, 1875-01-31
lc, gold, painting sculpture, silk, aad lace. and
you have some shadowy idea Of the worlds great
play-housa


THACKE1AT, in dainty minor essay, once sug"
geated three new occupations for gentlemen in
search of the wherewithl to live. 1t was GER
tainly phianthropic' thing to do Women are
not the only parsons who must vail for wlden-
ing of their sphere. What is = man, well-bred,
theoretically educated, penniloss, to do in time
like this, when employers are either dlscharging
their surplus subordinates or keeping many OF
them out OF sheer charity? The unfortunate
will probably at first write savoral square yards
of prose or poetry, mail it to victinized editor,
and spend conts day for week thereafter
for the sake Of being sure that his etfusions
have been refused. Then he will apply for
place on the paper and suffer the fate Of tho
effusious aforesaid. II the theatres hap
pens to be open, he may pick up an
occasional quarter by forming one-tenth
of the tumultuous armies which deGle
ACROSS the stage, cheered by the muttered curses
Of the manager from behind the fats. II, in
despair, he finally takes place, proffered by
SONS chance, as . porter, he feels degraded, and
is disappointed at not having the senior partner
fall upon his neck. within week. in an agony
Of admiration over his method Of rolling barrels,
and cry, ~ Be ono Of the firm, noble young 1nan,
and marry my daughter" Instances have been
ment has managed to support himself for two
or three years by attending theological lectures.
Most Of our seminaries pay the budding" minister
Who pleads poverty round sum annually for
the pleasure Of his company. He can get room
free, and furniture free and board free. and fuel
free, and generous donations towards the cost Of
his clothes and cigars. It is question whether
it payR to make ministers paupers from
the date OF their studies, but this side issue.
II our work-wanting gentleman has too much
conscience to play theological student for q
consideration, and if oven the place OF q porter
is not to be got, what shall he do?
TuAcEERAr suggested, amons other things,
that he should bo aPurveyor,-that is. master
Of tho etiquette Of dinners, who should sell his
Taste to people anxious to climb q few steps on
the sociai ladder and afraid Of falling off the un-
accustomed rounds. The trohb]e with this is
that people must have certain degreo Of taste
in order to know that they lack taste. The
,.oupcau riche, after buying his house, his glar-
ing furniture, his servants, and his viands,
thinks he has everything needful. He proceeds
to feed people who rdicule him afterwards.
L French Baron, resldont.in Paris, las i'm
proved upon TuAcREnAY's idea. He announces
himself as teacher Of the art OF conversation.
His pupils can win honor, not only at dinner
party OF q ball, but in q whispered tete-a-tete.
They will scorn commonplace and plstitude
Their talk will be series OF sparkling bo1a-n.ots
OF incisive sabre-cuts OF logic Baron Il. will
not only instruct members Of his classes for the
tri1ins sum Of FL per month, but he will allow
them to invite him to dinner at their homes
His charge for attending dinner is 20 francs.
-Four dollars is not an e1orbitant price for
guarantee Of entertaining talk during the
tiresome hours Of 3 ceremonious meal If
the Baron remains through the evening, his
charge is OF course greater. He will, moreover,
il properly paid therefor, introduce guests,
chosen from the graduates of his school, who
will shine Like stars in the talk OF which he is
himself the sun.
This now profession is open to the public It
has money in it. II sedulous1y cultivated. it
would be OF incalculable benefit. Society might
become set OF conversers instead Of dancers.
When dinner-party WAS given, the inevitable
stupid people could be sandwiched between
trained takers from the school The prudent
hostess would order her dinner and be. copTazsa-
tiop with equal ease.