He.--Yes; but does this not presuppose a mind stored with those "treasured thoughts" about which we were speaking in our last conversation?
She.--Possibly, in a sense; but first of all, it presupposes harmony of taste, of feeling, of ideas. This does not mean, of course, that each shall agree with the other in all essentials, but that each shall have the same broad and intelligent way of looking at a subject, and a consideration each for the other's opinions.
He.--I think, though, that as a basis for harmonious intercourse, there must be an elimination of self. No one who is thoroughly selfish can interest any one but himself. It seems to me that the ideal relation between friends presupposes an entire elimination of self.
She.--Not necessarily so. One of the most tiresome persons that I know, is a gentleman who never refers to himself, to his aspirations, or to his plans; and for this reason, he fails entirely to awaken in his listener any interest in his personality whatsoever. He is the antipode of the person who talks only of what interests him. The person who uses discretion will not avoid all reference to himself, nor will he continually make himself the hero of his own story. It behooves us all to examine ourselves, and if we have either one of these faults to rid ourselves of it at once. In directing the trend of conversation, the tactful person will choose topics of mutual interest. People are interesting not in proportion as they recount their personal experiences, but as they evince a broad, general interest in what concerns others.
He.--We might add another golden rule to our list,--Golden Rule Number VI: BE NOT CONTINUALLY THE HERO OF YOUR OWN STORY, NOR ON THE OTHER HAND, DO NOT LEAVE YOUR STORY WITHOUT A HERO. In other words, it is fatal to one's success as a conversationalist either to eliminate oneself entirely or to appear self-centered.
She.--You might say to _be_ self-centered. Selfishness is one of the most disagreeable traits that a person can have, and he who has this to a marked degree should try to eradicate it. Some one has said, "If we had to count our ills, we would not choose suspense," we might add, "If we had to choose our faults we _should_ not choose selfishness." A person may observe all the golden rules that we have enumerated, but if he is at heart a selfish person, his conversation will lack the charm that emanates from the whole-souled individual whose first thought is to interest and entertain others. Let us cultivate an unselfish spirit, for without this, our words will be but as "sounding brass and tinkling cymbals."