And we also think it might be serviceable towards the great end of putting Gents out altogether, when any one chances to say, “I know a Gent,” to exclaim immediately either “You know a _what_?” in accents of horror, or “You look as if you did!” in a tone of contempt, to bring him to a sense of his miserable position—in whichever way you think will best work upon his feelings. Doudney, Moses, Prew, and Hyams! patrons as ye are of literature generally, and poets especially! by whose influence the taste of the Gents is in some measure guided, help us to effect some little reform! Do not, we beseech you, allow your emblazoned window-tickets to lead this wretched race into such strange ideas respecting the “fashions” as they are wont to indulge in. Abolish all those little pasteboard scutcheons which point out your gaudy fabrics as “Novel,” “The Style,” “Splendid,” “The Thing,” “Parisian,” and the like. Cut their waistcoats, in charity, as if you intended them for gentlemen instead of Gents. Reform your own bills, and appeal not to the sympathies with such wild innovations: and persuade the literary Gent who writes those charming little _brochures_ about your establishments—whispered to be the light contributor to Blackwood’s Magazine—which are presented gratuitously with the periodicals, to lead the minds of the Gents into another channel. Let them no longer imagine that the usual method of dressing of an acknowledged leader of fashion—the gentleman of the greatest taste in England—is in a puckered six-and-threepenny blouse with braid round the pockets (for such is the garment that bears his name), a rainbow-tinted stock, drugget-pattern trowsers, and nine-and-sixpenny broad-brimmed hats. Do this, and send all your present stock to America. Editors of Sporting Papers! you are renowned for obliging courtesy: assist the good work with your able pens, by never allowing the term “Sporting Gent” to appear in your columns, whether he undertakes to drive a pony to death, match his dog to be torn to pieces last in a struggle, or advance a pecuniary inducement for two savages to pummel each other’s heads to jelly. Did you ever see a “Sporting Gent?” You must have done so; and you have noted his coarse hands, his flattened fingers, and dubby nails; his common green coat, his slang handkerchief, and his low hat: his dreary conversation entirely confined to wiredrawn accounts of wagers he has won, and matches he can make for any thing. Never give him a chance of attaining publicity, and he will go out and disappear altogether, leaving the coast clear for gentlemen.