All local wits, all those whose jests are understood only within the range of their own circle or coterie, are decided objectionables in general society. It is the height of ill-breeding, in fact, to converse, or jest, on subjects that are not perfectly understood by the party at large; it is a species of rude mystification, as uncivil as whispering, or as speaking in language that may not be familiar to some of the party. But you must not make a fool of yourself, even if others show themselves deficient in good manners; and must not, like inflated simpletons, fancy yourself the object of every idle jest you do not understand, or of every laugh that chance may have called forth. Ladies and gentlemen feel that they are neither laughed at nor ridiculed.
In society, the object of conversation is of course entertainment and improvement, and it must, therefore, be adapted to the circle in which it is carried on, and must be neither too high nor too deep for the party at large, so that every one may contribute his share, just at his pleasure, and to the best of his ability. Let no two or three old Indians, old school-fellows, or old brother campaigners, seize upon the conversation to themselves, discuss their former adventures, and keep the rest of a party listening silently to an animated conversation about exploded stories, of which they know nothing and care as little.
Lord Chesterfield advises his son "to speak often, but not to speak much at a time; so that if he does not please, he will not at least displease to any great extent." A good observer should easily, I think, be able to discover whether he pleases or not.
Rousseau tells us, that "persons who know little talk a great deal, while those who know a great deal say very little."
If the discourse is of a grave or serious nature, and interesting to the party, or to any number of the party, never break in upon it with any display of idle wit or levity; for nothing shows so great a want of good manners; nor must you ever ridicule or doubt the existence of any noble enthusiasm that may have called forth expressions of admiration; for there is no want of high worth, patriotism, honor and disinterestedness on earth. Your incredulity might therefore be unjust, and it is at all times a proof of bad taste to ridicule what others admire.
If you join in the graver conversation, intended to move the deeper feelings of the heart, do so without affectation, without overstretching sentiments, or bringing in far-fetched ideas for the sake of producing effect, otherwise you will be sure to fail. Avoid, above all, when on such topics, any stringing together of unmeaning words; for bad as the practice of substituting sound for sense is at all times, it is doubly so when conversation takes the direction of which we are speaking, as it then shows the jingler to want feelings as well as ideas. Speak from the heart, when you speak to the heart; only making judgment prune the expressions of deep feeling, without checking the noble sentiments that may have called them forth.
The reason which renders this pruning system advisable is, that society swarms with worthy, respectable persons, possessing an ordinary share of superficial good-nature, but so destitute of actual feeling, as not even to understand its language; and who, without being scoffers, will be inclined to laugh at expressions that convey no ideas to their minds.
The same reason should serve as a warning to all gentlemen against writing love-letters; for if a gentle swain is really and truly in love, he will write under excited feelings; and a letter written with a palpitating heart, threatening to break a rib at every throb, can hardly fail to appear a little ridiculous in the eyes of all who may not chance to be exactly in the same frame of mind, or possessed of the same degree of feeling with the writer.
There is a giggling and laughing tone, in which ladies and gentlemen sometimes endeavor to speak,—an attempt to continue a series of jests from the first to last, which is not only foolish, but actually offensive. Conversation can never be kept up to the laughing point during a whole evening,—not even during a morning visit; and efforts to excite laughter by overstrained jests are as repulsive as overstrained efforts to groan and grimace it. The natural flow of discourse must be calm and serene; if wit, whim, fun and fire are present, they will not fail to flash brightly along its surface; but they can never constitute the main body of the stream itself.
Different parties, different tones no doubt, and an assembly of grave doctors and professors, meeting to discuss some learned subject, may treat it in their own way; here we can only speak of general society. It is said, that the guests at a pleasant dinner party should never exceed the number of the Muses, nor fall below that of the Graces. And this may be true; but a party of three or four is already very different in character,—independent of the difference occasioned by the characters of the guests,—from what a party of eight or nine will be. In small parties of this kind, numbers alone exercise great influence. But large or small, always recollect that you can have no right to complain of the dullness of the conversation, unless you have contributed your best efforts to render it cheerful.