y or the remonstrance of the
door-keepers; talks loud to be noticed; and having handed some woman of
fashion to her carriage, gets in after her without invitation, and, as
a matter of course, behaves rudely in return; makes a last call at the
club in his way home to learn the issue of the debate, and try his luck
at French hazard or fleecing a novice. (See Plate.)

[Illustration: page217]

If his fortune should be one thousand per annum, his income may be
extended to five, by virtue of credit and credulity. If he comes out
very early in life, say eighteen, he will scarcely expect to be visible
at twenty-four; but if he does not appear until he is twenty-one, and
then lives all his days, he may die fairly of old age, infirmity,
and insolvency, at twenty-six. His topographical knowledge of town
is bounded by the fashionable ~218~~directory, which limits his
recognition, on the north, by Oxford-street, on the east, by
Bond-street, on the south, by Pall Mall, and on the west, by Park-lane.
Ask him where is Russell Square, and he stares at you for a rustic;
inquire what authors he reads, and he answers Weatherbey and Rhodes; ask
what are their works, and he laughs outright at your ignorance of
the 'Racing Calendar,' 'Annals of Sporting,' 'Boxiana,' and 'Turf
Remembrancer;' question his knowledge of science, it consists in starch
_a la Brummel_{8}; of mathematics, in working problems on the cards; of
algebra, in calculating the long odds, or squaring the chances of the
dice; he tells you, his favourite book is his betting account, that John
Bull is the only newspaper worth reading, and that you must never expect
to be admitted into good society if the cut of your coat does not bear
outward proofs of its being fabricated either in Saint James's Street
or Bond Street; that the great requisites are _confidence, indifference,
and nonchalance_; as, for instance, George Wombwell being thrown out of
his tilbury on High gate Hill, when driving Captain Burdett, and both
being dreadfully bruised, George is picked

8 When Brummel fell into disgrace, he devised the starched
neckcloth, with the design of putting the prince's neck out
of fashion, and of bringing his Royal Highness's muslin, his
bow, and wadding, into contempt. When he first appeared in
this stiffened cravat, tradition says that the sensation in
St. James's-street was prodigious; dandies were struck dumb
with envy, and washerwomen misca