_The blue bore disguised, or the renegade blue_. These may be detected by their extraordinary fear of being taken for _blues_. Hold up the picture, or even the sign of a blue bore before them, and they immediately write under it, “‘Tis none of me.” They spend their lives hiding their talent under a bushel; all the time in a desperate fright lest you should see it. A poor simple man does not know what to do about it, or what to say or think in their company, so as to behave himself rightly, and not to affront them. Solomon himself would be put to it, to make some of these authoresses unknown, avow or give up their own progeny. Their affectation is beyond the affectation of woman, and it makes all men sick. Others without affectation are only arrant cowards. They are afraid to stand exposed on their painful pre-eminence. Some from pure good-nature make themselves ridiculous; imagining that they are nine feet high at the least, shrink and distort themselves continually in condescension to our inferiority; or lest we should be blasted with excess of light, come into company shading their farthing candle--burning blue, pale, and faint. It should be noticed that the _bore condescending_ is peculiarly obnoxious to the proud man. Besides the _bore condescending_, who, whether good-natured or ill-natured, is a most provoking animal--there is the bore _facetious_, an insufferable creature, always laughing, but with whom you can never laugh. And there is another exotic variety--the _vive la bagatelle bore_ of the ape kind--who imitate men of genius. Having early been taught that there is nothing more delightful than the unbending of a great mind, they set about continually to unbend the bow in company. Of the spring and fall, the ebb and tide of genius, we have heard much from Milton, Dryden, and others. At ebb time--a time which must come to all, pretty or rich, treasures are discovered upon some shores; or golden sands are seen when the waters run low. In others bare rocks, slime, or reptiles. May I never be at low tide with a bore! Despising the Bagatelle, there is the serious regular conversation bore, who listens to himself, talks from notes, and is witty by rule. All rules for conversation were no doubt invented by bores, and if followed would make all men and women bores, either in straining to be witty, or striving to be easy. There is no more certain method, even for him who may possess the talent in the highest degree, to lose the power of conversing, than by talking to support his character. One eye to your reputation, one on the company, would never do, were it with the best of eyes. Few people are of Descartes’ mind, that squinting is pretty. It has been said, that pleasure never comes, if you send her a formal card of invitation; to a _conversazione_ certainly never; whatever she might to a dinner-party. Ease cannot stay, wit flies away, and humour grows dull, if people try for them.