n life: it is getting
above himself, which is impossible. There is a Free-masonry in all things.
You can only speak to be understood, but this you cannot be, except by
those who are in the secret. Hence an argument has been drawn to supersede
the necessity of conversation altogether; for it has been said, that there
is no use in talking to people of sense, who know all that you can tell
them, nor to fools, who will not be instructed. There is, however, the
smallest encouragement to proceed, when you are conscious that the more
you really enter into a subject, the farther you will be from the
comprehension of your hearers--and that the more proofs you give of any
position, the more odd and out-of-the-way they will think your notions.
C---- is the only person who can talk to all sorts of people, on all sorts
of subjects, without caring a farthing for their understanding one word he
says--and _he_ talks only for admiration and to be listened to, and
accordingly the least interruption puts him out. I firmly believe he would
make just the same impression on half his audiences, if he purposely
repeated absolute nonsense with the same voice and manner and
inexhaustible flow of undulating speech! In general, wit shines only by
reflection. You must take your cue from your company--must rise as they
rise, and sink as they fall. You must see that your good things, your
knowing allusions, are not flung away, like the pearls in the adage. What
a check it is to be asked a foolish question; to find that the first
principles are not understood! You are thrown on your back immediately,
the conversation is stopped like a country-dance by those who do not know
the figure. But when a set of adepts, of _illuminati_, get about a
question, it is worth while to hear them talk. They may snarl and quarrel
over it, like dogs; but they pick it bare to the bone, they masticate it
thoroughly.

This was the case formerly at L----'s--where we used to have many lively
skirmishes at their Thursday evening parties. I doubt whether the
Small-coal man's musical parties could exceed them. Oh! for the pen of
John Buncle to consecrate a _petit souvenir_ to their memory!--There was
L---- himself, the most delightful, the most provoking, the most witty and
sensible of men. He always made the best pun, and the best remark in the
course of the evening. His serious conversation, like his serious writing,
is his best. No one ever stammered out such fine, piquant, de