't I talk off a lecture with the
best of them, perhaps? Well, perhaps I could, and perhaps not, but if I
wouldn't try it on, I hoped I might be blessed--that--was all.

I thought proper, after having reached this conclusion, to calculate my
wealth in the way of preliminary requisites to success. By preliminary
requisites to success, I mean those which lead to the securing of
invitations to lecture. I flattered myself that all matters consequent
to this point in my career would very readily turn themselves to my
advantage. The preliminary requisites were as follows:--

1. _Notoriety_. I could boast of nothing in this line. I had no
reputation whatever. I had never written a line for publication.

When I had satisfied myself that I lacked this grand requisite, I turned
my attention to the subject again only to find that No. 1 was quite
alone in its glory. It was the Alpha and Omega of the preliminary
requisites. I should never be able to get a solitary invitation.

Here I was for a moment disheartened; but, persevering in my
newly-assumed part of literary philosopher, I proceeded to the
consideration of the consequent requisites:--

1. _Literary ability_. To say the truth, my literary abilities had
hitherto been kept in the background. I was glad they were now going to
come forward. For present purposes, it was sufficient that the Astor
Library was handy, and that I could string words together respectably.

2. _Oratorical ability_. As already indicated, I was conscious of no
mean alloy of the Demosthenic gold tempering the baser metal of my
general composition. My voice was deep and strong.

3. _Facial brass_. I felt brazen enough to set up a bell-foundery on my
personal curve. My cheeks were of that metalline description that never
knew a blush, before an audience of one or many.

4. _Personal appearance_. I consulted my mirror on that point. It showed
me a young man of only twenty-eight, and tall and shapely proportions; a
well-dressed young man, with light-colored hair, prominent nose, and
heavy red beard and moustache. I twisted the latter institution
undecidedly, and ventured the belief that by shaving myself clean and
bridging my nose with a pair of black-bowed spectacles I could pass
muster.

The result total was satisfactory. I resolved to disregard the
preliminary respecting invitations, and to make a modest effort of my
own to secure an audience, by going into the country, and advertising
myself in pro