Talkers Part 17

"12. Do all you can to make others happy. Be cheerful. Bend your neck and back more frequently when you pa.s.s those outside of 'select circles.' Fulfil your promises. Pay your debts. Be yourself all you see in others. Be a _good_ man, a _true Christian_, and then you cannot help _finally to_

"13. Stop grumbling."

The above is an admirable receipt for the grumbling disease. It is composed of ingredients each of which is the best quality of healing medicine. Every grumbler should take the whole as prescribed, and he will soon experience a sensible change in his nature for the better; his friends also will observe him rapidly convalescent, and after a short time will rejoice over his restoration to a sound healthy condition, called by moral physicians--"CONTENTMENT."

"Sweet are the thoughts that savour of content-- The quiet mind is richer than a crown; Sweet are the nights in careless slumber spent-- The poor estate scorns fortune's angry frown.

Such sweet content, such minds, such sleep, such bliss, Beggars enjoy when princes oft do miss.

The homely house that harbours quiet rest, The cottage that affords no pride nor care, The mean that 'grees with country music best, That sweet consort of Mirth's and Music's fare.

Obscured life sits down a type of bliss; A mind content both crown and kingdom is."

XIX.

_THE EGOTIST._

"What cracker is this same, that deafs our ears With this abundance of superfluous breath?"

SHAKESPEARE.

"For none more likes to hear himself converse."

BYRON.

This is a talker whose chief aim is the exhibition of himself in terms and phrases too fulsome and frequent for the pleasure of his hearers.

_I_ was, _I_ am, _I_ shall be, _I_ have, etc., are the p.r.o.nouns and verbs which he chiefly employs. He is all _I_. I is the representative letter of his name, his person, his speech, and his actions. There is nothing greater in the universe to him than that of which _I_ is the type. There is not a more essential letter in the English alphabet to him than the letter _I_. Destroy this, and he would be disabled in his conversation; he would lose the only emblem which he has to set himself off before the eyes of people. He is nothing and can do nothing without _I_. This stands out in an embossed form, which may be felt by the blind man, as well as be seen by those who have eyesight. If you tell him of an interesting circ.u.mstance in which a friend of yours was placed, "_I_" is sure to be the beginning of a similar story concerning himself.

Speak of some success which your friend has made in trade or commerce, and "_I_" will be the commencement of something similar, in which he has been more successful. You can inform him of nothing, but "_I_" is a.s.sociated with what is equal or far superior. Were one required to give an etymology of the egotist, it would be in the words of the Rev. J. B.

Owen: "One of those gluttonous parts of speech that gulp down every substantive in social grammar into its personal p.r.o.noun, condensing all the tenses and moods of other people's verbs into a first person singular of its own."

Mr. Slack, of the town of Kenton, was egregiously given to egotism. He was a man of ordinary education, but somewhat elevated above his neighbours in worldly circ.u.mstances. He carried himself with an air of imposing importance, as though he was lord of the entire county. In his conversation he a.s.sumed much more than others who knew him conceded. It was a little matter for him to ignore the abilities of other people. His own prominent self made such demands as almost absorbed the rights of everybody else. Whenever opportunity occurred, he set himself off as _most_ learned, _most_ wealthy, _most_ extensively known, numbering among his acquaintances the _most_ respectable. He rarely talked but to exhibit himself, alone, or in some aristocratic connections.

Mr. Dredge was a neighbour of Mr. Slack's, but of an opposite turn of mind. They were accustomed to make occasional calls upon each other.

Dredge was quiet and una.s.suming, and often allowed Slack to go on with his egotistic gibberish unchecked, which rather encouraged him in his personal weakness.

One morning Mr. Slack called upon Mr. Dredge to spend an hour in a friendly way, as he often did, and, as usual, the conversation was princ.i.p.ally about himself, and things relating to the same important personage.

"Have you seen the French Amba.s.sador yet, Mr. Dredge?"

"No. Have you?"

"Indeed I should think so. I have been in his company several times, and had private interviews with him; and do you know, Mr. Dredge, he showed me more respect and attention than any one else in his company at the same time. He gave me a most pressing invitation to dine with him to-morrow afternoon, at six o'clock; but really, Mr. Dredge, my engagements, you know, are so numerous and important that I was compelled respectfully to decline the honour."

"You must have felt yourself highly flattered," said Mr. Dredge calmly.

"Not at all! not at all! It is nothing for me, you know, to dine with amba.s.sadors. I think no more of that than of dining with you."

"Indeed!" said Dredge in a sarcastic tone. "I thank you for the compliment."

"No compliment at all, Mr. Dredge. It is the truth, I a.s.sure you; and were you to see the heaps of invitations which cover my parlour table, from persons equally as great as he, and more so, in fact, you would at once see the thing to be true. I feel it no particular honour to have an invitation from such a quarter, because so common. The Amba.s.sador took to me as soon as he saw me. He saw me, you know, to be one of his own stamp. I put on my best grace, and talked in my highest style, and I saw at once that he was prejudiced in my favour. It was my ability, you know, my ability, Mr. Dredge, which made an impression on his mind."

"I see, my friend," said Mr. Dredge, "you have not lost all the egotism of your former years."

"Egotism, egotism, Mr. Dredge! _I_ am no egotist--and never was. It is seldom I speak of myself. No man can help speaking of himself sometimes, you know. If you are acquainted with Squire Clark, he's the man, if you please, for egotism. Talk of egotism, sir, he surpa.s.ses me a hundred per cent. I am no egotist."

"I hope no offence, Mr. Slack," said Mr. Dredge.

"None at all, sir; I am not so easily offended. I am a man too good-tempered for that. I and you understand each other, you know."

"Have you been to the City lately?" inquired Mr. Dredge.

"I was there only last week; and whom do you think I travelled with in the train? His Grace the Duke of Borderland. He was delighted to see me, you know, and gave me a pressing invitation to call on him at his London residence. Did you not know that I and the Duke were old cronies?

We went to school together; and he was never half so clever as I was in the sciences and cla.s.sics. He was a dull scholar compared with me."

"You must have felt yourself somewhat honoured with his presence and attention."

"Well, you know, Mr. Dredge, it is just here. I am so much accustomed to high life, that the presence of dukes, lords, etc., is little more to me than ordinary society. Had my friend Mr. Clarke been thus honoured, he would have blazed it all about the country. _I_ would not have mentioned it now, only your question called it up."

The fact is, Mr. Dredge had heard of it before from a number of people to whom Mr. Slack had already told it.

At this stage of the talk between Messrs. Dredge and Slack a rap was heard at the front door. It was Mr. Sweet, a friend of Mr. Dredge, who had called on his way to an adjacent town.

Mr. Dredge introduced his friend to Mr. Slack, who gave him one of his egotistic shakes of the hand, and said, "How are you this morning?"

"Mr. Sweet," observed Mr. Dredge to Mr. Slack, "is an intimate friend of mine, and a professor in Hailsworth College."

"Indeed! I am very happy, extremely happy, to make his acquaintance,"

said Mr. Slack, with an air and voice which made the Professor open his eyes as to who he was. And without any more ceremony, Mr. Slack observed, "I know all the professors in that seat of learning. Drs.

Jones, Leigh, Waller, I am intimately acquainted with--special friends of mine."

To be candid, he had met with them on one occasion, and had received a formal introduction to them; but since then had not seen them.

"Are you at all acquainted with music, Professor Sweet?" asked Mr.

Slack.

"I know a little of it, but am no adept."

"O, sir, music is a n.o.ble science. It is the charm of my heart; it is enchantment to my inmost soul. Ah, sir, I have been nearly ruined by it many times! I carried it too far, you know. Not content with one instrument, I procured almost all kinds; and, sir, there is scarcely an instrument but I am perfectly at home with. And, sir, there is not a hymn or song but I can play or sing. Would you believe it, sir, that I stood first in the last grand oratorio which took place in the great metropolis? I sang the grand solo of the occasion. Allow me, sir, to give you a specimen of it." And here he struck off with the solo, much to the amus.e.m.e.nt of the Professor. "Ah, sir, that is a n.o.ble piece. Does not go so well in this room, you know, as it did in Exeter Hall. The audience was so enraptured, sir, with my performance, that they encored me again and again."

"Indeed, sir!" observed the Professor in a tone of keen sarcasm and strong unbelief.

"Of course, Professor, you are familiar with the cla.s.sics," said Mr.

Slack.

"Somewhat," replied the Professor, in a manner which indicated his disgust at the impertinence of the man.