Smyrna times., 1873-11-26
.MISceIIN IL e D u S.
The American Gentleman Of Leisure


anxiety and restless pain and bewilderment,
but one who had given up the search for
master in despair, and had become consciously
a vagabond2 If so, he has seen an animal !
that has lost his sef-respect, travelling in the
cutters, Sinking along by fences, making ac-
quantance with dirty boys, becoming thorough |
coward, and losing every admirable character
istic of dog. A cat is cat even in vagabond |
age but dog that does not belong to some |
body is as hopeless a specimen OF demorallza- |
ton as can be found in the superior race among |
which he has sought in vain for his master. |
We know him at first sight, and he knows that
we know him. The loss of his place in the
world, and the loss of his objects Of loyalty,
personal and official, have taken the signif
canoe out of his life and the spirit out of him.
He has become dog of leisure.
| We do not know how it may be IN trans
Atlantic countries. 1t is quite possible that
in Constantinople, where dogs are plenty and
masters comparatively scarce, the canine vaga-
bonds keep each other in countenance. There
is sort Of selfrespect among human thieves,
| if only enough of them get together. Where
teggars are plenty, there are sometimes gen.
Grated sort of professional ambition and
semblance, at least, of professional pride and
honor. Liquor-dealers form society, publish
a newspaper, call themselves "Wine Mer-
chants" and make themselves believe that
they are respectable. Stock. gamblers in Wall
street, by sheer force of numbers in combina-
tion make business semi-respectable which
never added dollar of wealth to the country
and never will, and which constantly places
the business interests of the country in jeo-
pardy. So it is possible that in Constantinople
lost dogs maintain their selfrespect, by COM
munity of feeling and consciousness that they
are neither exceptional nor eccentric. A dog s
sense of vagabOndage would seem, therefore,
to depend much upon his atmosphere and cir
cumstances. In New York he loses himself
with his home in Constantinople he joins a
community.
The American man of leisure is sort of
lost dog. The people are SO busy, they have
a SO long associated personal importance with
I. action and usefulness, that it is all man S
. life is worth to drop out of active employment.
! If Vanderbilt should quietly release his hold
of the vast railroad interests now in his hands,
l. and should never more show his face in Wall
street, he would practically shrink to a nonen-
tity. If Stewars should retire to enjoy bis
piled up millions in the quiet repose of his
il palace, he would cease to be an objet of inter
!. est to anybody. 1t is undeniably true that
y there is nobody in America who has SO hard a
y time as the man of leisure. The man who
= has nothing to do, and nobody to help him dc
e nothing, may properly be counted among the
Do unfortunate classes, without regard to the
'r amount Of wealth he possesses. Thisis, doubt
:. less, the reason why so many who retire from
- life of profitable labor come back, after
"a few months or years, to their old haunts anC
or old pursuits. They see that the moment thel
p. count themselves out of active life, they ar
counted by their old acquaintances out of th
world. They become mere loafers and hangers
on; and certain sense of vagabondage de
presses them. The climate is stimulating
g. time hangs heavy on their hands, business
exciting, business associations are congenia
and attractive; and so they go back to thei
10 industries, never to leave them again till sick
"a "A ness or death or old age removes them from tn
Ia theater of their efforts
Ie. In Europe we know that the case is widel
different. The number of men who live upo
their estates,-estates either won by trade q
II inherited from rich ancestors. very large
" while those who have small, fixed incomes
which they never undertake TO increase, is la
ne ger still The Englishman of leisure who car
lse not live at home on his income goes to th
'et Continent, and seeks place where his limite
ne number of pounds per dnnunl will give hi
n, M gentsel lodgings, with life of idle leisur
In such place he finds others in plenty WI
!. are as idle as he, and who have come there Il
the same reason that brings him. He finds
m' quite. respectable to do nothing, and know
that his command of the means that give hi
. - leisure is the subject of envy on the part
a. the inhabitants He eats, sleeps, reads, visit
urs writes letters, and kills time without any 10
its of self respect, and without feeling the Sigh
at est attraction for buster life. Indeed, Il
90: 90: tIadesmen who are active around him are loo
oss ed down upon as social interiors, on account
the fact that they are under the necessity
|. work. Work is not q genteel thing to do, u
less it be done in an Office or profession. Sho
keeping and labor Of the hands are account
-' vulgar.
1t seems impossible to conclude that {
man of leisure can ever hold desirable DO
ton where labor holds its legitimate positic
Wo wish the American could have more leisu
nds than he has. 1t would, in many respects,
well for society that men who have proper
enough, and ten times more than enoul
should retire from active life to make place
others rather than go on accumulatiRg gigan
!, fortunes which become curses TO their own
aud the community. After ell, if idleness
sion only be made respectable and desirable
, '"- making labor vulgar, we trust that the Anne
can gentleman of leisure will be as rare in
future as he has been in the past.
We are glad, on the whole, that ev
and American deems it essential to belong to sor
erv, body, to belong to something, to sustain so
active relation to some industry, or enterpri
or charity, to be counted in at some pc
among the useful forces Of society. He is
ID. better and the happier for il, and be helps
sustain the honor and self-respect of ell th
with whom labor is O constant necessity.
Del. j. G. Holland, ScTibners for December.
~~~~ -
srKa The unressrved idolatry with which Shal
pears has been praised, has sometimes I
duced reaction, even in English literat,
DR.. johnson always refused to regard Shal
peare as beyond or above criticism. All
early commentators were moderate in Il
,R praise 80 it will be remembered was Volta
lAAs Our modern critics, both English and Germ
have adopted the opposite tone of unboun
eulogy: Now comes German protest. n
erick Bensdix, the dramatists lately dead,
left n Ms. against I" Shakespearomania."
A rates the Rara Of Avon snmaw hat lower 4