ER III.

CONVERSATION.

MY DEAR NEPHEW,

I take it for granted, that upon first going from school to Oxford, and
entering into society different, in many respects, from any that you
have hitherto been accustomed to, you feel some of that shyness which
belongs to the character of most Englishmen. I should be sorry if you
did not. You probably feel diffident, too, of your ability to bear your
part in general conversation, and an apprehension of being, on that
account, set down as a stupid fellow. But don't be uneasy. More young
men, I am persuaded, hurt themselves by talking too much, than by
talking too little. When a fresh-man, at first starting, is quite at his
ease, and talks readily upon any subject that happens to be uppermost,
some of his companions may be amused at his coolness, but most of them
will be disgusted. If, by your look and manner, you show that you are
alive to what is said by others, and now and then throw in a remark, not
destitute of meaning, you will be more generally popular than one of
those random talkers. Men of a certain standing, qualified by their
liveliness or by their information to bear a leading part in
conversation, do not like to see an undue share of it engrossed by
others, especially by a mere youngster. They greatly prefer a good
listener to a ready talker.

Young practitioners in Doctors' Commons have, I believe, to pass through
their year of silence, before they are allowed to speak. During the
period of silence, they quietly observe, and become acquainted with, the
usages and practice of the court. Something similar to this period of
quiet observation, might not be inexpedient for a noviciate in society.
At all events, never talk for talking's sake; never speak unless you
have something to say worth attending to.

You will, I am sure, my dear nephew, take it in good part, if I point
out a few of the conversational faults, of which young men are apt to be
guilty. It is natural that we should talk most of that in which we are
most interested. Now, of all things in the world, a young man feels most
interested in _himself_. But if, in consequence of such feeling, he
ventures to talk much of himself, of his own habits, his own pursuits,
his own feelings, his own achievements, he will very soon be set down as
a bore and a conceited coxcomb. A young man naturally feels a strong
interest, an interest increased by separation, in his own immediate
family. This feeling, with some yo