How To Do It | Page 8

gathering of some thirty or forty
people,--most of them, as he confesses, his old schoolmates, a few of
them older than himself. But poor Tom was mortified, and thinks he
was disgraced, because he did not have anything to say, could not say it
if he had, and, in short, because he does not talk well. He hates talking
parties, he says, and never means to go to one again.
Here is also a letter from Esther W., who may speak for herself, and the
two may well enough be put upon the same file, and be answered
together:--
"Please listen patiently to a confession. I have what seems to me very
natural,--a strong desire to be liked by those whom I meet around me in
society of my own age; but, unfortunately, when with them my
manners have often been unnatural and constrained, and I have found
myself thinking of myself, and what others were thinking of me,
instead of entering into the enjoyment of the moment as others did. I
seem to have naturally very little independence, and to be very much
afraid of other people, and of their opinion. And when, as you might
naturally infer from the above, I often have not been successful in
gaining the favor of those around me, then I have spent a great deal of
time in the selfish indulgence of 'the blues,' and in philosophizing on
the why and the wherefore of some persons' agreeableness and
popularity and others' unpopularity."
There, is not that a good letter from a nice girl?

Will you please to see, dear Tom, and you also, dear Esther, that both
of you, after the fashion of your age, are confounding the method with
the thing. You see how charmingly Mrs. Pallas sits back and goes on
with her crochet while Dr. Volta talks to her; and then, at the right
moment, she says just the right thing, and makes him laugh, or makes
him cry, or makes him defend himself, or makes him explain himself;
and you think that there is a particular knack or rule for doing this so
glibly, or that she has a particular genius for it which you are not born
to, and therefore you both propose hermitages for yourselves because
you cannot do as she does. Dear children, it would be a very stupid
world if anybody in it did just as anybody else does. There is no
particular method about talking or talking well. It is one of the things in
life which "does itself." And the only reason why you do not talk as
easily and quite as pleasantly as Mrs. Pallas is, that you are thinking of
the method, and coming to me to inquire how to do that which ought to
do itself perfectly, simply, and without any rules at all.
It is just as foolish girls at school think that there is some particular
method of drawing with which they shall succeed, while with all other
methods they have failed. "No, I can't draw in india-ink [pronounced
in-jink], 'n' I can't do anything with crayons,--I hate crayons,--'n' I can't
draw pencil-drawings, 'n' I won't try any more; but if this tiresome old
Mr. Apelles was not so obstinate, 'n' would only let me try the
'monochromatic drawing,' I know I could do that. 'T so easy. Julia Ann,
she drew a beautiful piece in only six lessons."
My poor Pauline, if you cannot see right when you have a crayon in
your hand, and will not draw what you see then, no "monochromatic
system" is going to help you. But if you will put down on the paper
what you see, as you see it, whether you do it with a cat's tail, as
Benjamin West did it, or with a glove turned inside out, as Mr. Hunt
bids you do it, you will draw well. The method is of no use, unless the
thing is there; and when you have the thing, the method will follow.
So there is no particular method for talking which will not also apply to
swimming or skating, or reading or dancing, or in general to living.
And if you fail in talking, it is because you have not yet applied in
talking the simple master-rules of life.
For instance, the first of these rules is,
Tell the Truth.

Only last night I saw poor Bob Edmeston, who has got to pull through
a deal of drift-wood before he gets into clear water, break down
completely in the very beginning of his acquaintance with one of the
nicest girls I know, because he would not tell the truth, or did not. I was
standing right behind them, listening to Dr. Ollapod, who was
explaining to me the history of the second