Study Edition · Essay 29
Conversation
Source: The Rambler, No. 188, Saturday 4 January 1752. Text from The Works of Samuel Johnson (Oxford, 1825), vol. 3, Project Gutenberg #11397. Archaic verb forms modernized; vocabulary kept and glossed.
Why are the most admired people in company so rarely the cleverest? Johnson, himself the most famous talker of his age, observes that we like to be pleased but dislike being made to feel inferior. He then sketches a gallery of social types who are popular without real merit: the storyteller, the “merry fellow,” the “good-natured man,” the modest man, and the club entertainer who draws a giant on the wall every night at eleven.
32 sentences: 2 simple, 9 moderate, 21 complex. Hover a number for its paraphrase; click it for the full note.
Key Vocabulary
- blamabledeserving blame
- hermitagethe home of a hermit; a place of isolation
- vexationannoyance; irritation
- felicityhappiness
- privationthe loss or lack of something needed
- esteemto respect and admire
- abatementa reduction; a lessening
- reciprocallyin return; mutually
- sallya witty remark; a sudden outburst
- anecdotea short, amusing story about a real person or event
- plebeianof the common people
- ingratiateto make oneself liked, often deliberately
- compendiousbrief; quick and efficient
- officiousnessbeing too eager to help or interfere
- obstreperousnoisy and hard to control
- vociferationloud shouting
- indolencelaziness
- raillerygood-humoured teasing
- smut (verb)to smudge with soot
- drawera barman who drew drinks in a tavern (old sense)
- reverence (verb)to respect deeply
The Essay
Si te colo, Sexte, non amabo. (Martial)
The more I honour thee, the less I love.1
None of the desires dictated by vanity is more general, or less blamable, than that of being distinguished for the arts of conversation.2 Other accomplishments may be possessed without opportunity of exerting them, or wanted without danger that the defect can often be remarked; but as no man can live, otherwise than in a hermitage, without hourly pleasure or vexation, from the fondness or neglect of those about him, the faculty of giving pleasure is of continual use.3 Few are more frequently envied than those who have the power of forcing attention wherever they come, whose entrance is considered as a promise of felicity, and whose departure is lamented, like the recess of the sun from northern climates, as a privation of all that enlivens fancy, or inspirits gaiety.4
It is apparent, that to excellence in this valuable art, some peculiar qualifications are necessary; for every one's experience will inform him, that the pleasure which men are able to give in conversation, holds no stated proportion to their knowledge or their virtue.5 Many find their way to the tables and the parties of those who never consider them as of the least importance in any other place; we have all, at one time or other, been content to love those whom we could not esteem, and been persuaded to try the dangerous experiment of admitting him for a companion, whom we knew to be too ignorant for a counsellor, and too treacherous for a friend.6
I question whether some abatement of character is not necessary to general acceptance.7 Few spend their time with much satisfaction under the eye of uncontestable superiority; and therefore, among those whose presence is courted at assemblies of jollity, there are seldom found men eminently distinguished for powers or acquisitions.8 The wit whose vivacity condemns slower tongues to silence, the scholar whose knowledge allows no man to fancy that he instructs him, the critic who suffers no fallacy to pass undetected, and the reasoner who condemns the idle to thought, and the negligent to attention, are generally praised and feared, reverenced and avoided.9
He that would please must rarely aim at such excellence as depresses his hearers in their own opinion, or debars them from the hope of contributing reciprocally to the entertainment of the company.10 Merriment, extorted by sallies of imagination, sprightliness of remark, or quickness of reply, is too often what the Latins call, the Sardinian laughter, a distortion of the face without gladness of heart.11
For this reason, no style of conversation is more extensively acceptable than the narrative.12 He who has stored his memory with slight anecdotes, private incidents, and personal peculiarities, seldom fails to find his audience favourable.13 Almost every man listens with eagerness to contemporary history; for almost every man has some real or imaginary connexion with a celebrated character, some desire to advance or oppose a rising name.14 Vanity often co-operates with curiosity.15 He that is a hearer in one place, qualifies himself to become a speaker in another; for though he cannot comprehend a series of argument, or transport the volatile spirit of wit without evaporation, he yet thinks himself able to treasure up the various incidents of a story, and please his hopes with the information which he shall give to some inferior society.16
Narratives are for the most part heard without envy, because they are not supposed to imply any intellectual qualities above the common rate.17 To be acquainted with facts not yet echoed by plebeian mouths, may happen to one man as well as to another; and to relate them when they are known, has in appearance so little difficulty, that every one concludes himself equal to the task.18
But it is not easy, and in some situations of life not possible, to accumulate such a stock of materials as may support the expense of continual narration; and it frequently happens, that they who attempt this method of ingratiating themselves, please only at the first interview; and, for want of new supplies of intelligence, wear out their stories by continual repetition.19
There would be, therefore, little hope of obtaining the praise of a good companion, were it not to be gained by more compendious methods; but such is the kindness of mankind to all, except those who aspire to real merit and rational dignity, that every understanding may find some way to excite benevolence; and whoever is not envied may learn the art of procuring love.20 We are willing to be pleased, but are not willing to admire: we favour the mirth or officiousness that solicits our regard, but oppose the worth or spirit that enforces it.21
The first place among those that please, because they desire only to please, is due to the merry fellow, whose laugh is loud, and whose voice is strong; who is ready to echo every jest with obstreperous approbation, and countenance every frolic with vociferations of applause.22 It is not necessary to a merry fellow to have in himself any fund of jocularity, or force of conception; it is sufficient that he always appears in the highest exaltation of gladness, for the greater part of mankind are gay or serious by infection, and follow without resistance the attraction of example.23
Next to the merry fellow is the good-natured man, a being generally without benevolence, or any other virtue, than such as indolence and insensibility confer.24 The characteristic of a good-natured man is to bear a joke; to sit unmoved and unaffected amidst noise and turbulence, profaneness and obscenity; to hear every tale without contradiction; to endure insult without reply; and to follow the stream of folly, whatever course it shall happen to take.25 The good-natured man is commonly the darling of the petty wits, with whom they exercise themselves in the rudiments of raillery; for he never takes advantage of failings, nor disconcerts a puny satirist with unexpected sarcasms; but while the glass continues to circulate, contentedly bears the expense of an uninterrupted laughter, and retires rejoicing at his own importance.26
The modest man is a companion of a yet lower rank, whose only power of giving pleasure is not to interrupt it.27 The modest man satisfies himself with peaceful silence, which all his companions are candid enough to consider as proceeding not from inability to speak, but willingness to hear.28
Many, without being able to attain any general character of excellence, have some single art of entertainment which serves them as a passport through the world.29 One I have known for fifteen years the darling of a weekly club, because every night, precisely at eleven, he begins his favourite song, and during the vocal performance, by corresponding motions of his hand, chalks out a giant upon the wall.30 Another has endeared himself to a long succession of acquaintances by sitting among them with his wig reversed; another by contriving to smut the nose of any stranger who was to be initiated in the club; another by purring like a cat, and then pretending to be frightened; and another by yelping like a hound, and calling to the drawers to drive out the dog.31
Such are the arts by which cheerfulness is promoted, and sometimes friendship established; arts, which those who despise them should not rigorously blame, except when they are practised at the expense of innocence; for it is always necessary to be loved, but not always necessary to be reverenced.32
Sentence Notes
In plain English: “If I respect you, Sextus, I shall not love you.” The English line is the Rambler's translation.
Reference & context: Martial, Epigrams II.55. The motto states the essay's paradox: admiration and affection often pull in opposite directions.
In plain English: Of all the wishes that come from vanity, none is more common, or more forgivable, than wanting to be known as a good talker.
In plain English: You can have other skills and never get a chance to use them, or lack them without anyone often noticing. But since nobody, unless he lives as a hermit, can escape feeling pleased or hurt every hour by how the people around him treat him, the ability to please others is always useful.
In plain English: Few people are envied more than those who command attention wherever they go, whose arrival promises fun, and whose leaving is mourned, like the sun's retreat from northern lands in winter, as the loss of everything that brightens imagination and lifts spirits.
Why this phrase is worth keeping: A lovely simile: the popular guest's departure feels like an Arctic winter setting in.
In plain English: Clearly, excelling at this valuable art needs some special qualities, because everyone knows from experience that how much pleasure people give in conversation bears no fixed relation to how knowledgeable or good they are.
Why this phrase is worth keeping: The essay's key observation in one sentence.
In plain English: Many people get invited to the dinners and parties of others who think them completely unimportant anywhere else. We have all, at some time, been happy to like people we couldn't respect, and been tempted into the risky experiment of keeping company with someone we knew was too ignorant to give advice and too untrustworthy to be a friend.
Why this phrase is worth keeping: A balanced, bitingly honest description of the charming but worthless companion.
In plain English: I wonder whether you need to be somewhat less than excellent in order to be generally liked.
Why this phrase is worth keeping: A startling and very modern suggestion: being too impressive makes you less popular.
In plain English: Few people enjoy spending time with someone obviously superior to them. So among those who are eagerly invited to parties, you rarely find people of outstanding ability or learning.
In plain English: The quick wit whose speed silences slower talkers, the scholar so learned that nobody can imagine teaching him anything, the critic who lets no error slip by, and the logician who forces the lazy to think and the careless to concentrate: all these are usually praised but feared, respected but avoided.
Why this phrase is worth keeping: Four sketches crowned by a perfectly balanced pair of contradictions.
In plain English: Anyone who wants to please should seldom aim at an excellence that makes listeners think less of themselves, or that takes away their hope of adding something to the conversation in return.
In plain English: Laughter forced out of people by flashes of imagination, lively comments or quick answers is too often what the Romans called “Sardinian laughter”: a twisting of the face without any real joy.
Why this phrase is worth keeping: A vivid image for forced, joyless laughter, and the root of the word “sardonic.”
Reference & context: “Sardonic laughter” (risus sardonicus) was said to come from a Sardinian plant whose poison made the face twist into a grin. The idea goes back to Homer (Odyssey 20.302). It is the origin of the English word “sardonic.”
In plain English: That's why no style of conversation goes down better with more people than telling stories.
In plain English: Someone who has a good supply of small anecdotes, private incidents and personal quirks rarely fails to find a friendly audience.
In plain English: Almost everyone loves hearing about current events, because almost everyone has some real or imagined link to a famous person, or wants to help or hinder someone becoming famous.
In plain English: Vanity often works hand in hand with curiosity.
Why this phrase is worth keeping: Four words that explain the whole business of gossip.
In plain English: Someone who listens in one gathering prepares himself to be the speaker in another. He may not follow a chain of reasoning, or carry a witty remark elsewhere without it losing its sparkle, but he thinks he can remember a story's details, and he looks forward to passing the news on to some less well-informed group.
Reference & context: The image of wit as a “volatile spirit” that “evaporates” comes from chemistry: like alcohol, a joke loses strength when carried somewhere else.
In plain English: People mostly listen to stories without jealousy, because telling them doesn't seem to require any special intelligence.
In plain English: Anyone might happen to hear news before ordinary people are repeating it, and retelling it looks so easy that everyone thinks he could do it.
In plain English: But it's hard, and for some people impossible, to build up enough stories to keep talking all the time. So people who try to win friends this way often please only at the first meeting, and then, running out of fresh news, wear their stories thin by repeating them.
Why this phrase is worth keeping: Every reader knows this person: the charming storyteller with only five stories.
In plain English: So there would be little hope of being thought good company if there weren't shortcuts. But people are so kind to everyone, except those who aim at real merit and dignity, that anyone, whatever his intelligence, can find a way to win goodwill; and anyone who isn't envied can learn how to be loved.
In plain English: We are happy to be entertained but reluctant to admire. We like the jokes or attentiveness that ask for our approval, but resist the merit or strength of character that demands it.
Why this phrase is worth keeping: The heart of the essay: we reward those who ask for our affection and resent those who command our respect.
In plain English: First among those who please simply because pleasing is all they want comes the “jolly fellow,” with a loud laugh and a strong voice, always ready to greet every joke with noisy approval and to back every prank with shouts of applause.
In plain English: The jolly fellow doesn't need to be funny or imaginative himself. It's enough that he always seems wildly happy, because most people catch cheerfulness or seriousness from others like an infection, and follow the example in front of them without resisting.
Why this phrase is worth keeping: An early observation of what psychologists now call emotional contagion.
In plain English: Next comes the “good-natured man,” who usually has no real kindness, or any other virtue except the kind that comes from being lazy and thick-skinned.
In plain English: The good-natured man's typical trait is that he can take a joke: he sits calm and untouched amid noise and chaos, swearing and filth; he hears every story without objecting, puts up with insults without answering, and goes wherever the current of silliness happens to flow.
In plain English: Second-rate wits love him because they can practise their teasing on him. He never exploits their weaknesses or embarrasses a feeble satirist with a surprise comeback. While the drinks go round, he happily lets them laugh at him all evening, and goes home delighted with how important he was.
Why this phrase is worth keeping: Johnson's sharpest irony: the butt of every joke believes he was the star.
In plain English: The “modest man” is an even lower kind of companion: the only way he adds to everyone's enjoyment is by not spoiling it.
Why this phrase is worth keeping: A deliciously dry definition.
In plain English: He is content to stay quietly silent, and his companions are generous enough to assume this is because he likes listening, not because he has nothing to say.
In plain English: Many people who can't achieve any overall excellence have one single party trick that carries them through life like a passport.
In plain English: I've known one man who has been the favourite of a weekly club for fifteen years because every evening at exactly eleven he starts his favourite song, and while singing draws a giant on the wall in chalk, moving his hand in time with the music.
Why this phrase is worth keeping: A wonderfully specific, absurd detail that makes the whole argument comic and believable.
In plain English: Another has charmed a long line of friends by wearing his wig back to front; another by managing to blacken the nose of every newcomer joining the club; another by purring like a cat and then pretending to be scared; and another by yelping like a dog and shouting to the bar staff to throw the dog out.
Modernized: frighted → frightened
In plain English: These are the tricks that spread cheerfulness and sometimes create friendships. People who look down on them shouldn't condemn them too harshly, unless they hurt the innocent; because we always need to be loved, but we don't always need to be revered.
Why this phrase is worth keeping: After all the satire, Johnson ends with a humane and surprising conclusion: being loved matters more than being admired.
Fun Fact
Johnson was himself a famously combative talker. As Oliver Goldsmith put it, “There is no arguing with Johnson; for when his pistol misses fire, he knocks you down with the butt end of it.” The painter Joshua Reynolds founded “The Club” in 1764 partly to give Johnson company. Johnson was the opposite of everyone this essay calls popular, and he seems to have known it.