THE CANDLES OF CONVERSATION

Avoid the unfortunate habit that some persons have of snuffing out the candles of conversation. If any one introduces a topic, the reasonable inference is that he is interested in that topic and remark number two from you should not throw cold water on it. Do not merely listen, but attend, stretch mentally toward your companion, be with him in thought. “Find out where people are and meet them there.” Only in this way will you yourself gain the full measure of what the other person has to give and be able to reply to the finer points of his remark. A good rule in conversation is “when in doubt keep still.” Never be betrayed into talking merely because you are nervous. Arthur Vincent speaks somewhere of the unhappy spectacle made by the shy man who attempts to cover his shyness by garrulity. When you do speak, take all the time there is. That is to say, do not feel hurried or flurried. Speak when you speak—without fear and with dignity. Never press unduly any slight advantage you may acquire in conversation. Your companion is not your victim nor are you to shine as his superior. A fine manner is made up of many slight sacrifices.

If, in spite of yourself, you are drawn into a heated, wordy and futile argument, you are justified in assenting to any claims whatsoever your unwise companion may make. It was the practise of Stella, says one of her biographers, to agree with such persons, as she said, “to save noise.”


THE TELLING OF STORIES

If you attempt to tell a story, be sure, in the first place, that it is worth telling, and in the second place, that you know it thoroughly, and in the third place, that you tell it reasonably well. But the social company that is transformed into a succession of “good stories” does not represent the highest social plane. A particularly good story is always desirable if it comes in naturally to point some phase of a discussion that is in progress, but a run of stories represents an intellectual descent. In whatever you are telling or describing, beware of too much detail. Remember the French proverb, “To tell all is to be tedious.”


SERENITY AND GENTLENESS

Cheerfully accord the other person the last word in any discussion, giving your own view once quietly and if it does not arouse interest, do not insist on it. Never raise your voice to command attention. Never spoil a fine moment by any disagreeable allusions. There are always some people who have a gift for introducing the subject of ptomaine poisoning during the fish course, or who, on an outing, make all the other women uncomfortable by talking about snakes. Remember that comparisons are dangerous and that superlatives are also often the forerunner of embarrassment. Be prepared for surprises and do not allow them to throw you off your balance. Never allow yourself to become a fussbudget. Serenity is one great element of social charm. Du Maurier tells us that Trilby knew “when to speak and when to keep silence.” George Meredith, in his delightful romance, Sandra Belloni, says of Sandra, “She moved softly as if she loved everything that she touched.” A certain softness of manner is undoubtedly a large part of attractiveness, but the sharp edge of self-assertion destroys. The gentleness of Hamlet’s unhappy love is shown in the warning spoken before one of her entrances: “Soft you now, the fair Ophelia.” “Remember,” says a modern writer on voice training: “that every time you speak you touch some one with your voice.”