THE PROFESSOR AT THE DINNER-TABLE.

Professor Mahaffy's book on The Art of Conversation, seems witty, and (in parts) wise. People who want to learn to talk well in society had better consult the genial Professor, who declares that the art can be acquired. In fact he hands to each of his readers, across the visionary "walnuts and the wine," the pinch of Attic Salt which seasons dinner-parties. The theory must, of course, be taken cum grano. A few hints (strangely omitted in Mahaffy's "Haffy Thoughts,") are here appended:—

Should you happen to be in company with a number of eminent Statesmen belonging to one Party (say, at a dinner, when they can't get away from you,) mind and point out in a loud voice what you conceive to have been the chief errors of policy which they committed in their last Ministry, and what would have been your line in their place. If they are smarting under recent defeat, and have just been turned out of Office, they will be sure to thank you heartily for your kind advice.

Supposing politicians of every shade of opinion to be present, your best course will be to at once introduce some "burning" subject of the day—say, Home Rule, or the personal character of Mr. Gladstone or Lord Salisbury. Your host will be delighted, and you will be surprised to find what a brisk conversation you have initiated.

Always talk "shop." It gives local colour to your style. For instance, if you are a lawyer, and you see another legal gentleman at table, engage him in a conversation as to "that curious Equity point in the case of The Queen v. the Executors of Muggins, deceased, before the V.-C." Make your comments as technical as possible. If you don't soon "get the table in a roar," it will be astonishing. By the way, there are two kinds of "roar."

Avoid the least appearance of shyness. This is a pushing age. If you are really bashful by nature, assume a haughty and forbidding demeanour to cover it. This will make you universally liked.

Spice your talk with jokes. Invent at least six good puns for use at any dinner to which you may be invited, and bring them out,—naturally, if you can, but at any rate bring them out! E.g. If you are in Dublin, in a company consisting of fervid Nationalists, who bitterly resent the imprisonment of their Chief Magistrate, remark jocosely that "you hope his Lordship is not suffering much from mal de Mayor!" Conversely, when present at a dinner of Loyalists, refer to the eminent Liberal-Unionist Leader as "Half-Hartington." In either case your host is sure to ask you to come again.

Monopolise the conversation. Carlyle did this, and so did Macaulay, so why shouldn't you? You may be a Macaulay without knowing the fact.

Remember that people like anecdotes. This is how Hayward got his reputation. Don't hesitate because somebody has said that "all the good stories have been told." If so, tell them again without flinching.