d then sallying forth primed to bursting with
conversation! It is all very well to know beforehand the kind of line
you would wish to take, but spontaneity is a necessary ingredient of
talk, and to make up one's mind to get certain stories in, is to
deprive talk of its fortuitous charm. When two celebrated talkers of
the kind that I have described used to meet, the talk was nothing but a
smart interchange of anecdotes. There is a story of Macaulay and some
other great conversationalist getting into the swing at breakfast when
staying, I think, with Lord Lansdowne. They drew their chairs to the
fire, the rest of the company formed a circle round them, and listened
meekly to the dialogue until luncheon. What an appalling picture! One
sympathizes with Carlyle on the occasion when he was asked to dinner to
meet a great talker, who poured forth a continuous flow of jest and
anecdote until the meal was far advanced. Then came a lull; Carlyle
laid down his knife and fork, and looking round with the famous
"crucified" expression on his face, said in a voice of agonized
entreaty, "For God's sake take me away, and put me in a room by myself,
and give me a pipe of tobacco!" He felt, as I have felt on such
occasions, an imperative need of silence and recollection and repose.
Indeed, as he said on another occasion, of one of Coleridge's
harangues, "to sit still and be pumped into is never an exhilarating
process."

That species of talker is, however, practically extinct; though indeed
I have met men whose idea of talk was a string of anecdotes, and who
employed the reluctant intervals of silence imposed upon them by the
desperate attempt of fellow-guests to join in the fun, in arranging the
points of their next anecdote.

What seems to me so odd about a talker of that kind is the lack of any
sense of justice about his talk. He presumably enjoys the exercise of
speech, and it seems to me strange that it should not occur to him that
others may like it too, and that he should not concede a certain
opportunity to others to have their say, if only in the interests of
fair play. It is as though a gourmet's satisfaction in a good dinner
were not complete unless he could prevent every one else from partaking
of the food before them.

What is really most needed in social gatherings is a kind of moderator
of the talk, an informal president. Many people, as I have said, are
quite capable of talking interestingly, if they get a lead. The per