly tells another his failings, and at the same
time convinces him that he does not cease to love or
admire him on their account. To be able to speak
the truth without giving offence, is proof of greater
skill in the art of complaisance than to tell an untruth on purpose to please. 
We meet with more than a few who are passionately fond of receiving compliments though they
rarely return one, and when they do, it is paid
grudgingly. We have somewhere read of a nobleinan, who, though he exceedingly loved to be flattered himself, was so far from being guilty of this vice,
that he was remarkably free to tell others their
faults. A fiiend one day said to him, he wondered
that he who loved to be flattered better than any
other man living, did not return a little of it himself.
lie replied that he could never think of giving away
what he so eagerly coveted. Some refuse to repay
adulation, because they think that others do them no
more than justice. Too few omit to return it fiom a
wish to stop this commerce in lies. The reciprocation of just praise sometimes springs from the lauda



FLATTERY AND PRAISE.             189
ble desire of giving another to know that, notwithstanding his high opinion of us, we do not count
ourselves his superiors.
Blessed be the times! flattery is now beginning to
be placed among the antiques. Whoever is detected
flattering is, to make the best of him, set down as
belonging to the old school. A shopkeeper we have
read of, was one day dealing out to a customer the
grossest flattery, when the latter interrupted him" Sir, you are mistaken in your chronology." " Mistaken in my chronology!" exclaimed the surprised
glozer; "'what has that to do with the matter?"
" Only this, that so early as the year 1540, this kind
of complimentary insult had become obsolete." The
flatterer was struck dumb, of course.
If we would not have one suspect us of any evil
design in our praise, we should add our reasons for
it. If another merits our approbation, certainly there
is some ground for the merit; and we are bound to
mention it. Then, on the other hand, many never
approve you, lest they should appear to have some
designs upon you. They are incessantly saying;
"There, you are in the wrong again."  "You are
to blame for this reason and for that reason, and for
the other reason."  Many of your coarse and curttongued people, who are so very honest-are base
mongrels, generated between the knave and the fool.
Mi~any people would have us praise those whom
they praise, not because they desire to exalt others,
but because they seek an indirect compliment for
their own judgment. If we will only bow the knee
beside them before their Rimmon, it is all as if we
had made themselves our idol.




190       FLATTERY AND PRAISE.
There be those who are as malignant in their
praises as they are in their detractions. They will
praise a man before his rival, that they may wound
his pride or inflame his envy. Those who praise
one person in the presence of another who is distinguished for the same excellence, are likely to
excite the antipathy of the latter towards themselves; for unless his better feelings hold the ascendency, he will either despise the stupidity or
hate the malice that overlooked his own virtues,
and extolled another at his expense.
There are those who commend others with the
intent to praise themselves. They so ardently admire certain virtues, and show such a nice discrimination in the treatment of them, and withal such
indignation at the opposite vices, that they draw
people insensibly to the notion that they are themselves eminent for the same.  And perhaps they
gain a reputation not only for the qualities they
panegyrize, but also for candor and liberality in
acknowledging the merits of those who are their
equals or superiors.  Some again there are who
eulogize a friend with an eloquence that makes the
hearers forget the subject in their admiration of the
orator.
Those who intend really to praise another, should
not speak of him in the language of hyperbole. They
run the hazard of inflaming the envy or the jealousy
of their hearers, who are tempted to run him down as
far below the merited mark as he was raised above
it. It is more judicious to set some bounds to our
admiration, and mention some fault which may
justly be imputed to him; so we shall set off his




FLATTERY AND PRAISE.              191
virtues to better advantage, by way of shading or of
contrast, and hold out to others no temptation to
attack his imperfections.
The Christian must avoid, in his compliments, the indiscriminate use of that exaggerated language which,
though it may become those among whom custom has
given it a fixed meaning, it is otherwise not compatible with the character of those who are expected to
observe at all times a moderation of speech, and to
keep far within the bounds of verity. Something it
is true must be allowed for the import of certain
words and phrases, which have come to convey a
conventional, not a literal meaning. Such may be
used without the slightest departure from truth. To
lie is to convey a false idea, and this can be as
readily done by words which come short of the fact,
as by those that go beyond it. In this view, he who
expresses a sincere compliment in the tumorous style
of the fashionable world, no more tells an untruth,
than he who conveys the same idea in the language
of rigid exactness. He who tries to couch his compliments in moderate terms, labors under this difflculty; that those who have been accustomed to be
addressed in a loftier style, will receive his words as
purporting less than he intended. Still, however,
for the purpose of keeping clear of the charge of
insincerity from those who are not habituated to this
style, and of preserving the language itself from
corruption, we should, where necessary, be ready to
sacrifice eloquence to precision. M1ontaigne, speaking of the manners of his age, says that there never
was, at any other time, so abject and servile a prostitution of words in the conversation of people of




192       FLATTERY  AND PRAISE.
fashion; the humblest tenders of life and soul, no
professions of regard under those of adoration and
devotion, writers constantly declaring themselves
vassals and slaves; so that when true friendship or
gratitude sought to give utterance to its genuine
feelings, words were wanting to express them.
We should be the more scrupulous on this point,
because flattery is the worst sort of falsehood. Other
lies are generally detected, and the liar exposed and
punished, but flattery is a kind of untruth which the
person for whom it was intended does not desire to
detect, and when others demonstrate to him its falsity he is slow to admit it, because he loves to believe it true. Other falsehoods may expose us to
the loss of friends, fame, or wealth, but this nourishes into a monstrous growth the original pride of
the fallen soul, and involves us more and more in
guilt and self-ignorance, and consequently in ignorance of others.
When others are flattering us unwittingly, and
magnifying us for qualities and actions that do not
belong to us, we ought to think it worth while to
disabuse them of the mistaken estimate they have
formed of us. "Princes," says Machiavelli, " have
no other way of expelling flatterers from their courts,
than by showing that the truth will not offend." He
who listens with manifest pleasure to laudatory discourses which he knows to be not true, patronizes
falsehood; but he who is careful to know, and to have
others know, his real character will not long be pestered with glozers. We ought not to suffer others to
repeat, without correction, rumors or anecdotes that
are reputable to us, though misrelated or utterly




FLATTERY ANI PRAISE.             193
without foundation, or fine sayings which are falsely
attributed to us. We should correct every misstatement of this nature, and reduce it to the exact
measure of fact. No man is the better for a reputation that does not grow out of real worth; for his
true character will be known one time or another.
But he who takes proper occasion to remove the
gilding his admirers may have laid upon his character, instead of hearing the praises. of his deluded
admirers with a self-complacent smile, will, if he do
it modestly, gain the confidence, though he may lose
the eulogiums, of his fellow-men. There could be
no higher encomium on the piety of Richard Baxter than the fact recorded by his biographer, that he
was desirous that no one should overrate his Christian attainments.
A wise man is as highly complimented by being
informed of the disapprobation of the bad as he is
of the approbation of the good. For the reproaches
and detractions of a mean man, though despicable
in themselves, serve as clouds to reflect the glory of
an enviable fame. Obloquy and abuse were thought
to be essential parts of a Roman triumph; they
are quite as needful attendants of victorious virtue.
There is a tribe whose admiration is always ill-bestowed, and
"Of whom to be dispralsed were no small praise."
On the contrary, to he eulogized by the bad is to run
the risk of losing the esteem of the good. Few men
are duly appreciated except by kindred spirits, and
he who pretends to admire a particular character,
T




194        FLATTERY AND PRAISE.
has, in the opinion of a different class of people,
brought that character down to his own level.
For this reason, as well as for others that might be
named, we should not praise another, unless we are
qualified to judge of his deservings. We cannot
properly praise a work in art, science, or literature,
unless we possess a tolerable knowledge of the subject. A person who is not competent to judge of a
work, is permitted to say that a treatise, or sermon,
or painting, or statue, pleases him, or tell how it
strikes his mind, but for him to declare, in a decisive
tone, his opinion of such a work, is to incur the contempt
or the derision of adepts. Men of sense are not proud
of laudations that do not come from equals or superiors.
In the consideration of this subject, the desire of
just approbation must be kept quite apart from the
desire of flattery: the former springs from humility,
the latter from pride. The man that courts adulation would learn whether he is as excellent in the
esteem of others as he is in his own. Whereas he
who desires the praise of the wise and the good
would know whether there is any redeeming feature
in his character, or any usefulness in his endeavors,
or whether, as he often suspects, he is too partial to
his own powers, or is misapplying them. He wishes
some relief from the monotony of self-accusation, and
from the fear that he is a useless or unwelcome atom
in the immensity of matter. Without the encouragement of others, humility sinks into dejection, and faculties that might otherwise have been rewarded by
action, are wasted in despairing sloth.
Accordingly, those who love flattery receive it
with calmness and self-complacency, and those who




FLATTERY AND PRAISE.             195
desire deserved approbation are apt to be confused and disconcerted by compliments; they are
ashamed to think that their deeds are matter of
discourse, or their self-hid powers are exposed by
others.  "lMIerit," says Duclos, "like chastity, is
modest; he pronounces his own eulogy who cannot
receive one without blushing and embarrassment."
When we bestow praise on one who has been beneficial to others, together with ourselves, it is courteous not only to express our individual opinion, but
also to volunteer to speak for them when they do not
speak for themselves, and when we are sure they will
agree with us in expressing the same sentiment.
Praise occasionally proves a good vehicle for a
precept, or warning, or exhortation. Not that we
should bestow the praise for the sake of its appendages; but, when praising another, we may use the
opportunity to make him more praiseworthy.
We may often as strongly express our appreciation
of another's merits by actions as by words. Indeed
there are occasions when verbal praise is valued as it
is seconded by an act of justice or kindness.
Some people eulogize from beneath the mantle of
prophecy. They confidently predict noble things of
others with a view to extol their present capabilities.
This prospective praise gives confidence to diffidence,
strengthens feeble virtues, and revives languishing
hopes. It is most suitably conferred upon youth.
More direct commendation may be given to aged
persons. They have leartned to set a just value on
human applause, and have grown too wise to suffer
themselves to be intoxicated by it.  The laurel
wreath becomes a bald head.




196       FLATTERY AND PRAISE.
Let the Christian beware of setting up a faulty
standard of excellence, or of being carried away
with a blind admiration of the great ones of this
world. Let him soberly inquire into the nature of
their renown, and whether they have won it by just
and generous means. Even the ancient heathen had
juster notions of greatness than many nominal Christians. They so inclosed the Temple of Honor that it
could be entered only by passing through that of
Virtue. Some religious professors so use the epithet
" good " as if they accounted goodness a doubtful, or
at least a negative virtue. They say,  "He is a good
man" with an emphasis, or in a connection which
denotes that there are many things in the world more
estimable than piety. If they can think thus of the
godly, the humble, the prayerful, and the beneficent,
what can be their criterion of human worth?  We
will not undertake to say: it is, no doubt, best
known to themselves.




CHAPTER XI.
DETRACTION AND SCANDAL.
WE have somewhere met with the remark, that if
we were to pin together all the passionate speeches,
all the imprudent actions of the best of men, all that
he had said or done amiss in a whole life, and hang
it upon him, so that it might all be seen at one view,
at the same time concealing his wisdom and goodness, the man in this disguise would look like a fool,
or a fury, or perhaps a mixture of the two. So
strange are the transformations that are wrought by
the sorceries of the detractor-sorceries so powerful
that they are successful in a thousand cases where
the arts of the mere slanderer could avail nothing.
The slanderer's falsehood has nothing but itself to
commend it to belief; but the detractor's falsehood
connects itself with truths which gain for it a confidence as general and implicit as that which they inspire.
To tell what is strictly true to the injury of another,
is frequently as criminal as to tell what is false to his
injury. It may be the same both as to the motive
that actuated it, and the results which eventually
follow. It is oftener worse than better, in every respect. If one circulates what is wholly false, the
chances are that the slander will soon be detected,




198     DETRACTION AND SCANDAL.
and the person vilified emerge from the cloud with
brighter honors than ever; whereas, if we tell of a
real misdeed of another, he may never have the boldness to deny it, so that it will go on circulating and
gaining belief all his days, and perhaps long after he
is dead. It will exert a secret, yet blighting influence on his reputation, and move on before him like
some unseen hand, closing in his face every door to
usefulness. No matter that he has repented of his
transgression, and has radically reformed, no matter
that he is now entitled to the highest admiration of
mankind, some detractor has whispered a word that
can never be recalled-a word which, most likely,
represented him to be what he is not now, if not
worse than he ever was. Yet every body boldly and
industriously circulates the report, because, as he
says, it is true.
It is not to be overlooked, indeed, that there are
higher considerations than those of reputation, which
sometimes require us to set aside the general principle in question, and to expose the sin or crime of
our neighbor. There are cases in which it would be
a breach of our obligations to the church or to the
state to conceal it, and by doing so, we would be accounted accessories. When others are likely to be
injured by mistaking ones character, or by not knowing his deeds, it is a duty we owe to their safety to
caution them against him. Yet where the offence
does not concern the public, but individuals alone,
we have no authority for making it known. If we
hear others speaking of him in too high terms, we
have no right to state facts which would lower him
him in their esteem, so their opinion of him does not




DETRACTION AND SCANDAL.             199
control their action in any important affair. Every
man is justly entitled to all the celebrity he enjoys,
if he did not gain it wrongfully, or does not use it to
compass hurtful ends. Even though he attained the
eminence he has reached by offences against God,
still, if withal he has not wronged manz, none may
presume to disturb him in his place, or in his honors:
nay, we may not do it even then, if, though he has
been unjust to others, he has not done us a mischief,
nor made it obligatory upon us to bear testimony in
behalf of an injured party. If it were otherwise, we
might, with equal equity, plot the destruction of
whatever belongs to our neighbor, on the plea that
he acquired it by unlawful traffic. One may even
use an ill-acquired reputation to support his attacks
on the Gospel, without his being justly exposed to
assaults upon that reputation, any further than to
express our opinion of such an attack, and to show
its incongruity with the character which is generally
attributed to him, and to expose all such false pretensions as are set up on purpose to further error or
irreligion. We cannot turn aside to attack his general character, which gives only an indirect aid to a
pernicious cause. There are several reasons that forbid us to do so, one of which is, that every one holds
a property in the good will and confidence of his fellow men.
We are allowed to lay open the real character and
actions of another when the exposure is necessary to
the defence of our good name. No man can lawfully hide hostile weapons under the cloak of hypocrisy, and he has no reason to complain, if we strip
the cloak off his shoulders. At the same time we




200      DETRACTION AND SCANDAL.
are permitted to expose the vices of another only so
far as they take hold on our interests. We are not,
indeed, accountable for the exposure of other vices
and crimes which may incidentally result from the
disclosure of the offence which concerns us.
It is perhaps worth while here to say, that in none
of the foregoing instances is it admissible for any
one to feel hatred towards the person he is forced to
expose. He needs a truly Christian spirit who would
bear witness against another in a case in which he is
himself involved, in such a way as to shut out the
suspicion that his own interests have given some coloring to his testimony.  LIe who undertakes a selfvindication in a matter which is unknown to disinterested persons, commonly pleads to little purpose.
For how much soever of justice there may be on his
side, he can never hope that justice will be done
him by society, inasmuch as it is not a legal tribunal, and if it were, it would call for stronger evidence than he can bring. The greatest and most
numerous wrongs are those which the strong commit
against the weak, in circumstances where none but
the parties are witnesses to the offence, and in cases
in which, from  the imperfections of human law,
redress is not to be obtained.  The wise suppress
such griefs in their own hearts, considering that
society takes no pleasure in hearing individual grievances.  Though it is extremely difficult to hush
injured justice, as she laments bitterly within us, we
can seldom speak in our own defence except at the
cost of dignity, or probity, or candor. The aggressor
who does not trouble others with arguments in his
own defence, is better received in society than the




DETRACTION AND SCANDAL.              201
aggrieved who oppresses them with the story of his
wrongs, by repeating which he is sure to suffer additional wrong from  their reviews of the case: he
becomes like a column which having once begun to
settle upon its treacherous pedestal, is pressed still
lower, by bringing down upon its capital a mass it
did not before support.  We had better bear in
silence the wrongs we suffer, than by our groanings
wake up a tribe of surmisers, who will, in all likelihood, take sides against us.
When, however, it becomes our duty, as it sometimes does, to declare what is discreditable to another, we must strictly limit ourselves to the fact,
carefully keeping clear of all comments, inferences,
and opinions. The witness may not assume the task
of the advocate or of the judge.
Some have a way of publishing faults in a strain
of lamentation. They sorely regret that such a one
did so and so, going on to describe most graphically
the action that costs them  so many sighs.  Their
tones are those of charity, but their intentions-over
them we throw the cloak of charity. Cleinens testifies of the Corinthian disciples, that they bewailed
the sins of a brother as if they esteemed his sins
their own. But these persons neither pity the transgressor, nor regret the dishonor he has brought upon
the Christian cause. The Christian is not, indeed, to
be forbidden to deplore the sins of his fellow-disciple;
but when he joins the office of herald to that of mourner, people are tempted to suspect that he uses the
voice of wailing only the better to. incline their ears to
his calumnies. A true report concerning a professor
of religion, and spread fromn the best of motives, does




202       DETRACTION  AND SCANDAL,
untold mischief, by enabling the despisers of piety
to repeat it with the sneering parenthesis, " (to the
honor of religion  be it said.)"   When Saul and
Jonathan fell on the field of Gilboa, David lamented
the event in numbers, by whose inspiration every
Christian's tongue should be swayed.  "Tell it not
in Gath, publish it not in the streets of Askelon;
lest the daughters of the Philistines rejoice, lest the
daughters of the uncircumcised triumph."
The detractor, strictly so called, is the most common and  successful destroyer of character.  He
begins, it may be, with a panegyric on the amiable
and excellent attributes of his victim.  He expati
ates on his ardent piety, his disinterested benevolence or his deep humility, but adds that he thinks
him not scrupulously honest."9 Another has more
virtues than he has time to.name, but he has cause
to suspect the motives of certain actions.  The life
of another is marked by uprightness, devotedness,
and kindness, but there is one passage in his history
he knows not how  to explain; it may be a fact, it
may be a fable.  He hopes that such an awkward
report concerning his dear brother is not true; for
his part he has a higher opinion of him than to
believe it.  He asks our opinion as to the rumor.
The persons that use this artful sort of depreciation, would have us suppose  that they are very
19 This sort of detraction is sometimes carried to a ludicrous pitch.
"There is a passage in Bede," says Swift, in a letter to Pope, "highly
commending the piety and learning of the Irish in that age: when,
after abundance of praises, he overthrows them all by lamenting that
alas! they kept Easter at a wrong time of the year. So our Doctor
Arbuthnot has every quality and virtue that can make a man amiable
or useful; but alas! he hath a sort of slouch in his walk."




DETRACTION AND SCANDAL.             203
candid so to interlard their evil speeches with morsels of praise. They intend, by relieving their detraction with an occasional compliment, to gain for
themselves a name for honesty and high-mindedness.
But their colorable honor and fairness serve but to
shield themselves, while they are levelling their arrows at others. And though their detractions may
not always be prompted by a specific bad design,
they are, to say the least of them, the communications of a heart corrupt by nature and habit.
There is a generation who, if they do not practise
the artifice above mentioned, are careful to cover
their malignity under the guise of defaming others
in the ears of confidential friends only. They would
on no account have the thing noised abroad, and
must bind us to the strictest secresy. But ah, how
few can hold as a sacred trust what is told them in
private. The most of us seem to regard such a secret
as a casket which, though it is committed to our
keeping, we think we are at liberty to open and show
its contents to our friends. But we no more desire to
learn a secret merely to conceal it, than we would desire a casket for the mere pleasure of keeping it out
of the hands of thieves. Some people act as if a secret were a deposit which nobody had a right to
make, forfeited as to the owner by the very act of
entrusting it, and which they may dispose of at their
own option, like smuggled goods which, when found,
are confiscated for the public good; others forget
that secrecy was enjoined, or, if requested, they recollect that they did not bind themselves by an oath,
and having stolen the narrator's confidence by their
silence, now betray it by their volubility; others




204     DETRACTION  AND SCANDAL.
again suspect that the narrator does not wish it to be
kept totally hid, and have, apparently, good grounds
for the suspicion; for they have heard the same secret from  one or two others to whom also he had
intrusted it. If the original narrator may tell it to
all his bosom friends, why not each of these to his
own circle of intimates? As everybody has acquaintance who can practise an inviolable reserve, each
whispers the story in the ears of these till it is known
in every part of the community, and when, as it
speedily does, it begins to be a matter of notoriety,
those whose ears drank it, quickly lift up their voices
like trumpets, to proclaim their distinction as original
shareholders in the secret; and soon all men are bold
to publish it aloud to all.
It is in secret that rumors obtain the easiest circulation. Those that carry along with them a very
questionable evidence or none at all, gain through
this medium all the force of truth. Many a story
which, had it at first been openly asserted, would
have been promptly denied and suppressed, has, by
being studiously withheld from discussion, gained an
extensive currency before it was in the least examined, and the person concerned could not detect it
till it had sprung up suddenly from  all quarters,
when, by reason of the number of those who had
heard it, disproof and denial were out of the question; every attempt at refutation was met by a quotation of the vulgar maxim, that'" What everybody
says must be true."  MIost confidential matters that
are whispered in our ears ought to be heard with
suspicion. It is probable that the narrator is circulating in secret what he dares not speak ill public




DETRACTION AND SCANDAL.               205
lest he be charged with falsehood, or with reporting
a truth of such a nature that it ought not to have
been divulged. Beneficent truth loves the day, and
never goes abroad under cover of night, while malevolent truth always walks within the domains of darkness, and like certain parts of the ancient Pagan
worship, is kept in great mystery because it is too
impure to abide the light.
It is by the arts of derogation that the crafty are
able to disparage the character of their enemies, and
inflame jealousy and hatred among mutual friends.
Pouring into their ears the venom of falsehood, and
taking every precaution to keep each from openly
accusing the other till it has poisoned every affection,
they prepare them for deep and ceaseless enmity to
each other. In this manner " a whisperer separateth
chief friends," and, we may add, sets whole communities at variance with one another.
Calumny many times originates in raillery and extravaganza.  Loose-tongued people say the worst
things of the best men for the sake of raising a laugh
at the incongruity; else they invent strange stories
concerning some distinguished person, and tell them
to the unsuspecting in order to amuse themselves with
their credulity. These experiments often turn out
more serious results than was at first anticipated.
These sayings are believed and spread till they are
generally received as true, or till the gay babblers
who started them  are convicted of libel.  "As a
madman who casteth firebrands, arrows, and death,
so is the man that deceiveth his neighbor, and saith,'Am not I in sport?' "
Some persons make their friends confidants only




206     DETRACTION AND SCANDALo
so far as to give them vague hints at a fault, and intimate that they know something of another, which it
would be improper or inexpedient to divulge. They
sharpen the appetite of curiosity to such a degree
that it is driven to seek food among the unreal creations of the imagination. In this way they set the
person aspersed in a worse light than they would if
they were to blurt out the whole story. A single circumstance concealed, or discovered only in part, excites a suspicion in the hearer that more than makes
up the deficiency in the narrative. There is a sort
of people who will leave one's mind to dark conjectures as to one's faults, to which they give him a
slight clue on purpose to make him believe a lie, and
yet escape the odium of falsehood. They sow suspicion and fear in such broken hints as these: " As
well, well we know;-or we could an if we would;
or if we list to speak; ol there be an if they
might."2'
Not a word of malice or envy or hatred should
be tolerated in society. When anything of the kind
intrudes itself into the circle, it should be driven out
with frowns: "The north wind driveth away rain;
so doth an angry countenance a backbiting tongue."
To answer a detractor with the least show of approbation, is to encourage him to chill all hearts and to
put a period to all genial discourse. There are passes
in the Alps where the guides tell you to move on with
speed and say nothing, lest the agitation of the air
caused by your voice loosen the snows above and
bring them down upon you. Even thus one approving word given to a defamer sometimes sets in mo9' Hamlet, Act 1, Se. v.




DETRACTION AND SCANDAL.             207
tlon the whole side of some alp which overwhelms
the company beneath the smothering masses of illwill.
There is a spirit of fault-finding which it should
be our care to avoid. Some professors impelled, as
they feel, by a deep concern for the prosperity of
the Church, deal out aspersions on their delinquent
brethren with an unsparing tongue. If the group
consists of the most zealous members of the church,
it joins in running down the lukewarm; if of the
self-denying and the benevolent, it speaks against
the ease-seeking and the covetous. Saadi, the Persian fabulist, gives us an incident in his own history,
which, though it was intended for the admonition of
Mahometans, will, perhaps, prove instructive to some
Christians. "I remember," says he, "that in my
childhood I was very religious; I rose in the night,
was abstinent, and was punctual in the performance
of my devotions. One night I was sitting in the
presence of my father with the holy Koran in my
embrace, not having closed my eyes during the
whole time, though numbers around me were asleep.
I said to my father,' Not one of these lifteth up his
head to perform his genuflexions; but they are all so
fast asleep you would say they are dead.' Hle replied;' Life of your father, it were better that you
also were asleep than to be searching out the faults
of your neighbors.' " These complainers would, some
of them, be excusable were they actuated by a compassionate spirit, but so habituated are they to talk
of the failings of their fellow-saints, that they do it
without the slightest touch of pity. Their tongues
have grown hackneyed on such themes, and their




208     DETRACTION AND SCANDAL,
hearts beat with their wonted regularity through the
longest tirade against the children of the kingdom.
Paul felt great sensibility when he called to mind
the worldliness of certain of his brethren. He always spoke of it with increasing regret-" of whom
I have told you often, and now tell you even weeping."
There are numbers who though they think it wrong
to speak slightly of their equals or inferiors, do not
scruple to defame their superiors, as clergymen,
rulers, and candidates for office. One would think
they had a dispensation to say all manner of evil
against persons of this description.  They pillory
officers in the church or state, as though they were
out of the protection of all law, and as though it
were a sin to be nice in the choice of the epithets
with which to brand them, or to fail in their treatment of them to outrage all decency and all mercy.
How promptly and nobly did Paul apologize for
having used reproachful language in addressing an
abusive high priest. One of the charges that Peter
and Jude bring against the dissolute heathen is, that
they "speak evil of dignities," a deed which, as they
declare, the angels themselves dare not do even of
no better dignitary than Satan. The royal preacher
goes so far as to forbid us to harbor secret enmity
against our superiors: " Curse not the king; no not
in thy thought: and curse not the rich in thy bedchlalmber; for a bird of the air shall carry the voice,
and that which bath wings shall tell the matter."
All detractors do not begin with hating the person they lessen in the estimation of others. They
wish, it may be, to warn their friends from leading




DETRACTION AND SCANDAL.             209
the same life, by pointing out its dangers, or to clear
themselves of a charge, by showing where the blame
ought to lie; but what begins with gold often ends
with clay. It is an inclination of the human heart
to hate those whom it has injured. This maxim,
which modern poets and historians have claimed as
their own, was, in substance at least, first taught by
the Holy Spirit. Solomon says, "A lying tongue
hateth those that are afflicted by it." Even when
any one reports what is true, if he knows he has done
it imprudently as to manner, or uncharitably as to
motive, or, at any rate, to the unnecessary injury of
another, he can hardly help regarding the injured
person with unhappy feelings. Self-accusation follows every recollection of the person concerning
whom he has so spoken, and he no longer finds pleasure in the company of one, the very sight of whom
brings to mind the wrong he has done him.
Hitherto we have been mainly attending to the
subject of detraction. It will not be amiss to add a
few remarks concerning scandal, which frequently
originates in detraction, or rather, is but detraction
circulated abroad.
The vice of scandal appears to have its source,
partly in the love of falsehood, which is natural to
man, and partly in a vain desire of being esteemed
all-knowing, which leads him to pretend to information he does not possess. This original proneness to
defamation is helped forward by a regulation of society, which, at first sight, appears as if it would check
it. We allude to the tacit agreement that whatever
passes between friends in the converscazione, is not
to be repeated elsewhere. This rule is of ancient




210     DETRACTION AND SCANDAL.
origin. Lycurgus ordered that when the Spartans
sat down at their public tables, the oldest man present pointing to the door should say, " Not one word
spoken here goes out there." The Romans of the
better class adopted this usage, with some modifications. Horace, in inviting Torquatus to sup with him,
assures him that it shall be his care, that among the
trusty friends invited, there may be no one who will
turn their words out of doors.2  Whether, however,
as is commonly supposed, the mutual understanding
is, that such conversations are to be sab rosa, prevents scandal, may well be doubted. He who expects that what he says is to be confidential, gives a
loose to his tongue, and allows it to range on forbidden ground, since he has no fears of being brought
to answer for words he has there spoken amiss. If,
on the contrary, he knows that which he says in
secret will be proclaimed upon the house-tops, he
will take good heed to keep clear of misrepresentation. When such confidence is clearly understood
to be reposed, or secresy is expressly enjoined, the
odium that attends a betrayal of it generally serves
to tempt people to circulate calumnnies all the more
widely in a private way, and so prevent the arrest
and exposure of the calumniator. But this usage is
not, and never has been sacredly observed by all
who frequent the best companies, and if it were, it
would be far from  preventing scandal within the
limits of those companies; so that our wisdom is,
never to say anything in the hearing of our nearest
friend that can be tortured into scandal, or if so tora21 - -     ne fidos inter amicos
Sit qui foras eliminet. Epis. 5, lib. 1.




DETRACTION AND SCANDAL.             211
tured, can injure any one's reputation, or do any
other possible damage.
Were such a rule strictly practicable, it would, it
must be owned, effect one desirable end. It would
hinder the spread of facts that are prejudicial to the
character of another. If we tell a plain and strict
verity that is derogatory to any one, the hearer is
exceedingly apt, in attempting to repeat it, to make
an untruth of it, either from carelessness, forgetfulness, ill-will, or a lying spirit. Unfavorable personal
accounts are almost always exaggerated for the
worse, while favorable ones are very seldom exaggerated for the better. We have heard many a good
deed rumored, without acquiring additional lustre,
but have known murders, as foul and cold-blooded
as they well could be, made more so by common
fame. Were an account to reach my ears reflecting
on the character of Antichrist himself, if it had no
better authority than hearsay, I would not believe it.
Having said thus much of evil speakinrg, let us
now touch upon that greatly-neglected subject, evil
hearing. We should refuse not only to repeat a fault
that is discreditable to our neighbor, but even to
hear another relate it. He who willingly listens to
evil speaking must be, and commonly is, set down as
accessory. The Psalmist David regards it as one
qualification of the man who would abide in the
tabernacle of the Lord, that he should not receive a
reproach against his neighbor; and he expostulates
with Saul for a similar offence:'" Saul, wherefore
hearest thou men's words, saying;' Behold he seeketh thy hurt.'   A statute of Valentinian and of
Valens made it death, not only to write a libel, but




212     DETRACTION AND SCANDAL.
not to tear and burn one that might be found. At
the judgment, he that heareth and he that maketh a
lie will stand on the same footing. Not only before
God, but also before the victim of scandal, are the
narrator and the approving hearer of it arraigned
for the same crime. When the injured party learns
that he listened to the calumny without showing any
signs of displeasure, even though he should not noise
it abroad, he cannot look upon such behavior as
prompted by a principle of kindness. By listening
to evil speaking one not only injures another's character, but demoralizes his own mind. The habit of
lending the ear to it, nurtures a malevolent disposition. Sir Peter Lely made it a rule never to look at
a bad picture, having found by experience that
whenever he did so, his pencil took a tint from it.
If we allow ourselves to look at every caricature of
a human creature that a malignant hand draws
and passes round the circles of society, we must
have tempers singularly happy if our own accounts
of others do not borrow some of the deformities
which have been exhibited to us.
When, however, we are forced to hear scandaland hear it we sometimes must-let us conceal the information obtruded upon us. WVhen asked whether
we have heard what is reported concerning Mr.,
Mrs., or Miss Such-a-one, let us abruptly change the
subject of conversation, or call to mind another engagement, and take leave.  If we cannot honestly
make good our escape in this direction, let us reply,
as the case may be, that we must be excused from
carrying the rumor any further, that we regret having heard a word about the affair, and with their




DETRACTION AND SCANDAL.    213
leave would prefer to say nothing on the subject;
or, that since we have not all the facts of the case,
we can offer no opinion as to it.  Some similar answers would in substance be dictated by that charity
which " rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the
truth." There are those who listen to each latest false
report with demonstrations of joy, put on knowing
airs, are positive that they have an authentic account
of the matter, and straightway set off with the speed
of an Ahimaaz, to carry it to their acquaintance.
When we are compelled, not only to hear, but
to believe a report disreputable to another, it is a
good rule to ascribe the misdeed to a good motive,
until it is found to proceed from a bad one,-dwelling on the extenuating side, suggesting that we
have grounds for humble gratitude to Almighty
God for keeping us from committing the same sinthat but for Divine grace we might be as criminal
as others, or that we should look upon it as a warning against the like temptation; or that he who
knows his own heart will not severely censure, though
he must condemn such conduct. Bad as the human
heart is, some offences may be actuated more by a
habit of evil doing than from a long-meditated purpose.  Defective notions of right, ignorance, and
even mistaken kindness, sometimes give a milder
hue to sin than they could otherwise take. Many
who are thought to wear a cloak of hypocrisy,
have only a veil upon their hearts; they do not
intend to deceive others, but are only deceiving
themselves. We would not be understood to offer
an apology for sin of any name or degree; we only
commend charitableness in making up our minds as




214      DETRACTION AND SCANDAL.
to actions the motives of which we cannot fully discern. It is likewise the part of every right-minded
man to volunteer his services, not only as the apologist, but also as the advocate, on behalf of an absent
person who is spoken against. It is but common
justice that the criminal should be allowed some
one to plead his cause, especially when he is neither
present nor informed of his trial. One of the prohibitions of the moral law is, " Thou shalt not curse
the deaf;" to which we may add, When thou hearest the deaf defamed, ears be thou to him.
The professed scandal-bearer is never seen except
as an apparition.  Most defamers suppose themselves the furthest possible from such a character.
They are in the common mistake of thinking that a
person must maliciously and industriously report
falsehoods among all their acquaintance, in order to
be deservedly branded with the name; not considering that every individual who with no evil design tells
a true but injurious account to only one of his friends,
is a tale-bearer of the common class. Let each one
carry a report but a single remove further from its
originator than it was before, and enough has been
done to send it all abroad. Yet because he is but a
single link in the chain of scandal, he absolves himself of all the blame of its transmission from one end
of the chain to the other.
Neither does he consider that scandal continually
gathers new matter as it rolls. The originator onlysuspects Mir. Such-a-one has done the deed, or hopes
he did it not; the second person believes it, or thinks
it would be in keeping with his known character to
do it; a third has no doubt about it; a fourth offers to




DETRACTION  AND SCANDAL.            215
make oath that he is worse than at first suspected.
Thus does it go on increasing both in enormity and
credibility. The apostle James exclaims, "Behold
how great a matter a little fire kindleth!  The
tongue is a fire, and setteth on fire the whole course
of nature, and is set on fire of hell."  He would
seem to liken the moral operations of scandal to
stars on fire tossing farnes to their fellows, till the
whole universe is wrapped in a conflagration; and
that, too, kindled by no extinguishable fire, but by
the unquenchable fire of hell. A report may be
only a spark and soon go out, being proved false or
having answered the design of the originator. But
before the spark expires, it kindles a fire of demnoralizing influence, which will spread in all coming
time, and a fire of guilt in multitudes of immortal
spirits, where it will rage unchecked through an
endless future.
The shafts of the calumniator often miss their
mark, and are shot back on the assailant with deadly
effect. He may expect some returns in kind —in
kind do I say? not always, for he secretly shoots his
arrows at the innocent, whereas those whom he
wounds are able to draw their arrows fiom the quiver
of truth, and send them to his guilty heart, flashing
along their course through the light of day. Every
real failing of the calumniator-and the calumniator
must have many-is proclaimed in triumph.  No
one feels it a duty to give any quarter to so pestilent
a creature. All set themselves to detect in him the
sins he lays to the charge of others, and cannot but
observe how fitly the epithets he applies to others apply to himself. He never so much as suspects that,




216     DETRACTION AND SCANDAL.
while he is taking a wicked pleasure in dissecting
his victim, the attention of some in the listening circle is fixed upon his own depravity. For my part I
must own that of all the vituperative talkers I have
ever heard, who did their best to make their victims
appear odious to me, I have never met with one who
was able, with all his volubility, to prove others to
be half so bad as himself.
How graphic is that declaration of the Psalmist
concerning wicked talkers: " Their throat is an open
sepulchre."  When an oriental sepulchre is opened,
it pours forth an intolerable odor; and if it is neglected, it becomes at length the common shelter of every
beggar, demoniac, beast, or reptile, that chances that
way.
Evil speaking is the occupation of the ignorant,
who, having nothing else to talk about, bring forward the imperfections of their fellow worms; and
of idlers also, who, as they are commonly great talkers, and of course soon exhausting every lawful
theme, must feed their loquacity with the reputations
of their neighbors. When a conscientious man has
cast about him for an innocent or profitable topic in
vain, he holds his peace. Like the diluvian dove,
after having flown abroad over the shoreless waters,
and found nothing but carcasses whereon to perch, he
stretches his wings towards the ark. He had rather
be thought taciturn and haughty, than prey upon the
vices of mankind. The common opinion that women
are more addicted to this vice than men, is not without some foundation; the Romans set up in the
forum the statue of a lioness without a tongue, in
memory of a woman who had been distinguished for




DETRACTION AND SCANDAL.             217
reserve. From the epistles of Paul it appears that
the unmarried women of his times were given to idleness and gossiping. "They learn," says he, " to be
idle, wandering about from house to house; and not
only idle, but busy-bodies, speaking things which
they ought not." He would have pious young widows return to the perils and cares of the marriage
condition to prevent their becoming mischief-makers,
ind that, too, in a persecuting age when married
disciples were especially exposed to domestic affliction. The apostle's admonition was not intended for
his own age alone; it was meant for our age as well.
The curse of multitudes of modern women in every
class of society is idleness, which, coupled as it ever
must be with ignorance, brings them into frequent
conference, in which they retail personal news, and
offer their speculations upon it. But as we cannot
hope that many females of this character will take
the trouble to read these pages, we drop the subject;
only adding, by way of counsel to any gossip whose
vacant eye chances to fall on these words: -Find
some projitable occupation for your mind. We do
not offer this advice as the best that can be given,
but merely as the best she is at present prepared to
receive.
It is sometimes best to silence a detractor by turning his own weapons against him, pleasantly observing that we shall expect him to keep himself innocent of the fault he so much dislikes in another, or
something of this sort. When a lad once addressed
Pope Eugenio IV. a speech which, for gravity and
wisdom, much exceeded his years, Cardinal Angelotto, who was very fond of taking something from
K




218     DETRACTION AND SCANDAL.
every merit, hearing the audience praise the oration,
said: "It is common for young persons who are endowed with premature talents to fall into early decay
of parts." "Then, my lord Cardinal," replied the
lad, "you must have had very extraordinary talents
when you were young."
A pure imagination is a faculty ill which detractors are wanting, most prodigiously wanting. This
faculty is as important to the conversationist as it is
to the historian. When a person quotes a remark
of another, or speaks of his conduct, the hearer who
would judge impartially, must have the power to
transport himself to the spot where the report originated. A foul imagination is barren of everything
but the criminating idea, while a well-purged imnagination delights in beautifying every event with its
circumstances, and thus tells more truth than the
half-facts of your flat-headed maligners.
Ridicule may amount to detraction, and often
does. Its wont is to skip over the virtues and abilities of a man, and pounce upon his imperfections
and infirmities. Nay, but is it not the end of ridicule to laugh us out of vice or folly?  Would it
always were. We are afraid it has laughed a good
many out of virtue and wisdom —not merely out of
reputation for these qualities, but out of the qualities
themselves.
We have somewhere met the remark, that the most
rigid code of morality might be compiled from
what we expect others to say and do regarding ourselves; and, on the other hand, the most lax of all
possible laws of virtue would be supplied by putting
into a system the palliations and excuses which we




DETRACTION AND SCANDAL.             219
make for our own deficiences in speech and conduct
towards others.
Thrice and nine times happy they who always feel
such an inward good-will to their kind, as makes it
needless to set a watch upon their lips. These are
they whose goodness of heart renders circumspection
a sheer superfluity-a very standing army in time of
peace. If some people forbear evil speaking, it
seems to be more from prudence and caution than
from  any compassion for the person spared.  The
sepulchre is locked, because a carcass is within.
This sort of gentry have an excellent ear for scandal,
and are the sole abettors of those who, in this way,
break the peace of society. It is a wonder, that of
the great cloud of preachers that have made their
moan over the sin of evil speaking, so few have lamented the sin of evil hearing. It is time we had
all made up our minds not to listen to a story that is
not to the advantage of the person of whom it is related.




CHAPTER  XII.
INTERROGATIONS.
THE questioner, like the rack, serves for the destruction of an innocent person who has a feeble constitution, and for the deliverance of a criminal who
is naturally robust. Some people put one to the torture by their searching queries; if he has a brazen
face and supple address, possibly they may not prevent his keeping his own matters to himself; but if he
is ingenuous, or has a babbling countenance, they
will rummage all his personal affairs, and leave him
with scarce a thought he can call his own. If he
attempts to conceal his mind by closing his lips, they
discover it through the eye, the blush, or the mien.
And the more meek he is, the more must he suffer;
for as he does not complain of the cruelties of the
inquisition, his tormentors are not softened by any
touches of compassion.
Forasmuch as practical Christians are sometimes
accused of impertinence, they should aim to keep
clear of just grounds for the imputation by a moderate use of interrogations, in their expostulations with
unbelievers. There are, to be sure, multitudes who
are not nettled by inquiries as to their moral and religious principles, and verily, men of the world ought
to account such questionings as the strongest possible




INTERROGATIONS.                  221
expressions of good will.  They are not displeased
with those who inquire after their temporal prosperity; why then should they be so with those who
express a kind concern for their eternal well-being i
Most of those who put on airs of surprise when they
are thus interrogated, are the votaries of fashion and
pleasure, and persons of superlative effeminacy.
Without questioning such, we may take for granted
that they are of this or that character, and address
them  accordingly.  If we mistake their principles,
they will generally set us right.
To question us, is the privilege of a superior or
equal, rather than of an inferior; though the latter
may oftentimes beg the liberty to do so.  It is
proper for a king to interrogate his subjects, but etiquette forbids them to question him.  The child or
the pupil is allowed to question his parent or his
instructor, when the question indicates a laudable
desire for information. Members of the learned professions may be as inquisitive as they please, so they
do not go beyond their vocation. It is so much their
business to interrogate, that they are peculiarly liable
to form a habit of pumping every body on all subjects indiscriminately. A question that springs from
contempt or superciliousness, is improper, come from
whom it may.
The Abbe Delille is of the opinion that a friend
alone has a right to interrogate.22  Though we cannot agree with this high authority in holding that
22 Questionne toujours, et rarement 6coute
Oubliant que ce ton 16ger
Daus un estrauger est blamable
Et que l'amitie seule a droit d'interroger.




222           INTE RROGATIONS.
this is the exclusive privilege of friendship, we must
admit that fast friends and intimate acquaintance
may question another more freely than others; but
at the same time it should be considered that even
friends and familiars are capable of being impatient
under oft-repeated and irrelevant queries.
It is not proper to ask strangers questions about
themselves or their affairs. Inasmuch as we must,
after all, be very ignorant of their history, if we once
begin there is no telling where we shall end. It is
expected that a stranger will, without solicitation,
tell us all that is proper for us to know concerning
himself. Should he chance to be a person whose
fame ought to have reached us beforehand, our questions would be most inopportune. There are enlightened people who might learn something on this point
from the savages of the West. When a stranger
visits their villages no one asks his business, and he
is allowed his own time to tell the object of his mission. We should never ask a stranger what is his
vocation, or that of any of his relatives and friends.
The tribe of indiscreet and careless questioners is
a very numerous one. Many bolt out the first query
that happens to be uppermost, without considering
whether it is suitable to the person, time or place.
The behavior of others may excite our curiosity or
surprise when it would be intrusive to inquire about
it, as for instance to ask people where they are going,
or what they hold in their hands. When _zEsop replied to one who asked him what he was doing with
a lighted candle by day, " I seek a man," some have
supposed that he intended to signify that men are
scarce in the world.  Phmdrus, the fabulist, says




INTERROGATIONS.               223
he meant to intimate to the inquirer that it is unmanly to ask impertinent questions.  Dr. Johnson
once handled such a querist in his usual gruff manner. A gentleman asked him; " Have you been
abroad to-day?" " Don't talk so childishly, sir," he
replied, "you may as well ask if I had hanged myself."
Others betake themselves to interrogations as a
kind of apology for their indolence. Unwilling to
think or to consult books, they ask your opinion of a
subject or beg of you a little item of information,
like mendicants gathering their daily meals from the
crumbs given at their neighbor's doors. Else, perhaps, they are persons of sluggish minds or little
knowledge, and desire to be amused, and try to start
you off upon an entertaining theme by spurring you
with a thousand questions in slow succession.
Others again ask questions from vanity. By an
artful construction of their questions they would
have us know that they are men of genius, or wisdorn, or learning, or they would convict us of folly,
or ignorance, or stupidity. It is hardly in the power
of poor human nature to receive such questions with
thankfulness. aWe cannot wonder that the Athenians should have contracted a mortal animosity towards Socrates, when we consider that the philosopher went about among them to convince them of
their ignorance and of his knowledge of his own ignorance. A modest question is betimes a good vehicle for conveying information or our opinion to
those who would be offended with a dogmatical assertion. It may also be aptly used to assist the
memory of others.




224           INTERROGAT I O NS.
Those who ask questions on purpose to make a
show of their talents or knowledge, are not to be
numbered among those who honestly ask for information. Querists of this description deserve to be,
and generally are, answered with respect. A great
many live and die in the grossest ignorance for no
other reason than that they deem it beneath their
dignity to ask for information.  When some one
asked John Locke how he had contrived to acquire
his multifarious knowledge, he replied: " By condescending to ask questions."  It is a mark of affability to solicit instruction from those who have less
general learning and culture, but a better practical
knowledge of some matters than we. Yet it were
unwise uniformly to suggest to people their business
as matter of discourse. If we do, they suspect that
we think them ignorant of everything else. When
we wish information from a professional man, artisan,
or man of business, we should go to his office; at
any rate, seek some private interview. But in parties, men are to be talked with as if they had always
lived as idle as the lilies of the field, or at least as
those who have for the time, laid aside the habits and
thoughts which are peculiar to their calling.  By
dragging back their thoughts to the round of daily toil
we run the risk of beclouding their cheerfulness, and
if we mention their vocation within ear-shot of strangers, we may expose them to mortification, or make
them more conspicuous than their modesty approves.
Still, however, many persons of limited knowledge
wisely prefer to talk on subjects with which they are
thoroughly acquainted; and if their ideas cluster
around their daily duties-which is no great crime




INTERROGATIONS.               225
surely-they ought to be allowed to contribute something to their own entertainment.  If they do as
much as this, they will not fall below the average,
who talk more for their individual amusement than
for any other purpose.
Some absent-minded people have a habit of asking
questions without staying for an answer; or if they
do stay, their inattention shows that they make no
account of it. Others edge in questions so trivial as
not to admit of a serious reply, or so remote from the
matter in hand as to indicate how far the mind of the
questioner has been wandering during our remarks.
Few are adepts in the art of bringing in a respectful
and relevant question. An interrogation may sometimes be a happy substitute for an expression of assent, or show that we take a lively interest in the
conversation.
Ingenuous people are never too inquisitive with
their eyes and ears; they do not glance, and ogle,
and leer with nice and crafty sagacity; they are
not akin to those persons who retire a little from the
talkative circle with seeming bashfulness, that their
ears may stealthily take in, and lay up every untimely word. Their vicinity oppresses and emnbarrasses one. We are, to be sure, counselled to be
swift to hear, and slow to speak, but must we then go
into company in the quality of eave-droppers and
spies? The sharp-sighted and the -quick-eared do not
acquaint themselves with characters quite so readily
as they imagine; being ever suspected, they discover
next to nothing. Common patience and attention
will put us in possession of all that is worth knowing
of humlan nature. Mlost people, if we but give them




226            INTERROGATIONS.
time, will, unasked, tell us everything that is creditable to themselves: they do not need to be incited
to speak in their own praise, and questions are not
likely to wring from them a confession of their faults.
Their vices may not concern us; if they do, we shall
learn them by inclining our ear a little while to their
self-laudations: those who can praise themselves
are not too nice to boast of their vices.
Uncourteous as it is to ask many unnecessary questions, it is more uncourteous to take umbrage at them.
It is unworthy of a man to fly into a passion because
a stranger, who has lost his way, is forced to ask several questions in order to learn his whereabouts and
whither he should turn his steps, or because some one
has mind enough to wish a little definite knowledge
of a subject which others are vaguely talking about.
There are plenty of people who discourse with wonderful confidence on almost all questions, and yet think
the man very shallow who asks them to explain a
point which he confesses he does not understand,
and which in fact they do not themselves understand, but have not sagacity enough to discover their
own ignorance of it. It would take a great many
questions, and them very uncivilly asked, to fluster
a true Christian gentleman, or to leave such an imrnpression on his memory as to move him afterwards to
complain daintily of the impertinences he has suffered.
It is a rudeness, all the world over, to snarl at the rudeness of others. The real man of honor will treat effrontery with magnanimous indifference, as the Emperor Theodosius did those who cursed hiim. " If," said
he, " it be uttered in levity, it is to be despised; if in
madness, to be pitied; if in malice, to be forgiven."




CHAPTER XIII.
EGOTISM  AND BOASTING.
A MODERN popular writer, describing the attributes
of a gentleman, goes out of his way to say that selfillustration distinguishes modern professors of religion, and seems all but inseparably connected with
the Christian character.  This assertion has been
quoted with admiration by other writers, and has
been extensively read. It is too contemptuous to be
quoted literally, and too glaringly untrue to need a
labored refutation.
Every evangelized man must be less proud and
vain than lie was in the days of his impenitence.
Whoever has witnessed the encounters of grace and
truth with original pride, could not have failed to
observe how strongly it is intrenched in the soul, and
what lowliness follows its subjugation. The Christian enters the Church, forswearing allegiance to the
prince of this world-confessing that his loyalty to
hinm was the result of his own corruption and follyperforming an act of humiliation in his baptism,
avowing that henceforth his soul and body, and all
his possessions and services belong to Another. He
forsakes his own wisdom, and gives himself up to a
Divine Director; he laments the imperfection that
yet remains in his heart in spite of renewing and




228       EGOTISM  AND BOASTING.
sanctifying grace. If he talks often and earnestly of
religious subjects, it is to magnify the Power that
saves him, and to ascribe all his virtues to His unmerited gifts. If he is better than his neighbor, it is
because his earthly nature has partaken of the Divine
nature.  "One day," says Saadi, the Persian fabulist, "a friend of mine put into my hand a piece of
scented clay. I took it, and said to it,'Art thou
musk or ambergris? for I am charmed with thy perfume.' It answered,'I was once a despicable piece
of clay; but I was some time in the company of the
rose, and the quality of my sweet companion was
communicated to me; otherwise I should only be a
bit of clay as I appear to be.' "'23 Of this spirit is
always and everywhere the confession of the Christian. The virtues others ascribe to him, he traces,
not to his own nature, not to his own exertions, but
to the companionship of the Holy Ghost. In the
words of Paul, he says, " By the grace of God I am
what I am." If this be self-praise, let not a single
human being be guiltless of it-no, not one.
That there is no vanity to be found among Christians, they are themselves ever ready to deny; that
there is less of it among them  than among people
of the world must be, if they are at all actuated by
the humbling principles that are peculiar to their
religion.  Even where they manifest any disposition to self-glozing, the things on which they value
themselves are intrinsically excellent, and are superior to the qualities which the world is accustomed
to make its boast. There is more of virtue in tthis
fault of the Christian, than in the best qualities of
2s Gulistan ol Rose Garden, by Saadi.




EGOTISM  AND BOASTING.             229
the man of the world.   The gleaning of the grapes
of Ephraim, is better than the vintage of Abiezer."
We cannot with strict propriety speak of ourselves,
except when we relate simple matters of fact, without exaggeration or ostentation.  When the fact
stated reflects credit upon ourselves, neither our
motive nor our manner can entirely save us from
being suspected of vanity.  "The accuser of the
brethren" will never lack a pretext for plying the
scourge of the tongue. The Christialln is sometimes
accused of egotism in describing what he has done
instrumentally for the enlargement of the church,
and the evangelization of the world. When duty
calls on us to speak of the achievements of grace in
connection with our own labors or charities, we cannot speak with too much modesty of the part we bore
in the work. And in relating our religious experience
we are to exercise especial caution. "'Be ready,"
says Peter, " always to give an answer to every one
who asketh you a reason of the hope that is in you,
with meekness and fear."  It is worth remarking,
that the sacred writer directs us to give an answer
to those who ctsk us concerning our hope. It is not
wise to obtrude our frames upon the attention of
unconverted men. We should not lay open our
holy experiences to those who manifest no serious
interest in such matters. And, as we remarked in a
former chapter, we are to do this duty in a spirit of
meekness and reverence-not in a pragmatical waynot citing our own experience as an undeniable fact in
support of our assertions- not with an air of superiority or triumph over the unconverted enquirer. We
are also counselled to handle the subject with rever



230       EGOTISM AND BOASTING.
ence. Some professors are sadly remiss in this particular. They prattle of the Divine Spirit, regeneration, faith, and hope, in a bold or familiar tone,
without awe, or humility, or contrition, or any feeling of the kind. Mfany are driven to this extreme
in the attempt to show the error of' those who stand
at such a reverent distance from Christianity as to
lose sight of her altogether, and regard the Lord
Jesus in much the same light as Epicurus did the
gods of the heathen —as deserving our reverence,
indeed, but as quite above having anything to do
with the affairs of mortals. True veneration is so,
far from concealing its object, that by a sort of selfannihilation, it makes it sublimely conspicuous. As
subjects pay the lowliest homage to their king when
they are in the royal presence, so those reverence
God most profoundly who habitually feel the conviction of His presence; and they never do more to
bring the thoughts of God into his own world, than
when they speak of and worship Him with holy and
humble awe.
But it is more to the present purpose to remark
that there is a case where in speaking of ourselves it
is allowable to go beyond strict narration and employ argument; it is in self-vindication. If we are
known never to speak in our own defence but when
we are driven to it, we shall not be suspected of
vanity. When Paul is maligned by false teachers
at Corinth, who have drawn after them some of his
converts, he comes reluctantly to his own defence,
and by way of apology for doing so, says, "I am
become a fool in glorying; ye have compelled me:
for I ought to have been commended of you."  We




EGOTISM  AND BOASTING.            231
should see to it that we do not defend ourselves with
too much spirit. People suspect that he must have
a vulnerable part, who makes too vigorous a resistance. It were better to make a calm and unconcerned statement of our claim to the confidence of
others, with a very brief denial of the, charges of
our adversary.
We should not seek a reputation for humility by
always daintily avoiding the pronoun I. The writers
of Port Royal were so disgusted with the common
practice among authors of speaking in the first person, that they uniformly shunned it as savoring of
self conceit. But it may be questioned whether here
as elsewhere, those excellent men did not somewhat
overstrain the law of Christian lowliness. Pascal, the
greatest of them, in some of his sublimnest records of
his own contrite experience and Christian hope, and
heroic independence of the Vatican, uses, in forgetfulness of the maxim, the obnoxious I; and yet the
word neither betrays pride nor assumption. The
substitution of another and circuitous and impersonal
phrase would destroy the verisimilitude, dignity,
and point of the remarks. It is to his fragmentary
" Thougyts8" that we refer. It is not, then, the use of
this part of speech which makes a man an egotist,
but the feeling which prompts its utterance, as indicated by the connection and the tone. It is not impossible to covet the name of humility at the expense
of almost every virtue. One may have such a horror
of pride as to make him omit many duties, and to
make him remiss in many more. A false humility,
or in the world's parlance a false modesty, is as criminal and offensive as pride: for it is but pride in




232       EGOTISM  AND BOASTING.
disguise. Pride need not prompt the frequent use
of this pronoun: on the other hand, egotism in the
first degree is often perpetrated where there is a
careful avoidance of it; and in general, he who
makes a show of great pains to keep aloof from a
fault, does thereby declare that he knows himself to
be addicted to it. Some of the vainest of mortals
are often heard to say,  "without boasting,"-" I do
not like to praise myself," —' Pardon me for speaking of myself."  Again, there are very humble characters, who never use this kind of: apologetical
phrases. Let us beware of words; nothing is more
common than to be misled by them.
Egotism consists in needlessly and voluntarily obtruding one's self or affairs on the attention of others.
Nothing is more difficult than to determine whether
a person is an egotist on the whole, for he may be
very egotistical as to one thing and very humble as to
another. The egotist does not always eulogize himself directly. He may make you his father-confessor,
and acknowledge to you a fault or habit that is exceedingly dishonorable to him-"- he cannot help it;
it is his way."  Perhaps he has resolved at all hazards to take a prominent part in conversation; even
though it be at the expense of his character and the
comfort of the company. Else he talks of his faults
in order to demonstrate his sincerity or some other
virtue. " He is none of your dissemblers: he must
tell you all." Another confesses his crimes on purpose to show us his shrewdness, tact or courage in
committing them, in escaping detection or punishment; or the generosity or high-mindedness with
which he made amends for them; thus does he




EGOTISM  AND BOASTING.            233
glory in his shame. Vainglory is to be expected
from the ignorant, who rarely allow their minds to
be transported beyond themselves. If we forbid
them to descant on that all-absorbing theme-themselves, we seal their lips; but there is less apology
for those whose intelligence ought to have taught
them, at least, the appearance of humility, and who
have matter for unpersonal discourse. On a subject
in which others cannot bear a part, our words should
be few —one's self is a subject of this description.
Yet there are multitudes who talk incessantly about
themselves whether anybody gives ear or not, and
keep up as much of a soliloquy as if they were in
solitude-nay more of one; for solitude might give
back an echo, but their company returns none. TWe
can say a great deal about ourselves if we once
fairly set out, yet it is a topic on which it would be
difficult for another to speak, even did we give him
a chance. Our talk must therefore necessarily degenerate into monologue, and when it has come to
this, we may as well bid our listeners good night,
for they must needs have grown sleepy. It might
be said of the subject of self what the epicure said
of the haunch of venison, "It is too much for one,
yet not enough for two."
Almost every circle is blessed with the egotist, who
exercises a kind of dictatorship over it. Are you in
a mistake as to a matter of fact? He cannot suffer
you to proceed till you are corrected. Have you a
word on the end of your tongue? He at once comes
to your relief.  Do you talk bad grammar?  He
quotes rules and gives examples like a pedagogue.
Does he discover that there is a link wanting in the




234       EGOTISM  AND BOASTING.
chain of your argument? He bids you stay till he
has supplied it. Do you drop a word to which he
has devoted much research? LIe asks you whether
you know its primitive signification, and straightway
inflicts on the circle a long philological disquisition.
When you relate an incident which you suppose new
and affecting, your friend listens without emotion.
When you have done, lie observes that he heard the
same, long ago, and adds a very material circumstance which you omitted. He is never taken by
surprise, and it is impossible to give him any information. And yet he never takes the lead in conversation, nor advances an original thought.  It is his
business to come after and pick up the words which
others let slip in a running talk, or to check their
impetuosity that he may point out to them their missteps. Had he lived in the days of Solomon, he would
have flattered the royal sage with the intimation that
some of his proverbs were but plagiarisms; or, had
he been a contemporary of Solomon's father, would
have felt himself bound to give the slayer of Goliath
some lessons on the use of the sling, and hinted to
the Sweet Singer of Israel his private opinion, that
the shepherd bard did not perfectly understand the
use of the harp.
It is egotistical to be perpetually talking about
one's relatives, or friends, or associates. The comnmoion run of fathers and mothers have an abundance
of stories to tell of the exploits and speeches of their
dear children, which, entertaining, as they may be to
themselves, must necessarily be tedious to every
body else, or redolent of the nursery, and savoring
strongly of pinafores.




EGOTISM  AND BOASTING.               235
Others speak largely of their former youthful acquaintance with literature and science, now drifted
away into oblivion so entirely as to have left no
traces on their style of thinking or talking; and
which remind one of the gentleman who boasted before Johnson of the knowledge he once had of Greek,
though now lost.  "Lost," said the stern moralist,
" in the same year, probably, when I lost my great
estates in Gloucestershire."'
Others talk of their relatives in a strain of lamentation, or of deprecation. There is a great deal of
sly satire in the conduct of that prince of travellers,
Capt. Lemuel Gulliver, on his return from Bobdingnag, the land of giants. He now thought the sailors
of his own country the most contemptible creatures
he ever beheld. He looked upwards, and spoke to
his own family in a very high tone, and regarded
them as mere pigmies. It would be well for every
traveller to read Swift's book immediately on his return home, or at least before he sends the journal of
his adventures to his publisher. We could here, if
we so pleased, be more than usually tedious in enumerating the many advantages which he might count
upon deriving fiom such perusal.  But he must pardon us if we relieve his patience by cutting the matter short; only adding, that some men are formed to
become by travel like telescopes. They are pulled
out to the most extraordinary proportions; and it
takes the rest, it may be, of their lives, for their old
neighbors to succeed in shutting up the elongated
worthy into his narrow and natural dimensions.
24 The conversation of the intelligent, observing, and well-bred traveller is delightful. He harbors no narrow prejudices in favor of his




236          EGOTISM AND BOASTING.
There are two sorts of egotists, who are fond of impressing you with the high rank they hold in society.
The one tells you that the  distinguished  Mr. Eminence is his old friend, and that he is of such a set.
This is the magniloquence of footmen. The other
takes care to inform  you that he don't know  the obscure Mr. Lowly, and never has anything to do with
that class of people. Niow we must not only "be
courteous," but the Apostle adds, " pitiful" —willing
to hold familiar and sympathizing  communion with
the obscure and forgotten part of our species —willing
to forget one's great self in bringing courage, hope,
and joy to the stricken spirit, and the broken  heart.
The maxim of associating only with one's superiors
or equals, is one of the most foolish and hurtful
of vulgar errors: it contradicts every precept of the
Gospel, and every feeling of humanity. Of what
possible use to society are impudence and contempt,
and the behavior they prompt?   We  have  a great
own or a foreign land. He neither nourishes in his own countrymen
a blind and conceited fondness for their own institutions, nor by indiscriminate praise of everything foreign, stirs up their patriotism. His
judgment of the persons and places he has seen, is not formed on his
own observations alone; he modestly quotes the opinions of other travellers, and gives his reasons for agreeing with, or differing from them.
He does not pronounce hastily or confidently upon anything that he
has merely glanced at in passing. Neither does he mix foreign phrases
with his talk, nor give foreign proper names the foreign pronunciation,
preferring the vernacular idiom of any other animal to the brayings
of the travelled hybrid.  He is careful to keep clear of imported
manners, airs, and habits. The young traveller is prone to suppose
that good breeding is only to be cultivated abroad, and wholly neglects his manners till lle begins to travel, when it has come to be too
late to acquire them anywhere.  After a flying tour through Europe,
he returns, imagining he is bringing all its elegance along with him.




EGOTISaM  AND  BOASTING.             23-7
liking for the motto used by Charles Brandon, on the
occasion of his marriage with the queen at a tournament; the trappings of his horse being half cloth of
gold and half frize.
"Cloth of gold do not despise,
Though thou art matched with cloth of frize;
Cloth of frize be not too bold,
Though thou art matched with cloth of gold.'
Egotism has sometimes been attributed to those
who speak their own names in the same breath with
those of the great.  Shakspeare makes Cardinal
Wolsey say, "I and my king." This is not historically true.  In the record of the State Trials, the
charge is, that he joined himself with the king in
speaking and writing of state affairs; as " the king
and I give you our hearty thanks." This is not quite
so bad, though it is egotistical enough, and should
warn us against mentioning our own actions along
with those of our betters.
There is an extreme of modesty which the great
alone can manifest with propriety, or rather in whom
alone it is a virtue. For an obscure person to forget
his fame, is to forget just nothing at all; whereas,
for a man of renown to forget his renown is held to be
a sort of prodigy and a sure mark of greatness. The
man of low rank, who was elected chief magistrate
of Aberdeen, and who, while receiving the congratulations of his friends, laid his hands upon his breast,
and very emphatically declared that cfter all he was
but a mnortal man, showed pride and ignorance
enough to sink any city in Christendom.
Nobody so completely puts himself into the power




238       EGOTIS-M  AND BOASTING.
of flatterers as the egotist; for, by proclaiming his
master passion at once, he informs them how they
may best manage him. This is especially the case
when it consists in pride of wisdom, which is, of all
mental diseases, the most difficult to cure, inasmuch
as the disease lays hold of the remedy itself.
A man must have a reputation for singular veracity, who is believed to mean what he says when
he runs down himself. Pride is so rife in the world,
that a man cannot appear to be really humble without being suspected of being a hypocrite. Seeing
one will be alike thought proud whether he speaks
for or against himself, his only safety is silently to
turn his back upon himself, and this he may do without the slightest incivility.
We have been speaking of general society. Among
one's intimate friends, it is allowable to speak of
what concerns ourselves, so it interests them also.
]Nay, even in public we may speak of such of our
good qualities and advantages as the world notoriously attributes to us.
They commit a like impropriety who talk much of
subjects pertaining to their profession, or business, or
amusements. It savors of selfishness, if not of vanity, to be ever harping upon one's daily employments, and to allow such themes to swallow up those
that are of general interest. A magistate once gave
Dr. Johnson a long, tedious account of his exercising
his criminal jurisdiction, the result of which was his
having sentenced four convicts to transportation.
The doctor, in an agony of impatience to get rid of
such a companion, exclaimed: " I heartily wish, sir,
that I were a fifth." The writer, at this moment,




EGOTISM  AND BOASTING.            239
recollects having one evening called at the residence
of a lawyer who entertained him till a late hour with
a very circumstantial account of a petty case soon to
come on, which the writer had never heard of before.
Who was finally cast in the suit he has never since
taken the trouble to inquire.
Authors of poems, orations, and other literary productions, should very seldom consent to read them in
company. Now and then one of those who beg theim
to do so may really wish to hear their productions
read; but authors should consider that such readings
will, in all likelihood, be tiresome to those present
who are unlettered; and to those of the lettered, who
are not wont to go into company in quest of what
they have already in their libraries.  They should
also consider whether the request is not made merely
as a compliment to them. An emphatic caution is
needful on this point, for the temptations to these
readings are multiform  and strong. We know an
instance of a poet who recited his numbers before a
company who heard with nnmeasured applause till
the genius had retired, when they expressed their
mutual surprise that he should be so mad as to imagine that to be poetry. Cases of this kind are by no
means rare. Even the Abbe Delille, who has obliged
all coming generations with a charming poemn on
conversation, is known to have been overtaken in
this fault, though he rebukes it in his verse. When
the Abbe and Robert Hall were one day dining at
Sir James Mackintosh's, one who was present says
that the Abb6 took up all the time in repeating his
verses, and that MBr. Hall did not even speak. Sir
James put in a word of approbation now and then,




240      EGOTISM  AND BOASTING.
and the day was marred; but the Abbe was gratified,
and Sir.ames and Mr. Hall were pleased for that
reason. I detail this incident because it occurs to
me as an admonitory example under this head, and
not as an instance of unpardonable inconsistency; he
must be the teacher of a scanty morality who acts up
to his own instructions in every particular.
Men of letters must be warned against talking exclusively on literature in mixed companies. Even if
they confine themselves strictly to their mother
tongue, it is not to be borne with.  Many an excellent woman has listened to the jargon of literati, thinking, in the words of MIrs. Teresa Panza,
"Though I cannot read a jot, I can spin." Not a
few men think that a knowledge of books is far from
comprising all the useful information in the worldmen, too, who can think and talk well on themes entertaining to all, and who have been so annoyed by
bibliomaniacs, that they could almost wish that another Omar might rise and burn all the books in Germany.
Nor should scholars expose to the company the
ignorance of persons they are talking with, except
when it is likely to lead to some bad consequences.
Neither should they boast of vanquishing in argument a person of shallow intellect or scanty knowledge. TWe should not draw our sword on the weak;
if we do, let us, above all things, be ashamed to
plume ourselves on having worsted them.
It is not advisable to praise very highly brethren
of our own persuasion. TWere others to know that
our panegyrics were prompted by fraternal affection
and an admiration of eminent virtues, they might




EGOTISM  AND BOASTING.            241
hear them gladly, but a malicious world is ever ready
to surmise that they are dictated by vanity or bigotry. When duty calls upon us, as it sometimes
does, to speak of the piety of a brother, it is beautiful to attribute it to a Divine origin. Paul, speaking
of the liberality of his converts, wrote to the church
of Corinth in these words: " Brethren, we make
known to you the grace of God bestowed on the
churches of Macedonia." And Peter speaks of Paul
as writing "according to the wisdom given unto
him."  We hear an abundance of eulogiums on distinguished Christians, with no mention of the fact
that God made them all they were or could have
been. It is taking nothing from the merits of the
most illustrious mnortal, to acknowledge that he is the
creature of the KIing of kings.
Genuine humility is a scarce virtue, and is to be
discovered only by the most diligent search. The
most of us meet with it so rarely, that when we do,
we know not what to call it. But all of us can, and
often do, detect pride in our neighbors, and never so
easily as when it clashes with our own. In proportion as they exalt themselves they wound our pride
by denying our pretensions, or inflaming our jealousy.
If they conceal their small excellences they excite
our curiosity, and lead us to set a high value on what
it costs us so much to gain a sight of, but if they
force them on our eyes we naturally close themn. He
who does his duty well and says nothing about it,
will win the good-will of his fellow-men, and this is
worth a great deal more than their applause.
Self-praise occasionally succeeds with  ignorant
and credulous persons: very seldom with those who
L




242      EGOTISM AND BOASTING.
have much knowledge of the world. He who can
make a discerning mind think more highly of him
for what he says of himself, must, without doubt, be
a person of unusual ability and address. He must
deserve all the praise he bestows on himself: for successful self-praise is the last triumph of genius.




CHAPTER XIV.
ANECDOTES AND STORIES.
THE charms and benefits of conversation somewhat
depend on the proper use of anecdotes. The best
conversers know how well they serve to enliven, illustrate and prove their remarks-and they not often
fail to recall one pertinent to their purpose. Still it
requires an exact perception of character and a cultivated taste to relate anecdotes with the best effect;
and useful as hints on this subject may prove, they
cannot supply the lack of a quick discovery of analogies, and a ready attention to circumstances of person, time and place.
Our first care should be to relate no anecdote
which has a bad tendency, or is in the most remote
degree associated with immodesty, blasphemy, or a
derision of religion. Instances are not wanting, of
professors who have in unguarded moments told
anecdotes illustrative of wicked character, which,
though designed to dissuade from vice, have served
but to hang new pictures in the galleries of depraved
ilnaginations; those who heard them cannot forget
them if they would: each attempt to erase them
from the memory has only fixed them more deeply
there. When some one offered to teach Themistocles
the art of remembering, he replied that he preferred




244       ANECDOTES AND STORIES.
to learn the art of forgetting. In one application of
that art we are all proficients; in another none are;
we find no difficulty in making an oblivion of the
good, but we find it well-nigh impossible to forget
the evil.
Again, there are anecdotes and stories which,
though not exceptionable in themselves, become so
when told in certain companies, and within earshot
of certain individuals. It is not permissible to tell
an anecdote reflecting on a denomination when members of it are present; or illustrative of the bad manners, morals, or condition of a country, when a native of it is one of the company; in a word, it is
always unsafe, when we are thrown among strangers,
to speak to the prejudice of any nation, sect, or person. It is a Spanish proverb, often, though not too
often quoted, " that we should not talk of halters in
the house of a man whose father was hanged." Accordingly, we should not describe a death-bed scene
to one who is sick or bereaved, nor talk of bankrupts
with those who have failed, nor of family quarrels
with those who are not happy in their domestic connections. Full many a story that is told in society is
pointed with a moral which secretly pierces some
heart which has already bled too freely. We know
Solomon has said, "The words of the wise are as
nails and as goads "-they have point; but at the
same time the wise are wary, lest their words wound
where they were designed only to excite.
Long stories are of singular efficacy in hastening
business, and especially in inducing sleep. Two
ambassadors of Perugia went to Rorne, and, on being
admitted to the Pope, who was sick abed, one of




ANECDOTES AND STORIES.            245
them went through with a long, tedious narration, of
which the Pope showed signs of dislike. Then the
second said, 1" Most Holy Father, our commission
directs that if your Beatitude will not suddenly despatch us with satisfaction, my colleague should recommence his speech, and pronounce it again more
leisurely." The Pope was so much pleased with this
remark, that he gave order they should be presently
despatched. Sir William Temple says there used to
be tale-tellers in Scotland, whose business it was to
lull restless travellers to sleep at the inns with their
humdrum  stories about giants and dwarfs. Even
short stories, told and told again, are equally soporific. Doddington one day falling asleep in the
company of Sir Richard Temple, Lord Cobham, and
several others, one of the party reproached him with
his drowsiness. He replied that he could repeat all
Lord Cobham had been saying. Cobham challenged
him to do so. Doddington repeated a story, and
Cobham  owned he had been telling it. "Well,"
said Doddington, " and yet I did not hear a word of
it; I went to sleep because I knew that about this
time of day you would tell that story."
The best anecdotes come short of their intended
effect when those to whom they are told are preoccupied, or are in circumstances unfavorable to attention.  In most large companies, they are out of
place.  The variety of objects which engage the
mind in such places expose one to frequent interruptions: here the talk must necessarily be of a ramnbling kind. If an anecdote is ever introduced, only
the gist or moral is to be given, taking for granted
that listeners either know or can supply particulars.




246      ANECDOTES AND STORIES.
Neither should we undertake to tell long stories while
we are travelling among attractive scenery, especially
at the settingo out.
We ought never to relate an anecdote with a view
to eclipse one just related, or to show we can tell the
most laughable or marvellous one. If we follow the
anecdote of another with a story of our own, it should
be purely for the purpose of establishing its truth or
adding to its force.
When a person is illustrating a principle by an anecdote, and purposes to make additional remarks on
the same principle, it is not proper to break in upon
him by saying, " that reminds me of another anecdote"-one perhaps that has little bearing on the
subject, and, when related, reminds another person of
an anecdote still more alien to the matter in hand,
and so leading off till the original point is lost sight
of altogether.
It is not worth while to correct an inaccuracy in a
statement, not material to the point in question, or,
when the narrator has done, to give the circle an
amended and improved edition of it, at the same
time citing testimony, and observing that we have it
from  reliable sources.  Nicely to discriminate between fancy and fact may do very well for historians,
but we must not treat a teller of anecdotes as we
would a mouldy manuscript, which has no sense of
honor, and cannot revenge itself when we give it the
loud lie. We should not then interrupt the relater for
the purpose of correcting him. It is to be taken for
granted that he who sets about telling an anecdote,
relates what is unknown to the rest of the circle, or
at any rate what he knows better than they. To in



ANECDOTES AND STORIES.             247
terrupt him with a view to set him right, disconcerts
him, and makes him go on stumbling to the end;
even if it does not provoke him to stop short and
insist on the corrector's proceeding, or, to crown the
affair, to deny the justice of the correction.
When we are interrupted, and the listeners are
suddenly diverted to something else, we should be
diverted also. We should not, as some do, when
they are deserted by their listeners, seem surprised,
and wait in moody taciturnity for some one to bid us
take up the thread of our story. If others are moved
to mirth by something else, we should be as serene
as if we had succeeded to admiration. When their
thoughts take another direction we should immediately join them in the chase: nor should we go on
with our story till particularly requested to do so.
It is not complimentary to the narrator when he
has told his story to stare him in the face as if we
did not perceive its point or moral, or to beg him to
repeat, as we were not at the moment giving attention. " He that telleth a tale to a fool," observes the
son of Sirach, " speaketh to one in slumber; when he
hath told the tale, he will say; what is the matter?"
It is also mortifying to the narrator to say that we
do not perceive the bearing of his story on the subject, or that we do not think him as witty as usual.
Intimates sometimes use such language in talking
with each other, but it is in no case very respectful.
Few can bear to be told, even by their best friends,
that they talk commonplace or nonsense; while
nothing is a greater encouragement to a talker than
appreciation; a dull talker who is heard and applauded will outdo himself.




248       ANECDOTES AND STORIES.
We should, in general, tell only such anecdotes as
are novel. By this we do not mean that the actions
and incidents they describe should be of recent occurrence, but merely unknown to the person to whom
we relate them. When we tell an anecdote that is
not new, as in rare cases we may, it is best to begin
by owning that it is rather trite. In quoting a saying, we should take care to refer it to its rightful
author, or else to no one in particular. If we would
avoid untoward blunders, we should make no surmises on this score, as for instance, "I am of the
opinion of that eminent jurist, Nimrod, who fought
at the battle of Bunker I-Iill."  Nor should we quote
" That excellent work the Pilgrim's Progress, attributed to Thomas'a Kempis, and published in England by Richard Baxter, shortly before he was beheaded by Charles I., in company with Lady Jane Grey."
When we quote a witthicism from some book of
ana, or faceticw, we should notify listeners of the
fact, lest they think we design to impose it upon
them as original. It is pardonable to quote anecdotes
that may be found in collections made ready to
hand; for the work of compiling anecdotes is nowa-days carried to such lengths, that it is beforehand with the man of the most deep and various
reading, who is not to be presumed to quote fro;n
these compilations, because he quotes what is to be
found in them. An anecdote will rarely bear repeating, and if we have not an inexhaustible fund
of wit, we had better not contract the habit of saying fine things, or telling anecdotes.  Unless we
have a good memory, we shall compel our friends to
hear the same thing once and again, which is tire



ANECDOTES AND STORIES.             249
some enough-not to say that the practice shows that
we are so overrun with vanity as to plume ourselves
upon these trifles.
When another tells an anecdote or story with
which you are already familiar, do not intimate that
you have heard it before, unless the question is asked
you, and in confessing that you have, signify your wish
to hear it again, that others present may not be deprived of the pleasure of hearing it for the first time.
Entertainers, and persons of consideration, whose
duty it often is rather to encourage others to talk,
than talk themselves, may call out the diffident, or
the learned, by requesting them to relate the particulars of some anecdote or incident which has
been alluded to in the course of the talk. Always
when our oyiniorn is requested, it is a graceful
mark of deference to refer the asker to some individual present, who has more knowledge of the point
in question, or is older or more experienced than
ourselves.
We should not relate anecdotes for their own sake,
or for the purpose of mere'talk and display. Let them
grow naturally out of the subject, explain some fact,
or illustrate some principle.  The converser must
take heed lest he become a confirmed and incorrigible
story-teller. Such a one may for a while keep a
circle in good humor, but he cannot long be held in
esteem. After hearing a retailer of anecdotes frequently, we discover that his stock of wit is mainly,
if not wholly, borrowed, and of course soon disposed
of; when, it is ten to one, he will become the most
prosaic of talkers: we have known old story-tellers of
treacherous memory, to make themselves more desLX




250       ANECDOTES AND STORIES.
picable than their stories were amusing. A storytelling professor of religion loses the respect of the
worldly, and by causing his person and name to be
associated with ridiculous ideas, he puts it out of his
power to make any serious impression on their minds.
So far do some carry their facetiousness, that they
are known only in the character of merry-makers,
and cannot open their mouth on the most common
subject without making the circle titter in anticipation of hearing a witticism.
It is a remark of the eminent Vinet, that ornament of the Swiss and French churches, in his posthumous work on Pastoral Theology, that the Christian ministry are as a class liable to this error; and
that clerical gossip has in some countries past into a
proverb. He quotes, in allusion to the same topic,
the saying of the distinguished German preacher,
Harms, that no profession furnishes so many narrators of anecdotes, and of no class in society are
more anecdotes told.2"
These professional story-tellers are not often welcome
in companies where there are several good conversers;
they monopolize the attention of the circle, by simnply making drafts upon their memories. Original
thinkers do not like to be silenced by mere reciters;
they are moved to envy them their memories, or to
hate them  for throwing their own talents into the
shade. He is always well received in society, who
is not only entertaining himself, but assists other
people to be the same —who can justly apply to himself the words of Falstaff; "I am not only witty
myself, but the cause that wit is in other men."
2 Vinet, Theologie Pastorale. Paris, 1850, p. 168.




ANECDOTES AND STORIES.             251
Most sedulously must we aim to tell anecdotes in
strict agreement with the fact.  WVe may indeed
omit immaterial circumstances, but we are very seldom allowed to add aught thereto. Let us take heed
how we attach to them ornaments or comments of our
own for the sake of effect; for, however justifiable
they may be in solitary instances, still, in too many
cases, they amount to detraction, or if not, at least to
a suspicion of an attempt at exaggeration or fabrication. Add to this that brevity and simplicity in relating an incident make way for its descent into the
heart. These cautions are especially applicable to
anecdotes that illustrate Christian experience and the
doctrine of Providence. Many of these are of the
nature of Christian evidence; so that to misstate
them becomes detrimental to our religion, by giving
to the world erroneous notions of the Divine government and the operations of the Holy Spirit. In relating tales and stories, however, we are not required
to clip the wings of fancy; we may embellish and
finish them with our best skill. To improve these in
the relating, is a laudable aim.
Whether we are relating anecdotes or stories, we
may omit those circumstances which, if left out, take
nothing from their sense or effect. Minute particulars, preliminary remarks, explanatory clauses, parentheses, and digressions, there should be few or
none at all, especially in telling anecdotes. Some
begin by saying, "The man I am going to speak of
was a physician about forty years old, tall, of dark
complexion, the son of Mr. Strangeways, who used to
live in Bond street. IHe married the only daughter
of Alderman Immense, who died either of obesity or




252      ANECDOTES AND STORIES.
apoplexy-I forget which; at all events, his death
drove his wife into insanity," etc., etc.; or, "before
I proceed to my story allow me to mention one very
important circumstance." People like to hasten to
the catastrophe. To defer the conclusion tantalizes
curiosity and expectation. Another annoying habit
is to commence by asking such questions as the following: " Do you know Mr. Huge? Do not! Well,
he is the son of Capt. Huge. You have heard of
him, havn't you, sir?  You must know him if you
know anything. Why, sir, you must know his son.
Do you not recollect seeing him at Mrs. Bats-eyes'
once last winter?" There are those who will ask
even strangers and travellers questions of this kind,
not considering that they must be very ignorant of
them and their friends. It is an imprudence to ask
any one, within earshot of others, whether he knows
individuals of doubtful character, whom he is quite
ashamed to own as acquaintance.
Nor should we begin by making promises, as,
"Let me tell you an anecdote which is very amusing," or " Hear a happy hit," or " I just now call to
mind a retort which I think remarkably fine," or "' I
will tell you a thing that will surprise you." As the
narrator, by such a proem, makes pretensions he is
not able to act up to, so he disappoints his hearers,
and meets with a cold reception.
After a recital which has produced an effect, we
should not repeat it for the purpose of raising a second burst of applause. Neither should we repeat an
anecdote which did not appear to be understood the
first time, or attempt to explain it or point out the
ludicrous part of it.




ANECDOTES AND STORIES.               253
What are properly called stories may occasionally
be told in society for their own sake. In circles that
are formed for a whole evening, and forbidden to
break up before a certain hour, though every rational
entertainment should run dry, recourse is sometimes
bad to story-telling. There are stories, though they
are scarce, which are replete with moral instruction,
and seem  to be all but incarnations of morality.
When we tell one of this nature, we should eschew
moralizing as we go along, or at the conclusion: the
listeners will naturally wish to say something about
its moral. As to long stories, we need not say a
word; so we pass on to observe that,
Mimicry is to be shunned; particularly the mimicking of bad habits and constitutional defects, as
lisping, stammering, and limping. A burlesquing
of national or provincial peculiarities is sometimes
warrantable; but it is never meet to make the manners and foibles of individuals a subject of mimicry.
This is not, however, to be construed as forbidding a
respectful imitation of others with a view to give a
correct idea of their characters or manners.
In this connection we must protest against the too
common practice of burlesquing the characters, events,
doctrines and language of the holy scriptures, or the
recital of anecdotes that go to set Christians, as such,
in a ludicrous light.
Before undertaking a narration of any kind, we
should consider not whether it is interesting to us,
but whether it is likely to be interesting to others.
Personal affairs, family history and local incidents,
are not often entertaining to any but the narrators
themselves. The same holds true of repeating in




254       ANECDOTES AND STORIES.
one circle the colloquies of another; in which often
recur the expressions " said I," and "said he." Still,
after all, we are justified in talking on subjects
which would otherwise be hardly passable, when the
company is threatened with a long silence, which is
more to be dreaded than the worst piece of prosing.
It is wise not to set ourselves to tell an anecdote or
story unless we are familiar with it. To stop in the
midst for the purpose of recollecting some point, or
of asking another to assist our memory; to forget
the very word or sentence in which is hid the whole
force of the anecdote, is a mortification both to narrator and listener.  Nevertheless, if the latter is
well-bred, he will listen with respectful attention to
such tongue-tied confusion, particularly if the narrator is an aged person or has a frail memory.
The Christian who has at command a variety of religious anecdotes, possesses a means of great usefulness. By their help he can make the most spiritual
subjects entertaining to the ungodly themselves: by
accompanying a principle with a pertinent fact, example or illustration, he plants it in their minds so
firmly, that it can never be rooted out. Anecdotes
engage the feelings. It is not easy to press any abstract truth, however practical in its bearings, home
to uncultivated minds, so as to touch their sensibilities, and make them the springs of prompt and
powerful action. But these living manifestations of
truth, by giving it form, complexion, motion and
voice, effect this more readily than general arguments and exhortations.
Another use of anecdotes and stories is to give a
profitable turn to talk when it is taking a wrong di



ANECDOTES AND STORIES.             255
rection. A skilful anecdotist will beguile noisy debaters from their contested ground, triflers from their
prattlings, musers from their gloomy silence, and detractors from their prey.
The judicious narrator is generally well received
in society. He runs little risk of wounding the pride
of others, since he does not strive to silence or outtalk them. He aims not to send along the line of
the company the running fire of a titter, but simply
to afford it a rational and beneficial diversion. As
be only tells what he has heard or read, so he does
not bring upon himself the charge of oracular wisdom,
and the blame that commonly attaches to moralizers
and wranglers. He agreeably engages the attention
without fatiguing it, and by carrying our minds
back to the past, withdraws them from the frivolities
of the present; the virtues that are afar off are
nmade to hide the faults that are at hand: the history of a nation or the biography of a hero is made
to take the place of the scandal of a coterie or the
vaporings of inane pretension.




CHAPTER XV.
WIT AND  PLEASANTRY.
"1My wife's judgment agreed with mine," says
Richard Baxter, " that too much table-talk and too
often, of the best things, doth but tend to dull the
common hearers and harden them under it as a customary thing; and that too much good talk may
bring it into contempt, or make it ineffectual."
Those who confine their discourse to the subject of
religion and other solemn themes, may preserve a
reputation for consistency with those who mistake
the nature of the Gospel system, imagining it to be
little else than the exaction of penances and austerities; but the attempt which some professors make
to adapt their religion to the false notions of such
people, only makes it the more forbidding to them.
The truth is, that the Christian religion, beyond any
other whatsoever, makes the soul that is conscious of
a personal interest in it, joyful and jubilant. Christ
came down to this world, not to give us a revelation
of sill, guilt, death, and hell, —-this we had already;
but to prepare and proclaim a way of deliverance
fromn them. This train of dark realities was led into
the world by the first Adam, not by the second. It
was these things indeed that moved the Son of God
to come to our rescue, and to send the Hloly Spirit




WIT AND PLEASANTRY.               257
into the world to finish the work of redemption; but
they properly make no part of the Gospel revelation.
The cross was erected on Golgotha " the place of a
skull," but it was not itself a skull. The man of the
world tells us that our religion is one of terrors; not
considering that it is his sins that make him view it
in this light. He ascribes to Christ and his servants
terrors which are the peculiar portion of Satan and
his dupes. lMelancholy, sorrow and remorse. always
have been, are now, and eternally must be, the cup
of those who will not receive the glad tidings of salvation.
There is in some pious minds a mistaken persuasion on this subject. It appears that Baxter was induced occasionally to enliven his familiar talk with
secular subjects, not as much by his prevailing ternper and frame, as by motives of expediency. The
Nonconformists of his time, as well as the Puritans
of an earlier period, were characterized by an austerity and solemnity of deportment not strictly answerable to the gentleness, cheerfulness, and sweetness, which mark the highest order of piety. There
was no doubt good cause for this type of character.
The levity, ribaldry, and blasphemy that overran the
palace and the ale-house, the theatre and the drawing-room; the sports and revellies that broke the
silence and the sanctity of the Sabbath, were well
calculated to drive all pious people to the other extreme of frowning sullenness. And when the general
dissoluteness was set over against their habitual sobriety, the contrast made them seem more sanctimonious than they really were. Pure was the flame of
devotion that arose fiom their hearts towards heaven,




258        WIT AND PLEASANTRY.
and brightly did it glare athwart the moral darkness
of the earth. It warnled the soul, and yet it did not
always gladden it. The conversation of the Puritan
was decent and scriptural. His lips were sanctified
like those of Isaiah, by a live coal off the altar, and
like those of that prophet, often uttered words of admonitory and presaging eloquence; but they were not
like those of the evangelist John. which had been
equally hallowed by the society of his Master, and
poured forth not only the testimonies of truth, but
preserved also evermore the law of kindness.
Yet it is to be doubted whether, taken all in all,
the mass of modern professors have altered the manners of their fathers much for the better. For while
a few examples of puritanic gravity are still to be
seen among us, we have in general backslidden into
levity and frivolousness.  We might have wisely
ameliorated in some degree the ancient preciseness,
but that we should have quite cast it off is a fact
that calls for regret. The frequenters of the church
and those of the ball-room; the worshippers of God
and the devotees of Mammon; the children of faith
and those of fashion, now assemble on common
ground, and gyrate in the same circles. Those laying aside the offending cross, and these investing
themselves in their best moralities, contrive to form
a confederation which is tolerable to both, but consistent in neither. And while each class sacrifices
some peculiarity to the other, the people of the world
are allowed to give the tone to the company, and to
select the themes of conversation. The talk which is
so much in fashion in these companies, is light,
grovelling, equally devoid of piety and intellect. It




WIT AND PLEASANTRY.              259
seems as if this empty prattle were invented, that
rational and accountable beings might find a decent
way of disowning their nature, and an easy method
of murdering time. It gives no beneficial employment to the mind, and answers none of the ends for
which the human kind should congregate.
In these assemblies, the Christian is led off his
guard unawares. Holding converse with people of
respectable lives and engaging manners, who pay
an exterior deference to religion, and shock none of
his moral sensibilities, he is enticed away, step by
step, from habits of devotion into dissipating mirth,
and held captive to the ruling spirit of worldliness.
Were his associates persons of avowed impiety, he
would not hesitate to forswear all conformity to their
principles and practice; but in these companies of
elegant moralists, he is solicited to sinful compliances so gently and gradually, that he is overcome
before he is aware of having so much as consented to
a parley. When the traveller in the old fable was
overtaken with the north wind, he drew his cloak
closely about him, but when the wind died away, and
the sky cleared up, the genial beams of the sun
caused him unwittingly to drop it. Of such a conformist to the world, we may say what the prophet
said to Ephraim: "He hath mixed himself among
the people. Strangers have devoured his strength
and he knoweth it not."  Samson has consented to
be shorn of the Kazarite locks wherein lay his might,
and is to hold himself repaid for the sacrifice he has
made, by the Babylonian garment with which his new
friends have clad him.
The most pious persons are especially exposed to




260        WIT AND PLEASANTRY.
occasional bursts of mirth. When once their wonted
seriousness is broken, it would seem as if their words,
so long held in check, being now let loose, are resolved to make amends for past restraints. Some,
at times, give themselves up to jollity, from a fear
that their severity would be a hindrance to free conversation, or make piety repulsive to the sons and
daughters of folly. Even if they do not carry their
merriment so far as worldlings do, still it attracts
more attention.  Their piety makes their gayeties
conspicuous, just as the golden spikes on the top of
Solomon's temple owed some of their radiance to
their elevation. This fact is too often overlooked.
And, we might add, though a certain degree of joyousness is sanctioned, and even fostered by our religion, let us not forget that actions, which are innocent in themselves, are to be omitted when others
are likely to be wrongly influenced by them.
Incessant efforts to amuse, though they are always
unpleasing, are never more so than when they are
put forth in skirmishes of witticisms and jokes.
Those who engage in them, soon exhausting what
little pure wit they have, are forced to resort to an
affectation of it, and to require us to applaud each
sally by a laborious laugh. One may very well seek
the society of those who are too entertaining when
he is too happy; but, surely, he who goes into company in quest of pastime should not look for it among
those who are vainly taxing their ingenuity to make
him merry. This desire of amusing is a chief cause
of the many frivolous confabulations we hear in so.
ciety. To this divinity are sacrificed good sense and
decorum, and even wit itself. Nobody is content to




WIT AND PLEASANTRY.                261
please-to shun whatever is inelegant, and to pursue
whatever affords a calm and lasting satisfaction.
And since trifles and fancies are the staple of amusement, those who can originate them are amply prepared to meet all the demands of these circles. It
commonly happens, however, that the fund of trifles
is soon exhausted, so that the entertainment is eventually reduced to a mere round of repetitions.
But shall not the mind be allowed some relaxation? On this point there can be but one opinion.
The mind is not capable of unceasing labor; and if,
when in the intervals of toil, instead of giving itself
up to restless idleness it be employed in diversion, it
shortly recovers from its weariness, and returns, with
augmented energies, to vigorous thinking. Everybody remembers how ~AEsop26 apologized for his playing with children, by alluding to the unbent bow.
Cicero justified an occasional relaxation from the
business of the forum, by bringing forward the exs.
ample of birds, which, when they have finished their
nests, fly about sportively and at random; and if
tradition is to be credited, the evangelist John unbent his mind by playing with a tame partridge.
Nature herself teaches us to renovate our enfeebled
powers by passing from a severe to a lighter exercise
of them; but every amusement that does not so recruit the mind as to prepare it for serious and profitable thinking, is worse than none. The mischief of
levity is not that it merely unbends, but that it unstrings the bow of the mind, destroys its elasticity,
26 Some attribute this action to Agesilaus; the old legendary
writers, to St. John: Phoedrus says it was,Esop-no matter who it
was.




262        WVIT AND PLEASANTRY.
and altogether unfits it for service. Beyond this, it
leaves the mind a prey to lassitude, discontent, and
disgust. The victims of toil, disease, and sorrow are
happy in comparison with those of excessive amusement. A man miserably afflicted with a hypochondriacal complaint consulted Dr. Tonchin.  " You
want amusement, sir," said Tonchin to him, " go and
see Carlini, the harlequin; he will make you laugh,
and do you more good than anything I can prescribe
to you."  "'Alas! sir," said the patient, " I myself
am Carlini." This disease is almost past cure when
it is caused by inordinate joy and hilarity, for it is
attended with an exhaustion of those animal spirits
which are its best remedy. If one makes that a
business which should be only a pastime, whither
shall he turn for recreation? He can find relief in
no kind of amusement. I-e must either endure, as
best he may, the disaster he has brought upon his
jaded faculties, or be driven to this alternative:
either to betake himself to the healing of evangelical grace, or to commit suicide in the vain hope that
by destroying his body, he will put an end to the
miseries of his soul.
The judicious Christian indulges a pure and moderate playfulness, not allowing it to make up the
substance of his talk, but only its seasoning. TIe
makes use of it to enliven tediousness, to drive away
the melancholy of his friends, and to light up with
hearty smiles the faces of his enemies. Yet he is
not resolved on amusing at all times and in all
places. Hle does not covet the reputation of a humorist so eagerly as to seek it at all hazards, even if
it should force himn to sing an epithalamiumn at a




WIT AND PLEASANTRY.              263
funeral. Grace has not extinguished his natural wit.
It has only refined and dignified it, and his newlytuned sensibilities inform him when, where, and how
far to give it utterance. It was, we believe, the remark of Madame de Stael, when, during her visit to
England, she had been much in the society of the
great philanthropist, that she had heard, before
knowing him, of Wilberforce as the best man in
England, but that she had not been prepared to find
him also the wittiest. A man of saintly innocence
may have a refined and sportive wit.
We do well to consider that wit is an untractable
faculty. Unless it is well bridled, it will overleap
the lines of propriety. Most of the keen darts of wit
that one hears whizzing by, have been pointed, barbed,
and poisoned by envy and malignity, and fix on
some person the stigma of vice, folly, or weakness.
For this reason kind-hearted conversers have little to
do with them. Pascal, himself, by nature one of the
keenest of wits, has some such remark as this in his
"Thoughfts," that "To have the name of saying
good things, is a bad character:" he means of course
one little befitting the lowly and kindly disciple of
Christ. The wit can hardly prevail on himself to
withhold a gibe for the sake of affection. He falsely
presumes that his friends will not smart under the
thrusts he gives them; or if they do not, they will
forgive the offence since it is committed by him. So
he goes on, putting their patience to the proof, till he
has provoked them past endurance. He who would
be a wit must be content to boast few friends. A
joke is "' an air-drawn dagger," from which our flesh
instinctively shrinks.  We see not the hand that




264        WIT AND PLEASANTRY.
grasps it, and cannot divine how deep it will strike:
should it prove harmless, we do not thank it for
startling us.
There is a kind of banter or persiflage which consists in playing upon foibles that are not accounted
real blemishes by those who laugh at them, but are
taken to heart as serious charges by the person who
is the subject of them. Though this is commonly
thought an innocent sort of humor, it is many times
far from being such. Besides exposing a worthy
person to shame or contempt, and perhaps rousing
his anger, it is calculated to lessen our horror of vice.
How often, for instance, do we hear people rallying
their friends on their intemperance, or indolence, or
pride, —rallying men on their too great freedom with
women, or women on their too great freedom with
men, and the like-people, too, who profess to believe these sins to be among the greatest scourges to
society, and the most heinous offences in the sight of
God. He who can make sport of such sins, has defective notions of their enormity, and leads others to
think too lightly of the guilt of committing them.
Again, the habit of humorously setting good qualities in a bad light, as calling zeal, fanaticism, or benleficence, prodigality, and ridiculing persons for vices
from which they are known to be remarkably freethis habit is open not only to the abuses before stated,
but to this additional one, that what is said in raillery often passes current among slow-minded people
as a well-attested fact.
It is scarcely ever wise to repay a joke or repartee
in kind. In most cases it is better to make no answer at all; or if any, to answer without vulgarity or




WIT AND PLEASANTRY.              265
unkindness. To a humorous but indecent sally no
other than a grave and decent answer is allowable.
To indulge even humor in reply would be a degrading condescension. It is often best rebuked by
a compassionate silence.
It was the opinion of Luther that Satan himself
cannot bear contempt; it is certain that man cannot.
No creature is more dreaded in society than a sneering, satirizing, disdainful one. If we cannot avoid
feeling an inward contempt of another, we can at any
rate avoid showing him any mark of it. The betrayal of such a feeling will offend without reforming
him. We should never heed what we cannot help.
Let the Christian wholly refrain from making any
part of the holy Scriptures matter of ludicrous coinparison, allusion, quotation, travesty, or anything of
the kind. IHe is so familiar with them that he is easily tempted to clothe a facetious thought in their
quaint and forcible language, but he ought to feel
such a reverence for them as will ever keep him
back from speaking of them in a sportive vein. May
he not, then, it will be asked, relate some of the instances of pious blunders in discoursing on, reading,
or quoting them? Hardly ever; for the ludicrous
ideas which they attach to particular words or passages, break in upon us whenever we read or meditate
on them. He who thus, in some sort, writes in the
margin of my Bible, humorous comments, illustrations, and references, greatly hinders my religious
improvement. It is like the old grotesque style of
illumination adopted by some of the monastic artists,
both in their transcripts of devotional manuals and
in the architecture of sacred edifices. The border
M




266        WIT AND PLEA'SANTRY.
of the door to the house of worship, and the margin
of the manual of prayer is made absolutely to grin
with the antic postures and visages of apes, mules,
and fiends. Satan does not dread a decalogue which
he is all-owed thus to ornament and illuminate; and
few readers could use it with safety much less with
pious edification.  Such  a man casts hellebore,
causing madness, among the daily manna which
my soul eats, and into the fountain whence I drink
the waters of immortality.
The Christian is also to be cautioned against starting, or taking part in a burlesque dispute on any
moral or religious question. For while some trifling
matters may be innocently handled in a jocund way,
it can hardly be doubted, that if Christians who are
solicited to join in the sport, would first consult their
consciences as to their duty in the case, few of them
would ever consent so to banter about any serious
question.
Jests on sacred subjects are not only indicative of
very little wit and less taste, but they are oftentimes
proofs of the insincerity of the jesters. As servants
who feel no respect for their master, will make wry
faces at him when his back is turned, so these persons do not scruple to make merry with their religion
when it has ceased to work upon their fears, or when
they think it more to their present interest than it
would be to pay it a hypocritical reverence. If some
of those who indulge this species of low wit are sincere-and some of them undoubtedly are-they have,
to say the least, too evanescent and superficial a piety
" Foolish talking and jesting," says Paul, " are not
convernient," or to use a more modern word, becoming.




WIT AND PLEASANTRY.              267
The Apostle must be understood to forbid all badinage and jocularity. Were a heathen, who was
wholly ignorant of the Gospel, to enter almost any
circle of Christians, and listen awhile to their conversation, so far from inferring the above to be one of
our sacred precepts, he would be likely to conclude
the contrary to be the case. From the regularity
with which we introduce foolish talking and jesting
on all occasions of familiar intercourse, he would not
unreasonably set them down in his own mind as
among the most imperative duties of our religion.
And what would be his surprise, when told that
Christians had so far yielded to the thraldom  of
fashion, as habitually and practically to regard the
apostolic injunction as a nullity.
It is scarcely worth while to say, that boisterous
laughter does not comport with Christian gravity.
It is every way improper. Laugh we may at seasonable times, and in a moderate manner. "A fool,"
saith the son of Sirach, "lifteth up his voice with
laughter, but a wise man doth scarce smile a little."
It is natural to be cheerful when we or others are
happy; and he who puts on airs of surprise at the
temperate merriment of others, is further removed
from sympathy with his own species, than to make
himself morally useful to them. We must, above
all, abstain from laughing at our own smart speeches.
Whatever may be the physical uses of the laugh, it
certainly is not expressive of any high moral feeling.
Were we to analyze the habitual laugher, I am afraid
we should find him chiefly composed of vanity, scorn,
and dissimulation.
As for him who sets up for a wit, he does his own




268       WIT AND PLEASANTRY.
mind a great mischief. He so accustoms himself to
view every object in a quaint light, that in lapse of
time, he comes to be unable to contemplate the most
solemn things in any other. He is forced to burlesque every subject he talks upon. When he would
be serious, you think him joking, and when he would
be joking, you think him serious. So long has he
abused the faculty of speech, that it has ceased to
perform its proper offices.  Add to this, that uncommon sagacity and alertness of mind are apt to be regarded as not compatible with probity; the generality are prone to cast a suspicious eye upon those
who exhibit powers they do not themselves possess.
And yet they do not consider wit as a mark of a high
order of talents, but rather as inseparable fiom a light
and superficial mind. The greater number of distinguished wits appear to be wanting in every higher
quality, and in none more than in piety.




CHAPTER  XVI.
THE STYLE OF CONVERSATIOIN.
THE colloquial style is natural, easy and idiomatic.
It is the free and animated expression of salient
thoughts, lively feelings, and a sportive fancy. It is
made up of the words and phrases in familiar use
among the generality of those who speak the same
language, and abounds in those arbitrary turns and
forms of expression which are peculiar to a nation.
it is as clear of the jargon of the foreigner and the
cant of the vulgar, as it is of the preciseness of the
pedant, the verbosity of the declaimer, and the daintiness of the sentimentalist. It is the language of
unstudied but elegant simplicity, on which rules are
formed-not hampered by them. But if it is simple,
it is not necessarily the vehicle of trivial and commonplace ideas. It is capable of giving utterance
to original and sublime thoughts, and yet it sometimes makes them pass for old and intimate acquaintance, by reason of the ease and familiarity
with which they enter the mind. The scholar, or the
philosopher, is welcomed into the conversational circle, so he only speaks in its plain and unassuming
language. By deigning to use the vernacular idiom
of the conversers, he touches a chord that vibrates in




270    THE STYLE OF CONVERSATION.
all their hearts, and draws them  nearer to him  and
to one another.
No style is so difficult to master as the conversational.  In order to attain its peculiar excellences
with no admixture of vulgarities and conceits, we
must practise long in the companies where it is
spoken.  Women of cultivated minds are oftener
adepts in it than men of the same class."  Few pure
specimens of it are to be found in print; the best,
perhaps, in the published letters of our classical writers when they forget themselves and their craft.
For good examples of the courteous address which
becomes disputants, and the phraseology of graceful,
kind, and respectful discussion, the learned reader
will call to mind the works of Plato, in the Greek,
the philosophical works of Cicero, in the Latin, and
II Coltegiano, by Castiglione, in the Italian; and the
English reader will remember Joseph Addison's Dialogue upon ancient coins; Berkley's works; and
Rev. James Itervey's Theron and Aspasio. We must
not be understood, however, to recommend all these
authors, in respect of their sentiments or their general style, but only as affording examples of gentlemanly debate. Affectations of the conversational
style are to be met with in abundance.  They are in
great part a medley of styles, consisting of occa.
sional fragments of beauty, in so disjointed a union
however, as to produce all the effects of deformity.
Not a few imagine that its ease is easily acquired,
27 Few orators cultivated the art of speech more assiduously than
Cicero; and we are expressly told that he resorted to the society of
noble and refined Roman matrons to perfect his mastery of the Latin
tongue.




THE STYLE OF CONVERSATION.   271
and when they hear an accomplished converser, they
straightway conclude they can easily learn to talk
like him. Those who despise this style would respect it, did they know the difficulty of their becoming proficients in it; and those who think it vulgar,
have yet to learn that it calls for the highest exertions of the best taste and the best sense, to select the
phrases and expressions of which it is made up, friom
the language of the common people among whom
they originate, and to make them of a piece with the
diction of elegance.
It is hardly ever compassed by those who aim at
ease or even correctness, while they are talking.
Some emulating Johnson by trying to do their best
on all occasions, or Mackintosh, who always spoke
with faultless elegance, become declaimers or purists, or perhaps both by turns. They do not consider that gracefulness must needs have a certain
negligence about it, and that the incautious mood
which lies open to mistakes ever attends the truest
beauties of diction.  In truth, the blunders themselves become excellences when tact and gracefulness are displayed in recovering from them. As to
the choice of words, most people never speak so well
as when they speak at a venture. Many a stately
discourse has been delivered in a circle of friends,
in no part of which was a single tittle misplaced or
omitted, and yet, viewed in the gross, it was but one
carefully wrought error throughout. The correctness
and elaborateness of written language is quite out
of place in parlance. Here what is irregular often
gives force and vivacity, and always naturalness to
what is said. Here much is left to subaudition —




272   THE STYLE OF CONVERSATION.
what is obscure is explained by the accompanying
look or gesture, and what is hinted at in the unfinished sentence, is understood by the hearer, whose
thoughts outrun the tongue of the hurrying talker.
It is a peculiarity of most good conversers that they
deal in happy strokes of thought, delivered the moment they were conceived-in sentiments which
come pulsing from the heart or sparkling from the
fancy-in observations suggested by a slight occurrence, perhaps; and in off-hand discussions started
suddenly and without premeditation. It is then, if
ever, that they give us their best specimens of this
style. They succeed because they speak just what
they mean, and utter their thoughts just as they rise
in their minds. Absorbed with the subject, and unmindful of art, their ideas are brought forth by the
unregarded operations of nature.
The practiced converser makes clearness his first
concern. He makes no apology for using an obsolete or new-coined word that exactly expresses his
idea, or is best understood by his hearers. " He
chooses," says Delille, " words that are in common
use, if they are not vulgar, and keeps equally clear
of a labored elegance and an obscure niceness. He
occasionally commits a solecism perhaps, which
marks his own modes of thought, or gives a happy
turn to a sentence. He strews his talk with modest
and broken flowers; and though he shows no art, lihe
outdoes all the arts of the rhetorician. Mlany of his
sentences may be stumbling-blocks to the gramnmarian or the logician, but they are the delight of
all who are alive to the beauty and grace of naturalIness."




THE STYLE OF CONVERSATION.   273
Nevertheless, it is possible for these negligences,
if numerous and great, to become untoward. WVhile
the talker should not make great ado in conveying
his thoughts, still he should not allow his words to
rattle on too far ahead of his ideas. Few things are
more annoying than the nonsense that vents itself in
a profusion of words-than a whirling of the tongue
long after the stream of thought that drove it has
run dry. There is here and there one who willfully
corrupts the language. Presuming on his real or fancied rank in society, he abandons himself to vulgarity or ribaldry, or obscenity of speech. In rebuke,
of such a one, it is useless to say one word; his own
language would correct him, if anything could.
We should guard ourselves against the use of cant
epithets.  The adjectives " fine," "tremendous,"
"capital," etc., are nowadays applied to all persons
and things indiscriminately.  "Some folks," says
Coleridge, "apply epithets as boys do in making
Latin. When I first looked upon the falls of the
Clyde, I was unable to find a word to express my
feelings. At last a man, a stranger, who arrived
about the same time, said,'How majestic!' It was
the precise term, and I was turning round and saying,'thank you, sir, that is the exact word for it,'
when he added in the next breath,'Yes, how
Fpretty!',
We should so express ourselves as not to force
affirinatives or negatives from the listener.  Such
phrases as "'TYou know," "You see," "Don't you
see?" "Do you understand?" should be avoided.
Those who are always saying, "I don't understand
vou," expose themselves to the retort, " It is your own




274    THE  STYLE  OF CONVERSATION.
fault if you do not;" say, rather,' will you please repeat," or " pardon me, I am so obtuse as not to understand;" and instead of saying, " You don't understand
me," say "I don't make myself understood."  In
conversation avoid great formality of expression; it
is better to say " I can't tell," " I don't know," than
"I cannot tell," "I do not know." A lady should
not say, My husband-she should call him X2Jr. It is
equally good breeding, when she is alone with Mim,
to designate him by his Christian name.  A  young
lady, if the eldest of the family, is entitled to the
surname, as M:iss Smith, while the younger sisters
are called by their Christian names, as ~Miss lfVary.
Do not say merely " MIa'am" or "M iss" in addressing ladies of your acquaintance.
The vulgar are ambitious of using what they call
"big words," and of multiplying euphemisms. Once
he was the rustic who spoke Saxon, now he is the
rustic who shuns the Saxon, and will speak only the
affected Norman.  To use such words as " perspiration" instead of " sweat,"  " pantaloons" for
"breeches," " an eructationl" for " a belch," is
growing to be decidedly vulgar.28
A principal fault in the conversational diction of
Christians, is the indiscriminate use of scripture
phrases and idioms.  A free seasoning of scriptural
sentiments beseems the conversation of saints; and
even the frequent quotation of Biblical language is
28 It is in most cases not only lawful, but also expedient, to pronounce all foreign proper names according to English rules as applied
to syllables of like orthography. Proper names claim the privilege
of being naturalized in all languages by receiving, upon their first
introduction, the pronunciation of native words.




THE STYLE OF CONVERSATION.   275
beautiful in the aged pilgrim. It comnports with his
wisdom, venerableness, and spirituality.  But for
others to form a habit of quoting Scripture in talking
on all themes is very objectionable. It engenders
an irreverence towards the most awful subjects; and
though many of those who treat Holy Writ with this
kind of familiarity intend in this way to make their
secular affairs a part of their religion, it frequently
happens that they only make their religion a part of
their secular affairs. Men of taste do not dislike the
style of our version. They join in admiring and
quoting it. What excites their disgust, is to hear it
quoted without judgment; to hear Oriental idioms
and the most obsolete parts cited on improper occasions, and with as much fireedom as if they were the
most poetic portions, and to hear such passages
quoted in an abrupt and whimsical manner, in talking with all sorts of persons, at all times, and in all
places. And even this disgust comes almost as often
of ignorance as of taste. Some of the reporters of
Whitefield's sermons, preached in London, were so
ignorant of the scriptures, as not to know that what
they took for his language and ridiculed as his, was
the quoted word of God. Mrs. Hannah More speaks
of a gentleman who cited to her, as an exceptional
sentence in a sermon he had heard, this declaration
of Paul, " There is, therefore, now no condemnation
to them which are in Christ Jesus, who walk not
after the flesh, but after the Spirit." Whoever has
held any intercourse with people of fashion, or even
with unevangelized men of letters, must have been
often struck with their wretched ignorance of Divine
Revelation. Christians ought, therefore, when they




276   THE STYLE OF CONVERSATION.
quote scripture in their hearing, at the same time to
notify them, in some way or other, that they are
quoting.
In the received version, the Hebrew and Hellenistic
idioms are sometimes not translated, but only transferred. To translate an idiom is not to render it literally, but to substitute for it a corresponding idiom,
or if the language affords none, words which convey
to us, as nearly as possible, the idea that the words
in the original bore to those who spoke them. The
idioms in question do not, as they are rendered in
our version, make the same impression on the minds
of English readers as they did, in the original, on
those of the people of the East. Forms of language
which were used in the refined court of Solomon, and
are now in vogue among cultivated Orientals, are fastidiously shunned by the most ignorant Europeans
and Europo-Americans of the present day. This is
to be attributed less to a difference in virtue, knowledge, and taste, than to a difference in usage. Accordingly, there are words and phrases in approved
use in the most refined circles of London, which are
unseemly to the same class in iNew York, and the reverse holds equally true. The one is not, perhaps,
displeased with the idea of the other, but only with
his mode of expressing it. The same terms of language have varying shades of signification in different places, so that it becomes necessary to substitute
other words in order to give utterance to the sanle
idea, and nothing beyond it.
Occasionally we hear persons making somne scripture expressions more offensive than they would otherwise be, by quoting them out of their connection.




TIHE STYLE OF CONVERSATION.   277
The most elegant things may become indecorous
when they are out of place, while, on the other hand,
things that are indecorous in themselves are mlade
decent by the circumstances in which they are spoken. Words which are not unpleasing to the ear
when they are spoken by the aged or the uneducated,
may be so when spoken by the young or the refined.
The phraseology of the original scriptures is, to a
great degree, that of unsophisticated nature. Those
who first used it in the East were plain men, dwelling in tents, and, when we read what they said, we
bear in mind that they lived in the remote past, and
in other regions, and feel that there was a strict accordancy between their character and their language.
And so we can easily understand how our Saxon forefathers, living in a ruder age than our own, could use
the language of our version without impropriety.
But when we, who live in this dainty age, adopt as
our own the same simple and unadorned expressions,
the incongruity is at once manifest. It is true, that
when they are read or quoted on occasions of public
or family worship, we do not disrelish them, because
we are habituated to hear them on such occasions;
but if we hear them in the drawing-room or at the
place of business, they do not sound well. Modesty
does not turn away abashed from the partial nakedness of the Indian, as he is seen in his native wilderness, but she would blush to see his scanty vestures
adopted by the citizens of the metropolis.
Christians, and those who have been religiously educated, do well to bear in mind that some parts of
the scriptures which, by reason of long familiarity,
do not offend their ears, may not be the most eupho



278   THE STYLE OF CONVERSATION,
nious to persons who are not habitual readers of the
Bible. Hence, they should frame their speech less
by their own notions of decorum than by those of
their fellow-talkers.
Still, it must be owned that we may go absurd
lengths out of tenderness for " itching ears," and the
maw]ish tastes of the world's denizens. Somne refined Christians, in their religious utterances, take a
deal of trouble to keep aloof from certain words, because vulgar use has, in their estimation, tainted
them, not considering that the vulgar cannot taint a
word by any abuse of it, so long as people of taste do
not consent to disuse it. Though it is with great difficulty that we can bring ourselves to find fault with
any member of that persecuted body of men, the
clergy, we would respectfully ask leave to suggest
whether some of them are not comning to be quite nice
enough on this score. Some divines, in quoting this
scripture: "Martha said, Lord, by this time he
stinketh," would fain say, " by this time lie emitteth
unpleasant effluvia." Instead of "' Be not drunk with
wine," they would say,  "Be not intoxicated with
wine." In describing our Saviour's passion in Gethsemane, they would say, "I-e perspired as it were
great drops of blood."  The Rev. Dr. Griffin used to
tell an anecdote of a clergyman who said, in the
course of a sermon, "' ly dear hearers, unless you repent of your sins and turn unto God, you will go to a
place that it would be indelicate to name before so
refined an assembly."' Few things are more unbecoming the sacred office than an affectation of gentility. When John Wesley told his preachers they had
9 In President Dwight's satire, "The Triumph of Infidelity,' al



THE STYLE OF CONVERSATION.  279
no more to do with being gentlemen than  they had
with being dancing-masters, he meant that they were
not to affect extreme delicacy in the pulpit. We
should make a difference between the official and the
private address of the clergyman, just as Shakspeare
does between the bearing of the courtier when in the
palace and when he is on the field of battle.
"Courtiers as free, as debonnair, unarmed,
As bending angels, that's their fame in peace;
But when they would seem soldiers, they have galls,
Good arms, strong joints, true swords, and Jove's accord:
Nothing so full of heart."
Those little elegances of speech which do not misbecome the drawing-roomn, do not sound well coming
down from  the pulpit.  The preacher who is careful
to mould his words to fastidious ears, or to curve his
gestures to the admiration of the graces, betrays a
want of earnestness. Ezekiel, when he had seen the
visions of God by the river of Clhebar, would have
ready quoted in an earlier part of this work, a kindred character is
happily described:
"There smil'd the smooth Divine, unus'd to wound
The sinner's heart, with hell's alarming sound.
No terrors on his gentle tongue attend;
No grating truths the nicest ear offend.
That strange new birth, that methodistic grace,
Nor in his heart, nor sermons found a place.
Plato's fine tales he clumsily retold,
Trite, fireside moral seasaws, dull as old;
His Christ, his bible placed at good remove
Guilt hell-deserving, and forgiving love.'Twas best, he said, mankind should cease to sin;
Good fame requir'd it; so did peace within:
Their honors, well he knew, would ne'er be driven;
But hop'd they still would please to go to heaven."




280   THE STYLE OF CONVERSATION.
made a very unseemly change, had he next been
found adjusting his locks by a curling iron, or taking
lessons of a posture-master. A sacred, grave simplicity, is the only fitting adornment of a grave Inessage, deeply pondered, and passionately urged. If
the preacher only makes his hearers understand and
obey the gospel, he effects the great object of his
ministry; if he does this, let some exquisite listenei
make him an offender for a word if he mrust. Ile
may answer him in the spirit of Demosthenes, when
he said to a snarling critic: "The fate of Greece
does not depend on an ill-chosen word." These remarks are to the full as applicable to the laity as to
the clergy. Let them take heed, lest in their prayers
and exhortations they refine away the dignity and
force of the sacred Saxon by the unnecessary use of
words of Greek, Latin, or French extraction. Our
religion does indeed require us to be true gentlemen,
but it requires infinitely more —it binds us to the
faithful performance of duties vastly more serious
and noble than any the mere gentleman, commonly
so called, can or will perform.
But we are wandering from  our subject.  Some
occasional turns of expression in our version are now
obsolete, in what is misnamed "good society," and
were a new version to be made in the nicest adaptation to mnodish refinement, its language would, in no
long time, be equally obsolete there. 3Many of the
phrases current in the circles of giddiest Fashion, in
Chesterfield's time, took no root in the language, and
would now sound more uncouthly than the phraseology
of Shakspeare's time or Alilton's.  Hiad a version
been lmade by some purist or cuphuist of those




THtE STYLE OF CONVERSATION.   281
circles, what he would have meant for refinement,
would seem to us, in the present time, the height of
brainless affectation. In double-refined circles, not
only are all scriptural ideas avoided, but the very
words in which they are wont to be clad. Evangelical
religion, with all its accompaniments, always must be
as it always has been, obsolete, antique, and in bad
fashion among them. WVe must venture to say that
were we to strip the sacred volume of the venerable
garb which it has so long worn, and, pranking it in
a suit of modern coxcombry, to introduce it to the
fashionable circle, to make graceful obeisance, and
speak to fine ladies in polite circumlocutions, it would
soon lose cast there, and become as impolite as ever.
What of heaven was left about it, in its new guise,
would be enough to chill and repel the fashionable
patrons it sought, and it would be voted, like a waning beauty, to be " ca littlefcaded."
When Col. Gardiner, after his conversion, carried
amid his old associates his finished courtesy and
dignity of manner, they did not save him from being
counted unfashionable. His new love for prophets
and apostles, his attachment to the Decalogue and
the Sermon on the M3ount, were sufficient to forfeit
for him the smiles, the sympathies and the plaudits
that once awaited him. The world hated him, because it hated his new AMaster. Whilst Christians,
then, are sedulously to avoid giving to the world
aught of needless scandal, they are not to flatter
themselves that anything short of God's regenerating grace can abate and annihilate the old " OFFENCE
OF THE CROSS.  
We should aim in our intercourse with society, to




282    THE STYLE OF CONVERSATION.
convey religious ideas in a vehicle as finished and
comely as fidelity to the truth will admit. Yet propriety does not require us to keep clear of those
scriptural words and phrases which, though the vulgar and the vicious have prostituted them, have not
essentially any offensive signification.  It is decidedly improper to turn aside from such a word,
where from the connection its utterance is expected,
or to manifest any misgivings or confusion in pronouncing it. It is silently informing the hearers,
that we are no strangers to those vile people who defile the privileged vernacular of every child of God,
and he informs those who would otherwise never
have known it, that the word has a bad sense. If
we are not to use any of the words that have, at
sundry times, been vulgarized, we must refrain from
speaking English altogether.  With a view to guard
the language against such spoliations, all who, by
any sad accident, have heard words used in a low
signification, should be careful not to betray their
degenerate knowledge in respectable society, and so
leave others in holy ignorance of the corruptions of
human speech. [M5en of taste take this course; and
it is. a significant fact, that there are many words and
expressions very freely used in the most cultivated
circles, which are scrupulously shunned as indecent
by the rude and vicious, on occasions of formal inter.
course with the more refined orders, and withl one
another.
Besides words which, originally or in a secondary
sense, have no indelicate or vulgar meaning, but
which have received such significations from persons
of depraved taste, there are others which were




THE  STYLE  OF CONVERSATION.   283
originally significant of gross and material ideas,
but are often used  figuratively to denote spiritual
operations or other moral or religious notions. MTords
of the latter class are, for the most part, to be avoided,
for though some of them are very expressive and forcible, they almost always lead the mind of the hearer
from the figurative and becoming, to the literal and
indecorous import.30
John Foster, in his third and fourth letters on the
aversion of Tmen of taste to evangelical religion, condemns the free use of certain words of the received
version which are obsolete, and recommends the substitution of current synonymes. I-e would also have
us avoid words which belong to the theological dialect and religious cant, allowing us, however, in
speaking on religious subjects, to use all such scriptural words and technical ternis for which equivalent
words and terms cannot be found except in the form
of definition or circumlocution. But grave changes
in the lang7cuae of religion have generally heralded,
and have universally occasioned a desertion of the
true ideas taught in the language so relinquished.
It is a significant fact, that the great innovators in
religious phraseology have been, nearly to a man,
innovators in doctrine, and some of them notoriously
and fatally heretical. In the ancient church, the
30 We need not cite examples of this class of words. They will
readily occur to every reader. On this subject Cicero remarks: "FLagienda est omnis turpitudo earum rerum, adquas eorum animos, qui
audiunt, trahit similitudo. Nolo morte dici Africani castratam esse republicam: nolo stercus curiae dici Glauciam: quamvis sit simile, tamlle
est in utroque deformis cogitatio similitudinis. De Oratore, 1. iii, c. xli.
The adjective, pregnant, is one of the least exceptionable of this
class.




284   THE  STYLE  OF CONVERSATION.
Alexandrian school of Philosophy, Syresius, the Platonist, the Gnostics, and the Rationalizing branch of
the Mystics, are exemplifications of this remark.
Such  substitutions  create a  chasm  instead of a
bridge between the secular and thie inspired mind.
And further, as to what are called the obsolete words
of our version, they are not and never can be obsolete in the sense in which those of a mere secular
work are so; and the current of the best writing is
at present rather in favor of restoring to the ordinary
dialect than of removing some of these old, dishonored, but honorable words.3
In attempting to express religious ideas with plainness, precision and force, Christians sometimes venture to coin words and form unlicensed alliances of
words. Thus have many awkward forms of speech
crept into evangelical literature, and received the
sanction of the best usage. It may at times be necessary to coin a word for immediate use, and ones
taste is put to the test by such extemporaneous inventions.  Butler accuses Hudibras of a want of
judgment in this particular..... "he could coin or counterfeit
New words with little or no wit;
Words so debased and hard, no stone
Was hard enough to touch them on;
And when with hasty noise he spoke'em
The ignorant for current took'enm."
The words which are sanctioned by good usage fail
in muany cases to give full expression to the feelings
31 Robert Hall, fastidious as he was, made some just animadversions
on the opinions advanced in the letters above mentioned, in his Review
of Foster's Essays.




TH E STYLE OF CONVERSATION.   285
of the pious soul. None but those who have undertaken to write on religious subjects, can know how
meagre our language is in approved materials for the
elegant treatment of them. This meagreness is nowhere more manifest than in the department of Christian experience,-here a distinguished man of letters,
himself an author of the first rank, pleasantly checks
my pen with the remark; " I trespass upon your good
nature; but have you read what lViacaulay has written
on the range, richness, and power of John Bunyan's
dialect as it is unfolded in a book strictly and exclusively of religiJous experience-' The Grace Abounding?' I am ready, sir, to pit that book for power
and compass of expression, against nearly any classic
of the language-rneo jpericulo, as Bentley said."
" Thank you, sir, for the suggestion," I reply; but
with submission, I must ask whether even Bunyan,
mighty in the Saxon as lie was, never felt that his
graphic words gave his readers very insufficient notions of his wonderful experience? If I happen to
understand myself, the idea I would be driving at is,
that every writer, be his command of language what
it may, must feel his poverty whenever he attempts
to clothe his ideas of experience in an elegant garb.
But let that pass; every human language must of
necessity be defective here, though none perhaps is
less so than our own. The various feelings of the
renewed heart can be indicated only by the most
vague expressions. Many of these states of mind
must ever in this life remain unknown to all but the
soul itself. As soon as a man is regenerated, he becomes, in many respects, a stranger and a foreigner




286   THE STYLE OF CONVERSATION'.
in these lower regions; while his mind has undergone a radical change, its medium of communication
with other minds remains the same.  He must then,
while here, be content to use the language of idolatrous Egypt, and to hold converse with his fellowmortals by broken accents and rude signs, till he
goes up to the celestial Canaan, where he will find a
language copious enough to answer all the demands
of his ever-growing faculties.
Christians should, in general, address one another
by the appellative " brother" or " sister" only in
religious assemblies, and in secular companies which
are mostly composed of fellow-disciples, and ill
talking on religious subjects. These terms of address are most properly used among those who are
nearly equal in age, office and honor. The fact that
we are " all one in Christ" does not annul those laws
of courtesy which require us to address people by
their civil and ecclesiastical titles. It is true that,
among Protestants, when one who is our superior
has no such title, we are compelled to call him
" brother" unless we style him " father," which we
have high authority for doing, even though he be
not our superior as to age. A marked superiority
in piety, wisdom, learning or usefulness, is sufficient
to license the use of this appellative, and a convert
may properly use it in speaking to or of the man by
whom hle rwas led to believe. In conversing with
those who erroneously confine the appellation to aged
Christians, we do well to conform to their usage. It
is a safe rule to apply it to those aged persons only
who are thus addressed by general consent.  A




THtE  STYLE OF CONVERSATION.   287
clergyman calls another clergyman " brother," but
if the latter bears the title of " Bishop," " Doctor of
Divinity," or " Professor," he addresses him by these
titles. We should not call any person " father,"
" mother," " brother," or " sister," who has not been
formally recognized as a Christian by a church:
neither can we with any propriety give these endearing titles to those who do not belong to evangelical
denominations.
It is not advisable, in ordinary cases, to use the
phrases "God willing," "Deo Ivolente," "By Divine
permission,"'" With leave of Divine Providence," in
publishing a religious meeting. It is to be presumed
that God is willing that men should worship him at
any time. True, it may be objected that He may
not be willing that announced speakers should live
to fulfill their published appointments. But it remains to be proved, that so far as divine worship is
concerned, God is not willing his servants should
live'to engage in it. He may have other reasons for
calling them out of the world before the anticipated
service; yet surely he would be willing they should
live to praise him, were there no other reasons for
their departure. If any one quotes against us these
words of Paul to the Corinthians, "I will come to
you shortly, if the Lord will," we reply, that had
Paul intended to go from Ephesus, where he was sojourning at the time, to Corinth directly by sea, he
would have needed at least sixteen days; but if, as
is more probable, he intended to take the land-route,
he would have consumed full thirty days in the journey. And when we consider the dangers and hardships to which a traveller, and especially an apostle,




288    THIE STYLE OF CONVERSATION.
was in that age exposed, we must conclude that it
was no small undertaking-equal to that of a modern
voyage from New York to Corinth. But inasmuch
as he was not certain that he could visit them at all,
it is likely that the phrase, " If God will," refers to
the time either of his setting out on, or of his ending
his journey, rather than to the perils of the way.
The use of the adverb "shortly," favors this interpretation. In either case, the language of the apostle is no precedent for the usage in question, nor, we
may add, for its being used in speaking of our ordinary vocations or engagements. The use of these
phrases on all occasions sounds too much like cant.
The proprietors of the stage-lines in England, used
formerly to advertise that " they would be through
by such a time, God willing"! The language of the
Apostle James is, "Go to now, ye that say'to-day
or to-morrow we will go into such a city and continue there a yeasr, and buy and sell and get gcain..' 
These phrases are properly employed only in speaking of a very important undertaking, whether religious or secular, the results of which are quite remote
and uncertain; such as a voyage, a journey, or a
new and very hazardous enterprize of any kind.
This direction of James, however, was designed,
not so much to guide us in speaking as in thinking
of God's providence. We ought, no doubt, habitually and at all times to feel that we and all our
projects and works are in an Almighty and Allwise
hand; but where is the propriety of formally alluding to the fact on all occasions? Those who scrupulously use the phrases in question, as multitudes do,




THE STYLE OF CONVERSATION.   289
without any wonted realization of their meaning,
come farther short of the requirement than those
who continually cherish a sense of the Divine Sovereignty, while they are less punctilious as to forms
of speech.
N




CHAPTER XVIIL
PHYSICAL HABITS IN CONVERSATION.
DISTINCTNESS of pronunciation is desirable in fa.
miliar talk, though it is not so needful in conversations as in orations, lectures, and sermons. Here we
are occasionally allowed " to speak trippingly on the
tongue" while " mouthing," and a laborious coining
of syllables, are the sure marks of bad sense and bad
taste. To talk without effort, either of thought or
tongue, is charming, especially on gay themes, so it
be not attended with heedlessness and  thoughtlessness. Nothing is more vexatious than precipitancy and abruptness. These faults, it is true, often
result from the nature of the sentiment expressed.
On this point, Sir William Temple has a good idea.
He says, " Good breeding is as necessary in conversation, to finish all the rest, as grace in motion and
dancing. It is harder to dance a courant well than
a jig; so in conversation, easy and agreeable sentiments are more difficult than points of wit, which,
unless they fall of themselves naturally and not too
often, are disliked in good company, because they
pretend to more than the rest, and turn conversation
from good sense to wit, from pleasantry to ridicule,
which are the meaner parts."  The tongue should
commonly dance the courant, so it does not dance
all night.




PHYSICAL HABITS IN CONVERSATION. 291
Lord Bacon has the following wise remarks on
speaking leisurely: " In all kinds of speech, pleasant,
grave, severe, or ordinary, it is convenient to speak
leisurely and rather drawlingly than hastily; because
hasty speech confounds the memory, and oftentimes,
besides the unseemliness, drives a man either to
stammering, a nonplus, or harping on that which
should follow; whereas a slow speech confirmeth the
memory, addeth a conceit of wisdom to the hearers,
besides a seemliness of speech and countenance."
It is a valuable fact that we can keep our temper
equable and pleasant by attending to the key in
which we speak. A low tone is best when we are
angry. By addicting ourselves to speak in a subdued and melodious voice, we can greatly improve a
hasty and imperious disposition. There is a singular
and useful speculation on the Music of Speech in the
second volume of the Philosophical Transactions.
The tenor of the writer's article here follows: "Sitting in some company," says the writer, "and having been but a little before musical, I chanced to
take notice that, in ordinary discourse, words were
spoken in perfect notes; and that some of the company used eighths, some fifths, some thirds, and that
those were most pleasing whose words as to their tone
consisted most of concords; and where of discords,
of such as constituted harmony; and the same person was the most affable, pleasant, and best-natured
in the company. And this suggests the reason why
many discourses which one hears with much pleasure,
when they come to be q'ead scarcely seem the same
things. From this difference of music in speech, we
may also conjecture that of tempers. We know the




292 PHYSICAL HABITS IN CONVERSATION.
Doric mood sounds gravity and sobriety; the Lydian,
freedom; the zEolic, sweet stillness and composure;
the Phrygian, jollity and youthful levity; the Doric
soothes the storms and disturbances arising from the
passions. And why may we not reasonably suppose
that those whose speech naturally runs into the notes
peculiar to any of these moods, have a corresponding
disposition?"
Accordingly, we must beg to recommend that some
ladies and gentlemen put themselves under the discipline of a singing-master, and devote a few evenings to the gamut before they venture more to rasp the
ears of their friends and foes at home and abroad.
What a inillenium would it be if spinsters could only
be persuaded to spend less time in biting their lips,
and more in seeing that they be the channels of a
clear, bland, and mellifluous speech! Would that
young ladies would occasionally lay aside the harp
and the guitar, to chant the prose they are used to
speak so untunably in the ears of their parents, and
brothers and sisters. Would that MBadame Whiner
might exchange her eye-glasses, or her gold watch,
or her gold cross, for a pitch-pipe, and especially
send her dear poodle to the shambles, whose squeaking noise she is in great danger of copying. I will
leave "the music of the spheres" to aeronauts, if
you will only give me the music of a kind and goodnatured human voice. But we must also guard her
against speaking in too soft and languishing accents,
as if she were ever on the point of expiring.
A natural or affected hissing is sometimes produced
by striking the tongue against the edges of the teeth,
particularly if they are artificial.  Besides being




PHYSICAL HABITS IN CONVERSATION. 293
rather disagreeable, it makes one throw out saliva.
Too large a tongue will produce this habit, while too
small a one may produce stammering. I WVhispering
and reading aloud with a view to these faults, if persevered in, will generally correct them. The pronunciation may be made thick and indistinct by too much
saliva in the mouth. In this case, it should always
be swallowed before beginning to speak, and at intervals while talking. Attention to these trifling
hints would greatly improve some people's elocution.
We frequently meet with loud laughers and talkers, whose whole aimn is to draw off the attention of
the company from what they are engaged in, and
fix it upon themselves. This is the common artifice of vain young ladies and dandies, whose highest
enjoyments in society consist of laughing, stamping the feet, and clapping the hands. Nor can I
pass over the set of whisperers who, when any one
comes into the room, duck down their heads, and
inquire who he is, or tell all they know about him;
at the same time staring him full in the face, or, in
a tone just audible to the bystanders, speak about
private affairs, and ask, "  How is that matter coming
on?"
Beware of indulging in too many and extravagant
gestures. Be not so cautious, however, as to put
your hands into your pockets, and, when standing,
swing your body to and fro like the dancers in a seraglio. Dr. Johnson once, in company, laid hold of
the hands of a pantomimic little Frenchman, and
held them fast. Hie disliked gestures. -Iis opinion
on the subject is given in his life of Dr. Watts, who
thought they were of little use even in preaching.




294  PHYSICAL HABITS IN CONVERSATION.
Bult an avoidance of all gesture is affectation, unless
a man has been smitten with a palsy. Some sanguine and volatile people toss about their limbs in
conversation as nimbly as they do their tongues. To
witness their actions for five minutes is enough to
make one resolve never to lift his finger again. They
remind one of the old actors in comedies: when they
said nemini they would point to the back part of
their head; when they said video, they would put
their fingers in their eyes.
Some deem it a mark of respect ever to eye those
whom they are talking with. It is a good practice in
general, but it is a bad one in particular. There
are those who will watch your eye intently, that they
may ascertain the effects of their discourse, or keep
their necks awry when they are seated at your side.
It is a mark of modesty in children to turn their faces
towards, but not to look at a stranger who is speaking to them. Then, there are shyand nervous people,
who do not like to be continually confronted by the
visage of the talker. Nevertheless, if a person be
not deaf, it is an incivility for him to keep his ear
steadily turned towards the speaker.




CHAPTER XVIII.
PREPARATION FOR CONVERSATION.
PREPARATION for talking should; for the most part.
be indirect. The observation, thought, and reading
of years, on a wide range of subjects, are a more reliable aid than special preliminaries for talking on a
particular subject or at an appointed time.  Most
conversations are of a rambling and desultory char.
acter, so that it is not often practicable to put forth a
prepared opinion, or to bring others to take sides on
our favorite question. The attempt sometimes has axt
air of malapropos and abruptness; it opposes the
general mood, and makes the circle formal and unfree. It is said that William Wilberforce used to
note down the topics to be started; and this; perhaps, is all that is allowable to one who is expected
to lead off a talk. Johnson, who was mighty in conversation, said he wished one day's notice if he was
to meet Lord Thurlow. It would imply, that in that
case he intended to make some preparation, and that in
other cases he did not reject all "cramming " for the
rencontre. Little reliance, however, is to be placed
on themes previously chosen, inasmuch as it often
happens that he who is expected to take the lead can
only do so by adapting himself to the spirit and character of the company. Still, he must not be so com



296  PREPARATION  FOR CONVERSATION.
plaisant to the ruling tone as to start indecent topics;
like the elder Walpole, who said he always talked
bawdry at his table, that all might be able to bear a
part. The chief converser is, in a great degree, answerable for the spirit of the company, and has it in
his power to turn it into a high and useful channel.
And, by-the-bye, every one should go into society
with a purpose to turn subjects broached there to good
account; he will, in this way, be more useful than by
a direct aim to converse on none but serious topics.
Themes of general interest are preferable to all
others. Among these are religion, morals, politics,
education, nature, art, science, literature, health, and
the weather. Next to these must be ranked those
which are of a purely local kind, and interesting only
to certain coteries. Lastly, those which concern only
private individuals. The latter are admissible only
among relatives and friends.
The themes generally current in town differ from
those in the country. This holds true among almost
all ranks. Religious people in the country talk more
frequently and intelligibly on scriptural and moral
subjects. People of fashion in the country talk more
intellectually than the same class in town. Horace
says that the conversation in Rome ran on the villas,
families of foreigners, and the theatre; while, in the
country, the questions discussed were whether riches
or virtue more becomes man; whether utility or rectitude more influences us in forming our friendships;
what is the nature of good, and what is perfection.
The same distinction, in the main, exists to this day.
The variety and interest of events in town are unfavorable to meditation, philosophizing, and discussion.




PREPARATION FOR CONVERSATION.  297
Objects of the senses are more talked of than those
of thought, and matters of taste in preference to those
of utility. In general, there is less of what is local
and pedantic in town talk, and more of books and
human nature in rural discourse. In town, the scandal is chiefly confined to the newspaper; in the country, it is circulated by the drones of the village. It
is a propensity of the ignorant, in all situations, to
allow trivial matters to engross their talks. A rumor, an accident, or a neighborhood quarrel, or a
family feud, a trial before the justice of the peace,
or the fieak of a school-boy —these are enough to keep
their tongues in perpetual motion. So vacant is the
life of the illiterate, that the slightest occurrence is
magnified into an event of vast importance, even as,
to travellers in a desert the smallest shrub which
lifts its head above the unbroken waste, awakens an
interest which a forest would not in one who was
passing through a fertile region.
Reading adds to one's stock of ideas, and consequently to the subjects of discourse. Histories, biographies, books of travel and of the natural sciences,
reviews, newspapers, narratives of recent events, and
an extensive correspondence, furnish the best matter
for general conversation. To those who would be
qualified for the company of the educated and the
refined, some knowledge of the art of painting, sculpture, music, poetry, eloquence, the sciences, professional information, and current literature, are highly
valuable.  The Christian  and all others indeed,
should add to these an acquaintance with ecclesiastical history general and denominational, missionary
intelligence, reports of benevolent operations, and
N*T~




298 PREPARATION FOR CONVERSATION.
evangelical literature, especially biographies of pious
persons.
But above all, the converser should have a thorough
knowledge of the Bible.  He should make its pages
his daily study, and read such commentaries and
other works as serve to illustrate its truths, clear up
its obscurities, and discuss its doctrines. Its theology,
morals, laws, history, poetry, and eloquence, should
be familiar to him.  Such a knowledge will give him
a great advantage in all companies; for there are
few books of which the generality live in such miserable ignorance, as of the book which reveals their
eternal destiny.  It is no despicable acquisition to
be versed  in  a book  which has for thousands of
years been fixing the fate of other books, either
lending them its protection, or sinking them in oblivion in tho calm shadow of its reprobation-which
has set up and cast down thrones, appointed the
bounds of empires, and  marked  out the track of
civilization, given wisdom to the sagest lawgivers,
furnished models even for the  highest secular eloquence and poetry,32 and is now putting to the proof
all creeds and all deeds. But its crowning merit has
82 The Lake Poets, as they have been somewhat vaguely called,
Wordsworth, Coleridge, and Southey, dwellers for a season or permanently beside the Lakes of Westmoreland, have exercised a strong
influence on English literature. De Quincey, himself a high proficient
in the language, and in literary criticism, traces a part at least of their
power to their admiration and use of the scriptural dialect. Fisher
Ames, in his earlier time, the great orator of New England, was wont
to recommend the Scriptures as a fountain of style; and the yet higher
son of New England, who has recently gone to the grave amid the regrets and gloom of the nation-Daniel Webster-was an earnest admirer and student of the same Divine Volume, as a repository of great
images and phrases, no less than of great and peerless facts.




PREPARATION FOR CONVERSATION.  299
not been mentioned. It was the sole guide of multitudes of pilgrims who are now reposing in paradise:
on it rest the hopes of all the excellent now on earth,
and is to be the trust of all saints in all the ages
which are yet beyond us.
It may not be amiss here to say, that though conversers cannot too highly prize the Bible, some of them
may be in danger of nmistaking its design and province. It was intended to give us light as to religion
and morals alone, and those who continually refer to
it as authority on other subjects, do, in the estimation of unbelievers, lessen its authority within its
own sphere.  Though the oracles of God contain
much scientific knowledge, it was not to instruct
mankind in this that they were given to us.
The converser should ever be pursuing a course of,reading. I-le cannot at any time lay aside books,
without leaving a void in his mind, which he can
only fill by subsequent diligence. He who neglects
the news of a single week, may be ignorant oT the
one event on which those of a whole year, nay, century, shall turn. And he who omits glancing at the
new publications of the passing month may overlook
the one book of the age, the last miracle of genius.
And as the converser must be continually parting
with his knowledge, so unless he is continually adding to his store. he is driven either to seek new society, or to afflict his old acquaintance with repetitions. It is a very simple precept, yet one so valuable that it is thought worth being ascribed to an
ancient philosopher, that " If you wish your lamp to
emit light, you must feed it with oil."
We frequently hear it said that the prevailing rage




300  PREPARATION FOR CONVERSATION.
for reading, leaves the people little leisure for conversation, and less for meditation, which alone can make
conversation a solid advantage. In some cases, it is to
be feared, it has wrought this result; as to the mass
of the people, however, it would seem to be otherwise.
How can there be less thinking than formerly, when
the present habit of reading must suggest a thousand
subjects of thought and discourse, where there was
but one before; how can there be, when the attention, perception, judgment, and imagination, which
are necessarily exercised in most sorts of reading, are
thereby better fitted for application to any subject
whatever, than they would have been without such
exercise? And inasmuch as those who are considered great readers, are left to their own thoughts
for some part of every day, they lack neither leisure
for thinking nor preparation for it, as regards discipline and matter. Nor does much reading necessarily
put an end to independence and originality of thinking. Ignorance is quite as destructive of these qualities as knowledge; prejudice, popular opinion, and
common sense, as it is vulgarly understood (i. e., the
mind's first thoughts and first feelings), are Goths and
Vandals, that trample down all intellectual freedom
and power. It is only the great reader that can
know when he is engaged in original thinking; it is
by his researches alone that he can ascertain what
regions of thought lie untraversed; and not being ill
doubt as to whether he is tracing an old path or a
new, he presses forward with all the self-reliance and
enthusiasm of an explorer.
Another means of preparation for conversation is
the hearing of lectures. It is complained that a




PREPARATION FOR CONVERSATION. 301
rage for lyceum lectures encroaches upon conversation-meetings; not so much because it disables the
mind for preparatory reflection, as because it con.
sumes the time which would otherwise have been
devoted to conversation, and begets a race of smatterers in superficial and second-hand knowledge. As
to the question of time, were people to go to lectures
every evening, or were they to spend the whole of
every evening in hearing them, then might we make
our moan over the imaginary desolations of conversation-rooms; but extremely few have gone so far
mad after lectures as to run to them every evening,
and those who have, contrive to find time enough
before and after lectures to open and canvass their
opinions on all sorts of subjects. The hearing of
lectures, so far from laying the tongues of people to
rest, always drives thenm to greater activity; and. we
have scarcely ever known a single tongue to move
any long time in public, that did not set a good
many more going in private, There is more occasion for the other lamentation, to wit, that mere lecture-going diffuses among the generality secondhand and superficial knowledge. All kinds of lectures, save those that are upon subjects which need
illustrating by experiments, do not fix in the memory
so large an amount of information as the same time
improved in reading would do. The lecturer pushes
forward to the conclusion, all along taking for granted that hearers are not wanting in attention, perception, and memory; hence, the many who are
wanting in one or more of these faculties, fail to
profit by hearing a lecture to the same degree that
they would by reading it at theil leisure. In that




302  PREPARATION FOR CONVERSATION.
case they could read the more weighty or abstruse
parts repeatedly, or if their attention flagged in other
portions, they could go over the ground anew.
Greater evils are, in my poor judgment, hatched out
of theforbidcden knowledge, than out of the superficial knowledge taught in popular lectures; the
stealing of such knowledge was the killing sin of our
first parents, and repetitions of this primal theft are
likely to be the killing sins of all generations of their
children; but let that pass. WTe fear that the mischief growing out of superficial knowledge is very
generally supposed to be greater than it really is.
Those lines of the poet, so incessantly quoted, beginning, " Drink deep, or taste not the Pierian spring,"
are too often construed into ill advice, inasmuch as a
little of a good thing is better than none, and as intoxication from shallow knowledge is better than
drunkenness from deep ignorance, though both are
bad enough, forthat matter. So far as the masses of
the people are concerned, the question to be decided
is not whether they shall acquire much knowledge
or little, but whether they shall acquire little or none
at all. There are multitudes who at nightfall find
their minds so jaded with the business or dissipated
with the pleasures of the day, that they have no heart
to bend down to the earnest work of reading, but can
muster attention enough to listen to what a tolerable
lecturer has to say on a passably interesting theme.
Such people will make better conversers by hearing
a lecture occasionally, than they would were they to
spend the same time in idleness or in the vain endeavor to read. Another thing; it is not absolutely
necessary that they should be thoroughly acquainted




PREPARATION FOR COVERSATION. 303
with a subject in order to take part in a conversation
about it; if, however, they would take a prorrdnent
part or take the lead-they do well to arm themselves
at all points. Those who are not made better talkers
will be made better listeners by the bits and ends
of facts and principles which they in this way pick
up; they will not listen with the blank stare and
confused manner of those who have yet to dream
their first dream concerning the subject of talk. But
the indirect benefits flowing from lectures are the
largest tributaries to conversation; the lecturer exciting in many of his hearers a literary curiosity,
sets them upon a long and useful course of reading if not study, and so leads them away to distant
and sequestered sources of information: exhibiting
to them a few specimens of the ore of knowledge,
they go and dig for themselves, and bring back
a large amount of the same precious metal, and
make it a circulating medium in the trade of conversation.
Habits of careful observation also add to the treasures of the converser.  The books of nature, animate and inanimate, spiritual and material, lie open
before every man, but one dozes over them, another
gives them a hurried reading, and another makes
them a careful study; the same may be said of the
arts and sciences. The difference as to knowledge
between one who observes and one who does not is
immense: it is almost the difference between the
living and the dead. Lock up the one in a dungeon
and he will compose a system of mental philosophy;
lock up the other and he will mJerely ascertain that
he is in the dark. The one, after a short excursion




304  PREPARATION FOR CONVERSATION.
into the country, returns full of interesting accounts
of his discoveries; the other, after circumnavigating
our planet, returns home only to tell us that lie has
voyaged round the world, and perchance brought
home the scurvy.
Again, he who would talk judiciously must add
meditation to reading and observation. This will
enable him to form correct judgments concerning the
ideas with which reading and observation have supplied him. A man of thought makes the notions of
others his own, by what he adds to or takes from
them, by weighing them so as to stamp them with
their just value, and by the feelings they rouse and
the conduct they actuate. The reader who talks without previous meditation, is only a retailer of secondhand thoughts, which have cost him nothing but the
storage, and have perhaps become mouldy by the
keeping. If at any time he embraces a new doctline-and every novelty takes with himn-he can
offer no reason for adding another article to his
creed. IHe forms his opinions amidst the hurry of
talking, and of course often makes assertions in this
circle which he contradicts in that. As he never
ponders a subject, so his feelings are not proportional to its importance; he talks now fervently on
the most paltry themes, and now coolly on momentous ones. Or, if he is of a cautious turn, he is at a
loss to decide on the plainest question, or speaks so
guardedly that his mind seems always hovering on
the dusky confines of light and darkness. He is so
near the domnains of Error, and is in so remote a
province of Truth, that the latter is not proud to call
him her own.




PREPARATION FOR CONVERSATION. 305
Meditation will prepare the Christian to talk profitably on the subject of Christian experience, enabling him to separate gracious affections from-feelings which have been induced by the temperament,
or by disease, or sympathy, or animal excitement,
and bringing him to look with suspicion on all experiences which do not result in some practical virtue.
Ile will be profited by a discriminating and cautious
reading of such works as "Augustine's Confessions,"
"Bunyan's Grace Abounding," and " Halyburton's
Memoirs."  It is from a want of due reflection
and study on the subject of their experiences, that
Christians make it so small a part of their conversations; a subject which, if properly handled, has the
wonder of a miracle, the thrilling interest of adventure,
and the enchantment of poetry, blending together
the highest excitement of perils incurred, and the most
dazzling splendors of hope newly risen and never to set.
Let the Christian also think of the attributes and
government of God-the character, offices and mission of our Redeemer-the person and work of the
Holy Spirit-our disobedience, misery and obligations, the history of churches, missionary operations
among heathens, Mohaulmmedans, Jews, Romanists,
and others-Bible, tract and educational societies,
especially the relation of these societies to ourselves
and the church to which we belong; the best plans
for bringing evangelical truth to bear upon the comniunity in which we live, by means of Sunday schools,
prayer meetings, and tract distributions. Though
words can never evangelize the world, yet, if these
enterprizes occupy our hearts and our hands as much
as they ought, they will naturally claim a share in




806 PREPARATION FOR CONVERSATION.
our conversations. One of the vast and urgent problems of our time is the relief of pauperism, and
the mediating reconciliation of government between
the oppressions of Capital and the anarchy of Labor.  In a high civilization, the clefts and rifts of
want and vice seem deepening and darkening towards the abyss of Brutalism and Despair, as the
heights of Luxury and Refinement still ascend and
tower higher and higher into the freezing regions of
Heartlessness and Pride. In what manner the unfailing Gospel shall be brought most directly and
vigorously to bear against the.evils of this contrast
and dissonance, becomes to the lover of that Gospel
a question of the highest interest from its bearings
alike on polity, charity, and religion.
The Christian converser should also reflect on the
dealings of Providence with nations, churches, and
individuals. If in every event and in the most common occurrences may be discerned the hand of God,
how comes it to pass that so little is thought or said
of this important truth by those who believe that
they are themselves led by that hand? And how
does it happen that they are used to call only unaccountable and extraordinary events " providences,"
as if we were always unmindful that the Lord reigns,
except when we are startled by some great stroke of
the Divine policy? Though the heathens err in
rnaking a god of everything, they are wiser than
some Christians in this, that they see God in everything. Let the pious converser regard it as a becoming duty to notice those unobtrusive instances of
the Divine superintendence which are too often overlooked by historians and philosophers.




PREPARATION FOR CONVERSATION.  307
Finally, let the converser contemplate the works
of Creation with a view to provide his mind with
matter for talk. Here he may range at large; those
who will not converse with him on other subjects
will on this. Let him then contemplate the garden,
or the prairie, either the flower which a lady's fingers
rear, or that which the ploughman's foot crushes
to the earth; the field of grain waving in the westwind and shadowed with the passing cloud, or the
dark primeval forest; the sands and oases of the desert, the mountain with its mantle of snow and its
girdle of clouds, or the valley where dwells perpetual spring; the lake, the river, the cataract and the
ocean-the earth with all its living and departed
tribes: its modern and ancient changes, organic
and inorganic —the heavens with their old and new
Worlds, all that the naked eye beholds around, the
microscope beneath, and the telescope above us.
Let him behold in the works of nature the wisdom
and goodness of God. But these alone?  Nay, verily. God's severity also is seen in the black cloud and
the storm-wind; the mountain-wave and the waterspout; the thick darkness and the thunder-clap; the
quaking earth and the flaming volcano. And it is
He who sends the piercing cold, and the damnp,
misty, and lowering day; that instead of alwa)ys
looking abroad, we might betimes turn our thoughts
back upon themselves, and that we might believe
his word when we cannot see his smiles. He causes
the thunder to be heard along with the falling rain,
and darts the lightning athwart the bow of promise,
that we might remember that he is a God of justice
as well as of love.




308   PREPARATION FOR CONVERSATION.
Some advisers would have us conceal our ignorance in conversation, so that if we know little or
nothing of the subject broached, we may yet discourse on it with confidence and seeming intelligence.  Now, we cannot counsel any one to make a
show of knowledge he does not possess. Such an
action deserves no better name than dissimulation,
and often amounts to falsehood. Let us never be
loth to own our ignorance whether it be avoidable or
unavoidable: he who is thus ingenuous, will gain
the friendship and the confidence of all wise and
learned men.  If he is not already knowing, he
eventually will be. The rod with which he chastises
his ignorance will goad him on to knowledge.
The last preparation for the converscazione, which
we shall mention, is self-conversation. Whatever
knowledge we may derive from the above mentioned
sources-to which we might add, an intercourse with
the world-it cannot stand us in stead of an acquaintance with our own obliquities and failings.
And let the tone of the companies we frequent be
ever so devout, and the spiritual benefits we receive
from them be ever so great, if we do not join selfcommunion with such conversations we may be quite
sure that we are not making them in the highest degree beneficial to us.33
33 "Hlie that would teach man's heart must learn his own.
Up with thy torch then in that cavern drear,
Nor shut thine eyes when hideous forms appear;
By the red flare from fearful darkness thrown,
To thee must passion's motley brood be known,
Dark elves of thought, foul imps of guilty fear,
Keen judgment's flash, which shows the vast and drear,
Threatening in hideous ruin to come down.




PREPAFATION FOR CONVERSATION. 309
Self-discourse aids us in gaining a knowledge of
human nature than which nothing is more valuable
to the converser. The whole race is formed after one
archetype, and all are alike in the main lineaments.
To be sure a great deal is to be learned by studying
men as we find them influenced by a variety of circumstances. The multiform temptations to evil and
encouragements to good which are set before them,
bring to light many principles which might else
have remained in the dark.  While this is to be
granted, it must not be overlooked that we may possibly be versed in human nature as it is in other
men, and yet be ignorant of human nature as it is
in ourselves. It is this latter that is especially advantageous to us in the commerce of society.  The
homely remark, often made respecting any one who
has tact and address, that " he understands himself," is literally true, if it be true at all; for such
a one will be found to owe more or less of his skill
to self-knowledge. I-e who is ignorant of his own
character is in danger of neglecting the proprieties
which are due to others; he who should so mistake
his own stature as to think himself a pigmy, would
be in continual fear of being trod upon, while he
who should fancy hinself a giant, might think he
could tread upon others with impunity.
Unscared through gloom of conscience thou must grope,
Through passages of tortuous self must wind,
And keep undimmed thy light, untorn thy clue.
So shalt thou learn to sound thy brother's mind,
So minister to faith, so help to hope,
So teach to shun the false, and seize the true."
Rev. ROBERT WILSON EVANS.




310 PREPARATION FOR CONVERSATION.
There is, perhaps, no precept in the sacred writings
which should be more frequently practised in conversation than that which is called the golden rule;
and yet no one can duly observe it, who does not also
observe the golden rule of the Greeks, namely:
"Know thyself" —words which were blazoned in letters of gold over the door of the temple of Apollo at
Delphi. The former rule presupposes an accurate
acquaintance with our own master passions, prejudices, preferences, and antipathies. Without this, we
can behave neither justly nor pleasantly towards our
fellow-conversers. In all our talks, and especially
when we have parted from the circle, and the music
of the tongue has ceased to enchant us, it is wise to
ask ourselves questions like the following: "How
would I feel were I addressed on that subject or in
that manner? How would I be likely to interpret
such a remark, or bear such an insinuation concerning myself or my friend? How would I endure such
an exposure of my ignorance or folly?" Nothing
short of a profound self-knowledge can prepare us
to answer such questions aright.
As the thoughts which we entertain in retirement
are apt to disclose themselves in the unguarded intercourse of society, we should daily ask ourselves what
are our habitual ones, and take care that they always
be of such a character as will prompt kind, ingenuous, and cheerful discourse. If we do not wish to
betray enmity in our talk, we must not suffer it to
rankle in the breast; or if we would avoid boasting,
we must keep clear of self-flattery when we are left
to our own reflections; as fondly recalling our strokes
of wit or anecdotes, or thinking how much more ably




PREPARATION FOR CONVERSATION.  311
we could have handled a subject than another did,
how triumphantly we might have answered the opponent of another; but it is not possible to specify
all the recollections on which a vain mind dwells
with fondness.
Frequent self-discourse will keep our talks from
growing tedious and trite. People who always harp
upon the same topics, or repeat the same anecdotes, do well to form a habit of calling to mind all
their talks, and of marking to whom and where they
exhibited their darling thoughts. Those who have
had the honor of forming an acquaintance with themselves, and of faithfully cultivating it, do not ride a
hobby a great while, or if circumstances call them to
talk on the same subject frequently, they do not, on
all occasions, mount to the same pitch of vehemence,
nor use the same phrases and illustrations; by occasionally changing the caparisons of their hobby,
they make it pass for no hobby at all. In this way
they get the advantage of that tribe of critics who go
into society on purpose to find fault, or else to brand
people with absurd or scandalous names indicative
of their foibles. When a wise man learns that these
persons have so stigmatized him, he says nothing to
anybody but himself, and immediately begins to reform his manners, so that, should the name continue
to be applied to him, the thing may disappear, and
his enemies be proved unjust for any longer reproaching him with it.
The tongue is, of all our organs, the most ready
interpreter of the mind. It sends its roots far down
the throat towards the heart, as if to declare, by its
very situation, its close connection with "the inward




312  PREPARATION FOR CONVERSATION.
man."  It is to be governed only by governing the
mind, whose will is its law. In the work of selfconquest it is the last to leave the service of a rebellious heart; and when it has been gained, there is
nothing more to be won: "if any man offend not in
word, the same is a perfect man, and able also to
bridle the whole body." It is, therefore, only by the
practice of introspection, and by often taking our
minds to task, that this little and nimble member can
be controlled.
It will be a help to self-inquiry to consider what
opinions others are likely to form of our words, and
how they would sound were they to fall from the lips
of another. One of the resolutions of President Edwards was, "' Never to do anything which, if I should
see in another, I should count a just occasion to despise him for, or to think any way the more meanly
of him." WYe are such adepts in the art of finding
out the faults of others, that we can detect our own
most easily when in imagination we impute them to
another; by this means we are able to discover
many blemishes which before escaped observation,
as by the help of a mirror we can survey parts of our
persons which we could not see by direct vision.
Whoever has recalled at evening the conversations
of the day, or the talk of a single interview, and has
thought of the probable consequences of one misspoken word, must have wished that he had either
said less, or else had said nothing at all. Such a
self-recollection will convince him that, in general, it
is more wise to hold the tongue than to talk, and
teach him to guard his lips with ceaseless vigilance.
" Suppose," says Richard Baxter, "you were to write




PREPARATION FOR CONVERSATION. 313
down the idle words of a day-your own or any other
prattler's-and read them over at night, would you
not be ashamed of such a diary of vanity and confusion. Oh what a work might one thus write from
the mouths of idle talkers! What a shame would it
be to human nature! It would tempt one to question whether he be a reasonable creature, or whether
all be so, at least. Remember that all your words
are recorded by God and conscience, and that all
this medley must be reviewed and answered for."
Who has not cause to tremble at the thought, that
every unprofitable word he has spoken, is noted down
in the books which are to be opened in the day of
fintdl adjudication —when will be brought forward
records not only from the archives of heaven and of
conscience, but also from those of material nature.
It is the opinion of Laplace, that the curves which
are described by a single molecule of air, are subjected to laws as certain as those of the planetary orbits, and it has been shown that the movements of our
tongues give an impulse to the air, the results of
which will be forever discernible by an All-seeing
Eye; so that to use the words of Mr. Babbage, " the
atmosphere we breathe is the ever-living witness of
the sentiments we have uttered." We may add, that
the Omniscient Being who will behold all the effects
on the material universe, of one vibrating atom, will
also be witness to the effects on the moral universe,
of the pulses of every communicated thought, which,
in obedience to a higher law, is to be received and
registered by myriads of minds throughout eternity.
"Weigh well thy words," is the solemn warning
0




314 PREPARATION FOR CONVERSATION.
which both spirit and matter whisper in the ears of
every man.
"0 words! not from immortal mind alone
Immortal are ye sprung; let heaven and earth
Receive you, standing witness to your birth,
And send you back when many years are flown.
Not swallow comes imore surely to its own,
Nor nightingale renews her last year's mirth,
Than ye return, in plenty or in dearth,
Changed, yet the same: echo, yet living tone.
From weeping hearts where ye have brooded long,
From bosoms festering with deep offence,
From minds that on your promise full have fed,
To him that sent you ye return, all strong
In ancient sound, and doubly keen in sense;
Nor will ye take repulse, 0 things of dread:'
REmv. R. W. EVANs.




CHAPTER  XIX.
ACCOMPAN IMENTS OF CONVERSATION.
IN large mixed companies, as they are commonly
arranged, free and familiar conversation is out of the
question. There will be present strangers, whom we
do not feel at liberty to talk with on every topic, and
unconversable people who will not talk at all, having,
as said the despondent Frenchman of some taciturn
companion, a singular talent for silence. None but
the most general and commonplace subjects can
safely be started, and even these we are forced to
touch upon with extreme caution and brevity. The
knowing person must sacrifice his pleasure to ignorant people, or else they must sacrifice theirs to him;
and if a profitable conference is commenced, it is
soon broken off by bringing forward something else.
That the talk may be as unrestrained, and generally
engaged in as possible, a large company should part
off into small groups. Thus the separate circles will
be able to entertain themselves, being so small that
each person will have courage to say something, and
each easily hear what others say.  Conflagrations
act in circles, and the fire of conversation seems to
act in very small ones. These groups do away the
diffidence which is apt to prevail when people are
arranged along the walls like chairs in a hall. De




316 ACCOMPANIMENTS OF CONVERSATION.
Foe's solitary mariner, finding that he could not
tame his kids, or catch them by hedging them in a
field two miles in circumference, altered his plan,
and diminished the area of the enclosure fourteenfold.
Eating, as an accompaniment of talk, has something to recommend it. By this act various sorts
of people declare that they have common wants
and gratifications, and that they are so near an
equality as to warrant mutual affability. At dinners
we should not talk too much during the first course;
it discommodes the speaker and annoys the listener.
If we ever say anything, it should be something that
requires no reply, much less a refutation. It is not
honorable to attack our opponent when his mouth
is so occupied with masticating, that he cannot defend himself.  If he hesitates or seems confused,
the party may think he is nonplused by the arguments of his adversary, when he is only nonplused
by some delicious morsel. AMrs. Gore pleasantly
argues thus: "as nature has allowed but one organ
to perform the functions both of talking and eating, it
is clear to me that she never intended man should
speak and feed at the same time, but the contrary.
These two excellent faculties of our nature should
act separately, for when a good thing going into the
mouth meets a good thing coming out thereat, they
are almost sure to run foul of, and mar each other."
Above all things, do not start a vexed question as
soon as you have taken your place at the table. People are pugnacious when they are hungry, and will,
in all likelihood, deal severely with you if they are
called out at that time; besides, you run the risk of




ACCOMPANIMENTS OF CONVERSATION. 317
bringing down upon you the displeasure of the hostess, for preferring the debate to the dinner, and for
allowing it to grow cold while some gormand must
sit and be tantalized by the dishes which are brought
on. Yet the solemnity which is permitted to reign
from  first to last at many tables, is, to say the least,
altogether unscriptural: "Eat thy bread with joy,
and drink thy wine with a merry heart." (Eccl. ix. 7.)
The host and hostess should aim to lead their guests
into conversation, and not engross it all to themselves. In " the feast of reason " they are best entertained who are permitted to entertain.  The host and
hostess should, in due season-and the sooner the
better-be lost among their guests.  " If," says the
son of Sirach, " thou be made the master of the feast,
lift not thyself up, but be among them as one of the
rest; take diligent care of them, and so sit down.
And when thou hast done all thy office, take thy
place, that thou mayest be merry with them, and receive a crown for thy well-ordering of the feast."34
34 Tobacco smoking, as an accompaniment of household talk, is now
principally confined to vulgarians, and the Camanche Indians. Cowper, in his admirable poem on Conversation, makes a launch upon
those smoking colloquists who
"... with solemn interposing puff,
Make half a sentence at a time enough;
The dozing sages drop the dozing strain,
Then pause and puff, and speak and pause again.
Such often, like the tube they so admire,
Important triflers! have more smoke than fire.
Pernicious weed, whose scent the fair annoys;
Unfriendly to society's chief joys,
Thy worst effect is banishing for hours
The sex whose presence civilizes ours."
Conversers who use narcotics, and stimulating and exhilarating




318  ACCOMPANIMENTS OF CONVERSATION.
As an interlude to conversation, and as a suggester
of a fresh theme, r'eading is occasionally allowable,
especially in small circles; supposing always that it
be with the consent of all, and the book be one of
common interest. The reader should allow others to
interrupt him with questions, objections, and remarks.
The listener should give close attention, and not
break in upon the reader with observations foreign to
the subject. When the book opens a rich vein of
talk, the reader should cheerfully lay it aside, and
take a part in the colloquy. When the subject is exhausted, and the conversation flags, or is taking a
wrong direction, the reader may return to his task,
being careful not to continue it so long a time as to
weary the group. We could not advise an author to
read his own works, or a composer to sing or play his
own pieces for a whole evening, going on without interruption, and locking up the lips of the circle in perpetual silence. Persons who are urged to contribute
their own productions to the common entertainment,
should reflect that none are likely to be so great admirers of their performances as themselves; and
that how warmly soever the party applaud and cry
encore, brevity is a merit they will value more highly
than they will venture to express.
Another and more common interlude to conversadrinks, are often betrayed into words and actions which would come
with better grace from those who are stark mad. Whoever consumes
more tea or tobacco, opium or wine, than the majority of his company,
falls out of tone with them, and unwittingly commits a thousand indiscretions which surprise and disgust them. Total abstinence ought to
be the virtue of the conversationist who has any character to establish
or support in society.




ACCOMPANIMENTS OF CONVERSATION. 319
tion is music. A long intellectual talk jades and exhausts the mental faculties; a hymn, a song, or a
tune, exhilarates and reposes them, so that they
may return to animated and improving conference.
Goethe's " fair saint" in her " confessions," speaking
of the effect of devotional songs in parties, says:
c' They sat like jewels in the golden ring of a polished, intellectual conversation; and without pretending to edify, they elevated me and made me
happy in the most spiritual manner." But Christians
should refuse to fill up the intermissions of talk with
the light and amatory songs which are so fashionable. A great moral degeneracy in musical composition has been going on of late. Many of the recent
contributions to sacred melody are of the artificial,
theatrical, and voluptuous kind. We may admire the
ingenuity of the composition and the skill of the execution-nay, and be filled with certain inflating sensations, but our souls are not drawn heavenward by
the solemn and heart-moving tones of true devotion.
Would that there might be a speedy return from this
captivity, which is, in some respects, literally Babylonish, inasmuch as it causes those who are held captive to hang their ancient harps upon the willows,
and disqualifies them for singing the songs of Zion.
Such music is allowed not only to mingle its strains
with the praises of the congregation, but to ascend
with the incense which curls towards heaven finom
the family altar. Indeed it is on the family hearth
that this strange fire is first kindled, whence it is
borne to the altars of religion. If Lycurgus forbad
the Spartans all luxurious music, and if Plato would
exclude from his model sta~te all Lydian and Ionic




320  ACCOMPANIMENTS OE' CONVERSATION.
airs, as being too sensual, should not every Christian
parent, guardian, and teacher consider well the moral
tendencies of the music, which is daily thrilling the
hearts of children, and, as an authorized censor, deny
his imprimatur to every song which ministers to a
refined sensuality?  It is no wonder that those who
have spent years over the pages of this class of Italian, French, and German composers, should long to
see them received into the fellowship of Christian
music, and should lose all relish for the artless but
full-souled and spiritual notes of our forefathers.
While the Christian is not to be against musical innovations which are improvements, let him not cast
aside those spiritual songs which have so long been
the delight of all devout assemblies; if heartily sung,
even the man of the world will occasionally prefer
them to those amatory ditties which he hears so
often that their very name grates upon his ear. Let
him not engross a whole evening with these ditties,
so that, when the hour of prayer has come, he can
only slur over a hymn in which the heart's voice of
melody is not heard. Neither let himn admit into the
conversazione an alternation of sacred and profane
pieces. Such an ill-sorted fellowship were worse
than an entire exclusion of serious music. Let not
the harp and the psaltery of David be heard blending their strains with those of the pipe and viol of
ungodly revellers. This were not only to profane
holy things, but utterly to destroy them by allowing
sacred harmonies to be swallowed up and diowned
amid the demoralizing melodies of the world.
We would not here be understood to condemn
those songs which, though they have a high moral




ACCOMPANIMENTS OF CONVERSATION. 321
bearing, do not avowedly aim to assist devotion.
There are occasions when such songs may more
properly be sung than those of a more solemn kind.
Collections of a deep moral and religious tone, adapted to the drawing-room, are greatly needed, and it is
hoped that pious poets and composers will in no long
time supply this deficiency.
The last, but not the least important accompaniment of conversation which we shall mention, is
prayer.  Aside from its higher designs, it is one
of the best of mental recreations. The celebrated
Haydn was accustomed to resort to prayer as a restorative to his mental energies when they had been
exhausted by long application to his musical studies.
How becoming, and yet how uncommon it is for
Christian circles to invoke the divine blessing on
their conversations. When Christians meet together,
though it be for an object not directly religious, let
them not so far forget the adorable Redeemer or
themselves as wholly to confine their communion to
one another, having not a word to say to Him who
has promised to be among those who meet in his
name. And though it is not always convenient to
open parties with prayer, they may be closed with it;
and in some cases short prayers may properly be interspersed among the parts of conversation. What
if an address to the throne of grace should check
awhile the blitheness of those who are strangers to
their Divine Benefactor? Even these will afterwards, in their moments of sober reflection, approve
the action as honorable to the actors. Were a person of distinction present, all would think it uncourteous not to accost himr nor allow him to take any part
0*




322  ACCOMPANIMENTS OF CONVERSATION.
in the conversation. If we are not practical atheists,
or at least those who believe that God has nothing to
do with his own world, we must feel that it is treating
him with great effrontery not to acknowledge his
snpremacy, presence, and grace in all collections of
Christian people. Thrice happy will be "the celestial nobility" when they shall aim to make each of
their assemblies a levee of King Immanuel.




CHAPTER XX.
A HISTORY OF CERTAIN CONVERSATION-CLUBS; WITH
SKETCHES OF THE CONVERSATION OF JOHNSON, HANNAH MORE, COLERIDGE AND OTHERS.
A FULL history of conversation-clubs would embrace an account of the groups of talkers that used,
in the patriarchal time, to gather under the shade of
the vine and of the fig-tree, and in the gates of cities;
of the story-hearing crowds at Arabian caravansaries; of the symposica of philosophers and the parties
of Aspasia at Athens; of the table-talks of Lucullus,
LDelius, Atticus, Cicero, and nMacenas at Rome, and
her suburban villas. It would also tell of the dinners of the mum and chattering monks and nuns in
religious houses, and of knights recounting their adventures in hospitable castles during the middle
ages; concluding with the principal talking-societies
of the following centuries. But for fear we should
fall into the error of them that when they have a
short story to tell must needs begin with the foundation of the world, we make haste to say that it is our
design only to take sketches of such of the modern
notable conversation-clubs and conversationists as
fall within the scope of a practical work, and yield
some useful lessons.




324          CONVERSATION-CLUBS.
We will begin with that literary circle at Paris,
which, from various causes, became more celebrated
than any other, ancient or modern-that of which
Madame de Sevign6 was the brightest ornament.
Madame de Rambouillet assembled at her house a
company of wits, among whom were Voiture, Balzac,
Chapelain, Benserade, Cotin, Desmarets, Vaugelas,
S6grais, Bussy Rabutin, Rochefoucault, the mother
of The great Conde, Mademoiselle de Scudceri, Mladame de la Suze, Madame de Grignan, and ]M~adame
de Sevigne.  The greater number of these personages designated each other by anagrams, and the
mistress of the house was christened variously Arthenice, Eracinthe, and Corinthee. This society has
been accused of bringing into fashion that doubledistilled jargon and insipid gallantry of which Mademoiselle de Scuderi has given an example in her romance called Celie.  IHIere they composed enigmas,
madrigals, bouts-rim&s, sonnets, and rondeaus; and
if we may believe some writers of that time, those
verses were best received which were the farthest
removed  from  everything  natural in  style.35   La.35 " All was done by rule-all adapted to a system. The lover entered on his amorous journey, knowing the stoppages he must make,
and the dangers he must pass through on his way to the city of Tenderness, towards which he was bound. There was the village of Billets-galans, the hamlet of Billet-doux, the castle of Petits soins, and the villa
of Jolis Vers. After possessing himself of these, he still had to fear being
forced to embark on the sea of Dislike, or the lake of Indifference; but
if, on the contrary, he pushed off on the river of Inclination, he floated
happily down to his bourne. When' an innocent accomplice of a falsehood' was mentioned, a Precieuse (they themselves adopted and gloried
in this name) could, without a blush, understand that a night-cap was
the subject of conversation; water with them was too vulgar, unless
dignified as'celestial humidity' a thief could be mentioned when




AND CONVERSATIONISTS.                         325
Bruydre has, with  some exaggeration, described  the
conversationists which met at the house of this lady:' They surrender to the vulgar the art of speaking in
an intelligible manner. When anything is said that
is scarce understood, it is followed by something else
which is still more obscure, on which they improve
by downright enigmas, which are always followed
by a long clapping of hands. By the help of all that
they call delicacy, sentiment, and elegance of expression, they succeed in not being understood, and
in not understanding themselves.  He who would be
furnished for these conversations needs neither good
sense, nor judgment, nor memory, nor the least capacity, but wit only, and that not of the best sortmerely that false wit in which the imagination bears
sway."   MoliBre dared to attack these absurdities in
his  Preciezuse  Ridictules, a  farce  which  was  first
played on the 18th of November, 1659. It prodesignated as'an inconvenient hero' and a lover won his mistress's applause when he complained of her disdainful smile as'a sauce of
pride."'"  This account of these circles by Miss Shelly, is drawn more
from Mademoiselle Scud6ri's novels and Molibre's comedv, than from
any authentic chronicle. Tlhe -following extract from her biography
deserves more serious attention. " Purity of feeling, however, was the
soul of the system. Authors and poets were admitted as admirers,
but they never got beyond the villa of Jolis Vers.' 5 * Their style of
life was as eccentric as their talk. The lady rose in the morning,
dressed herself with elegance, and then went to bed. The French bed,
placed in an alcove, had a passage round it, called the ruelle; to be
at the top of the r?'elle was the post of honor; and Voiture, under the
title of Alcovist, long held this envied post beside the pillow of his
adored Julie, while he never was allowed to kiss her little finger.
This folly had its accompanying good. The respect which the women
exacted, and the virtue they preserved, exalted them, and in spite of
their high-flown sentiments and metaphysical conceits, wits did not
disdain to put a soul into the body of nonsense."




326          CONVERSATION-CLUBS.
duced an extraordinary sensation;36 at the second representation the price to the pit was raised from  ten
to fifteen souts, and the price for the other places was
doubled. The piece was acted at Paris four months
without interruption. It was equally applauded at
court, which was then held at Versailles.37
The leading characters in this farce are two ladies,
whose principal faults are preciseness and coquetry.
They make a free use of pomade, think it vulgar to
call persons and things by their right names, and insist that they will not marry until after an eventful
courtship conducted after examples set forth in romances, and according to the code of gallantry.
They talk in the mock genteel style, and vainly endeavor to make their servants adopt the same. They
are ambitious of the society of men of rank and letters, and belong to a literary circle where the burden
of talk is, that one has written a madrigal on happy
love; another has composed stanzas on unfaithfulness; Monsieur  last night wrote a sexcain to Mlademoiselle, to which she sent him an answer at eight
o'clock next morning; this author is at work upon
the third part of his romance, and that has put his
86 Manage says, " I was present at the first representation. Mademoiselle de Rambouillet, Madame de Grignan, M. Chapelain, and others
of the Hotel de Rambouillet, were there. The piece was acted with
great applause, and for my own part, I saw at once the effect it would
produce. Upon leaving the theatre, I took M. Chapelain by the hand
and said,' We have been used to approve all the follies so well and
wittily satirized in this piece; but believe me, as St. Remy said to
King Clovis, we must burn what we have adored, and adore what we
have burnt. It happened as I predicted, and we gave up this bombastic nonsense from the time of the first representation."
37 See Moliere's Biographers and Editors.




AND CONVERSATIONISTS.            327
works to press. Such are the topics of gossip, without a knowledge of which, in their opinion, all wit
and genius are not worth a pin. Two suitors of rank
whom they have discarded, resolve to avenge themselves, and to convince these conceited finical ladies
of the folly of their tastes and pursuits, by dressing up
two of their valets in the guise of noblemen, and
sending them to make the acquaintance of these ladies. The one who is to pass for a marquis affects
the man of genius and condition, and looks down
with disdain on other valets, calling them unrefined.
He feigns surprise that the porter should demand
his dues of a gentleman of his rank. He introduces
himself to these ladies, and meets with a very cordial
and flattering reception. They exchange compliments, and talk in a style of the most superfluous
elegance. Our marquis is of that favored class who
take all the arts in the natural way without the
slightest application to study. He boasts of having
in his day composed two hundred popular songs, as
many sonnets, four hundred epigrams, and more
than a thousand madrigals, to say nothing of enigmas and portraits; but his impromptus are wonderful -he lets off one which throws these fair creatures
into raptures, one of them declaring of his interjections, that she had rather be the author of "that
oh! oh i" than of an epic poem. The marquis introduces the other valet to them as a viscount who
had been his companion in arms, and has received a
wound in the back part of his head. In short, these
noblemen take captive the ladies' hearts, and while
they are dancing with them they are surprised by
their masters, who expose the whole plot, to the great




328         CON VERSATION - CLULS.
mortification of their mistresses; and offer the lackeys liberty to continue their gallantries, and at the
same time declaring that they will not be at all
jealous of them. This farce needs to be read by
those who would gain any tolerable estimate of it. As
a description of the assemblies that met at the house
of Madame de Rambouillet, it is to be received with
many grains of allowance. It is the aim of comedy,
according to Aristotle, to exhibit men worse than we
find them; and this literary circle was represented
to be worse than it really was, not only by Moli8re,
but by La iBruy~re, Voiture, Menage and others.
Even Hannah Mlore, in her zealous defence of the
Blue Stocking Club, has hardly done justice to the
Hotel de Rambouillet.  After singing of its affectations, she adds:
"Nature of stilts and fetters tir'd,
Impatient from the wits retir'd;
Long time the exile houseless stray'd,
Till S6vign6 received the maid."
Now, when we have pardoned something to poetic
license, these lines would seem to imply that Madame
S6vigne did not belong to this very company of wits,
and that she had no tastes and sympathies in common with them.  When, therefore, Mirs. More laminents;
" No votive altar smoked to thee
Chaste queen, divine Simplicity I"
she seems to have forgotten that there was in the
temple of Rambouillet such an altar, of which _Madame de SevignD herself was the priestess. Another
and much-thronged altar to Affectation no doubt




AND CONVERSATIONISTS.             329
there was;but in a circle composed of the most polite and ingenious persons in France, there must
have been not a few of the votaries of simplicity.
-I{adame de Sevigne was more of a formative genius
than not to have exerted- a favorable influence in
these companies. Some who have ridiculed in theirwritings this forced conceit and labored refinement,
were themselves frequenters of these gatherings, and
must by their own example have done, or at least
were capable of doing, not a little to counteract any
faults of this kind. We have a reliable tradition
that it was not unusual for those persons of purer
tastes who frequented these assemblies to come away
so weary of absurd and labored wit, that they used
to express the comfort they felt in their emancipation by saying: " Allons / faisons des solecismes!"
" Come! now let us go to blundering!" Could these
persons have abandoned themselves to the absurdities
which they so much disliked?  And then we are not
to think that this quaint and superfine wit was always indulged in as a serious employment, but often
to give a lively and playful zest to the usual bill
of literary amusements; and, as generally happens,
what was at first only seasoning became at length
the food which sickened all, and could not be restored to its former use. Besides, there prevailed in
those times a merciless prejudice against women of
wit and learning-a prejudice which still occasionally shows itself among the unlettered classes; so
that the language which would now be expected
from the lips of a tolerably informed woman, was
then sneered at as impertinence, pedantry, and a
craving after the prerogatives of the other sex.




330         CONVERSATION-CLUBS.
However prejudicial at first the houses of Rambouillet and of Longueville may have been to a taste for
the natural and the true, it appears upon the whole
that the farce of Moliore wrought a speedy reform
in these assemblies. It is true many women sought to
avoid the ridicule which had been inflicted upon wit
and genius by taking refuge in philosophy and classical learning. Thither Molibre pursued them, and
thirteen years after, in his comedy Les Femmes Scvantes, made an attack upon female pretensions to
superior knowledge and pedantic fondness for the
philosophy of Descartes, at the same time showing
that he held his old grudge against feminine geniuses
by transferring the war against sonnets, puns, and
madigrals to the higher grounds of classical literature
and metaphysical science. Altogether this comedy
drove out of society a little refined jargon, some
pedantry, and nearly all taste for intellectual discourse.
About a century later we find the literary assemblies of Paris altered for the better as to affectation,
but for the worse in regard of intellect and morals. In
the rival coteries of M-Yfadame du Deffand and M" ade.
moiselles Lespinasse, Geoffrin and Boufflers, wit and
infidelity, learning and lust, blasphemy and gayety,
formed strange but congenial alliances; Voltaire,
D'Alembert, Helve'tius, Raynal, Marmnontel, Carraccioli,38 D'Holbach, Galliani, and Vanloo, were among
the distinguished persons who were in the habit of
resorting to these parties.  Humrne, who was but
coolly welcomed to the best literary circles of Lon38 It may be well to remark, that (Jarraccioli was a believer in
Christianity.




AND CONVERSATIONISTS.               331
don, was affectionately received into the bosom of
these assemblies.
Of all the Parisian literary coteries of this period,
that of Madame du Deffand for a time took the lead.
This lady had been married, but the match being an
ill-suited and unhappy one, issued in a separation.
Left with a moderate fortune, and a great reputation
for wit and conversation, she gave up her hotel and
retired to apartments in the convent of St. Joseph,
where she continued to receive, almost every evening,
whoever was most distinguished in Paris for rank,
talent, or learning.  She possessed great vivacity
and strength of mind, a ready wit, clear conceptions,
and superior reasoning powers, to which she gave
utterance in words of the most lively and simple eloquence. She was the author of that proverbial bon
mot about St. Denis carrying his head under his arm,
"   nI q'uy a que le _premier pas qui coute;"-' It is only
the first step that is difficult;" " a saying sufficient,"
as one observes, "to make reputation in France."
But with all these shining qualities she was egotistic,
cold-hearted, selfish, given to detraction, and subject
to frequent fits of anger, ennui, jealousy, and moroseness. She was wont frankly to own that she could
never bring herself to love anything, though in order
to ascertain whether it was possible, she had several
times attempted, with little success, to become a
Romish devotee. WVe find her, in her old age, in
her correspondence with Horace Walpole, still speaking of religion with too much levity, and confessing
her scepticism as to many points of Christian faith,
and apologizing for it as involuntary, and arising in
part from her education, thus denying her native




332        CONVERSATION-CLUBS.
depravity, like Reynard the Fox, in that old Teutonic
story so true to human corruption, who, when led to
the scaffold for his crimes, said in his speech to the
crowd, that rapacity was no natural inclination of
his, for in his youth he had been accounted as virtuous as any one breathing. In her youth she was
greatly given to gallantry, and her faithlessness and
disregard of all moral principle were such as could
never for a moment have been endured anywhere
but in the society of infidels to which she belonged.  President Henault was her lover in her
youth, and though he afterwards refused any longer
to sustain that character, he continued to be her friend
as long as he lived. His character of her has come
down to us, and is the least flattering of any that
flowed from the pens of her admirers; it ends as follows: "In order not to betray too much prejudice,
and to obtain more confidence for what I say, I will
add, that age, without diminishing her talents, has
rendered her jealous and suspicious, yielding to her
first impulses, and awkward in managing the men
whom she might have easily controlled. In a word,
she is of irregular humor, unjust, and ceases to be
amiable to those persons only in whose society I have
been most happy, and most unhappy, because it is
her whom I have loved most." The following anecdote of Madame du Deffand and Henault, is said to
be perfectly authentic, and the moral of it is so good
that we cannot refuse it a place. The incident which
it relates occurred in their youth, before their mutual
alienation had sprung up. They were both comnplaining one day of the continual interruptions which
they met with front the society in which they lived.




AND CONVERSATIONISTS.             333
"How happy would we be," said the Marchioness,
"to have a whole day to ourselves."  They agreed
to try whether this was possible; and at last found a
small apartment in the Tuilleries, belonging to a
friend, which was unoccupied, and where they proposed to meet. They arrived accordingly, in separate conveyances, about eleven in the forenoon, appointed their carriages to return at midnight, and
ordered dinner from an eating-house. The morning
was passed entirely to the satisfaction of both, in expressions of love and friendship.'If every day,"
said the one to the other," were to be like this, life
would be too short." Dinner came, and before four
o'clock, sentiment had given place to gayety and wit.
About six the Miarchioness looked at the clock,
"They play Athalie to-night," said she, "and the
new actress is to make her appearance."  "I confess," said the President, "that if I were not here, I
should regret not seeing her."  "Take care, President," said the Marchioness, " what you say is really
an expression of regret; if you had been as happy as
you profess to be, you would not have thought of the
possibility of being at the representation of Athalie."
The President vindicated himself, and ended with
saying, " Is it for you to complain, when you were
the first to look at the clock, and to remark that
Athalie was acted to-night. There is no clock for
those who are happy." The dispute grew warm;
they became more and more out of humor with each
other; and by seven, they wished most heartily to
separate.  That was impossible.  "Ah!" said the
Marchioness, " I cannot stay here till twelve o'clock,
five hours longer, what a punishment!" There was




334        CONVERSATION-CL U BS.
a screen in the room; the Marchioness seated herself behind it, and left the rest of the room to the
President. The President, piqued at this, takes a
pen and writes a note full of reproaches, and throws
it over the screen. The Mlfarchioness picks up the
note, goes in search of a pen, ink, and paper, and
writes an answer in the sharpest terms.  At last
twelve o'clock arrived; and each hurried off separately, fully resolved never to try the same experiment again.
It is proof enough how utterly a stranger to these
connections was every deep and holy affection, that
the very evening Henault died, after an intimacy
with Madame du Deffand of twenty years, she went
out to Madame de Marchais's and supped with a
great company; and when her friends there spoke to
her of her bereavement, she replied: " Alas, he died
this evening at six o'clock: had it not been for this
you would not have seen me here."  " These were
her very words," says La Harpe, who was present,
"and she ate as usual very freely; for she was a
great gormand."' The moment of final and awful
separation caused her no sorrow, and in one of her
letters she gives an account of his death with the
most appalling indifference; and there cannot be a
darker or more faithful comment on the fiendish
fruits of infidelity, than the letter of condolence
which Voltaire addressed to her on this occasion.
In her fifty-fourth year, Madame du Deffand lost
her sight, and in order to made up as far as possible
for the loss of this sense, she adopted Mademoiselle
de Lespinasse, the illegitimate but well-educated
daughter of a man of rank, as her companion, to read




AND  CONVERSATIONISTS.              335
and write for her, and to assist her in doing the
honors of her conversazioni.   For awhile she was
greatly delighted with the young lady; by-and-bye
however, she discovered tha't she who had at first
been employed in the drudgery of reading her
asleep, possessed an originality of thought, a maturity of judgment, and an easy and copious eloquence, that bid fair to engross the attention and
admiration of the coterie.  As Madame du Deffand, to whom day and night were the same, did
not usually present herself till six o'clock in the
evening, she often found that her proteg7 had been
entertaining the guests for an hour, and that they
had come early to enjoy her conversation. She took
the alarm, and drove from her house the fair rival
whom she thenceforth regarded as a traitor and a
usurper. Far from being a homeless wanderer by
the dismissal, she was immediately supplied with a
house and furniture by her friends, who obtained for
her a pension fiom the crown, so that she now opened
her own doors to a society not less brilliant than that
of her patroness; indeed she attracted to herself a
greater part of the blind Marchioness' circle. The
blind clear-seer, cve.agle clairvoyante, as Voltaire
was used to call her, told D'Alembert, that if he
countenanced the new idol, he must bid farewell to
his former patroness; he did it, and lost no time in
joining the party of the young aspirant, and became
her most obsequious suitor-nay, the lackey of his
jilting mistress in carrying to her from the post her
billets from another and preferred rival.38  Soon,
38 Mademoiselle Lespinasse had resolved to raise her position by a
distinguished marriage. With this view she endeavored to entangle




336             CON V ERSATION-CLUBS.
however, the health of Mademoiselle Lespinasse gave
way before her inflammable and ambitious spirit.
Yet while her heart was consumed with the fires of
more than  one  passion, and she was wasting  away
with coughs and spasms, agitated with opium, and
her thoughts were turned hourly on suicide, she dined
out and made visits every day; and within a few
weeks of her death she still had her salon filled twice
a day with gay company, and dragged herself out to
sup with all the countesses of her set. She died before she had attained middle age, and it is said that
the mortifications caused by her alienation, followed
the affections of M. Mora, a young Spanish marquis then at Paris.
His family hearing of it, and recalling him to Spain, D'Alembert fraudulently procured for her a certificate from an eminent physician of
his acquaintance, to the effect that a return to the climate of France
was essential to his safety. M. Mora set out for Paris but died on the
road. "Thus crossed in her designs," says Marmontel, "she was no
longer the same with D'Alembert, yet he not only endured her coldness and caprice, but often the bitterness of her wounded temper. He
brooked his sorrows and complained only to me. Unhappy man 1
Such was his devotion and obedience to her, that in the absence of M.
Mora, it was he who used to go early in the morning to ask for Mora's
letters at the post office, and bring them  to her to read when she
awoke."
Yet she was all this while attached to a third person, M. D'Gilbert,
and in her letters addressed to him, she did not hesitate to declare
that she was most ardently in love with both at the same time. In
the very letter in which she addresses M. D'Gilbert in terms of the
most passionate adoration, she makes him the confidant of her unspeakable devotion and unalterable love for M. Mora; and when M.
Mora died, she continued to love his memory just as ardently as she did
the person of his living successor: her letters are divided between expressions of heart-rending grief and unbounded attachment-between
her desire to die for M. Mora, and her delight in living for M. D'Gilbert. Such was the brutish confusion and sneaking meanness of these
Luciferians in the Pandemoxniian, of Infidelity.




AND CONVERSATIONISTS.              837
by grief for her death, broke the spirit of D'Alembert, and embittered and enfeebled his latter days.
/ Madame du Deffand survived her four years, and
continued to preside in her own circle till extreme
old age, and died in 1780, after a long life of eightythree years. Her house had been, for fifty years,
the resort of many of the most eminent literary men
of the age, where they unbent their minds, and
talked easily and familiarly to their female friends
of their own works, and made and repeated all sorts
of jokes upon them with unfeigned gayety and indifference. Yet, during her long and festive life, Madame du Deffand knew not one happy day. Her
jealousies and antipathies were continually fanned
to a flame by the many factions which then divided
the fashionable and literary societies of the French
capital. Courted and flattered as she was to the last
by the great and the gay, she was daily devoured by
ennui, and her own discontented spirit. She did little else but importune her gallants, and annoy them
with her murmurs and self-commiserations. A stranger to that active kindness and generosity which can
make the worst condition delectable, she lamented
that she had ever been born; she complained of existence as an irreparable evil, and yet, as well she
might, confessed her unwillingness to die.
An equally brilliant though less formal and exclusive coterie of the time, was that of Madame Geoffrin. This lady was the daughter of a valet de chcanbre, and the widow of a glass manufacturer. She
was ignorant not only of syntax, but of orthography
as well. She laid the foundation of her reputation
by making herself the centre of a circle of artists and
P




338         CONVERSATION-CLUBS.
men of letters. She had been much in the confidence
of Madame de Tencin, and, on that lady's death, succeeded in attracting around herself those who remained of that illustrious circle, dimmed as it was by
the departure of Montesquieu and Fontenelle. By
activity and energy, she widened the circle till it embraced many of the first literary men in the nation.
She never made visits herself-was absolute in her
admissions and exclusions, bold in her sarcasms, free
and blunt, often to rudeness, in her opinions and observations; and severe or kind to all by turns, as her
caprice suggested. Having once gained her high position, she did not assume the subdued and cautious
tone of one who felt she was in danger of breaking
the social rules of a fastidious aristocracy. A simplicity and freedom accompanied all her actions, and
she courageously adopted what she regarded as becoming to herself rather than what seemed fit in the
eyes of others. She delighted in lively discussion
and in the paradoxes which always provoke people
to it, as the following incident will show. The Marquis de Saint Lambert, the author of a poem entitled
Des Saisons, once introduced to her Galliani, known
as the author of several works on political economy.
Madame Geoffrin received-him kindly, as she did
every one presented by the MIarquis. The economist
was punctual in his visits to her for many months.
One day, when he was entering her mansion, a domestic stopped him, and said, very gravely, that his
mistress could not receive him. "What! has she
gone out?"  L"No, but she cannot receive you."
"' But is she sick 2" " Monsieur, pardon me," replied
the servant, " I can only repeat what I before said:




AND CONVERSATIONISTS.             339
Madame cannot receive you."  This, of course, was
not to be resisted, and Galliani bowed to the domestic, and departed. IHe went immediately to seek his
fiiend-told him he had been discarded, and asked
him what indiscretion he could have been guilty of,
to produce such coldness on the part of M[adame
Geoffrin. Saint Lambert took out of his pocket a letter which he requested his friend to read. It was
from Mladamne Geoffrin, and was written thus:'"I
shall shut my doors upon your learned acquaintance,
dear Miarquis.  His society is insupportable. He
states too many facts-makes assertions which are
undeniable, and is always in the right."  These few
words enlightened, all at once, the learned man; and
Saint Lambert took the opportunity to caution himu
against wearying his hearers by constantly and methlodically dwelling upon facts without advancing
disputable opinions. Accordingly the political economist adopted a new system for the barter of thought,
and, by advancing paradoxes and singular propositions, was restored to the favor of Madame Geoffrin.
In fact, he became one of the most entertaining and
delightful conversationists in that coterie from which
he had been so harshly expelled.
Delille, at the conclusion of his poem, Ica Conversalion, has given us a delineation of MIadame Geoffirin as the president of the literary society that met
at her house on'Wednesday evenings-a delineation
which has received an overwrought coloring from the
partiality of friendship and the demands of rhyme.
He says it was not till the decline of her glory that
he became a member of her coterie. The brilliance
of her powers was not obscured by years. In old age




340         CONVERSATION- CLUBS.
she drew around her easy chair a triple circle of admiring visitors from all parts of Europe. She exercised a firm, artless, and gentle supervision in her
salon, stifling contradiction in the birth, but encouraging the wrestlings of free opinions, chiding with
good humor, and praising with judgment, assuring
the timid, and calming the fierce, comforting the
ugly, and warning the beautiful; in a word, if we
may credit Delille, uniting in herself all the qualities
that go to make up the corypheus of a conversation
meeting. Delille was introduced to her acquaintance at a period when age would naturally have
given some check to her offensive energy and independence; causing her to appear to better advantage
than she had done in early life.
Benevolence was a strong trait in her character.
The poor were fed and laborers encouraged by her
liberal bounty; and many were the poor authors and
artists that were gladdened by her patronage and
generosity: she would confidentially inquire into
wants of youthful talent, and as confidentially supply
them. When she was no more, Delille burst forth in
an affecting apostrophe of gratitude to her for the
offer of relief which his proud poverty had declined.4
Yet this great leader of conversation, who harbored
in her house some of the principal deists of her
time, the friend of Hume, D'Alembert, and D'Holbach, was sneered at as weak enough to have a turn
for secret devotion. She had an apartment in a convent of nuns, and a gallery in the church of the Capuchins. But her devotions were kept in such deep
mystery as not to be annoying even to infidels; they
40 See close of Chant 111. La Conversation.




AND  CONVERSATIONISTS.                 341
were pleased that she did not carry her piety into social life, and amused themselves with her inconsistency and superstition.41
It was at this time the rage to hold entertainments
at private houses, according to the arrangements and
etiquette of a public ccafe. Among the amusements
then fashionable were pantomimes and acted tableaux, in which each took a turn.  At one of these
routs we find IHume seated in the character of a sultan, between two obstinate beauties, as if intending
to strike his own bosom, but really aiming a blow at
theirs, and accompanying his acting with characteristic exclamations. Not all their meetings, however,
were scenes of such contemptible fooleries; some were
chiefly devoted to conversations in which, however,
scepticism, credulity, and presumption found free exexpression; while flattery went beyond all bounds.
When poets despaired of flattering any one by their
verses, it went hard with them but they would contrive, in some way, to puff up his vanity. Madame le
Page du Bocage, a rival of Madame Geoffrin, desired
to be reputed a poetess.  Voltaire labored long to
write a quatrain in praise of her miserable verses;
but the muse, refusing to obey his call, he overcame
the difficulty by twisting some laurel twigs into a
wreath, and placing it on her brow.
The French ladies of that age, passing a great part
of their time in public, had no relish for the sweets
of domestic life, and were consequently denied all
41 See the works of Grimm, MIarmontel, Bauchemont, and La Harpe,
Also, Edinburgh Review, article on Memoires de Marlnontel, vol. vii.,
p. 358, on Deffand's and Lespinasse's letters, vol. xv., p. 409, and vol.
xviii., p. 290; Life and Correspondence of Houme, by J. H. Burton,
Esq., vol. ii., p. 207.




342        CONVERSATION-CLUBS.
the solid happiness to be derived from household
tastes and attachments. Their affections were scattered among many competitors, and their attention
occupied with an incessant variety of amusements.
They talked with a kind of soulless gayety, not only
of the follies of their associates, but of their greatest
misfortunes as well: knowing no true friendship, and
no devoted love, they were incapable of feeling any
deep sympathy for the sufferings of their most intimate companions, whose sorrows they made a jest of,
whose calamities they condoled in epigrams, and
whose deaths they witnessed or applauded as capital
comedies.
Let us now cross over to London, and look in upon
the famous "Literary Club" which had, about this
period, reached its highest prosperity. This society,
which numbered among its membership the brilliant
names of Johnson, Burke, Reynolds, Goldsmith, and
Garrick, was at first not to exceed the number of the
muses; but, from 1763 to 1777, it increased to twenty,
at which time there was an addition of six more. In
one of his letters, Johnson writes: "It is proposed to
augment the club from twenty to thirty, of which I
am glad; for, as we have several in it which I do
not like to consort with, I am for reducing it to a
mere miscellaneous collection of conspicuous men,
without any determinate character."  But it has
always continued to be essentially a literary club.
In 1791, the number of members was thirty-five.
The club, as it stood in 1829, enrolled on its records,
among the names of other distinguished persons,
those of Professor Buckland, Francis Chantrey, Dr.
Copleston, Sir Thomas Lawrence, Sir James Mackin



AND CONVERSATIONISTS.              343
tosh, and Sir Walter Scott. At first it met at some
tavern one evening in every week at seven o'clock,
and generally continued its conversations till a pretty
late hour-so late that Sir John Hawkins, one of
Johnson's biographers, seceded from the society on
account of its interfering with his domestic arrangements. About three years from its institution, it was
resolved, instead of supping weekly, to dine together
once a fortnight during the meeting of parliament.
At the meetings of the club, the chair was taken by
the members in alphabetical rotation. A unanimous
vote was necessary to the admission of a new meinber, a single black ball excluding a member. The
talk was miscellaneous, but chiefly literary, politics
alone being excluded. Boswell has, in only one- instance, ventured to give in any detail the conversations of the club.4J He has recorded other talks
which seem to have passed in the club; but as he
usually suppresses the name of the society, and gives
the remarks of Johnson, and his own, the foreground,
even where it is evident that others took a prominent
part in the conversation, it is not always easy to decide where the colloquy took place. Both felt a
lively interest in its meetings. Johnson regarded the
hours he spent in them as the happiest of his life,
and he would often plume himself on his sagacity
in selecting its original members. Johnson was so
constant at its meetings that he never absented
himself. IHe came late, stayed late, and was often
the last to go home. Boswell rejoiced to learn that
Johnson pronounced him ~"a clubable" man, and
i' See Boswell's Life of Johnson, (Crocker's Edition,) vol. ii. April
13th, 1778.




344        CONVERSA T ION-CL UBS.
seems to have thought his admission to this society
the greatest of mortal honors. In their tour to the
Hebrides, they beguiled the tedious stages of their
journey by fondly recalling the high character of the
club. "I started a thought this afternoon," says DBoswell, "which amused us a great part of the way. I
said,'If our club should come and set up in Saint
Andrews as a college to teach all that each of us
can, in the several departments of learning and taste,
we should rebuild the city, we should draw a wonderful concourse of students."' They then fell to distributing the offices among the members.
At a club Johnson was in his element; his love
for such institutions is seen in his definition of the
name: " an assembly of good fellows meeting under
certain conditions." Besides the literary club he belonged to others less intellectual, at which he delighted to preside as symposiarch. A gentleman
-once venturing to say to him, " I wonder sometimes
that you condescend so far as to attend a city club,"
he replied: " Sir, the great chair of a full and pleasant club is, perhaps, the throne of human felicity."
In opposition to some, who, having wives and children,
said they preferred domestic enjoyments to those
which a tavern affords, he made the following confession: "As I enter the door of a tavern I experience an oblivion of care, and a freedom from solicitude; when I am seated, I find the master courteous
and the servants obsequious to my call, anxious to
know and ready to supply my wants; wine there exhilerates my spirits, and prompts me to free conversation, and an interchange of discourse with those
whom I most love; I dogmatize and am contradict



AND CONVERSATIONISTS.             345
ed, and in the conflict of opinions and sentiments I
find delight." In the pursuit of pleasures like these,
Johnson was too often drawn into the society of epicures who did not improve his morals and keep him
mindful of the great purposes of life. At club meetings, as, indeed, he did everywhere, Johnson led the
conversation, though he was far fromn being a imonologuist. I-e would allow himself to be interrupted,
and his assertions were of a nature to call out all the
intellectual forces of the circle, instead of keeping
them down: yet, when he had once called them out,
he gloried in putting therr to rout by the blows and
" whiffs of his fell sword."
Johnson usually spoke in a coarse, bow-wow tone,
which was now and then relieved by mutterings,
puffings, gruntings and growlings, while his mouth
was tortured with convulsive twitches, and his gigantic and ungainly body rolled like an elephant.
His address was often rude and occasionally ferocious; yet in certain points he insisted upon being
very ceremonious, and always exacted the most polite treatment from others. Few men were better
versed in the etiquette of the court and the drawingroom, or could turn a more delicate and graceful
compliment, yet no man outraged conventional forms
with so little compunction. He would insist upon a
whole company's rising when a lady came into the
roolm, and five minutes after, perhaps he would drive
her out by his personalities. He was vain of the society of ladies, and could make himself agreeable to
them when he chose; and few indeed were the fair
fiequenters of the assemblies where he was the oracle, who did not one time or another carry home with




346        CONVERSATION-CLUBS.
them some piece of flattery, on which they set a high
value, as an offset to the abuse which had crimsoned
or blanched their faces. He criticised:Mrs. nMontague's Essay on Shakspeare without mercy, and then
dealt out to her strains of the most fulsome panegyric, telling her she was little inferior to queen Elizabeth. To Miss M[onkton, who insisted that some
of Sterne's writings were very pathetic, he said:
"Why, that is because, dearest, you're a dunce."
When she sometime afterwards mentioned this to
him, he said: "' Madam, if I had thought so, I certainly should not have said it."  He would flatter
Hannah More in no measured terms, but when she
quit scores in the same coin, he begged she would
consider how much her flatteries were worth before
she choked him with them. Ile drove Dr. Percy out
of the room by his animadversions, and went on discoursing without taking any notice of it. IHe even
boasted of having spoken to Mr. Melmoth so roughly as to make him whistle with surprise. He was
hard-hearted enough to send Goldsmith home wounded in spirit, without taking any pains to beg his pardon at the time. There was scarcely one of his
friends that he did not affront, and there was but
one person who could bear his insolence and rage;
this was Dr. Mayo, a man of calm temper, who, because he never flinched under the strokes of his satire, received the epithet. of the " Literary Anvil."
Of his inattention, he sometimes made his boast.
"When," says he, "' Mr. Vesey talked to me one day
concerning Catiline's conspiracies, I withdrew my attention and thought of Tom Thumb." On one occasion, at least, he made no bones of uttering double




AND CONVERSATIONISTS.            347
meanings, which set a bevy of ladies tittering and
blushing, and made Hannah Mlore slyly hide her
face behind a lady's back who sat next to her. Ever
generous and humane towards bodily pain and discomfort, he made nothing of wounding pride, shocking modesty, and torturing envy.
As a reasoner he was ready in exposing the false testimony, and detecting the fallacies of an opponent, but
his own arguments were too often crippled by some vulgar prejudice or some superstitious scruple. There
was in his mind a singular compound of credulity and
scepticism. When any one related to him a plain
matter-of-fact, the likelihood was that he would say
in his haste all men are liars; when told of marvels
and miracles that bore the fabulous on the face of,
them, he comnmonly listened agape with childish
wonder. This grew in part out of his love for paradox, in which feature he bore a strong resemblance
to the wits of Madame Geoffrin's salon; to this
source is to be attributed the strange lack of uniformity and consistency in his opinions; it being
his custom to be in the opposition, to whichever side
of the question he might be driven. At one time
good, and at another, evil was predominant in the
moral constitution of the world. Now he would deplore the non-observance of Good Friday, and now
deny that there was any decline in the observance
of religious festivals. He would sometimes contradict self-evident propositions, such as, that the luxury of the country had increased with its riches, and
that the practice of card-playing was more general
than formerly. He would meet a sound argument
with a "What then, sir?" or a "Youdo not see"




848        CONVERSATION-CL'UBS.
your way through the question, sir;" or, "Sir, you
talk the language of ignorance;" and when he was
compelled to give his assent, which he always did
reluctantly, he would preface it with a " Why, no
sir." His dogmatism gave great animation to his
talks. In companies where the presence of great
lords, ladies and literati tended to freeze the current
of fellow-feeling into hard formalities, and where
pedantry and a conceit of infallibility would else
have chilled the whole social atmosphere —in such
companies there was needed a man who spoke out
roughly and aloud —who received not any man's
opinions, and trusted not to any man's reasonings,
though he put forth the boldest sophisms himself.
lIe contradicted for victory rather than truth, and his
constant aim to get the better of his adversary vitiated his mode of argumentation. In attaining his
low purpose he endeavored to set the character of his
antagonists in a bad light; fearing, as he said, that
Wf he gave them a good character, auditors would
conclude that they were engaged on the right side.
And then people undoubtedly felt a kind of savage
pleasure in hearing his personalities and witnessing
their effects: fine ladies saw him wound and kill
his man with much the same sensations that their
Roman sisters felt in seeing the combats of bloody
gladiators.
Nevertheless, we shall lose our clue to the character of Johnson as a conversationist, if, as many have
done, we allow it to escape us that he was a great
humorist. As those who noted down his talks could
not transcribe his humor, and have not always toll
ils with what air and tone he spoke, much that,.




AND CONVERSATIONISTS.             349
viewed apart firom his singular address, seems fiendish to us, did really overwhelm the company with
gusts of laughter.  Some persons are surrounded
with nitrous oxyd —with a kind of laughing gas.
They exercise a strange lordship over your risible
faculties; you cannot approach them without a
smile, and their gravest remarks make you laugh
outright. Of this sort was the humor of Johnson.
It dulled the edge of his sarcasms, and blunted the
point of his rebukes; it made even his rudeness
pleasant, and gave an air of mock-heroic to his nladdest onslaughts. In buffoonry he knew no match,
though he did not often indulge himself in it, and
when he did it was for the purpose of burlesquing
false wit. When WVarburton would on one occasion
have passed with him for a man of pleasantry, Johnson aped his manner so exactly that he put him quite
out of countenance.
ZHe aimed to talk his best on all occasions, and
never brought out his thoughts in an undress. The
language that fell from his lips, so unlike that which
ran from his pen, was plain, pointed, and forcible;
what time his mind was stirred, as if by some spirit
of inspiration, his thoughts flamled up into the most
lofty and splendid eloquence. Like most great conversationists he excelled in recitation, though he
rarely repeated pieces of any great length; mostly
limiting himself to a few English or Latin verses
that naturally fell in his way.
Such were some of the characteristics of Johnson's
conversation. To describe them is little more than
to enumerate bad qualities. He combined in himself the worst faults of all other talkers. with not a




300        CONVERSATION-CLUBS.
few that were peculiar to himself, and yet was he
the greatest conversationist of the time. His reasoning powers, his ready and finished eloquence, his
humor, his memory, having at its command large
acquisitions in many departments of human knowledge, seem first to surround and then to cover his
defects with a flood of glory. Albeit his intellectual
powers, in which his pre-eminence consisted, cannot
be appropriated by imitation, and so far as the proprieties of conversation are concerned, he should be
looked upon rather as a beacon to warn, than as a
chart to follow.
The moral tone of his conversation in his earlier
days, when judged by the standard of the age, was
high; when judged by the standard of the gospel it
was low. Though he often condemned impiety, injustice, and vice, the ethics of his conversation was
at this time a singular medley, never much higher
than that of Plutarch or of Seneca, sometimes that
of the trickster, the epicure, and the quibbler. He
carried his love of paradox, where it ought never to
be carried, into his discussions of moral and religious
questions; and stickler as he was for certain theological tenets, he felt little concern about reducing themn
to practice. Though he liked to sit down and talk
with Wesley, and spoke in high terms of the selfdevotion and zealous labors of his preachers, he had
little sympathy with the dissenters in general, and
was more charitable to men of bad morals who would
receive his creed than to evangelical men who would
not admit his interpretations of the Thirty-nine Articles. At one time he had no higher notion of Christianity, than that it was a revelation of the immortalb




AND CONVERSATIONISTS.           351
ity of the soul and of the atonement, than that it
was merely designed as an exhibition of the Divine
hatred of sin. As the infirmities of age began to
creep upon him, and as the companions of his prime
one after another dropped off, his piety grew to be
more consistent and fervent, though to the last it was
clouded with melancholy and superstition. Religion
was always rather an awful than a pleasurable matter
in his mind: till his dying days he seemed to be
under the law and not under grace, occupying himself more with the forms and minor observances of
religion, than with its principles and inward workings. Neglecting the root of piety in himself and
others, he pruned the branches and then complained
that little or no good fruit was borne.  He now
frequently spoke out in censure of the levity and
dissipation which prevailed among many of the
clergy of his day; he once reproved Dr. Maxwell
for saying grace without mentioning the name of our
Lord Jesus Christ. WVhen Boswell was about to
embark for the Continent, Johnson took him into a
church and said to him, " Commend yourself to your
Creator and Redeemer." Once delighting in companions where oaths were frequent and loud, he now
would not allow any one to swear before him: when
a libertine, but a man of some note, was interlarding
his stories with oaths, Johnson said, "Sir, all this
swearing will do nothing for our story; I beg you
will not swear." The narrator went on swearing;
Johnson said, " I must again entreat you not to swear."
He swore again —Johnson quitted the room. His
death-bed conversations were truly evangelical. When
he took leave of Mr. Windham, he said with great




352        CONVVE RSAT I ON -CL UBS.
fervor, " God bless you, my dear Windham, through
Jesus Christ. May we share some humble portion
of that happiness which God may fnally vouchsafe
to repentant sinners." Hie often said to his servant,
" Attend, Francis, to the salvation of your soul,
which is the object of greatest importance." He
persuaded Sir Joshua Reynolds to promise lie
would not paint on Sundays, and read the iBible
whenever he had opportunity, and never omit it on
Sundays. To Dr. Brocklesby he said: 1" Doctor, you
are a worthy man, but I am afraid you are not a
Christian. What can I do better than offer up in your
presence a prayer to the Great God that you may become a Christian in my sense of the word?" After
a fervent prayer, he added, "IMy dear Doctor, believe a dying man-there is no salvation but in the
sacrifice of the Lamb of God."  When we think how
intent he now was upon the salvation of his friends,
we cannot help regretting that more of his long and
influential life was not spent in conversations like
those of his last days. His conversaczioni would have
become " spiritual routs," as Whitefield used to call
the drawing.room congregations to which he preached; and his words would have fallen like the dew,
as they did along with it, reviving many a drooping
and dying soul. He would have drawn the children
of Nicodemus to his house by night, to inquire into
the mysteries of the kingdom. He would have established in many of the gorgeous halls of London
the principles of the Nazarine, and at last gathered
around his grave many sons of glory, at whose new
birth he had assisted, to mingle tears of sorrow and
gratitude over their common loss.




AND CONVERSATIONISTS.            853
In close correspondence with the "Literary club,"
was the famous "Blue Stocking Club," which met on
the same day that the " Literary Club" dined together
at Turk's Head, or some other tavern. In the evening, the members of the Literary Club were invited
to Mrs. Ml~ontague's, M]Irs. Yesey's, MVrs. Garrick's, or
Mrs. Boscawen's, or wherever else the Blue Stocking Club assembled. The origin of the name of the
club was this: One of the most eminent members of
this society was Mr. Benjamin Stillingfleet, the author
of a poetical essay on Conversation, which is to be
found in the first volume of Dodsley's collection.
His dress was remarkably plain, and he always wore
blue stockings. He was an excellent converser, and
his absence was felt to be so great a loss that it used
to be said: " We can do nothing without the Blue
Stockings," and thus by way of pleasantry this title
was established. A Frenchman of distinction, whose
name is hid in the deepest obscurity, supposing this
to be the real name of the party, innocently called it
Bas Bleu, the corresponding appellation in his own
language, and now given to women who are devoted
to literary pursuits. These gatherings were composed
of persons of distinguished rank, talents, and respectability, who met for conversation, and were different
in no respect from other parties, but that the company did not dance, and did not play at cards. They
had no supper, but refreshed themselves with tea,
milk, lemonade, and biscuits; and when the Literary
Club adjourned to meet with them, they had sour
crout.  Hannah More has given some account of
this club in her Bas Bleu, a poem, in which several members of the Literary Club are introduced, as




354         CONVERSATION-CLUBS.
Johnson, under the name of Cato; Garrick, under
the name of Roscius, and Burke, under that of Hortensius.  The poem  is addressed to Mrs. Vesey, a
lady distinguished more for her good sense, taste, and
amiability, than for learning and conversational skill.
These gatherings were often at her house. She had
the good-natured fault of sending out too many invitations; at one of her parties almost every nation of
Europe was usually represented. Her companies were
so large and variegated as not to be the most favorable
to conversation, and so Miss Mfore, MIr. Walpole, and
Mrs. Carter were chosen a committee to invite or exclude at pleasure; but the benevolent and sweettempered Mrs. Vesey could not help inviting every
agreeable creature that came in her way. She was
remarkable for her skill in breaking up the formality
of a circle, by inviting her parties to form themselves
into little separate groups so that all might join in
the conversation, and persons coming in could peep
into the various circles, and fix upon that which they
liked best; and when new circles were formed in the
course of the evening, they could if they desired join
a new  group.  Hannah M{ore has celebrated this
lady's talent this way in the following lively lines:
"Small were the art that would insure
The circle's boasted quadrature.
See Vesey's plastic genius make
A circle every figure take;
Nay, shapes and forms that would defy
All science of Geometry.
The enchantress wav'd her hand and spoke I
Her potent wand the circle broke;
The social spirits hover round,
And bless the liberated ground."




AND CONVERSATIONISTS.             355
When Dr. Johnson or Mr. Stillingfleet came in and
took the great chair, the whole company would collect around him, till they sometimes became no less
than four, if not five, deep; those behind standing
and listening over the heads of those who were sitting
before. The conversation would for some time be
carried on by two or three distinguished persons,
and if at length the talk became more general, the
company would fall away into separate groups.
Mrs. Elizabeth Montague, the founder of the club,
and at whose splendid mansion in Portman square it
frequently met, had acquired some celebrity as the
author of an Essay on the Genius of Shakspeare,
was a childless widow of ample fortune, and one of
the finest ladies of that day. Her mind was active
and well cultivated, with strong reasoning powers, and
her conversation was a constant stream of valuable
thought-a very river flowing with golden sand.
She lived in a style of generous hospitality, and for
many years her house was open to the literary and
fashionable world. She was sometimes honored with
visits from the queen and other members of the royal
family. Miss More makes honorable mention of her
in the verse:
"Boscawen sage, bright Montague."
Conspicuous among the constellation of Blue Stockings, shone the lady first mentioned. She was the
widow of Admiral Boscawen, and is thus panegyrized
by Mrs. More, in her poem called "Sensibility:"
"'Tis this whose charms the soul resistless seize,
And gives Boscawen half her power to please."




356         CONVERSATION-CLUBS.
Her sensibility was probably refined by her afflictions, of which her life was a continual series. The
death of her husband left her in great opulence; she
rode in a gilded chariot with four footmen.  The
friend and patron of literary men and women, she
was not insensible to their flatteries; when IMiss
More's -Bas _Bleu, in which her name is mentioned,
came out, she dreamed that she was requested by a
very large company to set it to music and sing it before them. Nevertheless she was polite, humble,
learned, judicious, and a very brilliant conversationist withal. Boswell says her manners were the most
agreeable, and her conversation the best of any lady
with whom he had the happiness to be acquainted.
The Blue Stocking Club was often misrepresented.
It was generally thought that it revived the absurdities that had a century before been attributed to the
Hotel de Rambouillet; Miss More, in her cBas Bleu,
defends the club against the prejudices that had
gone abroad concerning it: she declares that the
members were free from  all the censurable errors
that had been laid to their charge, such as those of
pedantry, bad taste, levity, and detraction. She also
exposes the vulgar error that learned ladies are
doomed to be second-rate in literature, and worthless
in domestic life, insisting that the ladies of the club
were not of that character, but
" Ladies who point, nor think me partial,
An epigram as well as Marshall;
Yet in all female worth succeed,
As well as those who cannot read."
All the members of the club were not the most se



AN D CO NVERSATIONISTS.           357
lect; in a society where there was no fixed rule of
admission, it was of course impossible to keep out all
improper persons: and then some who would merit
-admission for one quality, would deserve exclusion
for another; and some unworthy characters would
be introduced by the favor and partiality of their
friends. They could not keep out some such men as
Boswell, who, just come from dinners, where the bottle had circulated too freely, would talk loosely; and
there were some such men as Dr. Mounsey, who was
frequently seen at Mrs. Mlontague's.  He was a
coarse humorist, swore and talked loudly, and at his
death, directed in his will, that his body should not
suffer a funeral ceremony, but undergo dissection,
and after that treatment, be thrown into the Thames
or wherever the surgeon pleased.
HIorace Walpole, in one of his letters, describes an
attempt made by Lady Miller about this time to call
back the customs of the Hotel de Rambouillet.
There was held at her house near Bath, every Thursday evening, a "Parnassus Fair," where, among other
ancient sports, bouts-rimns were revived. Themes and
rhymes were distributed among the people of quality then at Bath, who, by making verses to match
them contended for the prize of honor. A Roman
vase, decked with pink ribbons and myrtle, received
the poetry which was drawn out on every festival.
Six judges decided the merits of the compositions, and
the successful competitor kneeled before Lady Miller, kissed her fair hand, and was crowned by it with
myrtle. The collection thus made was superbly
printed and published. Iere the nobility of that
generation read bouts-rim&s on a buttered muffin by




358        CON VERSATION-CLUBS.
her Grace the Duchess of Northumberland, and receipts to make them by Corydon. Dr. Johnson held
the collection very cheap. "Boztts-rimgs," said he,
" is a mere conceit, and an old conceit now. I wonder how people were persuaded to write in that manner for this lady."
"A gentleman of my acquaintance wrote for the
vase," replies one.
"He was a blockhead for his pains."
"The Duchess of Northumberland wrote."
C" Sir, the Duchess of Northumberland may do what
she pleases; nobody will say anything to a lady of
her high rank. But I would be apt to throw  —'s
verses in his face."
Johnson was the last man that would have allowed
the queen of such a farce to usurp his colloquial
throne. IHe foresaw that if he should give way to
this "Parnassus," it would prove a Vandal as desolating to conversation as quadrille or whist. Walpole called Lady Miller as romantic as Madame
Scuderi; and the Blue Stockings generally were of
simpler manners and purer tastes than to regard it
with any favor.
There was another association of poetasters, which
grew in part out of Lady Miller's coterie, called
"The Della Crusca Club," from one Robert Merry,
who adopted the signature, Della Crusca, in the
printed effusions of his muse. The members of this
confederacy flooded the newspapers and periodicals
of the day with verses, in which the sins of tawdry
affectation and false feeling were but poorly atoned
for by occasional gleams of imagination and pathos.
Besides setting themselves up as literary dictators,




AND CONVERSATIONISTS.              359
they were in the habit of heaping the most fulsome
flattery upon each other. Their bad taste, self-conceit, and absurd conduct, called forth William Gifford's "Baviad," a paraphrase on the first satire of
Persins, abounding in personalities towards the ladies
of this club. Fairer game for satire could not have
been found; still, it has been questioned whether
these harmless but foolish creatures deserved to be so
severely lashed; and Gifford has been accused of betraying a want of chivalry in this affair, and of not
behaving as courteously as was to be expected, considering the company he kept. Mrs. Piozzi, Mrs.
Robinson, Robert Merry, 3Miles Peter Andrews, and
Mr. Parsons were the penny candles among the farthing rushlights of this strange association.
It was in the meetings of the Blue Stocking Club
that Hannah More began to unfold her powers as a
conversationist. At this period, however, her intellectual and social, rather than her moral faculties,
found eloquent expression. Literature was now her
all-absorbing theme. Her talks were refined, modest, and benevolent, but they wanted a high purpose,
and were too strongly seasoned with flattery; and,
though a high evangelical spirit was wanting, a remarkably strict moral principle always found in her
a tongue. Mrs. Garrick called Mliss Mlore her chaplain. The death of Johnson and of Garrick seems to
have led her to take more sober and worthy views of
the objects of life.  She now sought occasions in
which to speak frankly and pointedly on religious
subjects; but in promiscuous circles she did not so
frequently start religious subjects, as extract from
common themes some useful and awful truth, and




360         CONVERSATION-CLUBS.
countera.ct the mischief of a popular sentiment by
one drawn from religion. This sort of conversation
fine people would, in a degree, endure; and it was
her opinion, that if she did any good in general society, it was in this way. Sometimes, however, she
was bold to proclaim before the children of pomp
and pleasure, what she considered duty and truth,
even at the risk of being discarded; but her personal
reproofs were always mild, and she ever avoided personalities. She was even too charitable towards the
excesses or failures of her acquaintance; and kept up
intercourse with some persons of kindred intellectual
tastes, with whom, as a Christian, she had nothing in
common. Though flattery was one of the great sins
of that age, after making all allowance for peculiar
temptations, she was always a little too fond of bestowing compliments on her friends; but when they
made a liberal return in kind, she was too wise to be
deceived by them. Notwithstanding her success as a
writer, she always had a low opinion of her literary
productions, and if she ever patiently heard them
praised, it was because she felt the need of encouragement.  She listened to criticisms on her own
works with a candor and good humor that astonished
the stranger, and in her strictures on the works of
her contemporaries she showed none of the meanness
of envy or of resentment; and took peculiar pleasure
in pointing, out their merits. She hated detraction
with a perfect hatred, and this drove her to such an
excess of generosity as made her blind to the moral
qualities of actions. Well-defined as her opinions on
most important subjects certainly were, she was indullgent to all parties in the church and state; it is a




AND CONVERSATIONISTS.            361
significant coincidence that Edmund [Burke, Dean
Tucker, and Mrs. Macauley called upon her the same
morning; fortunately in succession, as they were all
at that time writing against each other. She had received, both from nature and grace, a tender sensibility, and she could not always help betraying it
even in the most stately companies. The feeling expressed itself not only in smiling and laughing, but
in weeping as well. The only jewels she wore were
the tears that upon occasion adorned her eyes; nay,
her heart also, for they were full of its sterling sentiment: they were those legendary tears of Eve, which
hardened into pearls as they fell.
Mrs. More was never guilty of ostentation and forwardness, faults than which few others are more unwomanly. Accustomed to listen to others with the
most flattering attention, she betrayed no anxiety to
be heard or approved. Her fluency was not a gibbering loquacity; she had the scarce gift of saying
much without seeming to take a leading part in the
conversation. Robert Hall once being in company
where some one inquired whether there was anything
distinguishable in the manner of Mrs. Hannah M1Vore's
conversation, immediately replied: "She talks but
little, sir, on ordinary occasions; and when she
speaks, it is generally to make some pointed, sententious remark. Indeed, sir, she seems to be always
lying in wait for such opportunities. The last time I
was in her company, she spoke but once, and then
some one complained how long in the summer genteel people remained in London, and how little of it
they spent in the country. Another accounted for it
by saying they did not leave town, from a principle
f3




362        CONVERSATION-CL UBS.
of loyalty, till after the celebration of the king's
birthday.'Then,' said Mrs. More,'the wickedest
thing that George III. ever did, was being born on
the 4th of June.' This, sir," continued Mr. Hall,
" was the only sentence she uttered all the evening."4
If Mr. Hall could here speak of her taciturnity as
a disparagement to her conversational gifts, what
would he have said had she made any the least
seeming attempt to eclipse one who loved to shine
unobscured so well as he did a Could Mr. Hall have
been so dead to the charms of that beautiful timidity
which taught her to listen in deferential silence to
the oracles of conscious greatness? Mrs. More could
and did speak freely and copiously when she knew
that others prefered her discourse to her attention.
Still it was a virtue which became her sex, that she:could brook a superior in an art in which she was
known to excel.
Admirably did she exercise her skill in calling
out retired merit and giving heart to the timid;
she recognized the social equality of a company
by dividing her kind attentions equally, but not
officiously, among all, and by giving common sense
as full a hearing as genius and learning. She had
a turn for anecdote, lively strokes of wit, and particularly excelled in recitation. In her old age she
received at her cottage at Barleywood the visits of
strangers, who came from all parts of the world to
do homage to her genius. At this period her conversations abounded with quotations from the scriptures; with thoughts on experimental religion; on the
operations of benevolent institutions; as, the progress
43 Morris' Life of Robert Hall




AND CONVERSATIONISTS.             363
of the gospel in foreign lands and at home, especially
through the agency of the sunday school, and bible
and tract societies. She showed admirable address
in shaping her conversations to the motley sorts of
people who came to see her. When two or three of
her old friends paid her a visit, aged as she was, she
would sit up talking with them till two o'clock in the
morning; and all the while the words would fly from
one to the other as rapidly "as the bird of a battledoor."
There was a something-call it considerateness if
you please-that held her back from hasty and unadvised speeches. Few women have talked as much
and as ably as she, and yet as carefully weighed
-their words and said so few that they could have
wished to recall. What was it that kept her lips
from evil and her tongue from guile?  While the
gay and the learned, in every circle in which she
moved, plied the scourge of the tongue warmly and
on all sides, what was it that forbade her engage in
the cruel sport? Why was it that, while gifted and
nobly-born beauties were betrayed by their words
into life-long sorrows, why was it that upon her lips
continued the "law of kindness" and the lessons of
virtue?  This was it; the grace of God ruled her
soul and carried her safely through all the mazes of
society: like the heroine of Comus she carried in
her bosom a talisman, and all who heard her words
and saw her behavior, were compelled to say,
" Sure something holy lodges in that breast."
Oh, ye daughters of winged and winning speech,
how dangerous is your gift, unless, like Mrs. More,
you possess another and a better that can assist you




364            CONVERSATION-CLUBS
to  use this aright?   Without it you  may possibly
make a little better use of your tongues than did Aspasia or Ninon de l'Enclos: yet you will fail of dedicating this noblest organ of your frame to a holy
and worthy purpose.
Were it not too wide a departure from the practical purposes of this work, we would like to sketch
some of the features in the conversation of the Rev.
Robert Hall and Sir James Mackintosh."4  Though
differently gifted, they were in many respects as
brilliant conversationists as the world has yet ever
known; neither would such sketches be barren of instruction; but as it is our design to bring forward
such conversationists only as may  be regarded  as
types of the principal classes, we reluctantly pass
these two great characters by, and dwell awhile on
the conversation of Coleridge, one of the most singular and surprising of talkers.
44 To these names we might add those of Burke, Wesley, Sir Walter
Scott, Sir Humphrey Davy, Sheridan, C. J. Fox, Thomas Moore,
Miss Edgeworth, Brougham, Dudley Ward, D. Sharp, known in his
day as "Conversation Sharp," Goethe, &c., &c. Besides these, which
belong to the eastern shores of the Atlantic, there have appeared on
the western side, Franklin, Jefferson, John Randolph, Chief Justice
Marshall,* President Dwight, John M. Mason, J. C. Calhoun, &c., &c.
* Since the name of Washington, as a conversationist, must be
omitted here, he being rather deficient in colloquial as well as oratorical gifts, we cannot forbear bringing forward Judge Marshall's testi.
mony as to the attention Washington paid in early life to the formation of proper manners. Writing to Mr. Sparks, the editor of the
Washington Papers, he says: " I have read no part of these volumes
with so much pleasure as the maxims under the head of' Rules of
Civility, and decent behavior in Company and Conversation.' These
rules, of which I had never before heard,furnish a key with which to
open the original character of this truly great man."




AND CONVERSATIONISTS.            365
Coleridge's voice was naturally clear,.soft, and
flexible, but in his last years it grew to be a nasal
and snuffling tone. His eyes, which were large and
hazel, were veiled with a soft haze or dreaminess.
IHis manners were uniformly gentle and easy, and
he had the art which few great men possess, of
making conscious inferiors serene and tranquil in his
presence. I-Ie was full of benevolence and sympathy, and could talk with ladies, even children in the
most affable mode; and when in the midst of high
discourse if a lady, no matter who, entered the room,
his tone was softened and his whole manner subdued
by the charm of her appearing. Still he had neither
taste nor talent for small talk; he might sometimes
talk for the sake of talking, and of whiling away
irksome hours, but had no genius for that prattle
which can glide from one trifle to another for the
amusement of the idle; his was a solemnity of spirit
which kept away everything silly and gay. Wit he
wanted not; but it appeared oftener in sarcasm than
in anecdote and banter. When he talked of the
common and the concrete, his style was simple and
natural; when he came upon philosophy and theology his sentences grew involved, poetic, and occasionally obscure. Howbeit you could not listen to
the strains of his metaphysics without being convinced that he was indeed a magician in the use of
words; so rare and available was the wealth of his
language. He had intermeddled with many kinds of
knowledge, had been a man of travel and adventure,
had viewed nature with the eye of a philosopher and
a poet, and of course took pleasure in opening and exhibiting to all, the princely casket of his thoughts. He




366        CO NVERSAT ION-CLUBS
loved to dwell upon the subtleties of the Greek philosophies and of the schoolmen, on the fieakish and
changeful dreams of the German wisdom; and then
he had a philosophy of his own. This of course was
his bantling; the chief care of his life was to give it
to the world, and he harangued upon it with fatherly
fondness. In theology he was a Titan, and as he tore
up and piled one mountain of speculation upon another, his friends looked on with doubt and dismay;
as he clambered up into the regions of serial abstraction, they trembled for his fate; for he daringly inquired, not why things exist as we flnd therm, but
why they exist at all. In piling up his mountains
he sometimes laid the beams of his chambers so deep
in the waters that ordinary minds often failed to discover the foundations. In treating political questions he discussed general principles, not often descending to measures, hardly ever to men. His
mind loved to rise above facts, events, and evidences, that it might rest in eternal laws, or what
he imagined such; hence his conversation abounded in striking aphorisms and shrewd guesses at truth.
History was not his favorite theme; he lived neither
in the past, present, nor future, but above all time:
when he contemplated an old ruin, a celebrated
plain, or river, it awoke no historical recollections;
he spoke of them as they appeared in the passing
hour. If he was walking in the morning down Highgate Hill to London, he would take off his hat and
address an impromptu hymn to the sun; when he
was looking on a midsummer sunset he would fall
into a sort of trance, and with his eyes swimming in
tears, lift up his hands and breathe a silent prayer;




AND CONVERSATIONISTS.             367
then rouse himself, quote some old poet, and break
forth in most enchanting utterances of his own.
Often there was in Coleridge's conversation great
individuality; he loved to wrap the seer's mantle
about him, and utter such high and wondrous raptures as made his friends bow down as if blinded and
awestruck before hinm. At such times he would look
down upon their objections, and doubts, and attempted interruptions, as the mutterings of sleepers, who
knew not what they said; yet they went home wonderfully enlightened, though they could not always
tell in what respect: they felt marvellous experiences
which they could not describe, and which it was not
to be supposed that any but themselves could or
ought to feel. On such occasions his thoughts were
more logically connected than his sentences; to the
inattentive hearer, not a few of his transitions seemed
but leaps in the dark; but it was by reason of the
immensity of the orbit in which his thoughts circled
that he lost sight of them; had he tarried longer, he
would have seen them again as they came round on
the other side. After he had come to be an opiumeater, if not in rare instances before, he did indeed
talk ramblingly; in other words, he would start from
well-defined premises, perhaps, but come to no conclusion; or, as was often the case, start from no preinises, and come to a conclusion that ought to have
been his premises.
Madame de Stael, whom Coleridge visited at. Coppet, said he was master of monologue, but that in
dialogue he had no skill. There was some truth in
this observation. He was known to talk almost incessantly for three or four hours together —sometimes




368        CONERSAT ION-CLUBS
a whole day; pouring forth his accumulated stores of
reflection and feeling, and scattering broadcast and
wastefully his gathered treasures of theosophy, metaphysics, criticism, and poetry. After fifty, he was
confined to his own room many months in every
year, so that he was not often seen except by single
visitors, who used to listen with deep and unbroken
attention to whatever he was pleased to say. He
passed so much of his time in solitary thinking, that
when any one came to see him, he felt it a relief to
think aloud, but without ever breaking the thread of
meditation which he still went on unwinding as before; so it was, that he came to be a continuous and
rather exclusive talker. Still lie did sometimes pause
when the listeners desired to throw in a word of objection or inquiry, which was seldom the case however; for they would as soon have thought of staying the waters of the Amazon in their course as of
checking the majestic flow of his dissertations; such
wide and beauteous regions of thought did they traverse, and such green islands of novel ideas, brilliant metaphors and dreamy fancies did they pass in
their way.
Coleridge was more a reasolner than an arguer,
being in the habit of throwing his intellect back upon
its own powers, and leaving it to work out its own
conclusions, without any help from others. He was
not, like Johnson, a conversational gladiator; he disliked the character, and could not often be provoked
to enter the lists with any disputant, however honorable; he insisted on being allowed to reason in his
own way, and on giving such a turn to a question as
he liked best. Yet he was by no means a dry and




AND C'ONVERSATIONISTS.             369
tedious reasoner. No man, perhaps, was more successful in making his arguments attractive and entertaining to ordinary minds; in his better days he
spoke in so musical a tone, so fluently and energetically, and with such apt and striking illustrations,
that he delighted even ladies with his discussions of
IKant's metaphysics. Hie endeavored to make his
reasonings serve some, though by no means the highest practical purpose. He argued too much like a mere
partisan. IHe once confessed to a friend that he was
engaged in undermining at the same time the faith
of a Jew, a Swedenborgian, and a Roman Catholic.
Whatever may be our opinions of Coleridge's character or philosophy, thus much must be granted oil
all hands, that his was an ardent thirst after truth,
and a disinterested pursuit of it. Yet he seems to
have set a higher value on the discovery of truth
than on the applications of it. He disowned the
doctrine of expediency, not only in his philosophy, but
in the uses of his conversations also. He often wasted
his words, or, as a Hindoo would say, scattered jewels in a jungle. It is a matter of regret that this
motley-minded man did not discourse more earnestly
on the obligations of practical faith; his talks enlightened the judgment, charmed the imagination,
and refined the taste-would that they had equally
benefited the heart. He overvalued the uses of a
Inew philosophy, but did not enough consider how superior a Regeneration is to a Reformation, and that
to save a soul, something more is needed than probing the depths of human consciousness or filling the
imagination with visions of the true, the beautiful, and
thie good, or offering criticisms on the sacred text, or
Q*




370         CON VERSATION- CLUBS
prying into the mysteries of providence and revelation. I-Ie burrowed so deeply into metaphysical
science, scholastic erudition and speculative divinity,
as to chill the compassionate ardor of his spirit, and
remove him from the every-day-work of helping poor
sinners up to the top of Golgotha along the steeps of
repentance. Coleridge's faith was without works,
and his words without actions to match them. We
should consider the history of his closing years, and
should recollect that even Southey lost all confidence
in his moral character at that period, if we would
form a true estimate of all his qualities as a man.
And when I compare this sketch of his conversation
with his general life, I am inclined to say of it, the
name being changed, what he once said of WTordsworth's portrait: "It looks more like Coleridge than
Coleridge himself."
There is now living in the northern hemisphere, a
man whose conversation is so singularly original,
learned and elegant, that I am moved to make some
mention of it; and though I cannot hope to do it anything like justice, yet to pass it by unconsidered,
would be an atheistic disregard of the works of the
Lord who made him what he is, and a withholding
from the reader that would excel in conversation,
one of the best patterns he can set up for imitation.
What first strikes you in his conversation is his
modesty, and his reluctance to open himself freely
to strangers; and if you have gained access to his
parlor with a view to hear him talk, without saying
anything yourself, you presently find that he is no
monologuist delighting to talk oracularly to large




AND C ONVERSATIONISTS             371
silent circles, or even to one tongueless person; rather,
that he prefers to converse with one or two friends
who are willing to act the part of interlocutors as
well as listeners. If you have come at the wrong
time, or merely to gratify curiosity or to amuse an
idle hour, the chances are that he will sit and wait
for you to take the lead in the colloquy, all the while
turning towards you his shoulder, his ear, and his
profile.  Finding nothing to say worth his hearing,
as you stare at him, you call to mind the student
that, when Goethe treated him in the same proper
manner, had the face to take a candle in his hand
and step around the genius, inspecting him as he
would the statue of an enthroned Jupiter, then putting a piece of silver on the table, walked coolly out,
without speaking a word. But knowing yourself to
be the aggressor, you feel no impulses towards such
an impertinence in his presence; you remember too
that he is naturally affable to all sorts of persons;
insomuch that little children come and sit at his feet
that they may regale themselves with his talks.
What next and ever strikes you, is his deep and
broad scholarship, and his accurate and multifarious
reading. When he gives you occasional glimpses of
his vast stores of knowledge, you seem to yourself
to be sitting down before the Egyptian Sphinx,
whom some power has bidden to breathe and speak,
and converted its vast cranium into a library containing diamond editions of all the principal books that
have ever blessed the world; besides not a few rare old
scrolls from the Alexandrian library, which you supposed Omar had burnt long ago. There must be
there, you are sure, cunabula and black-letter rarities




372         CONVERSATION-CLUBS
in great plenty, but no vacant shelves, and no succedanea; and the speech of the Sphynx is so fluent
and various that you fancy each leaf of every book
is a tongue, uttering all that is upon it. Then, as
original thoughts come dancing out to the sound
of some low, gentle, and tremulous melody, your
fancy enters another apartment of the cranium,
and discovers that all this is not a mere talking
library; for you cannot number the volumes of
original ideas that are here arranged around you in
orderly alcoves. When the Sphinx calls up some
din and far-off epoch in civil or ecclesiastical history, cites some never-known or forgotten name-by
no means on purpose to make a show of his erudition, nothing further from his thoughts, but as a telling proof or rich illustration of some great principle
-when he does this, you think that the spirit of history is in him the spirit of prophecy, and that the
bygone is his interpreter of the passing and the
coming. But the Sphinx, you observe, has a more
comely countenance than the stern, weather-beaten,
broken-nosed one you used to marvel at when a
boy, in the "Seven Wonders of the World."  The
intellectually severe is softened by the benevolently
mild, and especially by that innocent, good-natured
curl at the corner of the lips, which Rubens has
given to his young John the Baptist talking with the
child Jesus. These, along with the soft, gentle, halfwhispering tone that is natural to him, cause you
quite to forget the Sphinx, and to feel that you are
conferring cheek by jole with some tried and coilidential friend. There are times however when, dismayed at his enormous learning, you think you are




AND CONVERSATIONISTS.             373
still sitting under the shadow of the awful Sphinx,
and as you cast your eyes abroad, feel that you are
stark alone amid the waste howling wilderness of
your own ignorance. Then, again, you are gently
caught up, and find yourself reclining in some grove
of the south, lending your ear to the notes of the goodhumored mocking bird; and while he is criticizing
contemporary authors, or quoting their best passages,
or canvassing current opinions, you mark how skilfully he imitates each peculiar note of the flocks of
songsters that are embowered around him, and how
he scorns to quote the cawings of the crow, the whistlings of the hawk, and the hateful dialects of other
birds of prey, and how he never imitates the notes of
even clean birds to burlesque them, but to admire
them, and to join you in admiring them. This done,
as is said to be the wont of his genus, he strikes up a,
song of his own, which, in your opinion, though not
in his, is more ravishing than all the rest; and you
find that his power to sing the notes of the rarest
birds abates not a jot of the originality and independence of his own peculiar song-a song which is
none other than the free utterance of a soul that is
fearless and modest, earnest and refined, poetic and
strong.  His music breaks through and entangles
the measures and bars of other songsters, else it
would not be his music. You say of many a sentence
of his, what Quintilian says of the style of Seneca,
abzndat dalcibuts vitiis, —" It abounds with delightful
faults." But his words are more than faultless; they
are full of the poetry of the Saxon: they are as antique as beautiful, as quaint as elegant, as picturesque as bold. You also witness how his mode of




374         CONVERSATION-CLUBS
reasoning explodes the old precept, that you must
first formally convince the understanding before you
presume to approach the imagination or pay your addresses to the heart; for he melts your reasoning
powers, and imagination, and feelings into one intense co-working; his illustrations at once affect you
with the conviction of the most labored arguments,
and move you with the persuasion of' resistless exhortations. Then you notice with what ease these
faculties act together, and yet equally well, and that
they are always at command; that in letting off his
thoughts, he never hangs fire —never leaves any interval between the flash of the mind and the report
of the lips. Yet this alertness does not, as it is apt to
do in other men, tempt him to inflict on anybody
flesh wounds of raillery, or chance-medley strokes of
repartee, or to take part in the lighter game of small
talk. Never did you hear fiom his lips anything of
this sort; no never. Only you remember to have
heard him once or twice, when the occasion called
aloud for it, let fall a pleasant but irresistible sarcasm. In taking leave of him, you detect yourself
loitering to pass one word more; and when, much
against the will, you drag yourself away, you cannot
help fervently repeating to yourself those lines of Cowper, which some suppose to refer to Rev. John Newton's conversation, and others to John Wesley's; but
you think they describe him whom you have just left,
better than either of the others.
"Oh, I have seen (nor hope perhaps in vain
Ere life go down to see such sights again)
A vet'ran warrior in the Christian field,
Who never saw the sword he could not wield;




AND CONVERSATIONISTS.                     375
Grave, without dullness, learned, without pride,
Exact, yet not precise; though meek, keen-ey'd;
A man that would have foil'd at their own play
A dozen would-be's of the modern day;
Who, when occasion justified its use,
Had wit as bright as ready to produce;
Could fetch from records of an earlier age,
Or from philosophy's enlighten'd page,
His rich materials, and regale your ear
With strains it was a privilege to hear;
Yet above all, his luxury supreme,
And his chief glory, was the Gospel theme;
There he was copious as old Greece or Rome,
His happy eloquence seem'd there at home,
Ambitious not to shine, or to excel,
But to treat justly what he lov'd so well."
"Even these lines," you add, " come far short of conveying a sufficient idea of his conversation. To those
only who have heard him is it given to know what it
is; and neither poetry nor parables can describe it
to them that have not."
Pass we inow to the subject of modern conversation-clubs lHaving already given some account of
the most celebrated literary clubs which flourished
in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, we have
forestalled much that might otherwise be said concerning the literary clubs of the present day; inasmuch as they bear a resemblance more or less close
to the ancient clubs of Paris and London.  Literary
conversation-clubs are now as they ever have been,
necessarily few in number, and those boasting no
very long list of members.  They meet regularly
during only a part of the year; and the greater number of those clubs that are made up of staid literati
know but a brief existence.  Like the Spectator Club,
the members, one after another, drop off till there




376          CONVERSATION- CLUBS
are not enough remaining to constitute a meeting: Sir Roger de Coverly dies of a defluction, Will
Honeycomb marries his tenant's daughter, and Captain Sentry and Sir Andrew Freeport retire to their
estates in the country. However, the curse of mortality which threatens them does not prevent their
formation, nor keep them from compassing the design
of their creation.
The advantages growing out of these societies are
almost too obvious to need any mention. They keep
up a good understanding and brotherly communion
among the members; and afford occasion for mutual
counsel and encouragement. HIere they fling out their
thoughts to air; and if they are blown upon from
all quarters so much the better; their aroma is wonderfully improved by these breezes and counter
breezes; but where flattery, as it is apt to do, becomes
fashionable in literary soirees, it makes the man of
letters a Cyclops of one eye, and that in the occiput;
looking back with self-gratulation on what he has already done, as he stumbles carelessly over what he
has yet to do. In these, though less than in other
clubs, there spring up names, signs, pass-words, and
cant phrases, which strengthen the bond of fellowship by keeping up confidential recognitions and
reminiscences.
"The language to th' elect alone
Is like the masons' mystery known.
In vain the unerring sign is made
To him who is not of the trade.
What lively pleasure to divine
The thought implied, the hinted line;
To feel allusion's artful force,
And trace the image to its source."




AND CONVERSATI ONISTS.            377
Here literati find what they do not always find elsewhere, appreciating ears and tongues that can give
a right answer-the two arch-inspirers of social eloquence. Here they may talk with all freedom of the
biography of authors, the history of books, and all the
jots and tittles of criticism, rising now and then to
great national and international questions in literature, religion, and politics; sometimes wandering
away from literary topics altogether.
There flourish in great cities clubs of quite another
kind; and fearfully permanent and prosperous institutions they are. They meet ostensibly for conversation; but it is understood that eating, drinking,
smoking, and gaming, are to come in for the chief
share of attention.  Wine and strong  drink are
invoked in songs, doggerels, and rhapsodies, as the
inspirers of colloquial wit, poetic genius, and all
generous and brotherly sentiments.  The chair is
taken perhaps by some veteran "fogy," who can
remember the time when precedence in the club
was given to every man according to his power of
drinking a certain quantity of liquor, sitting in an
erect position; who piques himself on his skill in
ascertaining the exact quality of wines, and on knowing the best way to ice claret, and to make sherry
cobblers. Other members attain to fame by an alacrity at low humor, or insipid witticisms, or punning,
or badgering, or ribaldry, or blasphemy. A glass or
two quickens their tongues, so that they move with
astonishing glibness, a few draughts more paralyze
their vocal organs; and voices that before ran up to a
high key, now fall to mumbling and stammering;
their ideas once so clear, grow muddy, till nonsense




378        CONVERSATION-CLUBS
succeeds, and hiccups and snoring end the conversation. Meeting, as they often do on Saturday night,
they go or are carried home drunk on Sunday morning. The Lord's day is divided between sleep, drugging a sick stomach, cooling a heated brain, and
quenching a burning thirst. The effects of Saturday
night's debauch are, in many cases, powerfully felt
even on Monday morning, and relief vainly sought
by a return to the bottle. We hope and pray the
day will come, when such accounts of the symptoms
of drunkenness will not be regarded as repetitions of
what everybody knows, but as points in ancient history, which shall excite the wonder and disgust of
distant generations.
In vain do the members of these clubs quote to us
the rules by which they profess to be governed, so
long as they practically disregard them; so long as
they notoriously sell themselves to intemperance and
its attendant vices, in violation of all laws, human
and divine. Nor would a more strict observance of
their rules greatly mend their morals; for the rules,
to which they appeal with so much confidence, in defence of these societies, if narrowly inspected, will be
found to encourage the violation of one another. In
proof of this, we will not quote the regulations of
any modern club, lest we should lay ourselves open
to the charge of exposing to public curiosity laws
which were enacted for the initiated alone; we will
refer to the rules which were composed by the great
moralist, Dr. Johnson, for the Essex Head Clubrules which we are willing to pit against those of any
modern club of the kind. Among several rules enjoining decorum, we find one requiring each member




AND  CONVERSATIONISTS.                379
present to spend at least sixpence; thus reuiri~ng the
systematic growth of the appetites, and approving
their most unlimited indulgence. Let us go still further back and look at Ben Jonson's Leges Convivales,
which have for generations been considered the golden oracles of the club-room. He directs wisely and
well:
" Let the contests be rather of books than of wine;
Let the converse be neither noisy nor mute;
Let none of things serious, much less of divine,
When belly and head's full, profanely dispute."
But elsewhere in the same code we have the follow.
ing admonition:
"Let no sober bigot here think it a sin,
To push on the chirping and moderate bottle,"
which if heeded, must, as all experience proves, lead
to the infringement of the excellent rules before
quoted; nay, and of all excellent rules whatsoever.
Apart from the habits of intemperance which these
clubs beget and foster, they overrule the attractions
of the domestic circle.  We have seen in the case of
Johnson, that a scholar capable of the highest intellectual pleasures, and strong in his domestic attachments, could forego all the sober comforts of home for
the low gratifications of a sixpenny club at an alehouse.  What charms then must invest a club-house
furnished with every imaginable luxury of life, in
the view of a man possessing, perhaps, not a tithe
of Johnson's mental resources.  We could call witnesses to this, but it is not necessary. These charms
however have a dark side. In many cases the wife
is left to evenings of solitude, or to society that is




380         CONVERSATION-CLUBS
worse. Unassisted must she gather and keep the
children round the family hearth, and provide for
their amusement, instruction, and government. This
were nothing for female patience to endure, compared
with the soul-piercing reflection that other society
has greater allurements for him than that of his wife
and his children —that when he comes home, though
late, he brings with him each night a worse heart,
and a worse intellect, worse manners, and worse
health-in short, every faculty and possession altered
for the worse. Need we call down from heaven the
spirit of one such broken-hearted wife, and bid her
tell the story of her domestic woes —of all the tortures which a drunken and alienated husband can
inflict on a kind and constant heart; or need we call
up from among the wassailers of perdition, the remorseful spirit of her husband himself, and suffer
him to howl out his dolors and warnings —need we
do these things to convince the club-goer that this
his way is his folly and his ruin? No; if he will not
believe the evidence of his own senses, neither would
he be persuaded though one should rise from the dead.
If he would believe the evidence of his own senseswould look abroad in the world, and consider the life
and death of the mass of club-goers, and hearken to
the unbribed witnesses within, above, and beneath
him, all testifying against the institution, sure we are
that he would break with his treacherous companions
forever, and take up this self-adjuration: "Oh my
soul, come not thou into their secret; unto their assembly mine honor be not thou united."
THE END.