The Man Who Pleases and the Woman Who Charms

by John A. Cone

We can put into requisition a nice sense of honor in our conversation. In a hundred different ways this most fitting attribute of the true woman and the real gentleman is often put to the test. We can remember that it is quite as easy to be ill-mannered in speech as in conduct.

There are men and women who, at a dinner, would not under any circumstances, transgress the rules of table etiquette, but who may offend quite as grossly by a thoughtless or an intemperate use of words. They may not dispense with the fork, but they wound the heart by unkind words. They may observe all the amenities from oyster-fork to finger-bowl, yet they offend some member of the company by sarcasm or personal innuendo. They may not misplace or misuse the napkin, but they may render the entire company uncomfortable by declining to yield, in argument, to the greater weight of evidence; or by overloading a story with unimportant details. They may be scrupulously neat, and of easy and graceful deportment, but may never have learned the gentle art of keeping one's temper sweet when criticised or when confronted by a contradiction.

These very suggestive words appeared in "The Churchman": "It is almost a definition of a gentleman to say that he is one who never inflicts pain. The true gentleman carefully avoids whatever may cause a jar or a jolt in the minds of those with whom he is cast. He has his eyes on all his company; he is tender toward the bashful, gentle toward the distant, and merciful toward the absurd. He avoids unreasonable allusions on topics which may irritate; he is seldom prominent in conversation, and never wearisome. Another delightful trait in him is that he makes light of favors when he bestows them, and seems to be receiving when he is conferring. He never speaks of himself except when compelled, never defends himself by a mere retort. He has no ears for slander or gossip; is scrupulous in imputing motives to those who interfere with him, and interprets everything for the best. He is never mean or small in his disputes, never insinuates evil which he dare not say out. He has too much good sense to be affronted at insults, and is too well employed to remember injuries. He may be right or wrong in his opinions, but he is too clear-headed to be unjust. He is as simple as he is forcible, and as brief as he is decisive."

The entertaining talker is not, of necessity, a great talker; he is often a good listener. He understands that a bright story, briefly told, will amuse, but that people are bored by a long story, filled with pointless details. He is not necessarily learned or profound. He understands that small change is of as much importance in social intercourse as it is between men in business. "Although deprecated by some wise people as vain and frivolous," says Zion's Herald, "small talk has a legitimate function in human intercourse. It is the small coin of conversation. Those who despise its use often get on as badly in social life as would the merchant who should exclude the dimes and quarters from his money-drawer. Without them, the wheels of trade would be blocked. An honest old copper penny will often turn the corner of a good bargain. Chit-chat gives ease to conversation. The strait-jacket is removed; the mental forces have full play; the man acts himself; and the communication of soul with soul becomes free and delightful. With small talk he is familiar, and can toss it about as a juggler does his cards. The philosopher with his learned and exact phrases at once deadens the flow of soul."

Men and women are not strictly original. The things we say to-day have been said just as well a thousand times before; but that forms no reason why we should not say them again. The coins in your purse have been through a hundred hands and are not the less useful in serving you again.

The fellowship enjoyed rather than the store of wisdom communicated, is the end of conversation. Whether they say anything of importance or not, we like to hear some persons talk; they inspire us and set our own mental machinery in motion. Small talk often brings us most readily in contact with another soul.

All good conversationalists know the use of small talk. To be sure, they know something more, something larger and better, but the chinks in the larger subject are filled in wonderfully by a familiar interpolation of the smaller things in a chatty way. Many a wise and learned man would be a better talker if he had at hand a supply of small coin. He can talk extremely well on serious and recondite subjects, but the quick jest and easy repartee of the parlor and the dining-room are beyond him. He is, in spite of his learned lore, at a disadvantage in society, where there is no time for homilies or for treatises on erudite topics. Persons less gifted chat and laugh and have a good time while he sits in gloomy silence. Those who would please and be pleased in social intercourse must carry with them and be ready to dispense the small change of light and witty conversation.

To be popular in society, find out whether your companion prefers to talk or listen; avoid personalities; endeavor to lead the conversation to subjects familiar and interesting to others rather than especially pleasing to yourself; never indulge in sarcasm; be good-natured and sympathetic; strive to be tactful; exchange small courtesies; talk to all with equal attention and interest, and whatever the topic of conversation, or wherever you may be, appear cheerfully contented. Acquire, and then exhibit, that adaptability to place and people which conduces ever to grateful and pleasing companionship.

William Mathews writes in Success: "Conversation rules the destiny of the state and of the individual; from diplomacy, which is essentially the art of conversing skilfully on political themes, down to the daily transactions of the mart and the exchange, its empire is evident to all.

"Such being the potency and importance of conversation, why is so little attention given to its culture to-day? Why is it that so many educated men, who are fastidious regarding their personal appearance, and bestow upon their bodies the most solicitous care, are yet willing to send their minds abroad in a state of slovenliness, regardless of the impression they make?"