If you are so unfortunate as to know one of these pests of society, get rid of her acquaintance as soon as you can. If allowed to go on, she will infallibly bring you into some difficulty, if not into disgrace. If she begins by telling you—“I had a hard battle to fight in your behalf last evening at Mrs. Morley’s. Miss Jewson, whom you believe to be one of your best friends, said some very severe things about you, which, to my surprise, were echoed by Miss Warden, who said she knew them to be true. But I contradicted them warmly. Still they would not be convinced, and said I must be blind and deaf not to know better. How very hard it is to distinguish those who love from those who hate us!”
Instead of encouraging the mischief-maker to relate the particulars, and explain exactly what these severe things really were, the true and dignified course should be to say as calmly as you can—“I consider no person my friend, who comes to tell such things as must give me pain and mortification, and lessen my regard for those I have hitherto esteemed, and in whose society I have found pleasure. I have always liked Miss Jewson and Miss Warden, and am sorry to hear that they do not like me. Still, as I am not certain of the exact truth, (being in no place where I could myself overhear the discussion,) it will make no difference in my behaviour to those young ladies. And now then we will change the subject, never to resume it. My true friends do not bring me such tales.”
By-the-bye, tatlers are always listeners, and are frequently the atrocious writers of anonymous letters, for which they should be expelled from society.
Let it be remembered that all who are capable of detailing unpleasant truths, (such as can answer no purpose but to produce bad feeling, and undying enmity,) are likewise capable of exaggerating and misrepresenting facts, that do not seem quite strong enough to excite much indignation. Tale-bearing always leads to lying. She who begins with the first of these vices, soon arrives at the second.
Some prelude these atrocious communications with—“I think it my duty to tell how Miss Jackson and Mrs. Wilson talk about you, for it is right that you should know your friends from your enemies.” You listen, believe, and from that time become the enemy of Miss Jackson and Mrs. Wilson—having too much pride to investigate the truth, and learn what they really said.
Others will commence with—“I’m a plain-spoken woman, and consider it right, for your own sake, to inform you that since your return from Europe, you talk quite too much of your travels.”
You endeavour to defend yourself from this accusation, by replying that “having seen much when abroad, it is perfectly natural that you should allude to what you have seen.”
“Oh! but there should be moderation in all things. To be candid—your friend Mrs. Willet says she is tired of hearing of France and Italy.”
“Why then does she always try to get a seat next to me, and ask me to tell her something more of those countries?”
“Well, I don’t know. People are so deceitful! There is Mr. Liddard, who says you bore him to death with talking about England.”