Among those who were thrown into the society of this L--, was a young man, named Briarly, who had rather more basis to his character, and who, although he dressed well, and moved in good society, by no means founded thereon his claim to be called a gentleman. He never liked L--, because he saw that he had no principle whatever; that all about him was mere sham. The consequence was that he was hardly civil to him, a circumstance which L--was slow either to notice or resent. It happened, one day, that the tailor of Briarly asked him if he knew any thing about L--. "Not much," replied Briarly. "Why do you ask?" "Do you think him a gentleman?" "How do you estimate a gentleman?" asked the young man. "A gentleman is a man of honour," returned the tailor. "Very well; then L--must be a gentleman, for he has a great deal to say about his honour." "I know he has; but I find that those who talk much of their honour, don't, as a general thing, possess much to brag of." "Then, he talks to you of his honour?" "Oh, yes; and gives me his word as a gentleman." "Does he always keep his word as a gentleman?" The tailor shrugged his shoulders. "Not always," he replied. "Then I should say that the word of a gentleman isn't worth much," smilingly remarked Briarly. "Not the word of such broadcloth and buckram gentlemen as he is." "Take care what you say, or you may find yourself called to account for using improper language about this gentleman. We may have a duel on the carpet." "It would degrade him to fight with a tailor," replied the man of shears. "So I may speak my mind with impunity. But if he should challenge me, I will refuse to fight him, on the ground that he is no gentleman." "Indeed! How will you prove that?" "Every man must be permitted to have his own standard of gentility." "Certainly." "I have mine." "Ah! Well, how do you measure gentility?" "By my ledger. A man who doesn't pay his tailor's bill, I consider no gentleman. If L--sends me a challenge, I will refuse to fight him on that ground." "Good!" said Briarly, laughing. "I'm afraid, if your standard were adopted, that a great many, who now pass themselves off for gentlemen, would be held in little estimation." "It is the true standard, nevertheless," replied Shears. "A man may try to be a gentleman as much as he pleases, but if he don't try to pay his tailor's bill at the same time, he tries in vain." "You may be right enough," remarked Briarly, a good deal amused at the tailor's mode of estimating a gentleman, and possessed of a new fact in regard to L--'s claim to the honourable distinction of which he so often boasted. Shortly after this, it happened that L--made Briarly angry about something, when the latter very unceremoniously took hold of the handle on the young man's face, and moved his head around.