Some persons seem to forget that mere talking is not conversing; that it requires two to make a conversation, and that each must be in turn a listener; but no one can be an agreeable companion who is not as willing to listen as to talk.  Selfishness shows itself in this, as in a thousand other ways.  One who is always full of herself, and who thinks nothing so important as what she thinks, and says, and does, will be apt to engross more than her share of the talk, even when in the company of those she loves.

There are situations, however, wherein it is a kindness to be the chief talker:  as when a young lady is the eldest of the party, and has seen something, or been in some place, the description of which is desired by all around her.  If your mind is alive to the wishes and claims of others, you will easily perceive when it is a virtue to talk and when to be silent.  It is undue pre-occupation with self which blinds people, and prevents their seeing what the occasion requires.

Sometimes the most kind and sympathizing person will not do justice to her nature, but will appear to be cold and inattentive, because she does not know that it is necessary to give some sign that she is attending to what is addressed to her.  She averts her eye from the speaker, and listens in such profound silence, and with a countenance so immovable, that no one could suppose her to be at all interested by what she is hearing.  This is very discouraging to the speaker and very impolite.  Good manners require that you should look at the person who speaks to you, and that you should put in a word, or a look, from time to time, that will indicate your interest in the narrative.  A few interjections, happily thrown in by the hearer, are a great comfort and stimulus to the speaker; and one who has always been accustomed to this evidence of sympathy, or comprehension, in their friends, feels, when listened to without it, as if she were talking to a dead wall.

For the encouragement of those who feel themselves deficient in conversational powers, we will subjoin a notice of the lately-deceased wife of a clergyman in this state: 

“I saw and felt, when with her, as few others have ever made me feel, the power and uses of conversation.  With her it was always promotive of intellectual and moral life.  And here let me inform you, for the encouragement of those who may be thinking they would gladly do as she did in society, if they were able, that when I first knew Mrs. B., her powers of conversation were very small.  She was embarrassed whenever she attempted to convey her thoughts to others.  She labored for expression so much, that it was sometimes painful to hear her.  Still, her social, affectionate nature longed for communion with other minds and hearts, on all subjects of deepest import.  Her persevering efforts at length prevailed, and her ardent love of truth gave her utterance:  yes, an utterance that often delighted, and sometimes surprised, those who