Talkers Part 33

"I _wonder_ what he will do when he finds the county so filled with Methodists and Methodist chapels."

He will find something to do, I said, if he means to put them down.

"I _wonder_ whether he will put them down," he said.

You need not wonder about that, I rejoined.

"I _wonder_ why?"

Wonder why! He may as well try to put down the Cornish hills into plains or valleys.

The fact is, one can scarcely speak with any one, or enter any company, but the first utterance he hears is "I wonder."

Persons wonder what the weather will be; they wonder what time it is; they wonder who is going to preach on Sunday; they wonder what the preacher's text will be; they wonder what will be for dinner; they wonder who will be in the company; they wonder who is going to be married; they wonder who is dead in the next newspaper. In fine, this _wonder_ is a wonderful word in almost everybody's lips.

I _wonder_ whether some other mode of expression could not be adopted, which would either be a subst.i.tute for it, or somewhat of variation: so that the _wonderer_ may not be so common a talker in the circles of society.

But it is one thing to be _always_ wondering, and quite another thing to wonder occasionally, when the statement made, or question asked, is of such a nature as to _require_ or to _demand_ a _wonder_. It is possible to get into the way of wondering so that you will not know when you do _wonder_. It is supposed that persons only _wonder_ when things of great surprise and astonishment are heard, such as the fall of stars, the overthrow of cities by earthquakes, etc. At the reading or hearing of such things, it seems natural that persons should _wonder_. But why they should wonder at almost every trivial thing they ask in ordinary conversation is to me an inexplicable mystery.

There is another use of the word which I had nearly forgotten. In American society I remember this word is used in the opposite sense to what it is in this country.

"I have just come from New York by steamboat, and I saw Mr. Bouser on board."

"Well; I _wonder_!" is the reply.

"I saw the moon in the sky as I came here this evening."

"I _wonder_!" is the answer.

"Do you know I met a little girl of the Sunday-school in the street?"

"I _wonder_!" said a grave-looking lady.

"Mr. and Miss Lane are going to be married next week by Mr. Sparks."

"I really _wonder_!" was the general exclamation of the company, although they had heard it before at different times.

This wonderer in America is, if possible, more ludicrous than in England. In both he is ludicrous; and the sooner he changes into some other form of talker, more sensible, the better.

XX. THE TERMAGANT.--This is a talker chiefly of the female s.e.x; and it is in this gender we shall give our sketch.

Jemima, the wife of Job Sykes, was a woman of turbulent and fiery temper; but he was a man calm and self-possessed. Her tongue was as the pen of a ready-writer, in the rapidity with which it talked, and as the point of a needle and the edge of a razor in the keenness of its words.

Sometimes she was loud and boisterous, violent and raging, attacking her prey as a tigress, rather than as a human being. Sometimes she was snappish, snarling, waspish. Her husband, her children, her servants, her neighbours, all came in for their share, in their turn, of her bites, stings, and poisons.

It was, however, poor Job who fell in for the lion's share. Alas for him! He often found the words of Solomon to be true: "It is better to dwell in the wilderness than with a contentious and angry woman" (Prov.

xxi. 19). As there was no wilderness into which he could fly to escape the tongue of his dear Jemima, he would fly away into a solitary room, or into the adjoining garden, or into a neighbour's house, or take a walk in the lonely road,--anywhere to shelter himself from the fiery droppings of his termagant spouse.

The least imaginable thing that crossed her will or temper would set Jemima's tongue-machine a-going; and when once started, it rattled away like a medley of tin, gla.s.s, and stones turned in a churn. It threw out words like razors, darts, fire-brands, scorpions, wasps, mosquitos, flying helter-skelter in all directions about the head of poor Job, and he seldom escaped without wounds which lasted for days together. He has been known to receive cuts and bruises that have prevented his speaking to his "darling" for weeks in succession.

Mrs. Caudle's lectures to her husband were mild, entertaining, and instructive to what Job Sykes received from Mrs. Sykes. Mrs. Caudle, I think, always addressed her beloved in the evening within curtains, when he was in such a condition of mind and body as rendered him impervious to the entrance of her loving words; so that he would even go to sleep under them, as a babe under the soothing lullaby of its mother. But Job's dear wife fired away at him anywhere, at any time: night or day, at home or from home, in company or out of company. Given the least cause, the attack would begin and be carried on until the ammunition was exhausted.

As we have said, Job was of a quiet disposition, although firm and never yielding his place to his "weaker vessel;" and he generally found that silence or "soft answers" were his best weapons.

And so they are in every such case: and if any one of my readers is afflicted with a wife like Job Sykes' wife, he will find that his policy is the wisest to follow.

Sometimes a cure is effected in this talker, and the husband rejoices in the salvation wrought out for him. Sometimes there is no cure excepting in the paralysis of death. This, too, is salvation to many hen-pecked husbands, in which they also rejoice. Such has been the mighty deliverance accomplished for some, that they have even celebrated it by appropriate epitaphs on the tombstones of their buried partners. The following is one said to be at Burlington, Ma.s.sachusetts:--

"Sacred to the memory of Anthony Drake, Who died for peace and quietness' sake, His wife was constantly scolding and scoffing, So he sought repose in a twelve dollar coffin."

There is another in Ellon churchyard:--

"Here lies my wife in earthly mould, Who, when she lived, did nought but scold.

Peace! wake her not, for now she's still; She had, but now I have _my_ will."

x.x.xII.

_A MODEL TALKER._

"Let your speech be alway with grace, seasoned with salt, that ye may know how ye ought to answer every man."--PAUL.

Having devoted the previous pages to sketches of faulty talkers, I propose in this concluding chapter to give a description of a talker who may be exhibited as a model for imitation.

As there is but One Model Man in the world, so there is only One Model Talker. The Apostle James tells us who he is: "If any man offend not in word, the same is a perfect man, and able also to bridle the whole body."

But who is the man that offends not in word? Where is he to be found? Is he not rather an ideal being than a _real_ one? Be he ideal or real, it may answer some good end to set him forth as far as his ideality or reality can be apprehended.

It may be well to premise just here that when it is said "he _offends not in word_," it does not imply that no one ever _takes offence_ at his word, but that he offends not through any defect in his intention, that he is not held blamable or responsible for any offence taken at his word. Not until every _hearer_ is perfect as well as every talker will offence cease on both sides. Did offence taken by the hearer necessarily involve offence given by the talker, He of whom it was said, "Never man spake like this man," would fail to be perfect; yea, even G.o.d Himself would come short of perfection: for how many took offence at the words of Jesus! and how many are continually offended at the words of the Almighty!

The following may be given as the outline features of a model talker.

There is only s.p.a.ce for an outline.

He endeavours, as far as possible, to ascertain the temper and disposition of those with whom he talks.

He is cautious how he receives and repeats anything that he hears from one in whose veracity he has not implicit confidence.

If any one with whom he is talking says anything that is detrimental to the character and interests of an absent person, he hopes charitably that it is not true, and avoids circulating it in his conversation or in other ways.

He does not impose his talk upon others against prudence and propriety.

"He spareth his words in wisdom and understanding" (Prov. xvii. 27).

"Whoso keepeth his mouth and his tongue keepeth his soul from troubles"

(Prov. xxi. 23). "He that keepeth his mouth keepeth his life" (Prov.

xiii. 3).

No corrupt communication proceeds out of his mouth; no bitterness, wrath, anger, clamour, evil-speaking, malice; no filthiness nor jesting, nor blasphemy, nor reviling, nor slander. (See Eph. iv. 29, v. 4; Col.