ions,
and intellectual poverty, this class is greatly on the increase, it
has been thought necessary that this Act should be framed to control
their vicious habits:

May it, therefore, please your Majesty, that it be enacted: AND BE IT
ENACTED henceforth, that all Gents, not actually in the employ of the
_Morning Post_, or Mr. Simpson, of the "Albion," be prevented from
wearing white cravats at parties, the same being evidently an attempt
of sixth-rate individuals to ape the manners of first-class circles.
And that no Gent, who does not actually keep a horse, and is not in
the Army, be allowed to strut up and down the Burlington Arcade, with
a whip and moustachios, such imposition being exceedingly offensive,
and amounting to a passive swindling of the spectators.

AND BE IT ENACTED, that all such things as light-blue stocks, large
figured shawls, cheap primrose gloves, white Chesterfield coal sacks,
half-guinea Albert boots; in fact, all those articles ticketed in the
shop windows as "Gent's last style," be considered the distinctive
marks of the class, and condemned accordingly. And that every
individual, moreover, smoking outside an omnibus, sticking large pins
in his cravat, wearing fierce studs in his shirt, walking with others
four abreast in Regent Street, reading slang publications, and
adopting their language, playing billiards in public rooms, sporting
dingy white gloves in the slips of the theatres, frequenting night
taverns, and being on terms of familiarity with the singers and
waiters, thinking great things of champagne, as if everything at a
party depended upon it; and, especially, wearing the hat on one side,
be the signs of most unmitigated Gents, and shunned equally with
hydrophobia.

AND BE IT FURTHER ENACTED that no Gent be, in future, allowed to
cross a hired horse with a view to ten shillings worth of Sunday
display in the Parks, the turnout being always detected; nor shall be
permitted to drive a gig, in a fierce scarf, under similar
circumstances. Nor shall any Gent imagine that an acquaintance with
all the questionable resorts of London is "knowing life"; or that
trousers of large check pattern are anything but exceeding Gentish.

SAVING ALWAYS that the Gents have not the sense to endeavour
bettering their condition, which is exceedingly probable; u