WHAT A GENTLEMAN MAY DO, AND WHAT HE MAY NOT DO. He may carry a brace of partridges, but not a leg of mutton. He may be seen in the omnibus-box at the Opera, but not on the box of an omnibus. He may be seen in a stall inside a theatre, but not at a stall outside one. He may dust another person's jacket, but mustn't brush his own. He may kill a man in a duel, but he mustn't eat peas with his knife. He may thrash a coalheaver, but he mustn't ask twice for soup. He must pay his debts of honour, but he needn't trouble himself about his tradesmen's bills. He may drive a stage-coach, but he mustn't take or carry coppers. He may ride a horse as a jockey, but he mustn't exert himself in the least to get his living. He must never forget what he owes to himself as a gentleman, but he need not mind what he owes as a gentleman to his tailor. He may do anything, or anybody, in fact, within the range of a gentleman—go through the Insolvent Debtors Court, or turn billiard-marker; but he must never on any account carry a brown paper parcel, or appear in the streets without a pair of gloves. [Illustration: THE GENEALOGICAL SHIRT. ] [Illustration] SHIRTICULTURE. A new branch of the Fine Arts has lately flourished, which we do not know how to designate by any better name than SHIRTICULTURE. It is the art of painting on shirts—an art which cannot fail to go to the bosom of every one who enters at all into it. It was a favourite maxim of Buffon, that "_Le style c'est l'homme_." With all due respect to one who dressed animals in the finest language, we beg to say, that nowadays "_La chemise c'est l'homme_." The shirt is the man. Depend upon it, that shortly the particular profession, trade, penchant, or weakness of every one, will be laid bare to the whole world upon his breast. The gent has nearest to his heart a ballet-girl; and the sportsman is immediately detected by the last winner of the Derby peeping through his "Dickey." The noble game of cricket has been got up on a piece of lawn, no bigger than your chest; and we have seen Jack Sheppard breaking through a publican's shirt-front. Rowing matches not unfrequently run down the back of a river swell; and we know a gentleman who never appears on the turf without a whole steeple-chase galloping right over him, with a tremendous hunter jumping over each shoulder. The rage for pictorial shirts will ultimately spread over everybody in the kingdom. Men of noble descent will be drawing out their genealogical tree on a square of fine calico; and admirers of the "Fancy" will be putting their pet bull-dogs into muslin. We shall have heraldic shirts, theatrical shirts, military shirts, archæological and antiquarian shirts, temperance and convivial shirts, and shirts with portraits of puppy-dogs, men, parrots, and women. We shall have artists in shirts, as we have artists in hair;