The passage through the babbler’s ears leads, apparently, not to his mind, but to his tongue. Consequently, while others |E| retain what is said, the loquacious person lets it all leak away, and goes about like a vessel full of noise but void of sense. Nevertheless, if we are resolved to leave no stone unturned, let us say to the babbler:
Hush, boy: in silence many a virtue lies,
and, first and foremost, the two virtues of hearing and being heard. The garrulous person can get the benefit of neither, and makes a miserable failure of the very thing he is aiming at.
In other mental maladies—love of money, love of glory, love of pleasure—there is at least a chance of gaining the object pursued. But with the babbler that result can hardly happen. |F| What he desires is listeners, and listeners he cannot get, for they all run headlong away. If, when they are sitting in a lounge or taking a walk together, they catch sight of him approaching, they promptly pass each other the word to shift camp.
When a silence occurs at some meeting, it is said that Hermes has appeared upon the scene. Similarly, when a chatterer comes in to a wine-party or a social circle, everybody grows mum, for |503| fear of giving him an opportunity. And if he begins of his own accord to open his lips, then
As ere the storm, when the North wind blows
By the headland that juts to the deep,
the prospect of being tossed and seasick is so distressing that up they get and out they go.
For the same reason he finds no welcome from neighbours at a dinner or from messmates on a journey or a voyage. They merely tolerate him because they must. For he sticks to you anywhere and everywhere, seizing you by the clothes or the beard, and slapping you in the ribs.
Then are your feet most precious,