Brummel was once present at a party to which he had not been invited.  After he had been some time in the room, the gentleman of the house, willing to mortify him, went up to him and said that he believed that there must be some mistake, as he did not recollect having had the honour of sending him an invitation.  “What is the name?” said the other very drawlingly, at the same time affecting to feel in his waistcoat pocket for a card.  “Johnson,” replied the gentleman.  “Jauhnson?” said Brummel, “oh!  I remember now that the name was Thaunson (Thompson); and Jauhnson and Thaunson, Thaunson and Jauhnson, you know, are so much the same kind of thing.”

Brummel was once asked how much a year he thought would be required to keep a single man in clothes.  “Why, with tolerable economy,” said he, “I think it might be done for L800.”

He once went down to a gentleman’s house in the country, without having been asked to do so.  He was given to understand, the next morning, that his absence would be more agreeable, and he took his departure.  Some one having heard of his discomfiture, asked him how he liked the accommodations there.  He replied coolly, that “it was a very decent house to spend a single night in.”

We have mentioned that this dreaded arbiter of modes had threatened that he would put the prince regent out of fashion.  Alas! for the peace of the British monarch, this was not an idle boast.  His dangerous rival resolved in the unfathomable recesses of a mind capacious of such things, to commence and to carry on a war whose terror and grandeur should astound society, to administer to audacious royalty a lesson which should never be forgotten, and finally to retire, when retire he must, with mementos of his tremendous power around him, and with the mightiest of the earth at his feet.  Inventive and deliberate were the counsels which he meditated; sublime and resolute was the conduct he adopted.  He decided, with an originality of genius to which the conqueror of Marengo might have vailed, that the neck of the foe was the point at which the first fatal shaft of his excommunicating ire should be hurled.  With rapid and decisive energy he concentrated all his powers for instantaneous action.  He retired for a day to the seclusion of solitude, to summon and to spur the energies of the most self-reliant mind in Europe, as the lion draws back to gather courage for the leap.  As, like the lion, he drew back; so, like the lion, did he spring forward upon his prey.  At a ball given by the Duchess of Devonshire, when the whole assembly were conversing upon his supposed disgrace, and insulting by their malevolence one whom they had disgusted by their adulation, Brummel suddenly stood in the midst of them.  Could it be indeed Brummel?  Could it be mortal who thus appeared with such an encincture of radiant glory about his neck?  Every eye was upon him, fixed in stupid admiration; every tongue, as it slowly recovered from