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Side 27 av 112
An amiable person is one who has a capacity for loving and being
loved. An affable person is one who is ready to speak and to be
spoken to,--as, for example, Milton's "affable archangel" Raphael;
though it must be confessed that he laid the chief emphasis on the
active side of his affability. A "clubable" person (to use a word
which Dr. Samuel Johnson invented but did not put into his
dictionary) is one who is fit for the familiar give and take of
club-life. A talkable person, therefore, is one whose nature and
disposition invite the easy interchange of thoughts and feelings,
one in whose company it is a pleasure to talk or to be talked to.
Now this good quality of talkability is to be distinguished, very
strictly and inflexibly, from the bad quality which imitates it and
often brings it into discredit. I mean the vice of talkativeness.
That is a selfish, one-sided, inharmonious affair, full of
discomfort, and productive of most unchristian feelings.
You may observe the operations of this vice not only in human
beings, but also in birds. All the birds in the bush can make some
kind of a noise; and most of them like to do it; and some of them
like it a great deal and do it very much. But it is not always for
edification, nor are the most vociferous and garrulous birds
commonly the most pleasing. A parrot, for instance, in your
neighbour's back yard, in the summer time, when the windows are
open, is not an aid to the development of Christian character. I
knew a man who had to stay in the city all summer, and in the autumn
was asked to describe the character and social standing of a new
family that had moved into his neighbourhood. Were they "nice
people," well-bred, intelligent, respectable? "Well," said he, "I
don't know what your standards are, and would prefer not to say
anything libellous; but I'll tell you in a word,--they are the kind
of people that keep a parrot."
Then there is the English Sparrow! What an insufferable chatterbox,
what an incurable scold, what a voluble and tiresome blackguard is
this little feathered cockney. There is not a sweet or pleasant
word in all his vocabulary.
I am convinced that he talks altogether of scandals and fights and
street-sweepings.
The kingdom of ornithology is divided into two departments,--real
birds and English sparrows. English sparrows are not real birds;
they are little beasts.
There was a church in Brooklyn which was once covered with a great
and spreading vine, in which the sparrows built innumerable nests.
These ungodly little birds kept up such a din that it was impossible
to hear the service of the sanctuary. The faithful clergy strained
their voices to the verge of ministerial sore throat, but the people
had no peace in their devotions until the vine was cut down, and the
Anglican intruders were evicted.
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