with those scored at whist; and to predict the first horse at Ascot
would be a far higher step in the intellectual scale than to prophesy
the appearance of a comet or an eclipse; the leader in the House can
only divide public applause with the winner of the Leger, and even the
versatile gyrations of Lord Brougham himself must yield to the more
fascinating pirouettes of Fanny Ellsler. Young men leave Eton and
Sandhurst now with more tact and worldly wit than their fathers had at
forty, or than their grandfathers ever possessed.

Short as Sir Harry Wycherley's absence had been, the march of mind had
done much in all these respects. The babes and sucklings of fashion
were more than his equals in craft and subtlety; none like _them_ to
ascertain what was wrong with the favourite, or why 'the mare' would not
start; few could compete with them in those difficult walks of finance
which consist in obtaining credit from coach-makers, and cash from Jews.
In fact, to that generation who spent profusely to live luxuriously had
succeeded a race who reversed the position, and lived extravagantly
in order to have the means of spending. Wiser than their fathers, they
substituted paper for cash payments, and saw no necessity to cry 'stop'
while there was a stamp in England.

It was a sad thing for one who believed his education finished to become
a schoolboy once more, but there was nothing else for it. Sir Harry had
to begin at the bottom of the class; he was an apt scholar it is true,
but before he had completed his studies he was ruined. High play and
high interest, Jews and jockeys, dinners and danseuses, with large
retinues of servants, will help a man considerably to get rid of his
spare cash; and however he may--which in most cases he must--acquire
some wisdom _en route_, his road is not less certain to lead to ruin.
In two years from the time of his return, another paragraph and another
auction proclaimed that 'Wycherley was cleaned out,' and that he had
made his 'positively last appearance' in England.

The Continent was now to be his home for life. He had lost his 'means,'
but he had learned 'ways' of living, and from pigeon he became rook.

There is a class, possibly the most dangerous that exists, of men, who
without having gone so far as to forfeit pretension to the society and
acquaintance of gentleman, have yet involved their name and reputation
in circumstances which are more than suspicious. Living expensively,
with