ll" is one of epicurean
invitation, not of dismissal; while such are the combined luxuriousness
and economy that, says one authority, "the modern London club is a
realization of a Utopian coenobium,--a sort of lay convent, rivalling
the celebrated Abbey of Theleme, with the agreeable motto of _Fais ce
que voudras_, instead of monastic discipline."

Of course, New York also has followed suit, and there, too, clubs are
trumps; but, according to "The Nation," with this remarkable exception,
that "at these houses the leading idea seems to be, not to furnish the
members at cost price, but to increase the finances with a view to some
future expenditure." The writer reasonably observes, that "what a man
wants is his breakfast or dinner cheaper than he can get it at the
hotel, and not to pay thirty or sixty dollars annually in order that ten
years hence the club may have a new building farther up town." And
Boston has followed New York, with its trio of well-known clubs,
differing also from those of London in having poorer appointments and
the highest conceivable charges.

But most of these clubs do not include lodgings, and none of them
include ladies. It remains for America to give us the club complete in
both. There is every reason why women should secure elegant and
economical homes in this way. Indeed, in the present state of things,
there seems no other way to secure them. There is no remedy but in a
system of judicious clubbing. Since this phase of the world seems made
up for the family relation, then ladies must make themselves into a sort
of family to face it. Where is the coming man who shall communicate this
art of clubbing, which has not yet even been admitted into the feminine
dialect? Mr. Mercer is doing for the women who wish to go out in the
world that which womanly gratitude can but lightly repay.[F] Where is
the kindly, honest-hearted Mr. Mercer who shall further a like
enterprise here,--a provision of quarters for those who can pay
reasonably and who do not wish to go away? This would be a genuine
Stay-at-home Club, a Can't-get-away Club of the very happiest sort. And
this alone can put life in our noble cities, where active-brained women
love to be, on something like possible terms.

In Miss Howitt's "Art Student at Munich,"--a charming sketch, by the
way, of women living _en bachelier_ abroad,--we find one young
enthusiast idealizing upon this very need of feminine life, which she
christens an Associated