There are many conditions indispensable to the success of a narrative. These conditions are, first, novelty; the best stories weary when they are [p112] multiplied too much, because every one wishes to be an actor in his turn upon the stage of the world. So that, when you have anything excellent to relate, consult less your own desire to tell it, than the wishes of others to hear you. There are but too many people who discover the secret of wearying while telling very good things, on account of their too great eagerness to tell them.
The next thing is to take a suitable opportunity. Let your narration spring naturally from the conversation; let it explain a fact, or come in support of an opinion, but let it never appear to be introduced by the foolish pleasure of talking, or by a not less foolish desire of making a display of talent. Remember that the most meagre recitals, when they are àpropos, frequently please more than the best things in the world, when they are said out of time. And even endeavoring to monopolize the conversation is in bad ton, particularly for young persons and ladies, especially if it is but a few moments since they occupied the attention of the company. It is an agreeable and modest mark of propriety to request some one to relate an anecdote of the day, of which you have made mention, and the circumstances of which you desire to know. This is well suited to persons of distinguished talents. The person called upon, [p113] bows and excuses himself with a few words before acceding to your request.
It is of all importance that the language correspond to the different forms which the narration requires; that, under pretext of adorning our story, we do not wander into far-fetched comparisons, dull details, or interminable dialogues; that if we relate anything amusing or striking, we should observe the utmost seriousness, and finally, before commencing a recital of this kind, we keep in mind these lines of Lafontaine;
Il ne faut jamais dire aux gens,
Ecoutez un bon mot, oyez une merveille,
Savez-vous si les écoutans
En feront une estime à
la vôtre pareille?
When, for want of observing this, as well as many other similar rules, narrators fail of the expected effect, and think to be able to tell it over again, and remarking on the comic part of the story, and laboring to repeat it thus;—Do you not think this excellent, wonderful? Alas! they only add to their own defeat, and to the ennui of their poor hearers.
If one relates an anecdote which you already know, permit him to finish it, and do not in any way draw off the attention of those who are listening. If your opinion is asked, give it frankly, and without [p114] wishing to appear better informed than the narrator himself. Still farther; if you happen to be in tête-à-tête with the same narrator, observe the same silence, and listen with an air of interest, and if he happens to impart to you what he related the preceding day, which he had from you yourself, you should appear to listen with equal interest, as if for the first time. Frequently, in the midst of a recital, the narrator, through forgetfulness, hesitates, and thinks that he can recall it. Look at him attentively. If he is in doubt, declare that you are altogether ignorant of the subject in question. If his memory returns, request him to continue, at the same time saying; I listen to you always with new pleasure. This delicate politeness is particularly to be observed towards old persons.