Sketches of Young Gentlemen...........................................................................................................................1

We found ourself seated at a small dinner party the other day, opposite a stranger of such singular appearance

This was a freshcoloured young gentleman, with as good a promise of light whisker as one might wish to

see, and possessed of a very velvetlike, softlooking countenance. We do not use the latter term invidiously,

but merely to denote a pair of smooth, plump, highlycoloured cheeks of capacious dimensions, and a mouth

rather remarkable for the fresh hue of the lips than for any marked or striking expression it presented. His

whole face was suffused with a crimson blush, and bore that downcast, timid, retiring look, which betokens a

There was nothing in these symptoms to attract more than a passing remark, but our attention had been

originally drawn to the bashful young gentleman, on his first appearance in the drawingroom above stairs,

into which he was no sooner introduced, than making his way towards us who were standing in a window,

and wholly neglecting several persons who warmly accosted him, he seized our hand with visible emotion,

and pressed it with a convulsive grasp for a good couple of minutes, after which he dived in a nervous

manner across the room, oversetting in his way a fine little girl of six years and a quarter old and shrouding

himself behind some hangings, was seen no more, until the eagle eye of the hostess detecting him in his

concealment, on the announcement of dinner, he was requested to pair off with a lively single lady, of two or

This most flattering salutation from a perfect stranger, would have gratified us not a little as a token of his

having held us in high respect, and for that reason been desirous of our acquaintance, if we had not suspected

from the first, that the young gentleman, in making a desperate effort to get through the ceremony of

introduction, had, in the bewilderment of his ideas, shaken hands with us at random. This impression was

fully confirmed by the subsequent behaviour of the bashful young gentleman in question, which we noted

particularly, with the view of ascertaining whether we were right in our conjecture.

The young gentleman seated himself at table with evident misgivings, and turning sharp round to pay

attention to some observation of his loquacious neighbour, overset his bread. There was nothing very bad in

this, and if he had had the presence of mind to let it go, and say nothing about it, nobody but the man who

had laid the cloth would have been a bit the wiser; but the young gentleman in various semisuccessful

attempts to prevent its fall, played with it a little, as gentlemen in the streets may be seen to do with their hats

on a windy day, and then giving the roll a smart rap in his anxiety to catch it, knocked it with great adroitness

into a tureen of white soup at some distance, to the unspeakable terror and disturbance of a very amiable bald

gentleman, who was dispensing the contents. We thought the bashful young gentleman would have gone off

in an apoplectic fit, consequent upon the violent rush of blood to his face at the occurrence of this

From this moment we perceived, in the phraseology of the fancy, that it was 'all up' with the bashful young

gentleman, and so indeed it was. Several benevolent persons endeavoured to relieve his embarrassment by

taking wine with him, but finding that it only augmented his sufferings, and that after mingling sherry,

champagne, hock, and moselle together, he applied the greater part of the mixture externally, instead of

internally, they gradually dropped off, and left him to the exclusive care of the talkative lady, who, not noting

the wildness of his eye, firmly believed she had secured a listener. He broke a glass or two in the course of

the meal, and disappeared shortly afterwards; it is inferred that he went away in some confusion, inasmuch as

This little incident led us to reflect upon the most prominent characteristics of bashful young gentlemen in the

abstract; and as this portable volume will be the great textbook of young ladies in all future generations, we

If the bashful young gentleman, in turning a street corner, chance to stumble suddenly upon two or three

young ladies of his acquaintance, nothing can exceed his confusion and agitation. His first impulse is to make

a great variety of bows, and dart past them, which he does until, observing that they wish to stop, but are

uncertain whether to do so or not, he makes several feints of returning, which causes them to do the same;

and at length, after a great quantity of unnecessary dodging and falling up against the other passengers, he

returns and shakes hands most affectionately with all of them, in doing which he knocks out of their grasp

sundry little parcels, which he hastily picks up, and returns very muddy and disordered. The chances are that

the bashful young gentleman then observes it is very fine weather, and being reminded that it has only just

left off raining for the first time these three days, he blushes very much, and smiles as if he had said a very

good thing. The young lady who was most anxious to speak, here inquires, with an air of great

commiseration, how his dear sister Harriet is today; to which the young gentleman, without the slightest

consideration, replies with many thanks, that she is remarkably well. 'Well, Mr. Hopkins!' cries the young

lady, 'why, we heard she was bled yesterday evening, and have been perfectly miserable about her.' 'Oh, ah,'

says the young gentleman, 'so she was. Oh, she's very ill, very ill indeed.' The young gentleman then shakes

his head, and looks very desponding (he has been smiling perpetually up to this time), and after a short pause,

gives his glove a great wrench at the wrist, and says, with a strong emphasis on the adjective, 'GOOD

morning, GOOD morning.' And making a great number of bows in acknowledgment of several little

messages to his sister, walks backward a few paces, and comes with great violence against a lamppost,

knocking his hat off in the contact, which in his mental confusion and bodily pain he is going to walk away

without, until a great roar from a carter attracts his attention, when he picks it up, and tries to smile cheerfully

to the young ladies, who are looking back, and who, he has the satisfaction of seeing, are all laughing

At a quadrille party, the bashful young gentleman always remains as near the entrance of the room as

possible, from which position he smiles at the people he knows as they come in, and sometimes steps forward

to shake hands with more intimate friends: a process which on each repetition seems to turn him a deeper

scarlet than before. He declines dancing the first set or two, observing, in a faint voice, that he would rather

wait a little; but at length is absolutely compelled to allow himself to be introduced to a partner, when he is

led, in a great heat and blushing furiously, across the room to a spot where halfadozen unknown ladies are

'Miss Lambert, let me introduce Mr. Hopkins for the next quadrille.' Miss Lambert inclines her head

graciously. Mr. Hopkins bows, and his fair conductress disappears, leaving Mr. Hopkins, as he too well

knows, to make himself agreeable. The young lady more than half expects that the bashful young gentleman

will say something, and the bashful young gentleman feeling this, seriously thinks whether he has got

anything to say, which, upon mature reflection, he is rather disposed to conclude he has not, since nothing

occurs to him. Meanwhile, the young lady, after several inspections of her BOUQUET, all made in the

expectation that the bashful young gentleman is going to talk, whispers her mamma, who is sitting next her,

which whisper the bashful young gentleman immediately suspects (and possibly with very good reason) must

be about HIM. In this comfortable condition he remains until it is time to 'stand up,' when murmuring a 'Will

you allow me?' he gives the young lady his arm, and after inquiring where she will stand, and receiving a

reply that she has no choice, conducts her to the remotest corner of the quadrille, and making one attempt at

conversation, which turns out a desperate failure, preserves a profound silence until it is all over, when he

walks her twice round the room, deposits her in her old seat, and retires in confusion.

A married bashful gentleman for these bashful gentlemen do get married sometimes; how it is ever brought

about, is a mystery to us a married bashful gentleman either causes his wife to appear bold by contrast, or

merges her proper importance in his own insignificance. Bashful young gentlemen should be cured, or

avoided. They are never hopeless, and never will be, while female beauty and attractions retain their

influence, as any young lady will find, who may think it worth while on this confident assurance to take a

Outandout young gentlemen may be divided into two classes those who have something to do, and those

who have nothing. I shall commence with the former, because that species come more frequently under the

The outandout young gentleman is usually no great dresser, his instructions to his tailor being all

comprehended in the one general direction to 'make that what'saname a regular bangup sort of thing.' For

some years past, the favourite costume of the outandout young gentleman has been a rough pilot coat, with

two gilt hooks and eyes to the velvet collar; buttons somewhat larger than crownpieces; a black or fancy

neckerchief, loosely tied; a widebrimmed hat, with a low crown; tightish inexpressibles, and ironshod

boots. Out of doors he sometimes carries a large ash stick, but only on special occasions, for he prefers

keeping his hands in his coat pockets. He smokes at all hours, of course, and swears considerably.

The outandout young gentleman is employed in a city counting house or solicitor's office, in which he

does as little as he possibly can: his chief places of resort are, the streets, the taverns, and the theatres. In the

streets at evening time, out andout young gentlemen have a pleasant custom of walking six or eight

abreast, thus driving females and other inoffensive persons into the road, which never fails to afford them the

highest satisfaction, especially if there be any immediate danger of their being run over, which enhances the

fun of the thing materially. In all places of public resort, the outandouters are careful to select each a seat

to himself, upon which he lies at full length, and (if the weather be very dirty, but not in any other case) he

lies with his knees up, and the soles of his boots planted firmly on the cushion, so that if any low fellow

should ask him to make room for a lady, he takes ample revenge upon her dress, without going at all out of

his way to do it. He always sits with his hat on, and flourishes his stick in the air while the play is proceeding,

with a dignified contempt of the performance; if it be possible for one or two outandout young gentlemen

to get up a little crowding in the passages, they are quite in their element, squeezing, pushing, whooping, and

shouting in the most humorous manner possible. If they can only succeed in irritating the gentleman who has

a family of daughters under his charge, they are like to die with laughing, and boast of it among their

companions for a week afterwards, adding, that one or two of them were 'devilish fine girls,' and that they

really thought the youngest would have fainted, which was the only thing wanted to render the joke complete.

If the outandout young gentleman have a mother and sisters, of course he treats them with becoming

contempt, inasmuch as they (poor things!) having no notion of life or gaiety, are far too weakspirited and

moping for him. Sometimes, however, on a birth day or at Christmastime, he cannot very well help

accompanying them to a party at some old friend's, with which view he comes home when they have been

dressed an hour or two, smelling very strongly of tobacco and spirits, and after exchanging his rough coat for

some more suitable attire (in which however he loses nothing of the outandouter), gets into the coach and

grumbles all the way at his own good nature: his bitter reflections aggravated by the recollection, that Tom

Smith has taken the chair at a little impromptu dinner at a fighting man's, and that a setto was to take place

on a diningtable, between the fighting man and his brother inlaw, which is probably 'coming off' at that

As the outandout young gentleman is by no means at his ease in ladies' society, he shrinks into a corner of

the drawingroom when they reach the friend's, and unless one of his sisters is kind enough to talk to him,

remains there without being much troubled by the attentions of other people, until he espies, lingering outside

the door, another gentleman, whom he at once knows, by his air and manner (for there is a kind of

freemasonry in the craft), to be a brother outandouter, and towards whom he accordingly makes his way.

Conversation being soon opened by some casual remark, the second outandouter confidentially informs

the first, that he is one of the rough sort and hates that kind of thing, only he couldn't very well be off coming;

to which the other replies, that that's just his case 'and I'll tell you what,' continues the out andouter in a

whisper, 'I should like a glass of warm brandy and water just now,' 'Or a pint of stout and a pipe,' suggests

The discovery is at once made that they are sympathetic souls; each of them says at the same moment, that he

sees the other understands what's what: and they become fast friends at once, more especially when it

appears, that the second outandouter is no other than a gentleman, long favourably known to his familiars

as 'Mr. Warmint Blake,' who upon divers occasions has distinguished himself in a manner that would not

have disgraced the fighting man, and who having been a pretty long time about town had the honour of

At supper, these gentlemen greatly distinguish themselves, brightening up very much when the ladies leave

the table, and proclaiming aloud their intention of beginning to spend the evening a process which is

generally understood to be satisfactorily performed, when a great deal of wine is drunk and a great deal of

noise made, both of which feats the outandout young gentlemen execute to perfection. Having protracted

their sitting until long after the host and the other guests have adjourned to the drawing room, and finding

that they have drained the decanters empty, they follow them thither with complexions rather heightened, and

faces rather bloated with wine; and the agitated lady of the house whispers her friends as they waltz together,

to the great terror of the whole room, that 'both Mr. Blake and Mr. Dummins are very nice sort of young men

in their way, only they are eccentric persons, and unfortunately RATHER TOO WILD!'

The remaining class of outandout young gentlemen is composed of persons, who, having no money of

their own and a soul above earning any, enjoy similar pleasures, nobody knows how. These respectable

gentlemen, without aiming quite so much at the outandout in external appearance, are distinguished by all

the same amiable and attractive characteristics, in an equal or perhaps greater degree, and now and then find

their way into society, through the medium of the other class of outandout young gentlemen, who will

sometimes carry them home, and who usually pay their tavern bills. As they are equally gentlemanly, clever,

witty, intelligent, wise, and wellbred, we need scarcely have recommended them to the peculiar

consideration of the young ladies, if it were not that some of the gentle creatures whom we hold in such high

respect, are perhaps a little too apt to confound a great many heavier terms with the light word eccentricity,

which we beg them henceforth to take in a strictly Johnsonian sense, without any liberality or latitude of

We know and all people know so many specimens of this class, that in selecting the few heads our limits

enable us to take from a great number, we have been induced to give the very friendly young gentleman the

preference over many others, to whose claims upon a more cursory view of the question we had felt disposed

The very friendly young gentleman is very friendly to everybody, but he attaches himself particularly to two,

or at most to three families: regulating his choice by their dinners, their circle of acquaintance, or some other

criterion in which he has an immediate interest. He is of any age between twenty and forty, unmarried of

course, must be fond of children, and is expected to make himself generally useful if possible. Let us

illustrate our meaning by an example, which is the shortest mode and the clearest.

We encountered one day, by chance, an old friend of whom we had lost sight for some years, and who

expressing a strong anxiety to renew our former intimacy urged us to dine with him on an early day, that

we might talk over old times. We readily assented, adding, that we hoped we should be alone. 'Oh, certainly,

certainly,' said our friend, 'not a soul with us but Mincin.' 'And who is Mincin?' was our natural inquiry. 'O

don't mind him,' replied our friend, 'he's a most particular friend of mine, and a very friendly fellow you will

'We thought no more about Mincin until we duly presented ourselves at the house next day, when, after a

hearty welcome, our friend motioned towards a gentleman who had been previously showing his teeth by the

fireplace, and gave us to understand that it was Mr. Mincin, of whom he had spoken. It required no great

penetration on our part to discover at once that Mr. Mincin was in every respect a very friendly young

'I am delighted,' said Mincin, hastily advancing, and pressing our hand warmly between both of his, 'I am

delighted, I am sure, to make your acquaintance (here he smiled) very much delighted indeed (here he

exhibited a little emotion) I assure you that I have looked forward to it anxiously for a very long time:' here

he released our hands, and rubbing his own, observed, that the day was severe, but that he was delighted to

perceive from our appearance that it agreed with us wonderfully; and then went on to observe, that,

notwithstanding the coldness of the weather, he had that morning seen in the paper an exceedingly curious

paragraph, to the effect, that there was now in the garden of Mr. Wilkins of Chichester, a pumpkin, measuring

four feet in height, and eleven feet seven inches in circumference, which he looked upon as a very

extraordinary piece of intelligence. We ventured to remark, that we had a dim recollection of having once or

twice before observed a similar paragraph in the public prints, upon which Mr. Mincin took us confidentially

by the button, and said, Exactly, exactly, to be sure, we were very right, and he wondered what the editors

meant by putting in such things. Who the deuce, he should like to know, did they suppose cared about them?

The lady of the house appeared shortly afterwards, and Mr. Mincin's friendliness, as will readily be supposed,

suffered no diminution in consequence; he exerted much strength and skill in wheeling a large easychair up

to the fire, and the lady being seated in it, carefully closed the door, stirred the fire, and looked to the

windows to see that they admitted no air; having satisfied himself upon all these points, he expressed himself

quite easy in his mind, and begged to know how she found herself today. Upon the lady's replying very

well, Mr. Mincin (who it appeared was a medical gentleman) offered some general remarks upon the nature

and treatment of colds in the head, which occupied us agreeably until dinnertime. During the meal, he

devoted himself to complimenting everybody, not forgetting himself, so that we were an uncommonly

'I'll tell you what, Capper,' said Mr. Mincin to our host, as he closed the room door after the lady had retired,

'you have very great reason to be fond of your wife. Sweet woman, Mrs. Capper, sir!' 'Nay, Mincin I beg,'

interposed the host, as we were about to reply that Mrs. Capper unquestionably was particularly sweet. 'Pray,

Mincin, don't.' 'Why not?' exclaimed Mr. Mincin, 'why not? Why should you feel any delicacy before your

old friend OUR old friend, if I may be allowed to call you so, sir; why should you, I ask?' We of course

wished to know why he should also, upon which our friend admitted that Mrs. Capper WAS a very sweet

woman, at which admission Mr. Mincin cried 'Bravo!' and begged to propose Mrs. Capper with heartfelt

enthusiasm, whereupon our host said, 'Thank you, Mincin,' with deep feeling; and gave us, in a low voice, to

understand, that Mincin had saved Mrs. Capper's cousin's life no less than fourteen times in a year and a half,

which he considered no common circumstance an opinion to which we most cordially subscribed.

Now that we three were left to entertain ourselves with conversation, Mr. Mincin's extreme friendliness

became every moment more apparent; he was so amazingly friendly, indeed, that it was impossible to talk

about anything in which he had not the chief concern. We happened to allude to some affairs in which our

friend and we had been mutually engaged nearly fourteen years before, when Mr. Mincin was all at once

reminded of a joke which our friend had made on that day four years, which he positively must insist upon

telling and which he did tell accordingly, with many pleasant recollections of what he said, and what Mrs.

Capper said, and how he well remembered that they had been to the play with orders on the very night

previous, and had seen Romeo and Juliet, and the pantomime, and how Mrs. Capper being faint had been led

into the lobby, where she smiled, said it was nothing after all, and went back again, with many other

interesting and absorbing particulars: after which the friendly young gentleman went on to assure us, that our

friend had experienced a marvellously prophetic opinion of that same pantomime, which was of such an

admirable kind, that two morning papers took the same view next day: to this our friend replied, with a little

triumph, that in that instance he had some reason to think he had been correct, which gave the friendly young

gentleman occasion to believe that our friend was always correct; and so we went on, until our friend, filling

a bumper, said he must drink one glass to his dear friend Mincin, than whom he would say no man saved the

lives of his acquaintances more, or had a more friendly heart. Finally, our friend having emptied his glass,

said, 'God bless you, Mincin,' and Mr. Mincin and he shook hands across the table with much affection and

But great as the friendly young gentleman is, in a limited scene like this, he plays the same part on a larger

scale with increased ECLAT. Mr. Mincin is invited to an evening party with his dear friends the Martins,

where he meets his dear friends the Cappers, and his dear friends the Watsons, and a hundred other dear

friends too numerous to mention. He is as much at home with the Martins as with the Cappers; but how

exquisitely he balances his attentions, and divides them among his dear friends! If he flirts with one of the

Miss Watsons, he has one little Martin on the sofa pulling his hair, and the other little Martin on the carpet

riding on his foot. He carries Mrs. Watson down to supper on one arm, and Miss Martin on the other, and

takes wine so judiciously, and in such exact order, that it is impossible for the most punctilious old lady to

consider herself neglected. If any young lady, being prevailed upon to sing, become nervous afterwards, Mr.

Mincin leads her tenderly into the next room, and restores her with port wine, which she must take

medicinally. If any gentleman be standing by the piano during the progress of the ballad, Mr. Mincin seizes

him by the arm at one point of the melody, and softly beating time the while with his head, expresses in dumb

show his intense perception of the delicacy of the passage. If anybody's selflove is to be flattered, Mr.

Mincin is at hand. If anybody's overweening vanity is to be pampered, Mr. Mincin will surfeit it. What

wonder that people of all stations and ages recognise Mr. Mincin's friendliness; that he is universally allowed

to be handsome as amiable; that mothers think him an oracle, daughters a dear, brothers a beau, and fathers a

wonder! And who would not have the reputation of the very friendly young gentleman?

We are rather at a loss to imagine how it has come to pass that military young gentlemen have obtained so

much favour in the eyes of the young ladies of this kingdom. We cannot think so lightly of them as to

suppose that the mere circumstance of a man's wearing a red coat ensures him a ready passport to their

regard; and even if this were the case, it would be no satisfactory explanation of the circumstance, because,

although the analogy may in some degree hold good in the case of mail coachmen and guards, still general

postmen wear red coats, and THEY are not to our knowledge better received than other men; nor are firemen

either, who wear (or used to wear) not only red coats, but very resplendent and massive badges besides

much larger than epaulettes. Neither do the twopenny postoffice boys, if the result of our inquiries be

correct, find any peculiar favour in woman's eyes, although they wear very bright red jackets, and have the

additional advantage of constantly appearing in public on horseback, which last circumstance may be

We have sometimes thought that this phenomenon may take its rise in the conventional behaviour of captains

and colonels and other gentlemen in red coats on the stage, where they are invariably represented as fine

swaggering fellows, talking of nothing but charming girls, their king and country, their honour, and their

debts, and crowing over the inferior classes of the community, whom they occasionally treat with a little

gentlemanly swindling, no less to the improvement and pleasure of the audience, than to the satisfaction and

approval of the choice spirits who consort with them. But we will not devote these pages to our speculations

upon the subject, inasmuch as our business at the present moment is not so much with the young ladies who

are bewitched by her Majesty's livery as with the young gentlemen whose heads are turned by it. For 'heads'

we had written 'brains;' but upon consideration, we think the former the more appropriate word of the two.

These young gentlemen may be divided into two classes young gentlemen who are actually in the army,

and young gentlemen who, having an intense and enthusiastic admiration for all things appertaining to a

military life, are compelled by adverse fortune or adverse relations to wear out their existence in some

ignoble countinghouse. We will take this latter description of military young gentlemen first.

The whole heart and soul of the military young gentleman are concentrated in his favourite topic. There is

nothing that he is so learned upon as uniforms; he will tell you, without faltering for an instant, what the

habiliments of any one regiment are turned up with, what regiment wear stripes down the outside and inside

of the leg, and how many buttons the Tenth had on their coats; he knows to a fraction how many yards and

odd inches of gold lace it takes to make an ensign in the Guards; is deeply read in the comparative merits of

different bands, and the apparelling of trumpeters; and is very luminous indeed in descanting upon 'crack

regiments,' and the 'crack' gentlemen who compose them, of whose mightiness and grandeur he is never tired

We were suggesting to a military young gentleman only the other day, after he had related to us several

dazzling instances of the profusion of halfadozen honourable ensign somebodies or nobodies in the articles

of kid gloves and polished boots, that possibly 'cracked' regiments would be an improvement upon 'crack,' as

being a more expressive and appropriate designation, when he suddenly interrupted us by pulling out his

watch, and observing that he must hurry off to the Park in a cab, or he would be too late to hear the band play.

Not wishing to interfere with so important an engagement, and being in fact already slightly overwhelmed by

the anecdotes of the honourable ensigns aforementioned, we made no attempt to detain the military young

Some three or four hours afterwards, we chanced to be walking down Whitehall, on the Admiralty side of the

way, when, as we drew near to one of the little stone places in which a couple of horse soldiers mount guard

in the daytime, we were attracted by the motionless appearance and eager gaze of a young gentleman, who

was devouring both man and horse with his eyes, so eagerly, that he seemed deaf and blind to all that was

passing around him. We were not much surprised at the discovery that it was our friend, the military young

gentleman, but we WERE a little astonished when we returned from a walk to South Lambeth to find him

still there, looking on with the same intensity as before. As it was a very windy day, we felt bound to awaken

the young gentleman from his reverie, when he inquired of us with great enthusiasm, whether 'that was not a

glorious spectacle,' and proceeded to give us a detailed account of the weight of every article of the

We have made it a practice since, to take the Horse Guards in our daily walk, and we find it is the custom of

military young gentlemen to plant themselves opposite the sentries, and contemplate them at leisure, in

periods varying from fifteen minutes to fifty, and averaging twentyfive. We were much struck a day or two

since, by the behaviour of a very promising young butcher who (evincing an interest in the service, which

cannot be too strongly commanded or encouraged), after a prolonged inspection of the sentry, proceeded to

handle his boots with great curiosity, and as much composure and indifference as if the man were waxwork.

But the really military young gentleman is waiting all this time, and at the very moment that an apology rises

to our lips, he emerges from the barrack gate (he is quartered in a garrison town), and takes the way towards

the high street. He wears his undress uniform, which somewhat mars the glory of his outward man; but still

how great, how grand, he is! What a happy mixture of ease and ferocity in his gait and carriage, and how

lightly he carries that dreadful sword under his arm, making no more ado about it than if it were a silk

umbrella! The lion is sleeping: only think if an enemy were in sight, how soon he'd whip it out of the

But he walks on, thinking of nothing less than blood and slaughter; and now he comes in sight of three other

military young gentlemen, arminarm, who are bearing down towards him, clanking their iron heels on the

pavement, and clashing their swords with a noise, which should cause all peaceful men to quail at heart. They

stop to talk. See how the flaxenhaired young gentleman with the weak legs he who has his

pockethandkerchief thrust into the breast of his coatglares upon the fainthearted civilians who linger to

look upon his glory; how the next young gentleman elevates his head in the air, and majestically places his

arms akimbo, while the third stands with his legs very wide apart, and clasps his hands behind him. Well

may we inquire not in familiar jest, but in respectful earnest if you call that nothing. Oh! if some

encroaching foreign power the Emperor of Russia, for instance, or any of those deep fellows, could only

see those military young gentlemen as they move on together towards the billiardroom over the way,

And then, at the Theatre at night, when the performances are by command of Colonel FitzSordust and the

officers of the garrison what a splendid sight it is! How sternly the defenders of their country look round

the house as if in mute assurance to the audience, that they may make themselves comfortable regarding any

foreign invasion, for they (the military young gentlemen) are keeping a sharp lookout, and are ready for

anything. And what a contrast between them, and that stagebox full of greyheaded officers with tokens of

many battles about them, who have nothing at all in common with the military young gentlemen, and who

but for an oldfashioned kind of manly dignity in their looks and bearing might be common hardworking

Ah! here is a family just come in who recognise the flaxenheaded young gentleman; and the flaxenheaded

young gentleman recognises them too, only he doesn't care to show it just now. Very well done indeed! He

talks louder to the little group of military young gentlemen who are standing by him, and coughs to induce

some ladies in the next box but one to look round, in order that their faces may undergo the same ordeal of

criticism to which they have subjected, in not a wholly inaudible tone, the majority of the female portion of

the audience. Oh! a gentleman in the same box looks round as if he were disposed to resent this as an

impertinence; and the flaxenheaded young gentleman sees his friends at once, and hurries away to them

Three young ladies, one young man, and the mamma of the party, receive the military young gentleman with

great warmth and politeness, and in five minutes afterwards the military young gentleman, stimulated by the

mamma, introduces the two other military young gentlemen with whom he was walking in the morning, who

take their seats behind the young ladies and commence conversation; whereat the mamma bestows a

triumphant bow upon a rival mamma, who has not succeeded in decoying any military young gentlemen, and

prepares to consider her visitors from that moment three of the most elegant and superior young gentlemen in

Once upon a time NOT in the days when pigs drank wine, but in a more recent period of our history it

was customary to banish politics when ladies were present. If this usage still prevailed, we should have had

no chapter for political young gentlemen, for ladies would have neither known nor cared what kind of

monster a political young gentleman was. But as this good custom in common with many others has 'gone

out,' and left no word when it is likely to be home again; as political young ladies are by no means rare, and

political young gentlemen the very reverse of scarce, we are bound in the strict discharge of our most

If the political young gentleman be resident in a country town (and there ARE political young gentlemen in

country towns sometimes), he is wholly absorbed in his politics; as a pair of purple spectacles communicate

the same uniform tint to all objects near and remote, so the political glasses, with which the young gentleman

assists his mental vision, give to everything the hue and tinge of party feeling. The political young gentleman

would as soon think of being struck with the beauty of a young lady in the opposite interest, as he would

If the political young gentleman be a Conservative, he has usually some vague ideas about Ireland and the

Pope which he cannot very clearly explain, but which he knows are the right sort of thing, and not to be very

easily got over by the other side. He has also some choice sentences regarding church and state, culled from

the banners in use at the last election, with which he intersperses his conversation at intervals with surprising

effect. But his great topic is the constitution, upon which he will declaim, by the hour together, with much

heat and fury; not that he has any particular information on the subject, but because he knows that the

constitution is somehow church and state, and church and state somehow the constitution, and that the

fellows on the other side say it isn't, which is quite a sufficient reason for him to say it is, and to stick to it.

Perhaps his greatest topic of all, though, is the people. If a fight takes place in a populous town, in which

many noses are broken, and a few windows, the young gentleman throws down the newspaper with a

triumphant air, and exclaims, 'Here's your precious people!' If halfadozen boys run across the course at

race time, when it ought to be kept clear, the young gentleman looks indignantly round, and begs you to

observe the conduct of the people; if the gallery demand a hornpipe between the play and the afterpiece, the

same young gentleman cries 'No' and 'Shame' till he is hoarse, and then inquires with a sneer what you think

of popular moderation NOW; in short, the people form a neverfailing theme for him; and when the attorney,

on the side of his candidate, dwells upon it with great power of eloquence at election time, as he never fails to

do, the young gentleman and his friends, and the body they head, cheer with great violence against THE

OTHER PEOPLE, with whom, of course, they have no possible connexion. In much the same manner the

audience at a theatre never fail to be highly amused with any jokes at the expense of the public always

If the political young gentleman be a Radical, he is usually a very profound person indeed, having great store

of theoretical questions to put to you, with an infinite variety of possible cases and logical deductions

therefrom. If he be of the utilitarian school, too, which is more than probable, he is particularly pleasant

company, having many ingenious remarks to offer upon the voluntary principle and various cheerful

disquisitions connected with the population of the country, the position of Great Britain in the scale of

nations, and the balance of power. Then he is exceedingly well versed in all doctrines of political economy as

laid down in the newspapers, and knows a great many parliamentary speeches by heart; nay, he has a small

stock of aphorisms, none of them exceeding a couple of lines in length, which will settle the toughest

question and leave you nothing to say. He gives all the young ladies to understand, that Miss Martineau is the

greatest woman that ever lived; and when they praise the good looks of Mr. Hawkins the new member, says

he's very well for a representative, all things considered, but he wants a little calling to account, and he is

more than half afraid it will be necessary to bring him down on his knees for that vote on the miscellaneous

estimates. At this, the young ladies express much wonderment, and say surely a Member of Parliament is not

to be brought upon his knees so easily; in reply to which the political young gentleman smiles sternly, and

throws out dark hints regarding the speedy arrival of that day, when Members of Parliament will be paid

salaries, and required to render weekly accounts of their proceedings, at which the young ladies utter many

expressions of astonishment and incredulity, while their ladymothers regard the prophecy as little else than

It is extremely improving and interesting to hear two political young gentlemen, of diverse opinions, discuss

some great question across a dinnertable; such as, whether, if the public were admitted to Westminster

Abbey for nothing, they would or would not convey small chisels and hammers in their pockets, and

immediately set about chipping all the noses off the statues; or whether, if they once got into the Tower for a

shilling, they would not insist upon trying the crown on their own heads, and loading and firing off all the

small arms in the armoury, to the great discomposure of Whitechapel and the Minories. Upon these, and

many other momentous questions which agitate the public mind in these desperate days, they will discourse

with great vehemence and irritation for a considerable time together, both leaving off precisely where they

In society, at assemblies, balls, and playhouses, these political young gentlemen are perpetually on the watch

for a political allusion, or anything which can be tortured or construed into being one; when, thrusting

themselves into the very smallest openings for their favourite discourse, they fall upon the unhappy company

tooth and nail. They have recently had many favourable opportunities of opening in churches, but as there the

clergyman has it all his own way, and must not be contradicted, whatever politics he preaches, they are fain

to hold their tongues until they reach the outer door, though at the imminent risk of bursting in the effort.

As such discussions can please nobody but the talkative parties concerned, we hope they will henceforth take

the hint and discontinue them, otherwise we now give them warning, that the ladies have our advice to

Let us make a slight sketch of our amiable friend, Mr. Felix Nixon. We are strongly disposed to think, that if

we put him in this place, he will answer our purpose without another word of comment.

Felix, then, is a young gentleman who lives at home with his mother, just within the twopennypost office

circle of three miles from St. MartinleGrand. He wears Indiarubber goloshes when the weather is at all

damp, and always has a silk handkerchief neatly folded up in the righthand pocket of his greatcoat, to tie

over his mouth when he goes home at night; moreover, being rather near sighted, he carries spectacles for

particular occasions, and has a weakish tremulous voice, of which he makes great use, for he talks as much as

The two chief subjects of Felix's discourse, are himself and his mother, both of whom would appear to be

very wonderful and interesting persons. As Felix and his mother are seldom apart in body, so Felix and his

mother are scarcely ever separate in spirit. If you ask Felix how he finds himself today, he prefaces his reply

with a long and minute bulletin of his mother's state of health; and the good lady in her turn, edifies her

acquaintance with a circumstantial and alarming account, how he sneezed four times and coughed once after

being out in the rain the other night, but having his feet promptly put into hot water, and his head into a

flannelsomething, which we will not describe more particularly than by this delicate allusion, was happily

Our friend is not a very adventurous or hotheaded person, but he has passed through many dangers, as his

mother can testify: there is one great story in particular, concerning a hackney coachman who wanted to

overcharge him one night for bringing them home from the play, upon which Felix gave the aforesaid

coachman a look which his mother thought would have crushed him to the earth, but which did not crush him

quite, for he continued to demand another sixpence, notwithstanding that Felix took out his pocketbook,

and, with the aid of a flat candle, pointed out the fare in print, which the coachman obstinately disregarding,

he shut the streetdoor with a slam which his mother shudders to think of; and then, roused to the most

appalling pitch of passion by the coachman knocking a double knock to show that he was by no means

convinced, he broke with uncontrollable force from his parent and the servant girl, and running into the street

without his hat, actually shook his fist at the coachman, and came back again with a face as white, Mrs.

Nixon says, looking about her for a simile, as white as that ceiling. She never will forget his fury that night,

To this account Felix listens with a solemn face, occasionally looking at you to see how it affects you, and

when his mother has made an end of it, adds that he looked at every coachman he met for three weeks

afterwards, in hopes that he might see the scoundrel; whereupon Mrs. Nixon, with an exclamation of terror,

requests to know what he would have done to him if he HAD seen him, at which Felix smiling darkly and

clenching his right fist, she exclaims, 'Goodness gracious!' with a distracted air, and insists upon extorting a

promise that he never will on any account do anything so rash, which her dutiful son it being something

more than three years since the offence was committed reluctantly concedes, and his mother, shaking her

head prophetically, fears with a sigh that his spirit will lead him into something violent yet. The discourse

then, by an easy transition, turns upon the spirit which glows within the bosom of Felix, upon which point

Felix himself becomes eloquent, and relates a thrilling anecdote of the time when he used to sit up till two

o'clock in the morning reading French, and how his mother used to say, 'Felix, you will make yourself ill, I

know you will;' and how HE used to say, 'Mother, I don't care I will do it;' and how at last his mother

privately procured a doctor to come and see him, who declared, the moment he felt his pulse, that if he had

gone on reading one night more only one night more he must have put a blister on each temple, and

another between his shoulders; and who, as it was, sat down upon the instant, and writing a prescription for a

blue pill, said it must be taken immediately, or he wouldn't answer for the consequences. The recital of these

and many other moving perils of the like nature, constantly harrows up the feelings of Mr. Nixon's friends.

Mrs. Nixon has a tolerably extensive circle of female acquaintance, being a goodhumoured, talkative,

bustling little body, and to the unmarried girls among them she is constantly vaunting the virtues of her son,

hinting that she will be a very happy person who wins him, but that they must mind their P's and Q's, for he is

very particular, and terribly severe upon young ladies. At this last caution the young ladies resident in the

same row, who happen to be spending the evening there, put their pockethandkerchiefs before their mouths,

and are troubled with a short cough; just then Felix knocks at the door, and his mother drawing the teatable

nearer the fire, calls out to him as he takes off his boots in the back parlour that he needn't mind coming in in

his slippers, for there are only the two Miss Greys and Miss Thompson, and she is quite sure they will excuse

HIM, and nodding to the two Miss Greys, she adds, in a whisper, that Julia Thompson is a great favourite

with Felix, at which intelligence the short cough comes again, and Miss Thompson in particular is greatly

troubled with it, till Felix coming in, very faint for want of his tea, changes the subject of discourse, and

enables her to laugh out boldly and tell Amelia Grey not to be so foolish. Here they all three laugh, and Mrs.

Nixon says they are giddy girls; in which stage of the proceedings, Felix, who has by this time refreshened

himself with the grateful herb that 'cheers but not inebriates,' removes his cup from his countenance and says

with a knowing smile, that all girls are; whereat his admiring mamma pats him on the back and tells him not

to be sly, which calls forth a general laugh from the young ladies, and another smile from Felix, who,

Tea being over, the young ladies resume their work, and Felix insists upon holding a skein of silk while Miss

Thompson winds it on a card. This process having been performed to the satisfaction of all parties, he brings

down his flute in compliance with a request from the youngest Miss Grey, and plays divers tunes out of a

very small musicbook till suppertime, when he is very facetious and talkative indeed. Finally, after half a

tumblerful of warm sherry and water, he gallantly puts on his goloshes over his slippers, and telling Miss

Thompson's servant to run on first and get the door open, escorts that young lady to her house, five doors off:

the Miss Greys who live in the next house but one stopping to peep with merry faces from their own door till

he comes back again, when they call out 'Very well, Mr. Felix,' and trip into the passage with a laugh more

Felix is rather prim in his appearance, and perhaps a little priggish about his books and flute, and so forth,

which have all their peculiar corners of peculiar shelves in his bedroom; indeed all his female acquaintance

(and they are good judges) have long ago set him down as a thorough old bachelor. He is a favourite with

them however, in a certain way, as an honest, inoffensive, kindhearted creature; and as his peculiarities

harm nobody, not even himself, we are induced to hope that many who are not personally acquainted with

him will take our good word in his behalf, and be content to leave him to a long continuance of his harmless

There is an amiable kind of young gentleman going about in society, upon whom, after much experience of

him, and considerable turning over of the subject in our mind, we feel it our duty to affix the above

appellation. Young ladies mildly call him a 'sarcastic' young gentleman, or a 'severe' young gentleman. We,

who know better, beg to acquaint them with the fact, that he is merely a censorious young gentleman, and

The censorious young gentleman has the reputation among his familiars of a remarkably clever person, which

he maintains by receiving all intelligence and expressing all opinions with a dubious sneer, accompanied with

a half smile, expressive of anything you please but goodhumour. This sets people about thinking what on

earth the censorious young gentleman means, and they speedily arrive at the conclusion that he means

something very deep indeed; for they reason in this way 'This young gentleman looks so very knowing that

he must mean something, and as I am by no means a dull individual, what a very deep meaning he must have

if I can't find it out!' It is extraordinary how soon a censorious young gentleman may make a reputation in his

own small circle if he bear this in his mind, and regulate his proceedings accordingly.

As young ladies are generally not curious, but laudably desirous to acquire information, the censorious

young gentleman is much talked about among them, and many surmises are hazarded regarding him. 'I

wonder,' exclaims the eldest Miss Greenwood, laying down her work to turn up the lamp, 'I wonder whether

Mr. Fairfax will ever be married.' 'Bless me, dear,' cries Miss Marshall, 'what ever made you think of him?'

'Really I hardly know,' replies Miss Greenwood; 'he is such a very mysterious person, that I often wonder

about him.' 'Well, to tell you the truth,' replies Miss Marshall, 'and so do I.' Here two other young ladies

profess that they are constantly doing the like, and all present appear in the same condition except one young

lady, who, not scrupling to state that she considers Mr. Fairfax 'a horror,' draws down all the opposition of the

others, which having been expressed in a great many ejaculatory passages, such as 'Well, did I ever!' and

'Lor, Emily, dear!' ma takes up the subject, and gravely states, that she must say she does not think Mr.

Fairfax by any means a horror, but rather takes him to be a young man of very great ability; 'and I am quite

The door opens at this point of the disclosure, and who of all people alive walks into the room, but the very

Mr. Fairfax, who has been the subject of conversation! 'Well, it really is curious,' cries ma, 'we were at that

very moment talking about you.' 'You did me great honour,' replies Mr. Fairfax; 'may I venture to ask what

you were saying?' 'Why, if you must know,' returns the eldest girl, 'we were remarking what a very

mysterious man you are.' 'Ay, ay!' observes Mr. Fairfax, 'Indeed!' Now Mr. Fairfax says this ay, ay, and

indeed, which are slight words enough in themselves, with so very unfathomable an air, and accompanies

them with such a very equivocal smile, that ma and the young ladies are more than ever convinced that he

means an immensity, and so tell him he is a very dangerous man, and seems to be always thinking ill of

somebody, which is precisely the sort of character the censorious young gentleman is most desirous to

establish; wherefore he says, 'Oh, dear, no,' in a tone, obviously intended to mean, 'You have me there,' and

which gives them to understand that they have hit the right nail on the very centre of its head.

When the conversation ranges from the mystery overhanging the censorious young gentleman's behaviour, to

the general topics of the day, he sustains his character to admiration. He considers the new tragedy well

enough for a new tragedy, but Lord bless us well, no matter; he could say a great deal on that point, but he

would rather not, lest he should be thought illnatured, as he knows he would be. 'But is not Mr. Soandso's

performance truly charming?' inquires a young lady. 'Charming!' replies the censorious young gentleman.

'Oh, dear, yes, certainly; very charming oh, very charming indeed.' After this, he stirs the fire, smiling

contemptuously all the while: and a modest young gentleman, who has been a silent listener, thinks what a

great thing it must be, to have such a critical judgment. Of music, pictures, books, and poetry, the censorious

young gentleman has an equally fine conception. As to men and women, he can tell all about them at a

glance. 'Now let us hear your opinion of young Mrs. Barker,' says some great believer in the powers of Mr.

Fairfax, 'but don't be too severe.' 'I never am severe,' replies the censorious young gentleman. 'Well, never

mind that now. She is very ladylike, is she not?' 'Ladylike!' repeats the censorious young gentleman (for he

always repeats when he is at a loss for anything to say). 'Did you observe her manner? Bless my heart and

soul, Mrs. Thompson, did you observe her manner? that's all I ask.' 'I thought I had done so,' rejoins the

poor lady, much perplexed; 'I did not observe it very closely perhaps.' 'Oh, not very closely,' rejoins the

censorious young gentleman, triumphantly. 'Very good; then I did. Let us talk no more about her.' The

censorious young gentleman purses up his lips, and nods his head sagely, as he says this; and it is forthwith

whispered about, that Mr. Fairfax (who, though he is a little prejudiced, must be admitted to be a very

excellent judge) has observed something exceedingly odd in Mrs. Barker's manner.

As one funny young gentleman will serve as a sample of all funny young Gentlemen we purpose merely to

note down the conduct and behaviour of an individual specimen of this class, whom we happened to meet at

an annual family Christmas party in the course of this very last Christmas that ever came.

We were all seated round a blazing fire which crackled pleasantly as the guests talked merrily and the urn

steamed cheerily for, being an oldfashioned party, there WAS an urn, and a teapot besides when there

came a postman's knock at the door, so violent and sudden, that it startled the whole circle, and actually

caused two or three very interesting and most unaffected young ladies to scream aloud and to exhibit many

afflicting symptoms of terror and distress, until they had been several times assured by their respective

adorers, that they were in no danger. We were about to remark that it was surely beyond posttime, and must

have been a runaway knock, when our host, who had hitherto been paralysed with wonder, sank into a chair

in a perfect ecstasy of laughter, and offered to lay twenty pounds that it was that droll dog Griggins. He had

no sooner said this, than the majority of the company and all the children of the house burst into a roar of

laughter too, as if some inimitable joke flashed upon them simultaneously, and gave vent to various

exclamations of To be sure it must be Griggins, and How like him that was, and What spirits he was always

Not having the happiness to know Griggins, we became extremely desirous to see so pleasant a fellow, the

more especially as a stout gentleman with a powdered head, who was sitting with his breeches buckles almost

touching the hob, whispered us he was a wit of the first water, when the door opened, and Mr. Griggins being

announced, presented himself, amidst another shout of laughter and a loud clapping of hands from the

younger branches. This welcome he acknowledged by sundry contortions of countenance, imitative of the

clown in one of the new pantomimes, which were so extremely successful, that one stout gentleman rolled

upon an ottoman in a paroxysm of delight, protesting, with many gasps, that if somebody didn't make that

fellow Griggins leave off, he would be the death of him, he knew. At this the company only laughed more

boisterously than before, and as we always like to accommodate our tone and spirit if possible to the humour

of any society in which we find ourself, we laughed with the rest, and exclaimed, 'Oh! capital, capital!' as

When he had quite exhausted all beholders, Mr. Griggins received the welcomes and congratulations of the

circle, and went through the needful introductions with much ease and many puns. This ceremony over, he

avowed his intention of sitting in somebody's lap unless the young ladies made room for him on the sofa,

which being done, after a great deal of tittering and pleasantry, he squeezed himself among them, and likened

his condition to that of love among the roses. At this novel jest we all roared once more. 'You should consider

yourself highly honoured, sir,' said we. 'Sir,' replied Mr. Griggins, 'you do me proud.' Here everybody

laughed again; and the stout gentleman by the fire whispered in our ear that Griggins was making a dead set

The teathings having been removed, we all sat down to a round game, and here Mr. Griggins shone forth

with peculiar brilliancy, abstracting other people's fish, and looking over their hands in the most comical

manner. He made one most excellent joke in snuffing a candle, which was neither more nor less than setting

fire to the hair of a pale young gentleman who sat next him, and afterwards begging his pardon with

considerable humour. As the young gentleman could not see the joke however, possibly in consequence of its

being on the top of his own head, it did not go off quite as well as it might have done; indeed, the young

gentleman was heard to murmur some general references to 'impertinence,' and a 'rascal,' and to state the

number of his lodgings in an angry tone a turn of the conversation which might have been productive of

slaughterous consequences, if a young lady, betrothed to the young gentleman, had not used her immediate

influence to bring about a reconciliation: emphatically declaring in an agitated whisper, intended for his

peculiar edification but audible to the whole table, that if he went on in that way, she never would think of

him otherwise than as a friend, though as that she must always regard him. At this terrible threat the young

gentleman became calm, and the young lady, overcome by the revulsion of feeling, instantaneously fainted.

Mr. Griggins's spirits were slightly depressed for a short period by this unlookedfor result of such a

harmless pleasantry, but being promptly elevated by the attentions of the host and several glasses of wine, he

soon recovered, and became even more vivacious than before, insomuch that the stout gentleman previously

referred to, assured us that although he had known him since he was THAT high (something smaller than a

When the round game and several games at blind man's buff which followed it were all over, and we were

going down to supper, the inexhaustible Mr. Griggins produced a small sprig of mistletoe from his waistcoat

pocket, and commenced a general kissing of the assembled females, which occasioned great commotion and

much excitement. We observed that several young gentlemen including the young gentleman with the pale

countenance were greatly scandalised at this indecorous proceeding, and talked very big among themselves

in corners; and we observed too, that several young ladies when remonstrated with by the aforesaid young

gentlemen, called each other to witness how they had struggled, and protested vehemently that it was very

rude, and that they were surprised at Mrs. Brown's allowing it, and that they couldn't bear it, and had no

patience with such impertinence. But such is the gentle and forgiving nature of woman, that although we

looked very narrowly for it, we could not detect the slightest harshness in the subsequent treatment of Mr.

Griggins. Indeed, upon the whole, it struck us that among the ladies he seemed rather more popular than

To recount all the drollery of Mr. Griggins at supper, would fill such a tiny volume as this, to the very bottom

of the outside cover. How he drank out of other people's glasses, and ate of other people's bread, how he

frightened into screaming convulsions a little boy who was sitting up to supper in a high chair, by sinking

below the table and suddenly reappearing with a mask on; how the hostess was really surprised that anybody

could find a pleasure in tormenting children, and how the host frowned at the hostess, and felt convinced that

Mr. Griggins had done it with the very best intentions; how Mr. Griggins explained, and how everybody's

goodhumour was restored but the child's; to tell these and a hundred other things ever so briefly, would

occupy more of our room and our readers' patience, than either they or we can conveniently spare. Therefore

we change the subject, merely observing that we have offered no description of the funny young gentleman's

personal appearance, believing that almost every society has a Griggins of its own, and leaving all readers to

supply the deficiency, according to the particular circumstances of their particular case.

All gentlemen who love the drama and there are few gentlemen who are not attached to the most

intellectual and rational of all our amusements do not come within this definition. As we have no mean

relish for theatrical entertainments ourself, we are disinterestedly anxious that this should be perfectly

The theatrical young gentleman has early and important information on all theatrical topics. 'Well,' says he,

abruptly, when you meet him in the street, 'here's a pretty todo. Flimkins has thrown up his part in the

melodrama at the Surrey.' 'And what's to be done?' you inquire with as much gravity as you can counterfeit.

'Ah, that's the point,' replies the theatrical young gentleman, looking very serious; 'Boozle declines it;

positively declines it. From all I am told, I should say it was decidedly in Boozle's line, and that he would be

very likely to make a great hit in it; but he objects on the ground of Flimkins having been put up in the part

first, and says no earthly power shall induce him to take the character. It's a fine part, too excellent

business, I'm told. He has to kill six people in the course of the piece, and to fight over a bridge in red fire,

which is as safe a card, you know, as can be. Don't mention it; but I hear that the last scene, when he is first

poisoned, and then stabbed, by Mrs. Flimkins as Vengedora, will be the greatest thing that has been done

these many years.' With this piece of news, and laying his finger on his lips as a caution for you not to excite

The theatrical young gentleman, from often frequenting the different theatrical establishments, has pet and

familiar names for them all. Thus CoventGarden is the garden, DruryLane the lane, the Victoria the vic,

and the Olympic the pic. Actresses, too, are always designated by their surnames only, as Taylor, Nisbett,

Faucit, Honey; that talented and ladylike girl Sheriff, that clever little creature Horton, and so on. In the

same manner he prefixes Christian names when he mentions actors, as Charley Young, Jemmy Buckstone,

Fred. Yates, Paul Bedford. When he is at a loss for a Christian name, the word 'old' applied indiscriminately

answers quite as well: as old Charley Matthews at Vestris's, old Harley, and old Braham. He has a great

knowledge of the private proceedings of actresses, especially of their getting married, and can tell you in a

breath halfadozen who have changed their names without avowing it. Whenever an alteration of this kind

is made in the playbills, he will remind you that he let you into the secret six months ago.

The theatrical young gentleman has a great reverence for all that is connected with the stage department of

the different theatres. He would, at any time, prefer going a street or two out of his way, to omitting to pass a

stageentrance, into which he always looks with a curious and searching eye. If he can only identify a

popular actor in the street, he is in a perfect transport of delight; and no sooner meets him, than he hurries

back, and walks a few paces in front of him, so that he can turn round from time to time, and have a good

stare at his features. He looks upon a theatricalfund dinner as one of the most enchanting festivities ever

known; and thinks that to be a member of the Garrick Club, and see so many actors in their plain clothes,

The theatrical young gentleman is a constant halfprice visitor at one or other of the theatres, and has an

infinite relish for all pieces which display the fullest resources of the establishment. He likes to place implicit

reliance upon the playbills when he goes to see a showpiece, and works himself up to such a pitch of

enthusiasm, as not only to believe (if the bills say so) that there are three hundred and seventyfive people on

the stage at one time in the last scene, but is highly indignant with you, unless you believe it also. He

considers that if the stage be opened from the footlights to the back wall, in any new play, the piece is a

triumph of dramatic writing, and applauds accordingly. He has a great notion of trapdoors too; and thinks

any character going down or coming up a trap (no matter whether he be an angel or a demon they both do it

occasionally) one of the most interesting feats in the whole range of scenic illusion.

Besides these acquirements, he has several veracious accounts to communicate of the private manners and

customs of different actors, which, during the pauses of a quadrille, he usually communicates to his partner,

or imparts to his neighbour at a supper table. Thus he is advised, that Mr. Liston always had a footman in

gorgeous livery waiting at the sidescene with a brandy bottle and tumbler, to administer half a pint or so of

spirit to him every time he came off, without which assistance he must infallibly have fainted. He knows for a

fact, that, after an arduous part, Mr. George Bennett is put between two feather beds, to absorb the

perspiration; and is credibly informed, that Mr. Baker has, for many years, submitted to a course of lukewarm

toastandwater, to qualify him to sustain his favourite characters. He looks upon Mr. Fitz Ball as the

principal dramatic genius and poet of the day; but holds that there are great writers extant besides him, in

proof whereof he refers you to various dramas and melodramas recently produced, of which he takes in all

The theatrical young gentleman is a great advocate for violence of emotion and redundancy of action. If a

father has to curse a child upon the stage, he likes to see it done in the thoroughgoing style, with no mistake

about it: to which end it is essential that the child should follow the father on her knees, and be knocked

violently over on her face by the old gentleman as he goes into a small cottage, and shuts the door behind

him. He likes to see a blessing invoked upon the young lady, when the old gentleman repents, with equal

earnestness, and accompanied by the usual conventional forms, which consist of the old gentleman looking

anxiously up into the clouds, as if to see whether it rains, and then spreading an imaginary tablecloth in the

air over the young lady's head soft music playing all the while. Upon these, and other points of a similar

kind, the theatrical young gentleman is a great critic indeed. He is likewise very acute in judging of natural

expressions of the passions, and knows precisely the frown, wink, nod, or leer, which stands for any one of

them, or the means by which it may be converted into any other: as jealousy, with a good stamp of the right

foot, becomes anger; or wildness, with the hands clasped before the throat, instead of tearing the wig, is

passionate love. If you venture to express a doubt of the accuracy of any of these portraitures, the theatrical

young gentleman assures you, with a haughty smile, that it always has been done in that way, and he

supposes they are not going to change it at this time of day to please you; to which, of course, you meekly

There are innumerable disquisitions of this nature, in which the theatrical young gentleman is very profound,

especially to ladies whom he is most in the habit of entertaining with them; but as we have no space to

recapitulate them at greater length, we must rest content with calling the attention of the young ladies in

Time was, and not very long ago either, when a singular epidemic raged among the young gentlemen, vast

numbers of whom, under the influence of the malady, tore off their neckerchiefs, turned down their shirt

collars, and exhibited themselves in the open streets with bare throats and dejected countenances, before the

eyes of an astonished public. These were poetical young gentlemen. The custom was gradually found to be

inconvenient, as involving the necessity of too much clean linen and too large washing bills, and these

outward symptoms have consequently passed away; but we are disposed to think, notwithstanding, that the

We know a poetical young gentleman a very poetical young gentleman. We do not mean to say that he is

troubled with the gift of poesy in any remarkable degree, but his countenance is of a plaintive and melancholy

cast, his manner is abstracted and bespeaks affliction of soul: he seldom has his hair cut, and often talks about

being an outcast and wanting a kindred spirit; from which, as well as from many general observations in

which he is wont to indulge, concerning mysterious impulses, and yearnings of the heart, and the supremacy

of intellect gilding all earthly things with the glowing magic of immortal verse, it is clear to all his friends

The favourite attitude of the poetical young gentleman is lounging on a sofa with his eyes fixed upon the

ceiling, or sitting bolt upright in a highbacked chair, staring with very round eyes at the opposite wall. When

he is in one of these positions, his mother, who is a worthy, affectionate old soul, will give you a nudge to

bespeak your attention without disturbing the abstracted one, and whisper with a shake of the head, that

John's imagination is at some extraordinary work or other, you may take her word for it. Hereupon John looks

more fiercely intent upon vacancy than before, and suddenly snatching a pencil from his pocket, puts down

three words, and a cross on the back of a card, sighs deeply, paces once or twice across the room, inflicts a

The poetical young gentleman is apt to acquire peculiar notions of things too, which plain ordinary people,

unblessed with a poetical obliquity of vision, would suppose to be rather distorted. For instance, when the

sickening murder and mangling of a wretched woman was affording delicious food wherewithal to gorge the

insatiable curiosity of the public, our friend the poetical young gentleman was in ecstasies not of disgust,

but admiration. 'Heavens!' cried the poetical young gentleman, 'how grand; how great!' We ventured

deferentially to inquire upon whom these epithets were bestowed: our humble thoughts oscillating between

the police officer who found the criminal, and the lockkeeper who found the head. 'Upon whom!' exclaimed

the poetical young gentleman in a frenzy of poetry, 'Upon whom should they be bestowed but upon the

murderer!' and thereupon it came out, in a fine torrent of eloquence, that the murderer was a great spirit, a

bold creature full of daring and nerve, a man of dauntless heart and determined courage, and withal a great

casuist and able reasoner, as was fully demonstrated in his philosophical colloquies with the great and noble

of the land. We held our peace, and meekly signified our indisposition to controvert these opinions firstly,

because we were no match at quotation for the poetical young gentleman; and secondly, because we felt it

would be of little use our entering into any disputation, if we were: being perfectly convinced that the

respectable and immoral hero in question is not the first and will not be the last hanged gentleman upon

This was a stern mystic flight of the poetical young gentleman. In his milder and softer moments he

occasionally lays down his neckcloth, and pens stanzas, which sometimes find their way into a Lady's

Magazine, or the 'Poets' Corner' of some country newspaper; or which, in default of either vent for his genius,

adorn the rainbow leaves of a lady's album. These are generally written upon some such occasions as

contemplating the Bank of England by midnight, or beholding Saint Paul's in a snowstorm; and when these

gloomy objects fail to afford him inspiration, he pours forth his soul in a touching address to a violet, or a

The poetical young gentleman is fond of quoting passages from his favourite authors, who are all of the

gloomy and desponding school. He has a great deal to say too about the world, and is much given to opining,

especially if he has taken anything strong to drink, that there is nothing in it worth living for. He gives you to

understand, however, that for the sake of society, he means to bear his part in the tiresome play, manfully

resisting the gratification of his own strong desire to make a premature exit; and consoles himself with the

reflection, that immortality has some chosen nook for himself and the other great spirits whom earth has

When the poetical young gentleman makes use of adjectives, they are all superlatives. Everything is of the

grandest, greatest, noblest, mightiest, loftiest; or the lowest, meanest, obscurest, vilest, and most pitiful. He

knows no medium: for enthusiasm is the soul of poetry; and who so enthusiastic as a poetical young

gentleman? 'Mr. Milkwash,' says a young lady as she unlocks her album to receive the young gentleman's

original impromptu contribution, 'how very silent you are! I think you must be in love.' 'Love!' cries the

poetical young gentleman, starting from his seat by the fire and terrifying the cat who scampers off at full

speed, 'Love! that burning, consuming passion; that ardour of the soul, that fierce glowing of the heart. Love!

The withering, blighting influence of hope misplaced and affection slighted. Love did you say! Ha! ha! ha!'

With this, the poetical young gentleman laughs a laugh belonging only to poets and Mr. O. Smith of the

Adelphi Theatre, and sits down, pen in hand, to throw off a page or two of verse in the biting,

semiatheistical demoniac style, which, like the poetical young gentleman himself, is full of sound and fury,

There is a certain kind of impostor a bragging, vaunting, puffing young gentleman against whom we are

desirous to warn that fairer part of the creation, to whom we more peculiarly devote these our labours. And

we are particularly induced to lay especial stress upon this division of our subject, by a little dialogue we held

some short time ago, with an esteemed young lady of our acquaintance, touching a most gross specimen of

this class of men. We had been urging all the absurdities of his conduct and conversation, and dwelling upon

the impossibilities he constantly recounted to which indeed we had not scrupled to prefix a certain hard

little word of one syllable and three letters when our fair friend, unable to maintain the contest any longer,

reluctantly cried, 'Well; he certainly has a habit of throwingoff, but then ' What then? Throw him off

yourself, said we. And so she did, but not at our instance, for other reasons appeared, and it might have been

The throwingoff young gentleman has so often a father possessed of vast property in some remote district of

Ireland, that we look with some suspicion upon all young gentlemen who volunteer this description of

themselves. The deceased grandfather of the throwingoff young gentleman was a man of immense

possessions, and untold wealth; the throwingoff young gentleman remembers, as well as if it were only

yesterday, the deceased baronet's library, with its long rows of scarce and valuable books in superbly

embossed bindings, arranged in cases, reaching from the lofty ceiling to the oaken floor; and the fine antique

chairs and tables, and the noble old castle of Ballykillbabaloo, with its splendid prospect of hill and dale, and

wood, and rich wild scenery, and the fine hunting stables and the spacious courtyards, 'and and

everything upon the same magnificent scale,' says the throwingoff young gentleman, 'princely; quite

princely. Ah!' And he sighs as if mourning over the fallen fortunes of his noble house.

The throwingoff young gentleman is a universal genius; at walking, running, rowing, swimming, and

skating, he is unrivalled; at all games of chance or skill, at hunting, shooting, fishing, riding, driving, or

amateur theatricals, no one can touch him that is COULD not, because he gives you carefully to

understand, lest there should be any opportunity of testing his skill, that he is quite out of practice just now,

and has been for some years. If you mention any beautiful girl of your common acquaintance in his hearing,

the throwingoff young gentleman starts, smiles, and begs you not to mind him, for it was quite involuntary:

people do say indeed that they were once engaged, but no although she is a very fine girl, he was so

situated at that time that he couldn't possibly encourage the 'but it's of no use talking about it!' he adds,

interrupting himself. 'She has got over it now, and I firmly hope and trust is happy.' With this benevolent

aspiration he nods his head in a mysterious manner, and whistling the first part of some popular air, thinks

There is another great characteristic of the throwingoff young gentleman, which is, that he 'happens to be

acquainted' with a most extraordinary variety of people in all parts of the world. Thus in all disputed

questions, when the throwingoff young gentleman has no argument to bring forward, he invariably happens

to be acquainted with some distant person, intimately connected with the subject, whose testimony decides

the point against you, to the great may we say it to the great admiration of three young ladies out of every

four, who consider the throwingoff young gentleman a very highlyconnected young man, and a most

Sometimes the throwingoff young gentleman happens to look in upon a little family circle of young ladies

who are quietly spending the evening together, and then indeed is he at the very height and summit of his

glory; for it is to be observed that he by no means shines to equal advantage in the presence of men as in the

society of overcredulous young ladies, which is his proper element. It is delightful to hear the number of

pretty things the throwingoff young gentleman gives utterance to, during tea, and still more so to observe

the ease with which, from long practice and study, he delicately blends one compliment to a lady with two for

himself. 'Did you ever see a more lovely blue than this flower, Mr. Caveton?' asks a young lady who, truth to

tell, is rather smitten with the throwingoff young gentleman. 'Never,' he replies, bending over the object of

admiration, 'never but in your eyes.' 'Oh, Mr. Caveton,' cries the young lady, blushing of course. 'Indeed I

speak the truth,' replies the throwingoff young gentleman, 'I never saw any approach to them. I used to think

my cousin's blue eyes lovely, but they grow dim and colourless beside yours.' 'Oh! a beautiful cousin, Mr.

Caveton!' replies the young lady, with that perfect artlessness which is the distinguishing characteristic of all

young ladies; 'an affair, of course.' 'No; indeed, indeed you wrong me,' rejoins the throwingoff young

gentleman with great energy. 'I fervently hope that her attachment towards me may be nothing but the natural

result of our close intimacy in childhood, and that in change of scene and among new faces she may soon

overcome it. I love her! Think not so meanly of me, Miss Lowfield, I beseech, as to suppose that title, lands,

riches, and beauty, can influence MY choice. The heart, the heart, Miss Lowfield.' Here the throwingoff

young gentleman sinks his voice to a still lower whisper; and the young lady duly proclaims to all the other

young ladies when they go upstairs, to put their bonnets on, that Mr. Caveton's relations are all immensely

We have seen a throwingoff young gentleman who, to our certain knowledge, was innocent of a note of

music, and scarcely able to recognise a tune by ear, volunteer a Spanish air upon the guitar when he had

previously satisfied himself that there was not such an instrument within a mile of the house.

We have heard another throwingoff young gentleman, after striking a note or two upon the piano, and

accompanying it correctly (by dint of laborious practice) with his voice, assure a circle of wondering listeners

that so acute was his ear that he was wholly unable to sing out of tune, let him try as he would. We have lived

to witness the unmasking of another throwingoff young gentleman, who went out a visiting in a military cap

with a gold band and tassel, and who, after passing successfully for a captain and being lauded to the skies for

his red whiskers, his bravery, his soldierly bearing and his pride, turned out to be the dishonest son of an

honest linendraper in a small country town, and whom, if it were not for this fortunate exposure, we should

not yet despair of encountering as the fortunate husband of some rich heiress. Ladies, ladies, the

throwingoff young gentlemen are often swindlers, and always fools. So pray you avoid them.

This young gentleman has several titles. Some young ladies consider him 'a nice young man,' others 'a fine

young man,' others 'quite a lady's man,' others 'a handsome man,' others 'a remarkably goodlooking young

man.' With some young ladies he is 'a perfect angel,' and with others 'quite a love.' He is likewise a charming

The young ladies' young gentleman has usually a fresh colour and very white teeth, which latter articles, of

course, he displays on every possible opportunity. He has brown or black hair, and whiskers of the same, if

possible; but a slight tinge of red, or the hue which is vulgarly known as SANDY, is not considered an

objection. If his head and face be large, his nose prominent, and his figure square, he is an uncommonly fine

young man, and worshipped accordingly. Should his whiskers meet beneath his chin, so much the better,

though this is not absolutely insisted on; but he must wear an underwaistcoat, and smile constantly.

There was a great party got up by some partyloving friends of ours last summer, to go and dine in Epping

Forest. As we hold that such wild expeditions should never be indulged in, save by people of the smallest

means, who have no dinner at home, we should indubitably have excused ourself from attending, if we had

not recollected that the projectors of the excursion were always accompanied on such occasions by a choice

sample of the young ladies' young gentleman, whom we were very anxious to have an opportunity of

We were to make for Chigwell in four glass coaches, each with a trifling company of six or eight inside, and

a little boy belonging to the projectors on the box and to start from the residence of the projectors,

Woburnplace, Russellsquare, at halfpast ten precisely. We arrived at the place of rendezvous at the

appointed time, and found the glass coaches and the little boys quite ready, and divers young ladies and

young gentlemen looking anxiously over the breakfastparlour blinds, who appeared by no means so much

gratified by our approach as we might have expected, but evidently wished we had been somebody else.

Observing that our arrival in lieu of the unknown occasioned some disappointment, we ventured to inquire

who was yet to come, when we found from the hasty reply of a dozen voices, that it was no other than the

'I cannot imagine,' said the mamma, 'what has become of Mr. Balim always so punctual, always so pleasant

and agreeable. I am sure I canNOT think.' As these last words were uttered in that measured, emphatic

manner which painfully announces that the speaker has not quite made up his or her mind what to say, but is

determined to talk on nevertheless, the eldest daughter took up the subject, and hoped no accident had

happened to Mr. Balim, upon which there was a general chorus of 'Dear Mr. Balim!' and one young lady,

more adventurous than the rest, proposed that an express should be straightway sent to dear Mr. Balim's

lodgings. This, however, the papa resolutely opposed, observing, in what a short young lady behind us

termed 'quite a bearish way,' that if Mr. Balim didn't choose to come, he might stop at home. At this all the

daughters raised a murmur of 'Oh pa!' except one sprightly little girl of eight or ten years old, who, taking

advantage of a pause in the discourse, remarked, that perhaps Mr. Balim might have been married that

morning for which impertinent suggestion she was summarily ejected from the room by her eldest sister.

We were all in a state of great mortification and uneasiness, when one of the little boys, running into the

room as airily as little boys usually run who have an unlimited allowance of animal food in the holidays, and

keep their hands constantly forced down to the bottoms of very deep trouserpockets when they take

exercise, joyfully announced that Mr. Balim was at that moment coming up the street in a hackneycab; and

the intelligence was confirmed beyond all doubt a minute afterwards by the entry of Mr. Balim himself, who

was received with repeated cries of 'Where have you been, you naughty creature?' whereunto the naughty

creature replied, that he had been in bed, in consequence of a late party the night before, and had only just

risen. The acknowledgment awakened a variety of agonizing fears that he had taken no breakfast; which

appearing after a slight crossexamination to be the real state of the case, breakfast for one was immediately

ordered, notwithstanding Mr. Balim's repeated protestations that he couldn't think of it. He did think of it

though, and thought better of it too, for he made a remarkably good meal when it came, and was assiduously

served by a select knot of young ladies. It was quite delightful to see how he ate and drank, while one pair of

fair hands poured out his coffee, and another put in the sugar, and another the milk; the rest of the company

ever and anon casting angry glances at their watches, and the glass coaches, and the little boys looking on

in an agony of apprehension lest it should begin to rain before we set out; it might have rained all day, after

However, the cavalcade moved at length, every coachman being accommodated with a hamper between his

legs something larger than a wheelbarrow; and the company being packed as closely as they possibly could in

the carriages, 'according,' as one married lady observed, 'to the immemorial custom, which was half the

diversion of gipsy parties.' Thinking it very likely it might be (we have never been able to discover the other

half), we submitted to be stowed away with a cheerful aspect, and were fortunate enough to occupy one

corner of a coach in which were one old lady, four young ladies, and the renowned Mr. Balim the young

We were no sooner fairly off, than the young ladies' young gentleman hummed a fragment of an air, which

induced a young lady to inquire whether he had danced to that the night before. 'By Heaven, then, I did,'

replied the young gentleman, 'and with a lovely heiress; a superb creature, with twenty thousand pounds.'

'You seem rather struck,' observed another young lady. ''Gad she was a sweet creature,' returned the young

gentleman, arranging his hair. 'Of course SHE was struck too?' inquired the first young lady. 'How can you

ask, love?' interposed the second; 'could she fail to be?' 'Well, honestly I think she was,' observed the young

gentleman. At this point of the dialogue, the young lady who had spoken first, and who sat on the young

gentleman's right, struck him a severe blow on the arm with a rosebud, and said he was a vain man

whereupon the young gentleman insisted on having the rosebud, and the young lady appealing for help to the

other young ladies, a charming struggle ensued, terminating in the victory of the young gentleman, and the

capture of the rosebud. This little skirmish over, the married lady, who was the mother of the rosebud, smiled

sweetly upon the young gentleman, and accused him of being a flirt; the young gentleman pleading not

guilty, a most interesting discussion took place upon the important point whether the young gentleman was a

flirt or not, which being an agreeable conversation of a light kind, lasted a considerable time. At length, a

short silence occurring, the young ladies on either side of the young gentleman fell suddenly fast asleep; and

the young gentleman, winking upon us to preserve silence, won a pair of gloves from each, thereby causing

them to wake with equal suddenness and to scream very loud. The lively conversation to which this

pleasantry gave rise, lasted for the remainder of the ride, and would have eked out a much longer one.

We dined rather more comfortably than people usually do under such circumstances, nothing having been left

behind but the corkscrew and the bread. The married gentlemen were unusually thirsty, which they

attributed to the heat of the weather; the little boys ate to inconvenience; mammas were very jovial, and their

daughters very fascinating; and the attendants being wellbehaved men, got exceedingly drunk at a respectful

We had our eye on Mr. Balim at dinnertime, and perceived that he flourished wonderfully, being still

surrounded by a little group of young ladies, who listened to him as an oracle, while he ate from their plates

and drank from their glasses in a manner truly captivating from its excessive playfulness. His conversation,

too, was exceedingly brilliant. In fact, one elderly lady assured us, that in the course of a little lively

BADINAGE on the subject of ladies' dresses, he had evinced as much knowledge as if he had been born and

As such of the fat people who did not happen to fall asleep after dinner entered upon a most vigorous game at

ball, we slipped away alone into a thicker part of the wood, hoping to fall in with Mr. Balim, the greater part

of the young people having dropped off in twos and threes and the young ladies' young gentleman among

them. Nor were we disappointed, for we had not walked far, when, peeping through the trees, we discovered

The young ladies' young gentleman was seated upon the ground, at the feet of a few young ladies who were

reclining on a bank; he was so profusely decked with scarfs, ribands, flowers, and other pretty spoils, that he

looked like a lamb or perhaps a calf would be a better simile adorned for the sacrifice. One young lady

supported a parasol over his interesting head, another held his hat, and a third his neckcloth, which in

romantic fashion he had thrown off; the young gentleman himself, with his hand upon his breast, and his face

moulded into an expression of the most honeyed sweetness, was warbling forth some choice specimens of

vocal music in praise of female loveliness, in a style so exquisitely perfect, that we burst into an involuntary

What charming fellows these young ladies' young gentlemen are! Ducks, dears, loves, angels, are all terms

inadequate to express their merit. They are such amazingly, uncommonly, wonderfully, nice men.

As we have placed before the young ladies so many specimens of young gentlemen, and have also in the

dedication of this volume given them to understand how much we reverence and admire their numerous

virtues and perfections; as we have given them such strong reasons to treat us with confidence, and to banish,

in our case, all that reserve and distrust of the male sex which, as a point of general behaviour, they cannot do

better than preserve and maintain we say, as we have done all this, we feel that now, when we have arrived

at the close of our task, they may naturally press upon us the inquiry, what particular description of young

Here we are at a loss. We look over our list, and can neither recommend the bashful young gentleman, nor the

outandout young gentleman, nor the very friendly young gentleman, nor the military young gentleman, nor

the political young gentleman, nor the domestic young gentleman, nor the censorious young gentleman, nor

the funny young gentleman, nor the theatrical young gentleman, nor the poetical young gentleman, nor the

As there are some good points about many of them, which still are not sufficiently numerous to render any

one among them eligible, as a whole, our respectful advice to the young ladies is, to seek for a young

gentleman who unites in himself the best qualities of all, and the worst weaknesses of none, and to lead him

forthwith to the hymeneal altar, whether he will or no. And to the young lady who secures him, we beg to

tender one short fragment of matrimonial advice, selected from many sound passages of a similar tendency,

'The grand affair of your life will be, to gain and preserve the esteem of your husband. Neither goodnature

nor virtue will suffer him to ESTEEM you against his judgment; and although he is not capable of using you

ill, yet you will in time grow a thing indifferent and perhaps contemptible; unless you can supply the loss of

youth and beauty with more durable qualities. You have but a very few years to be young and handsome in

the eyes of the world; and as few months to be so in the eyes of a husband who is not a fool; for I hope you

do not still dream of charms and raptures, which marriage ever did, and ever will, put a sudden end to.'

From the anxiety we express for the proper behaviour of the fortunate lady after marriage, it may possibly be

inferred that the young gentleman to whom we have so delicately alluded, is no other than ourself. Without in

any way committing ourself upon this point, we have merely to observe, that we are ready to receive sealed

offers containing a full specification of age, temper, appearance, and condition; but we beg it to be distinctly

These offers may be forwarded to the Publishers, Messrs. Chapman and Hall, London; to whom all pieces of

plate and other testimonials of approbation from the young ladies generally, are respectfully requested to be