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Contents ( 59)
  1. THE BATTLE OF THE BOOKS
  2. * * *
  3. JONATHAN SWIFT
  4. *
  5. Contents
  6. *
  7. Introduction
  8. *
  9. The Bookseller to the Reader
  10. *
  11. The Preface of the Author
  12. *
  13. The Battle of the Books
  14. *
  15. The Episode of Bentley and Wotton
  16. *
  17. A Meditation Upon a Broomstick
  18. *
  19. Predictions for the Year 1708
  20. *
  21. The Accomplishment of the First of Mr. Bickerstaff's Predictions
  22. *
  23. Baucis and Philemon
  24. *
  25. The Logicians Refuted
  26. *
  27. The Puppet Show
  28. *
  29. Cadenus and Vanessa
  30. *
  31. Stella's Birthday, 1718
  32. *
  33. Stella's Birthday, 1720
  34. *
  35. Stella's Birthday
  36. *
  37. Stella's Birthday, 1724
  38. *
  39. Stella's Birthday, March 13, 1726
  40. *
  41. To Stella
  42. *
  43. The First He Wrote Oct 17, 1727
  44. *
  45. The Second Prayer was Written Nov 6, 1727
  46. *
  47. The Beasts' Confession
  48. *
  49. An Argument Against Abolishing Christianity
  50. *
  51. Hints Towards an Essay on Conversation
  52. *
  53. Thoughts on Various Subjects
  54. *
  55. A Modest Proposal
  56. *
  57. * * *
  58. Endnotes
  59. *

Hints Towards an Essay on Conversation

*

I have observed few obvious subjects to have been so seldom, or at least so slightly, handled as this; and, indeed, I know few so difficult to be treated as it ought, nor yet upon which there seemeth so much to be said.

Most things pursued by men for the happiness of public or private life our wit or folly have so refined, that they seldom subsist but in idea; a true friend, a good marriage, a perfect form of government, with some others, require so many ingredients, so good in their several kinds, and so much niceness in mixing them, that for some thousands of years men have despaired of reducing their schemes to perfection. But in conversation it is or might be otherwise; for here we are only to avoid a multitude of errors, which, although a matter of some difficulty, may be in every man's power, for want of which it remaineth as mere an idea as the other. Therefore it seemeth to me that the truest way to understand conversation is to know the faults and errors to which it is subject, and from thence every man to form maxims to himself whereby it may be regulated, because it requireth few talents to which most men are not born, or at least may not acquire without any great genius or study. For nature bath left every man a capacity of being agreeable, though not of shining in company; and there are a hundred men sufficiently qualified for both, who, by a very few faults that they might correct in half an hour, are not so much as tolerable.

I was prompted to write my thoughts upon this subject by mere indignation, to reflect that so useful and innocent a pleasure, so fitted for every period and condition of life, and so much in all men's power, should be so much neglected and abused.

And in this discourse it will be necessary to note those errors that are obvious, as well as others which are seldomer observed, since there are few so obvious or acknowledged into which most men, some time or other, are not apt to run.

For instance, nothing is more generally exploded than the folly of talking too much; yet I rarely remember to have seen five people together where some one among them hath not been predominant in that kind, to the great constraint and disgust of all the rest. But among such as deal in multitudes of words, none are comparable to the sober deliberate talker, who proceedeth with much thought and caution, maketh his preface, brancheth out into several digressions, findeth a hint that putteth him in mind of another story, which he promiseth to tell you when this is done; cometh back regularly to his subject, cannot readily call to mind some person's name, holdeth his head, complaineth of his memory; the whole company all this while in suspense; at length, says he, it is no matter, and so goes on. And, to crown the business, it perhaps proveth at last a story the company hath heard fifty times before; or, at best, some insipid adventure of the relater.