ificent speculation, he then,
at once, loses his distinctive features, and becomes what we term
"financier." This latter word conveys the diddling idea in every respect
except that of magnitude. A diddler may thus be regarded as a banker in
petto--a "financial operation," as a diddle at Brobdignag. The one is to
the other, as Homer to "Flaccus"--as a Mastodon to a mouse--as the tail
of a comet to that of a pig.

Interest:--Your diddler is guided by self-interest. He scorns to
diddle for the mere sake of the diddle. He has an object in view--his
pocket--and yours. He regards always the main chance. He looks to Number
One. You are Number Two, and must look to yourself.

Perseverance:--Your diddler perseveres. He is not readily discouraged.
Should even the banks break, he cares nothing about it. He steadily
pursues his end, and 'Ut canis a corio nunquam absterrebitur uncto,'
so he never lets go of his game.

Ingenuity:--Your diddler is ingenious. He has constructiveness large. He
understands plot. He invents and circumvents. Were he not Alexander he
would be Diogenes. Were he not a diddler, he would be a maker of patent
rat-traps or an angler for trout.

Audacity:--Your diddler is audacious.--He is a bold man. He carries
the war into Africa. He conquers all by assault. He would not fear the
daggers of Frey Herren. With a little more prudence Dick Turpin would
have made a good diddler; with a trifle less blarney, Daniel O'Connell;
with a pound or two more brains Charles the Twelfth.

Nonchalance:--Your diddler is nonchalant. He is not at all nervous. He
never had any nerves. He is never seduced into a flurry. He is never
put out--unless put out of doors. He is cool--cool as a cucumber. He
is calm--"calm as a smile from Lady Bury." He is easy--easy as an old
glove, or the damsels of ancient Baiae.

Originality:--Your diddler is original--conscientiously so. His thoughts
are his own. He would scorn to employ those of another. A stale trick is
his aversion. He would return a purse, I am sure, upon discovering that
he had obtained it by an unoriginal diddle.

Impertinence.--Your diddler is impertinent. He swaggers. He sets his
arms a-kimbo. He thrusts his hands in his trowsers' pockets. He sneers
in your face. He treads on your corns. He eats your dinner, he drinks
your wine, he borrows your money, he pulls your nose, he kicks your
poodle, and he kisses your wife.

Grin:--Your true diddler winds up all with a grin. But