by a wise, appreciative glance of the eye, is better;
for a man who has mastered the art of the wise look does his wife
credit, and is taken home from a call with his faculties unimpaired
and his self-respect undiminished: he is the same man as when he was
taken out. But not so the man who starts, hesitates, and stops, as if
he actually said, 'Hold-on-there-I-'ve-got-a-fine-idea--but--er--on
second thought--er--I--er--that is--I guess--er--it isn't--worth hearing.'

Such a man, I say, adds little to the pleasure of himself or the
company; he attracts attention only to disappoint it: and others are
kind as well as sensible to ignore him. He should have kept on rapidly
and developed his fine idea to the bitter end. Nor is it wise to attempt
to shine, to dazzle, to surprise with a clever epigram, thoughtfully
composed and tested by imaginary utterance before an imaginary charmed
circle while dressing; for nothing so diminishes confidence in an
epigram as successive failures to get it into circulation. In calling,
one must jump on the train of thought as it speeds by a way station; and
there is no happy mean between jumping on a passing train and standing
still on the platform--except, as I have suggested, a pleasant wave of
the hand as the train passes.

'There are not many situations,' said Dr. Johnson, 'more incessantly
uneasy than that in which the man is placed who is watching an
opportunity to speak, without courage to take it when offered, and who,
though he resolves to give a specimen of his abilities, always finds
some reason or other for delaying to the next minute.'

I know that resolve; and yet how often have I, too, failed at the
crucial moment to give the hoped-for specimen of my abilities! 'Not
yet,' I have said to myself, 'not yet. The time is not ripe.' And so I
have waited, incessantly uneasy,--as Dr. Johnson well puts it,--but
always finding some reason or other to postpone the fireworks. I was
beset by a kind of gross selfishness--an unwillingness to give _anybody_
a specimen of my abilities. Let them chatter! Little do they guess--and
never will they know--the abilities sitting on this chair! Give _them_ a
specimen! Yet I must confess also that my specimen seemed somehow
isolated and apart from my environment. It was all right in itself, but
it needed a setting; it was like a button without a coat, like an eye
without a face, like a kiss without a companion.

THE LIER IN BED

If I had to g