Rules for Conversation.

1. Jack Lizard was about fifteen when he was first entered in the university, and being a youth of a great deal of fire, and a more than ordinary application to his studies; it gave his conversation a very particular turn. He had too much spirit to hold his tongue in company; but at the same time so little acquaintance with the world, that he did not know how to talk like other people.

2. After a year and a half's stay at the university, he came down among us to pass away a month or two in the country. The first night after his arrival, as we were at supper, we were all of us very much improved by Jack's table-talk. He told us, upon the appearance of a dish of wild-fowl, that according to the opinion of some natural philosophers, they might be lately come from the moon.

3. Upon which the Sparkler bursting out into a laugh, he insulted her with several questions, relating to the bigness and distance of the moon and stars; and after every interrogatory would be winking upon me, and smiling at his sister's ignorance. Jack gained his point; for the mother was pleased, and all the servants stared at the learning of their young master. Jack was so encouraged at this success, that for the first week he dealt wholly in paradoxes. It was a common jest with him to pinch one of his sister's lap-dogs, and afterwards prove he could not feel it.

4. When the girls were sorting a set of knots, he would demonstrate to them that all the ribbons were of the same colour; or rather, says Jack, of no colour at all. My Lady Lizard herself, though she was not a little pleased with her son's improvements, was one day almost angry with him; for, having accidentally burnt her fingers as she was lighting her lamp for her tea-pot, in the midst of her anguish, Jack laid hold of the opportunity to instruct her that there was no such thing as heat in fire. In short, no day passed over our heads, in which Jack did not imagine he made the whole family wiser than they were before.

5. That part of his conversation which gave me the most pain, was what passed among those country gentlemen that came to visit us. On such occasions Jack usually took upon him to be the mouth of the company; and thinking himself obliged to be very merry, would entertain us with a great many odd sayings and absurdities of their college cook. I found this fellow had made a very strong impression upon Jack's imagination, which he never considered was not the case of the rest of the company, till after many repeated trials he found that his stories seldom any body laugh but himself.

6. I all this while looked upon Jack as a young tree shooting out into blossoms before its time; the redundancy of which, though it was a little unseasonably, seemed to foretell an uncommon fruitfulness.

In order to wear out the vein of pedantry, which ran through his conversation, I took him out with me one evening, and first of all insinuated to him this rule, which I had myself learned from a very great author, "To think with the wise, but talk with the vulgar," Jack's, good sense soon made him reflect that he had exposed himself to the laughter of the ignorant by a contrary behaviour; upon which he told me, that he would take care for the future to keep his notions to himself, and converse in the common received sentiments of mankind.

7. He at the same time desired me to give him any other rules of conversation, which I thought might he for his improvement. I told him I would think of it; and accordingly, as I have a particular affection for the young man, I gave him the next morning the following rules in writing, which may, perhaps, have contributed to make him the agreeable man he now is.

8. The faculty of interchanging our thoughts with one another, or what we express by the word conversation, has always been represented by moral writers, as one of the noblest privileges of reason, and which more particularly sets mankind above the brute part of the creation.

Though nothing so much gains upon the affections as this extempore eloquence, which we have constantly occasion for, and are obliged to practice every day, we very rarely meet with any who excel in it.

9. The conversation of most men is disagreeable, not so much for want of wit and learning, as of good-breeding and discretion.

It is not in every man's power, perhaps, to have fine parts, say witty things, or tell a story agreeably; but every man may be polite if he pleases, at least to a certain degree. Politeness has infinitely more power to make us esteemed, and our company sought after, than the most extraordinary parts or attainments we can be master of. These seldom fail to create envy, and envy has always some ill will in it.

10. If you resolve to please never speak to gratify any particular vanity or passion of your own, but always with a design either to divert or inform the company. A man who only aims at one of these, is always easy in his discourse. He is never out of humour at being interrupted, because he considers that those who hear him are the best judges whether what he was saying would either divert or inform him.

A modest person seldom fails to gain the good will of those he converses with, because nobody envies a man who does not appear to be pleased with himself.

11. We should talk extremely little of ourselves. Indeed what can we say? It would be as imprudent to discover faults, as ridiculous to count over our fancied virtues. Our private and domestic affairs are no less improper to be introduced in conversation. What does it concern the company how many horses you keep in your stables? or whether your servant is most knave or fool?

12. A man may equally affront the company he is in, by engrossing all the talk, or observing a contemptuous silence.

Conform yourself to the taste, character, and present humours of the persons you converse with; not but a person must follow his talent in conversation. Do not force nature; no one ever did it with success.

If you have not a talent for humour, or raillery, or story-telling, never attempt them.

13. Contain yourself also within the bounds of what you know; and never talk of things you are ignorant of, unless it be with a view to inform yourself. A person cannot fail in the observance of this rule, without making himself ridiculous; and yet how often do we see it transgressed! Some, who on war or politics could talk very well, will be perpetually haranguing on works of genius and the belles letters; others who are capable of reasoning, and would make a figure in grave discourse, will yet constantly aim at humour and pleasantry, though with the worst grace imaginable. Hence it is, that we see a man of merit sometimes appear like a coxcomb, and hear a man of genius talk like a fool.

14. Before you tell a story, it may be generally not amiss to draw a short character, and give the company a true idea of the principal persons concerned in it; the beauty of most things consisting not so much in their being said or done, as in their being said or done by such a particular person; or on such a particular occasion.

15. Notwithstanding all the advantages of youth, few young people please in conversation: the reason is, that want of experience makes them positive, and what they say, is rather with a design to please themselves, than any one else.

It is certain that age itself shall make many things pass well enough, which would have been laughed at in the mouth of one much younger.

16. Nothing, however, is more insupportable to men of sense, than an empty formal man who speaks in proverbs, and decides all controversies with a short sentence. This piece of stupidity is the more insufferable, as it puts on the air of wisdom.

Great talents for conversation requires to be accompanied with great politeness. He who eclipses others, owes them great civilities; and whatever a mistaken vanity may tell us, it is better to please in conversation, than to shine in it.

17. A prudent man will avoid talking much of any particular science, for which he is remarkably famous. There is not, methinks, an handsomer thing said of Mr. Cowley in his whole life, than, that none but his intimate friends ever discovered he was a great poet by his discourse. Besides the decency of this rule, it is certainly founded in good policy. A man who talks of any thing he is already famous for, has little to get, but a great deal to lose.

18. I might add, that he who is sometimes silent on a subject, where everyone is satisfied he would speak well, will often be thought no less knowing in any other matters where, perhaps, he is wholly ignorant.

Women are frightened at the name of argument, and are sooner convinced by an happy turn, or, witty expression, than by demonstration.

19. Whenever you commend, add your reasons for so doing; it is this which distinguishes the approbation of a man of sense, from the flattery of sycophants, and admiration of fools.

Raillery is no longer agreeable, than while the whole company is pleased with it. I would least of all be understood to except the person raillied.

20. Though good-humour, sense, and discretion, can seldom fail to make a man agreeable, it may be no ill policy sometimes to prepare yourself in a particular manner for conversation, by looking a little farther than your neighbours into whatever is become a reigning subject. If our armies are besieging a place of importance abroad, or our House of Commons debating a bill of consequence at home, you can hardly fail of being heard with pleasure, if you have nicely informed yourself of the strength, situation and history of the first, or of the reasons for and against the latter.

21. It will have the same effect if, when any single person begins to make a noise in the world, you can learn some of the smallest accidents in his life or conversation, which, though they are too fine for the observation of the vulgar, give more satisfaction to men of sense, (as they are the best openings to a real character) than the recital of his most glaring actions. I know but one ill consequence to be feared from this method, namely, that coming full charged into company, you should resolve to unload, whether an handsome opportunity offers itself or no.

22. The liberal arts, though they may possibly have less effect on our external mein and behaviour, make so deep an impression on the mind, as is very apt to bend it wholly one way.

The mathematician will take little less than demonstration in the most common discourse; and the schoolman is as great a friend to definitions and syllogisms. The physician and divine are often heard to dictate in private companies with the same authority which they exercise over their patients and disciples; while the lawyer is putting cases, and raising matter for disputation, out of every thing that occurs.

23. Though the asking of questions may plead for itself the spacious name of modesty, and a desire of information, it affords little pleasure to the rest of the company, who are not troubled with the same doubts; besides which, he who asks a question would do well to consider that he lies wholly at the mercy of another before he receives an answer.

24. Nothing is more silly than the pleasure some people take in what they call speaking their minds. A man of this make will say a rude thing for the mere pleasure of saying, it, when an opposite behaviour, full as, innocent, might have preserved his friend, or made his fortune.

It is not impossible for a man to form to himself as exquisite a pleasure in complying with the humour and sentiments of others, as of bringing others over to his own; since 'tis the certain sign of a superior genius, that can take and become whatever dress it pleases.

25. Avoid disputes as much as possible, in order to appear easy and well-bred, in conversation. You may assure yourself, that it requires more wit, as well as more good-humour, to improve than to contradict the notions of another; but if you are at any time obliged to enter on an argument, give your reasons with the inmost coolness and modesty, two things which scarce ever fail of making an impression on the hearers. Besides, if you are neither dogmatical, nor shew either by your actions or words, that you are full of yourself, all will the more heartily rejoice at your victory; nay, should, you be pinched in your argument, you may make your retreat with a very good graces you were never positive, and are now glad to be better informed.

26. This hath made some approve the socratical way of reasoning, where, while you scarce affirm any thing, you can hardly be caught in an absurdity; and though possibly you are endeavouring to bring over another to your opinion, which is firmly fixed, you seem only to desire information from him.

27. In order to keep that temper, which is so difficult and yet so necessary to preserve, you may please to consider, that nothing can be more unjust or ridiculous, than to be angry with another because he is not of your opinion. The interests, education, and means, by which men attain their knowledge, are so very different, that it is impossible they should all think alike; and he has at least us much reason to be angry with you, as you with him.

28. Sometimes to keep yourself cool, it may be of service to ask yourself fairly, what might have been your opinion, had you all the biases of education and interest your adversary may possibly have? But if you contend for the honour of victory alone, you may lay down this as an infallible maxim, That you cannot make a more false step, or give your antagonists a greater advantage over you, than by falling into a passion.

29. When an argument is over, how many weighty reasons does a man recollect, which his heat and violence made him utterly forget?

It is yet more absurd to be angry with a man, because he does not apprehend the force of your reasons, or give weak ones of his own. If you argue for reputation, this makes your victory the easier; he is certainly in all respects an object of your pity, rather than anger; and if he cannot comprehend what you do, you ought to thank nature for her favours, who has given you so much the clearer understanding.

30. You may please to add this consideration, that among your equals no one values your anger, which only preys upon its master; and perhaps you may find it not very consistent, either with prudence or your ease, to punish yourself whenever you meet with a fool or a knave.

31. Lastly, if you propose to yourself the true end of argument, which is information, it may be a seasonable check to your passion; for if you search purely after truth, it will be almost indifferent to you where you find it. I cannot in this place omit an observation which I have often made, namely, that nothing procures a man more esteem and less envy from the whole company, than if he chooses the part of moderator, without engaging directly on either side in a dispute.

32. This gives him the character of impartial, furnishes him an opportunity of sifting things to the bottom, shewing his judgment, and of sometimes making handsome compliments to each of the contending parties.

When you have gained a victory, do not push it too far; it is sufficient to let the company and your adversary see it is in your power, but that you are too generous to make use of it.

33. I shall only add, that besides what I have here said, there is something which can never be learnt but in the company of the polite. The virtues of men are catching as well as their vices, and your own observations added to these, will soon discover what it is that commands attention in one man, and makes you tired and displeased with the discourse of another.