days they did really reside and in splendour; but all their stint and self-incarceration, so far from awakening pity, only fill us with contempt.  I am afraid that even the complaining tones of our City friend who tells us that in consequence of ’the present unsettled state of the markets’ he has been obliged to make ’great retrenchments’—­which it seems on inquiry consist in putting down one of his carriages and keeping three horses instead of six—­fail to draw the sympathising tear.  Indeed, to a poor man this pretence of suffering on the part of the rich is perhaps even more offensive than their boasts of their prosperity.

On the other hand, when the rich become really poor their case is hard indeed; though, strange to say, we hear little of it.  It is like drowning; there is a feeble cry, a little ineffectual assistance from the bystanders, and then they go under.  It is not a question of pinch with them; they have fallen into the gaping mouth of ruin, and it has devoured them.  If we ever see them again, it is in the second generation as waiters (upon Providence), or governesses, and we say, ’Why, dear me, that was Bullion’s son (or daughter), wasn’t it?’ using the past tense, as if they were dead.  ‘I remember him when he lived in Eaton Square.’  This class of cases rarely comes under the head of ‘genteel poverty.’  They were at the top, and hey presto! by some malignant stroke of fate they are at the bottom; and there they stick.

I don’t believe in bachelors ever experiencing the pinch of poverty; I have heard them complaining of it at the club, while ordering Medina oysters instead of Natives, but, after all, what does it signify even if they were reduced to cockles?  They have no appearances to keep up, and if they cannot earn enough to support themselves they must be poor creatures indeed.

It is the large families of moderate income, who are delicate, and have delicate tastes, that feel the twinge:  and especially the poor girls.  I remember a man, with little care for his personal appearance, of small means but with a very rich sense of humour, describing to me his experiences when staying at a certain ducal house in the country, where his feelings must have been very similar to those of Christopher Sly.  In particular he drew a charming picture of the magnificent attendant who in the morning would put out his clothes for him, which had not been made by Mr. Poole, nor very recently by anybody.  The contempt which he well understood his Grace’s gentleman must have felt for him afforded him genuine enjoyment.  But with young ladies, in a similar position, matters are very different; they have rarely a sense of humour, and certainly none strong enough to counteract the force of a personal humiliation.  I have known some very charming ones, compelled to dress on a very small allowance, who, in certain mansions where they have been occasionally guests, have been afraid to put their boots outside their door, because they were not of the newest, and have trembled when the officious lady’s-maid has meddled with their scanty wardrobe.  A philosopher may think nothing of this, but, considering the tender skin of the sufferer, it may be fairly called a pinch.