TUFT-HUNTERS 
 
 AND 
 
 ILLUSTRATED BY H. G- MINE- 
 
 LONDON : 
 
 KENT' & CO., FLEET STREET. 
 
 A>"D PATERNOSTER ROV,\ 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 VERY BODY has 
 
 some natural an- 
 tipathy. There are 
 a great many per- 
 sons of good sense 
 and taste that en- 
 
 tertain a rooted 
 objection to Tra- 
 
 £^w«/,7 " falgar square, and 
 
 its practical jokes denominated fountains, 
 around which the little boys of the metro* 
 
Vi PKEFACE. 
 
 polis love to congregate, and into which the 
 maid-servant threatens to dip the refractory 
 brat which crieth for the what's-his-name at 
 the top of the great column. 
 
 A great many persons dislike the Ethiopian 
 Serenaders, the scenery at the Haymarket 
 Theatre, and the farces at the Princess'. 
 Some very good people have a cordial de- 
 testation for Joinville ties, halfpenny steam- 
 packets, " gents," and amateur performances 
 at the Olympic; and there are equally re- 
 spectable persons who shun railway specula- 
 tors, Cheap Clothing Marts, and tariff pine 
 apples. "We do not affect singularity, but 
 have our antipathies too, and first and foremost 
 of those antipathies, an unmitigated detesta- 
 tion of, and hostility against all Tuft-hunters 
 whatsoever. 
 
 Most people have heard of Tuft-hunters, 
 
PREFACE. Vli 
 
 and are aware that " Tuft" means a nobleman, 
 and " Tuft-hunter" a hunter after noblemen 
 at the university. For as every class must 
 
 have its badge in a well regulated com- 
 munity, there is as much necessity for a gilt 
 tassel to distinguish a nobleman from a scholar, 
 
viii PREFACE. 
 
 as for the mysterious numbers worn by cab- 
 men and police-officers. 
 
 But it is a tremendous mistake to suppose 
 that Tuft-hunting is confined to Oxford and 
 Cambridge. Quite the contrary; Tuft-hunters 
 are sent thither ready made, and only find 
 their name and their victims in the univer- 
 sities. This practice is as universal as every 
 other species of " humbug;" and since humbug 
 is as easily found in an inscription of the 
 Pharaohs at Memphis, or at the summit of 
 Pompey's pillar, as in " French in six lessons," 
 or " a new political romance by the Author 
 
 of ," so Tuft-hunters, like fungi of 
 
 every species, spring up and ripen in every 
 part of the world. They are coeval and co- 
 existent with the great family of the " toadies," 
 but, like them, they are a family which anti- 
 quity could never make respectable. 
 
PREFACE. ix 
 
 Walk down the streets of London, and they 
 are almost as great a nuisance as the wood- 
 pavement, or the milliners in Cranbourn alley 
 of old. Some of them stare you into stupe- 
 faction, and others, if you know them, oblige 
 ou with a nod of so doubtful a character, that 
 ou remain uncertain whether to acknowledge 
 and return the salutation, or kick the person 
 who offers it. There is the Tuft-hunter in 
 ull feather, dressed out like a fashionable 
 ose-plastique, and there is the seedy Tuft- 
 unter, dressed like a poet, and looking as if 
 e had been to the gallery of her Majesty's 
 heatre to hear Jenny Lind the night before, 
 nter the shops, and you see Tuft-hunters on 
 oth sides of the counter, and it is difficult to 
 ell which are most obsequious to their Tufts, 
 r insolent to the rest of the world. In Bond 
 treet, we find riding Tuft-hunters; in Regent 
 
X PREFACE. 
 
 street and the Arcade, gambling and swagger- 
 ing Tuft-hunters: enter a fashionable divan or 
 coffee-house, and we find the dinner-hunting, 
 cigar-smoking, do-anything species in full 
 force. Go to Pimlico, and we find military 
 Tuft-hunters, who make calls in Sloane street 
 and Cadogan place, and talk of Belgrave and 
 Grosvenor. Enter the Parks, and you find 
 specimens of all the species congregated 
 together, and each plying trade in his peculiar 
 " line." There, especially, you will see the 
 perfumed Tuft-hunter on a horse, leaning 
 three quarters out of his saddle, in order to 
 talk to Lady Divinella Curricle, or bending 
 forward to talk (and be seen talking) with 
 the Right Honourable Augustus Fitz-Diddle. 
 Oh! the Tuft-hunters, like the flies in sum- 
 mer, are everywhere. 
 
 Those persons, then, who read these pages 
 
PREFACE. Xi 
 
 with the expectation of finding a mere lam- 
 poon upon our universities, will be agreeably 
 (or disagreeably) disappointed: and they will 
 find that we, having roamed through nations 
 of men and kingdoms of pen and ink, and 
 having, unlike the knights-errant of old, dis- 
 covered our monsters, shall forthwith proceed 
 to drag them from their security, and kill 
 them — on paper, to the best of our ability. 
 
THE NATURAL HISTORY 
 
 OF 
 
 TUFT-HUNTERS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 OF TUFT-HUNTERS IN GENERAL. 
 
 % hen this most unfor- 
 tunate race of mor- 
 tals was proposed as 
 a subject for our pen, 
 we felt inclined to 
 weep heartily at the 
 task, and to leave the 
 wretched troop of 
 Tuft-hunters to the 
 mercy of some writer 
 possessed of more 
 gall, and a larger as- 
 sortment of iron pens 
 than ourselves. But 
 
14 
 
 THE TUFT-HUNTERS. 
 
 we reflected upon the act of philanthropy we 
 should perform in tearing away one, at least, 
 of the masks under which the defects of 
 society lie hidden, and being, like Charles 
 Surface, " of a communicative disposition," 
 we determined to lay our experience, and 
 its results, before the eyes of the rising gene- 
 ration. 
 
 The Tuft-hunter is a creature of relative, 
 not actual, existence; and is, therefore, a most 
 anomalous and uneven animal to deal with. 
 In the general run of society he is an exagge- 
 rated " bore," and partakes of the qualities of 
 most different and dissimilar characters. In 
 manners he is partly gentleman, partly gent, 
 and struts with an ample display of vulgar 
 assumption, while he betrays a moderate know- 
 ledge of the small talk, habits, and lounges of 
 the higher classes. But in the society of 
 noblemen his vulgar assurance generally de- 
 serts him, and changes into a dandyish kind of 
 servility; and as wax melts when it approaches 
 
THE TUFT-HUNTERS. 
 
 15 
 
 the fire, so our Tuft-hunter is a nuisance, if 
 not a bully, in middle-class society, but col- 
 lapses into a very figurante of complaisance in 
 presence of the dreaded Tuft. 
 
 His most leading characteristic is an entire 
 freedom from anything like a taste or opinion 
 of his own. We have heard Tuft-hunters 
 praise the Wellington Statue, and declare 
 Westminster Bridge perfectly convenient and 
 useful, simply because their Tuft had said so 
 in the House the day before. We have heard 
 thousands of Tuft-hunters express their im- 
 plicit confidence in the New Poor Laws from 
 a like reason; and we even know some of 
 that unhappy species, who admire the archi- 
 tecture of Buckingham Palace. But of this 
 hereafter. 
 
 The talents of the Tuft-hunter are doubtless 
 great — in their way, but his perseverance is 
 much greater. One of them has assured us on 
 his honour (and we believe it on this occasion) 
 that he was ordered out of the room twenty- 
 
16 
 
 THE TUFT-HUNTERS. 
 
 seven times, kicked out fifteen times, "cut" 
 three hundred times, and snubbed five hundred 
 and ninety-seven more, before he got a single 
 
 invitation to dinner with a lord. At length, a 
 young Irish peer, who had been " cut" by all 
 his own equals, and therefore possessed a fel- 
 low feeling, took pity upon our Tuft-hunter, 
 
asked him to dinner, and, in the most bland 
 and condescending manner, borrowed fifty 
 pounds. Our acquaintance lent it with the most 
 rapturous delight; but as he took care to tell 
 all his friends of the condescending behaviour 
 of his Lordship, he was, in a few years, ruined 
 by similar loans. He now looks very seedy, 
 and dresses more so, but yet finds a melan- 
 choly satisfaction in the consciousness of hav- 
 ing lost his money aristocratically; for it is a 
 strange fact, that although men seldom impute 
 their good deeds or fortune to the influence of 
 society, they are most liberal in charging it 
 with the weight and blame of their vices or 
 misfortunes, and find that to moralize upon the 
 influence of the world is a comfortable salvo 
 for the little command they possess over them- 
 selves. 
 
 Although Ben Jonson has written enough 
 on " Every man in or out of his own humour," 
 I Ave much doubt if any five-act play, even of 
 [ the Elizabethan length, would include all the 
 
18 
 
 THE TUFT-HUNTERS. 
 
 humours of a Tuft-hunter. He is a species of 
 Peripatetic weather-cock, and is turned in an 
 
 instant by the breath of his Tuft. If his 
 lordship feel tired, the Tuft-hunter imme- 
 diately declares talking "a bore;" if his lord- 
 ship wish for amusement, he rattles as fast as 
 Charles Mathews in a farce. If Lord Heavi- 
 
THE TUFT-HUNTERS. 
 
 19 
 
 swelle yawns, he immediately twitches his 
 muscles, and writhes in all the pride of being 
 permitted to yawn in company with a lord. 
 Then, if Viscount Listless, being facetiously 
 disposed, should abuse anything or anybody, 
 
 • even if it be his own nearest relation (Tuft- 
 hunters never have friends), he laughs heartily 
 at the fun of the thing, and wonders how he 
 ever came to feel affection or respect for what 
 a lord despises. 
 
 The same spirit of imitation leads him to 
 dress "at" every nobleman he sees; and we 
 well remember a very dazzling specimen of the 
 breed, who informed us that his waistcoat was 
 cut out of the very same piece with that of the 
 Duke of Truffles, that his coat, (or whatever 
 it was, whether horse-cloth, paletot, or rug,) 
 was made after the last Parisian cut, as intro- 
 
 i duced by Lord Cutemoute, and that his boots 
 
 were fellows to the last new pair of the Right 
 
 Honourable Archibald Pinchumme. 
 
 I His position in society is even more doubt- 
 
 b 2 
 
20 
 
 THE TUFT-HUNTERS. 
 
 fill than his humours. Respectable people don't 
 know him, and his aristocratic acquaintance 
 won't, unless it be for some purpose of their 
 own. He seems to hang between two stages 
 of society, never ascends, but often comes 
 down; or, if he do make a momentary ascent, 
 his progress only resembles that of a globule 
 issuing from the clay pipe of some juvenile 
 practitioner in science, which swells and rises, 
 but becoming too big for itself, and too weak 
 for the surrounding atmosphere, breaks and 
 dissipates. 
 
 Nothing shows the contemptible nature of 
 the Tuft-hunter more than the impossibility 
 of getting any man to avow himself such in 
 public. Jonathan Wild, Jack Sheppard, and a 
 few other characters quite as respectable and 
 useful as some Tuft-hunters, boasted of their 
 profession, and gloried in their infamy. But 
 what Tuft-hunter will do this? 
 
 When we see the rich Tuft-hunter exchang- 
 ing his hard-earned gold for the courtly smiles 
 
THE TUFT-HUNTERS. 
 
 21 
 
 and private sneers of the old and worn-out 
 peer, or the green and budding profligate of 
 nobility, it calls to our mind the memory of a 
 rich grocer, who got knighted, took a house of 
 unexampled height, and commenced the pro- 
 fession of gentleman by cutting all his former 
 acquaintances, for fear of meeting them when 
 he had a duke or an earl upon his arm. The 
 friends were quickly lost, but the dukes and 
 earls were never found. 
 
 In fact, the largest number of Tuft-hunters 
 springs from the hot-bed of traffic — where gold 
 is sown in the pockets of greenhorns and 
 country cousins, and reaped tenfold by the 
 speculator — London. The rich parvenu, ex- 
 ulting in his new-made greatness, which be- 
 seemeth him as much as a decent suit of clothes 
 becometh a " gent," struts forth with " Baro- 
 net" ticketed on every look and gesture, an 
 " plum" written on every smile. But still he 
 has not reached the height of things; his 
 neighbours are only what he tvas ; they num- 
 
22 
 
 THE TUFT-HUNTERS. 
 
 ber no proxies in the House, no close boroughs 
 as family property, no emblazoned specimens 
 of heraldic ingenuity. No, he must cut his 
 old associates, and turn Tuft-hunter. And 
 what does he gain by this? Is he less a trades- 
 man than before? Assuredly not; he is still a 
 tradesman, a dealer in self, a wholesale pro- 
 fligate of his own character, a bankrupt in re- 
 putation, and a false coinage passed current 
 upon society. 
 
 What, then, is the motive for Tuft-hunting? 
 If this question be asked, there can be but one 
 answer: " I may be taken for a lord or a great 
 man. because I associate with such." This is 
 as great a mistake as reading a novel by 
 Eugene Sue for amusement. A man's respec- 
 tability depends upon himself, and he cannot 
 expect to enter society in order to obtain a 
 character, but must possess a character in order 
 to be fit to enter society. 
 
 But as we have stated that Tuft-hunting, 
 
THE TUFT-HUNTERS. 
 
 23 
 
 like its great parent Humbug, is not confined 
 to class or country, we will forthwith lay be- 
 fore our readers a description of some forms, 
 under which Tuft-hunting and Tuft-hunters 
 are most frequently developed. 
 
CHAPTER IT. 
 
 OF TUFT-HUNTING FAMILIES. 
 
 ur friend, Sir Jeames 
 Sawduste, Baronet, and 
 his lovely family, fur- 
 nish a choice example 
 of a house of Tuft- 
 hunters. While Sir 
 J eames lends money 
 to noblemen, who dine 
 with him in return, 
 Lady Sawduste calls on all the Peeresses who 
 will return the visit, and on some who won't. 
 Miss Clarinetta Sawduste screams " Vedrai 
 car'ino" in a voice resembling a whistle on 
 the Great Western, while the Risrht Honour- 
 
THE TUFT-HUNTERS. 
 
 25 
 
 able Adolphe Auguste Fribble standeth by, 
 and sayeth, " Bra — vo," and thinketh of the 
 
 thousands which chink in her father's pockets, 
 and his own debts on the turf. Meantime, 
 
26 
 
 THE TUFT-HUNTERS. 
 
 Miss Laurinetta Albonetta Julia Sawduste 
 worketh portraits of Lord Brougham in Berlin 
 Wool, and the youngest sister, Floretta Lucilla 
 Sawduste, writeth small notes on small scented 
 
 paper, requesting the pleasure, honour, and 
 condescension of the Dowager Duchess of 
 Plushington's company at a dejeuner the next 
 morning. 
 
THE TUFT-HUNTERS. 
 
 27 
 
 We called upon them one day, and were 
 really diverted at the strange mixture of 
 affected fashion and real vulgarity they ex- 
 hibited. At our entrance, the footman honoured 
 
 us with a fixed stare, 
 and having, in King's 
 Bench parlance, 
 " taken our portrait," 
 for fear of our clan- 
 
 destinely removing 
 the hall chairs and 
 umbrella-stand, he 
 stared next at our 
 'f&> card; much scanda- 
 lized at finding it was 
 neither a lord nor an 
 earl, he tripped up 
 stairs with prodi- 
 gious celerity. After 
 we had waited sufft- 
 ciently long to feel 
 that " marble halls," however some people 
 
28 
 
 THE TUFT-HUNTERS. 
 
 may wish to dwell in them even in their 
 dreams, are very cold during the brisk month 
 of November, the aristocratic patent foot- 
 man returned, and with a slight unbending, 
 of collar and manners, ushered us into a room 
 much too large to be comfortable, and filled 
 with furniture which had been bought merely 
 because it was expensive, and recommended 
 by the Countess of Druggetsfield. 
 
 After conversing a great deal about nothing 
 for ten minutes, the Tufts were introduced 
 with a most delicate touch of science, and a 
 most amusing affectation of accident in men- 
 tioning the names of great people. " I beg 
 your pardon, Sir," says the wife, " but will you 
 allow me to answer a slight note from Lady 
 Cheapside?" " Oh, Mr. H. will excuse you, 
 my dear!" says the husband, "and you had 
 better say that we shall be at the Lord Chief 
 Baron's this evening, and tell her Ladyship 
 that Lord Beaubelle looked very well at the 
 Duchess' the other day." It is impossible to 
 
THE TUFT-HUNTERS. 
 
 29 
 
 conceive a quieter way of informing visitors 
 that you are acquainted with a Chief Baron, a 
 Ladyship, a Lord, and a Duchess. Even the 
 old tricks of a pier looking-glass stuck with 
 cards procured from a stationer's, and a salver 
 to carry in the tradesmen's bills, must yield to 
 this graceful aristocracy per accidens. 
 
 The letter, the Chief Baron, the Ladyship, 
 the Lord, and the Duchess being dispatched, 
 our hostess proceeded to entertain us with an 
 enumeration of the different presents of hot- 
 house grapes, pine- apples, French clocks, 
 and sweetmeats sent by herself to all the no- 
 bility that would accept them. She then 
 launched out into a pleasing description of the 
 juvenile wit of the heir-apparent, who was so 
 exclusive in his society at Eton! Poor boy: 
 we afterwards found that his mates were the 
 exclusive party, and that he was the ex- 
 cluded. 
 
 At length, the house was thrown into an 
 awkward and graceless confusion by a most 
 
30 
 
 THE TUFT-HUNTERS. 
 
 unmistakeable West-End rap at the street- 
 door. Miss Clarinetta nearly fell over the 
 music stool in rushing to one window, Miss 
 Floretta upset the inkstand upon the rich 
 white ground of the carpet, in running to 
 another; Lady Sawduste discomposed her 
 turban, her lapdog, and herself with a sudden 
 start, and Sir Jeames shuffled to-and~fro, and 
 tried to look unconcerned and self-possessed. 
 But that was in vain — the Countess of Baden 
 Wells had arrived, in company with her 
 charming daughters, and the gay Count 
 Loveticque, whom she had " taken up" from 
 the perfumer's opposite. Finding that we, 
 with our quiet dress, plain manners, and igno- 
 rance of the Peerage and Drawing-room, were 
 likely to prove a " bore," we pleaded an ex- 
 cuse, and went to call upon our friends the 
 Jones, in a rather retired quarter between 
 Baker street and Camden Town. 
 
 Mr. Chandos Fitzwilliam Davenport Jones 
 
THE TUFT-HUNTERS. 
 
 31 
 
 was a respectable man with a government 
 situation worth seven hundred a-year, nine 
 children, a governess, and a ten-roomed house. 
 There are a great many such in the world, 
 very good people in their way, but generally 
 " slow" and unpretending. Mr. Chandos Fitz- 
 william Davenport Jones was neither; he kept 
 a " turn-out," dined with a Lord, a very dis- 
 tant relation, twice a year, and christened all 
 his children after the most fashionable names 
 of nobility. In fact, he seemed anxious to 
 wash out the bitter name of " Jones" by a 
 thick layer of aristocratic Christian names, 
 and, as a necessary consequence, half the world 
 could neither write, read, nor spell half the 
 epithets of the Jones family. 
 
 Mr. Chandos Fitzwilliam Davenport Jones 
 was sitting in a " too luxurious easy chair" 
 when we entered. He rose, and received us 
 with a bow savouring strongly of Pecksniff 
 and Walter Lacy. His lady made a languid 
 
32 THE TUFT-HUNTERS. 
 
 apology for not rising, and declared that her 
 nerves were in such a state of excitement, that 
 she knew not what to do, especially as she 
 had lost the recipe given her by Lady Cologne. 
 The elder daughters were picking an old satin 
 dress to pieces, in order to convert it into pin- 
 cushions for a fancy fair, and the younger ones 
 were tearing up an old Peerage to make paper 
 matches. From the yawning of the sons, we 
 concluded that a family lecture was going on, 
 and we were right. 
 
 In fact, Master, Ave mean Mr., De Vernon 
 Plantagenet Jones, the eldest, and hopeful son 
 of the family, was going to college the next 
 day, and every member of the Jones family 
 felt themselves bound to give him some good 
 advice on his bearing in the little world he 
 was to enter. His father told him to take care 
 of his money, that is, to spend it only in first- 
 rate society, and to be sure and get a Double 
 First; his sisters entreated him to dress well, 
 
T1IK TUTT-HUNTKRS. 
 
 33 
 
 and invite them at Commemoration; his 
 mother, who had been reading " Lays of a 
 young Jesuit," by a popular preacher, be- 
 sought him to beware of the Pope and May- 
 nooth; but all agreed in exhorting him to keep 
 
 c 
 
34 
 
 THE TUFT-HUNTERS. 
 
 "tip-top" society, and to try and get ac- 
 quainted with the nobility. Thus was Mr. 
 De Vernon Plantagenet Jones set forth a 
 Tuft-hunter at once^ — how he succeeded in 
 that capacity, will be seen in our next chapter. 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 OF AN UNIVERSITY TUFT-HUNTER. 
 
 ur young gentle- 
 man was now ar- 
 rived at college. In 
 the course of the 
 journey he had for- 
 gotten the best part 
 of the advice he had 
 received, but re- 
 solved to dress well, 
 and associate with 
 noblemen. In a place where the tailors " tick" 
 to eternity, the first of these proceedings was 
 
 c 2 
 
36 
 
 THE TUFT-HUNTERS. 
 
 easy, and in three weeks our young "gent" 
 (for he was fast relapsing into that abbre- 
 viated state of name and existence) had as 
 many waistcoats as his tailors showed pat- 
 terns, and had a coat to match that of every 
 nobleman in the university. 
 
 But about the second point there was con- 
 siderable difficulty. It is not fashionable even 
 out of the university, for men to slap one 
 another on the back, and " old fellow" and 
 " old boy" one another in the space of a few 
 weeks. A much shorter time, indeed, is re- 
 quisite for a friendship on the stage, but if we 
 reflect how soon that is broken, we shall feel 
 the truth of the old objection to hasty friend- 
 ships in general. 
 
 Our young Tuft-hunter discovered this very 
 quickly. He couldn't go up to the dreaded 
 gold tassel with a familiar nod, and a " glad 
 to know you, proud of your acquaintance;" 
 and he felt almost as much afraid of a noble- 
 
THE TUFT-HUNTERS. 
 
 37 
 
 man on his staircase, as of the approaching 
 terminal examination at " Collections." But 
 there is no knowing what human perseverance 
 will achieve when the purpose is improper. 
 By dint of breakfasts, suppers, cigars after 
 breakfast, and throwing the plaster effigies of 
 popular characters out of his window, and other 
 whimsical habits, our young " gent" began to 
 seem a " fast" man. This, though no recom- 
 mendation to his tutor, was eagerly appre- 
 ciated by some aristocratic heroes of his very 
 "small" college, and he at length was com- 
 pletely " stodged" by a real bona-Jide Tuft 
 asking him to breakfast. Although this Tuft 
 was of late creation, and had more of the blood 
 of Smithfield in him than of the Plantagenets 
 or the Conqueror, yet he was a Tuft, and that 
 was sufficient. 
 
 But our Tuft knew too well what his no- 
 bility had cost his grandfather, to be at all dis- 
 posed to retail it at a cheap rate, and his con- 
 
38 
 
 THE TUFT-HUNTERS. 
 
 cessions were always tempered with the good- 
 natured ease of a Chinese mandarin, who nods 
 graciously to every one, but always honours 
 them with a fixed stare, lest they should be 
 tempted by his condescension to grow fami- 
 liar. 
 
 Our young Tuft-hunter was now a doubtful 
 animal, an ill-digested mixture of gentleman 
 and footman. Sometimes he thought it rather 
 
THE TUFT-HUNTERS. 
 
 troublesome to be patronised, but then be re- 
 solved to satisfy his feelings by patronising 
 every body else. The consequence of this 
 was a summons from his tailor, who suspected 
 that his peculiar style of politeness covered an 
 inability to pay, and a smile, and subsequent 
 " cut" from all his reputable friends. 
 
 At length, a " lark" in which the Tuft and 
 his hunter took part, produced the expulsion 
 of both. But its effects were very different 
 upon each. The Tuft was well supported by 
 wealth, but his hunter had run over a respect- 
 able parish functionary in his expenditure 
 very often, and left Alma Mater in crippled 
 circumstances. He had, however, so implicit a 
 faith in nobility, that he assured his family 
 that nothing was more " brickish" than expul- 
 sion, and that it would save him an anxious 
 walk in the Pig Market,* further comforting 
 
 * The cloisters under the Bodleian, where candidates 
 "funk" previously to the puhlic examination, and amidst 
 the compassionate exhortations of their friends to " keep 
 the pecker up." 
 
40 
 
 THE TUFT-HUNTERS. 
 
 them with the assurance that had he stayed, 
 he should never have got his Degree; to the 
 truth of which assertion all who knew him 
 bore evidence. 
 
 But although he had given up what he never 
 intended to pursue, he was by no means dis- 
 posed to lay aside his darling profession. The 
 little gold tassel glittered still before his eyes, 
 and he followed it with as much pertinacity 
 as if it had been a mysterious, unsociable sort 
 of ghost in a melodrama. Tuft and Tuft- 
 hunter seemed to have grown necessary to 
 each other, and the one felt almost as much 
 pleasure in flattering, as the other in being 
 flattered. Mr. De Vernon Plantagenet Jones 
 still spends half the year at Codsheade Villa, 
 and the rest in a seedy, half-gent, half-snob 
 style in town. Sometimes we have seen him 
 driving a very shady cab down Bond street, 
 and sometimes riding a horse of seven-and-six- 
 penny appearance on the margin of Piccadilly. 
 Of late he groweth older, and seemeth more 
 
THE TUFT-HUNTERS. 
 
 41 
 
 seedy, whence we conclude that business be- 
 gins to grow unprofitable, and that he will 
 gradually collapse into a mere " gent," and 
 talk of Lords as things that once were. 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 OF PROFESSIONAL TUFT HUNTERS. 
 
 L T H O U G H tllC 
 
 abstract idea of 
 Tuft-hunting is 
 generally associ- 
 ated with a large 
 amount of listless 
 laziness and a 
 would-if-it-could- 
 be aristocratic 
 ease, yet there are 
 few professions in which it is not an ingre- 
 dient. Indeed, if we bear in mind its close 
 relation to " humbug," and consider how much 
 professions owe to the latter, it will require 
 
THE TUFT-HUNTERS. 
 
 43 
 
 little sagacity to perceive that Tuft-hunting is 
 at all events a large ingredient in the com- 
 position of the law, physic, and other recon- 
 dite sciences. 
 
 It is amusing to see a young " gent " hunt 
 Tufts at college, in order to " doctor " them, 
 when the addition to his name of two ominous- 
 looking initials shall have given him legal right 
 to cure, kill, and anatomize her Majesty's ser- 
 vants (we don't mean the players of the Na- 
 tional Theatre), as occasion may demand. 
 And then, what a sleek and dapper creature 
 is the fashionable physician! With words and 
 step as regular as the plaits of his own shirt- 
 front, he trips lightly into the room, where 
 the Lady Belvidera Belinda Fitzlanguish re- 
 clines gracefully on the graceful fauteuil, and 
 sighs forth her piteous complaint in scraps 
 from " La Figlia " of last night. The doctor 
 waits till the notes of Donizetti die away in 
 the pastilled breeze of the boudoir, and taking 
 off his faultless glove, feels the fair pulse that 
 
44 
 
 THE TUFT-HUNTERS. 
 
 never beats to any but an operatic sorrow. 
 Nothing the matter, but the doctor — we mean 
 the physician — dare not say so. Too well he 
 knows that fair nobility is seldom well except 
 when interestingly ill; and so he prescribes 
 rest to one who never works, nourishment to 
 one who never has an appetite through excess 
 of luxury, and a little healthy excitement to 
 one who sees fearful melo-dramatic operas 
 three times a week, and turns night into day 
 during the rest. 
 
 And then the doctor goes to another fashion- 
 able patient, an old Lord, one whom the ladies 
 call a " naughty " man. He is in great dis- 
 tress because the gout prevented his attend- 
 ing the ballet last night, and is reading in 
 the Morning Post an eloquent description 
 of Mademoiselle Skipjinnie's pirouettes and 
 flying leaps. The doctor good naturedly ral- 
 lies the old gallant, and gives him advice that 
 none but a Tuft-hunter could give. They 
 
THE TUFT-HUNTERS. 45 
 
 laugh, and chat, the doctor flatters, and the 
 | old Lord chuckles, till at last a sudden twitch 
 produces a grimace quite as inimitable as one 
 
 of Far r en's as Lord Ogleby, and flannels and 
 hot water put Giselle and Undine out of all 
 thought or imagination. 
 
 f 
 
46 
 
 THE TUFT-HUNTERS. 
 
 But the Tuft-hunting Lawyer! Here, in- 
 deed, we have the quintessence of all Tuftyism. 
 A quiet, plain, and neatly-finished personage, 
 with small eyes, and a back literally bent by 
 the numerous bows made daily to his Tuft. 
 His suit is black; he goes regularly to the 
 parish church which his Tuft's tenantry fre- 
 quent, and reads the clerk out of countenance. 
 He never smiles except when his Lordship 
 hazards a joke, and keeps his countenance so 
 well under command, that you would almost 
 think each feature and muscle had been sepa- 
 rately drilled to the service. He is the reputed 
 enemy of farmers and tenants, although he 
 shakes hands with both on a canvassing day; 
 for that is a great day for your Tuft-hunting 
 lawyer. He knows every disqualification in 
 a voter for the opposition, every qualification 
 of the Lord for whom he canvasses; no flaw 
 in the election of a political opponent can 
 escape him, and for a little bit of delicate 
 indirect bribery, no one can surpass him. He 
 
THE TUFT-HUNTERS. 
 
 47 
 
 it is who gives twenty pounds for a couple of 
 terrier puppies, because he lias taken a fancy, 
 not to them, but to the vote of the chandler, 
 whose wife sells them. He it is who gives ten 
 pounds to the younger son in corduroys to buy 
 cakes with. The younger son cries when the 
 money is taken away from him as soon as the 
 lawyer's back is turned, and, poor fellow ! sees 
 no policy at all in such conduct. Then the 
 Tuft-hunting lawyer " coaches " his Lordship 
 in little matters of politics, jurisprudence, and 
 patriotism. He writes paragraphs in county 
 journals, and " supports" his Lordship on the 
 hustings. To say the truth, this class of 
 Tuft-hunters, half lawyer, half politician, does 
 more real work than any other species, and, 
 from the ascendancy they acquire, these men 
 are most frequently rewarded by subordinate 
 situations, in which they are likely to be use- 
 ful, without becoming powerful enough to be 
 independent. 
 
 But political Tuft-hunting is not confined 
 
48 
 
 THE TUFT-HUNTERS. 
 
 to lawyers; on the contrary, authors and 
 editors are but too readily disposed to regard 
 "men" rather than "measures;" but such 
 matters are too dull for our present subject. 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 OF TUFT-HUNTING AUTHORS. 
 
 is curious, but never- 
 theless a fact, that 
 scarcely a novel is 
 written, but the 
 heroes and heroines 
 are all aristocratic. 
 The writer, perhaps, 
 lives in the fifth 
 story of a house in 
 some retired court 
 in London, with no 
 prospect but the 
 chimney - pots and 
 tiles, varied by an 
 
50 
 
 THE TUFT-HUNTERS* 
 
 occasional discharge of smoke from a neigh- 
 bouring brewery, or by the picturesque evolu- 
 tions of some linen on a line, shaken by a breeze 
 replete with the villanous compound of tobacco, 
 gas, and other elements of London existence. 
 A dull sound of traffic below, resembling the 
 distant roar of the sea, is agreeably diversified 
 by the wrangling altercation of two cats on 
 opposite roofs, and the occasional rattling of a 
 broom in a chimney pot. The room is small 
 and dingy -looking, and its furniture arranged 
 in that peculiar style known only to authors. 
 The breakfast things remain till tea time in a 
 hapless and uncomfortable confusion. The 
 floor is covered with books, play-bills, and 
 perhaps half blocked up by a gigantic clothes' 
 basket filled with the memoranda of genius. 
 The chimney-piece is adorned with rough 
 sketches to illustrate imaginary works, bills of 
 laundresses, letters from publishers, and an 
 invitation card from the Dramatic Authors' 
 
THE TUFT-HUNTERS. 
 
 51 
 
 Society. In this dull room, and by that meagre, 
 pale object in the dirty and ill-arranged robe- 
 de-chambre, are those fashionable novels con- 
 cocted, in which not a single creature men- 
 tioned has less than four thousand a year. It 
 is surprising that from this dismal room and 
 more wretched prospect, marble halls and 
 bronzed staircases, gilt equipages and luxu- 
 rious opera boxes, should be conceived. Here 
 is a man who never sees any woman from his 
 window but the virago laundress next door, 
 and yet forms on paper legions of beauty, 
 clothed in the raiment of fashion, and petted 
 and spoiled by the luxury of home or the 
 flattery of the world. Such is the spirit of 
 Tuftyism, that a man will rather associate his 
 mind and pen with ideal peers and peeresses, 
 than condescend to write on real, subjects 
 within his own experience; and hence spring 
 the amusing ideas of nobility on the stage, 
 where we see such images of aristocracy as can 
 
 r> 2 
 
52 THE TUFT-HUNTERS. 
 
 only arise from a Tuft-hunting determination 
 that a nobleman and a couple of baronets are 
 essential to the formation of a comedy. And 
 what is the stage nobility of such writers? 
 
 "What was never witnessed in the family of any 
 nobleman fit for the hero of a drama. Men 
 
THE TUFT-HUNTERS. 
 
 53 
 
 without dignity, whose whole wit consists in 
 the length of their waistcoats and the short- 
 ness of their coats, flippant young ladies ready 
 to run off with every sharper or trifler the 
 fertile mind of the author chooses to create, 
 speculating dowagers and scandalous widows 
 make up the repertoire of our fashionable 
 comedy. It is said that genteel comedy is 
 growing out of fashion. Not so; it is that 
 comedies begin to lack gentility, and we, for 
 our part, would rather listen to a really clever 
 and brilliant farce or a dashing extravaganza, 
 than to a namby-pamby string of five farces, 
 yclept a comedy, but destitute of character or 
 connexion. 
 
 But among all slow things, and they are 
 pretty numerous, nothing can equal a novel 
 written with" a merely aristocratic tone. Punch 
 has done so much of late towards reducing 
 such books to their proper level, that we will 
 let them alone; but not before we give a table 
 
54 
 
 THE TUFT-HUNTERS. 
 
 of the essentials for a real Tuft-hunting novel. 
 They run as follows: 
 
 Two noblemen, with ruined fortunes and 
 flourishing debts. 
 
 Two sons of ditto, who have expensive and 
 aristocratic tastes, without the means of gra- 
 tifying them. 
 
 Two rich heiresses, of rather city parentage, 
 with money enough to satisfy anybody, and 
 pay any debts on earth. 
 
 Two card-playing duchesses, to make mis- 
 chief. 
 
 Two benevolent anybodies, to counteract 
 the card-playing duchesses. 
 
 Twelve pounds of small talk and twaddle. 
 
 Twenty-four French phrases, such as blase, 
 parbleu, au revoir, allons, and a couple of 
 titles from Italian operas. 
 
 Two or three houses in fashionable squares. 
 
 St. George's Church, Hanover-square, for 
 a conclusion. 
 
THE TUFT-HUNTERS. 
 
 55 
 
 And a little — mind, a very little — fraction 
 of common sense, just sufficient to make people 
 wonder how it got into such company. 
 
 What shall we say of Tuft-hunting journals 
 and paragraph writers? Truly they belong 
 to the worst order of Tuft-hunting, since they 
 detail facts under so artificial a covering, that 
 they sometimes extend their own absurdities 
 to the world at large. It is really too bad, 
 that a title should hinder a lady from wearing 
 a dress at a ball, without it being deliberately 
 unpicked on paper for the amusement of small 
 Tufties. It is too bad that the " leader " should 
 be shrivelled up, the " Answers to Corres- 
 pondents " postponed, and important intelli- 
 gence omitted or rendered unintelligibly brief, 
 in order to inform us of the number of grouse 
 killed by Lord Blunderbuss, or to make way 
 for illustrations of a progress through half-a- 
 dozen country towns. 
 
 The palmy days of prefaces and dedications 
 are gone by; no one will read the former, or 
 
56 
 
 THE TUFT-HUNTERS. 
 
 pay for the latter; and in this respect at 
 least we may congratulate ourselves on being 
 wiser than our forefathers, which is a great 
 comfort. 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 OF SOME HABITS OF TUFT-HUNTERS. 
 
 \Y / hen we had put 
 
 -- ^jj f^ this title to our 
 
 ^|| Bl^in^ I ' chapter, we felt 
 
 tf%W&^ ^ ^r~~ surprised at our 
 
 IP} '* wondered what 
 ^»l^^?r-^^^^^p could have made 
 ' ~ us think of at- 
 
 tempting to 
 
 de- 
 scribe the habits 
 of a set of men, who have really no habits 
 but those of their Tufts, and whose disposi- 
 tions must therefore be perpetually on the 
 change, and as impossible to discover, as the 
 use of the Strand Theatre, or the meaning 
 of some speeches at Exeter Hall. 
 
58 
 
 THE TUFT-HUNTERS. 
 
 Our zeal, however, in hunting out Tuft- 
 hunters compelled us to observe certain traits 
 of character, and certain habits, which will 
 enable our readers to distinguish them with 
 tolerable accuracy, and to shun and persecute 
 them accordingly. 
 
 In the first place, a Tuft-hunter is never at 
 ease. If he is in the society of inferiors or 
 equals, he is uncomfortable, because he is not 
 surrounded by noblemen. If he is in com- 
 pany with his Tuft, he is equally ill at ease, 
 and dreads that an involuntary laugh at the 
 joke of some other person in company, or a 
 rebellious affectation of having an opinion of 
 his own respecting a waistcoat, may drive him 
 from the society of the great man for ever. 
 
 Secondly, a Tuft-hunter weighs everything, 
 real or ideal, by the one standard of nobility. 
 Ask him his opinion of Shakspeare, and he 
 will tell you that he never reads him, because 
 Lord Noodle considers him a " bore." Speak 
 of the Theatre, and he instantly praises the 
 
THE TUFT-HUNTERS. 
 
 59 
 
 Opera, because the Marquis of Loveleggs once 
 took him behind the scenes. If you talk of 
 eating, he never knows any dish that has an 
 English name, but descants at length upon 
 Chablis, or pate de foic gras, and asks you if 
 you ever dealt with Lopresti. In dress, he is 
 even more amusing. He wouldn't know a 
 pair of boots but as Prince of Wales', or any 
 other aristocratic appellative. He measures 
 gentility by calculating how much thicker one's 
 waist is than Lord Leneslippe's, and his whole 
 ideal of female beauty is regulated by a com- 
 parison with the Lady Flabella Rongement. 
 With regard to the fine arts, a picture is never 
 valuable, in his estimation, till it finds its way 
 into the collection of a nobleman; and he pre- 
 fers family portraits with bob-wigs to the 
 finest landscape by Claude. 
 
 His religion consists in thinking the service 
 in his lordship's chapel a very slow affair, but 
 quite respectable and correct. He will speak 
 to a clergyman, if he be of good family, and 
 
60 
 
 THE TUFT-HUNTEltS. 
 
 has no objection to kneel in St. George's, if 
 the hassock is soft. Besides performing these 
 duties, he is a great stickler for Church and 
 State, though wise people doubt his knowledge 
 of either; and he thinks that college prayer 
 would be quite proper, if he could only sit on 
 the same bench with his Tuft. 
 
 His acquirements are regulated by chance 
 or ability, and we have seen very clever men 
 Tuft-hunters. But these deserve even greater 
 blame than the shallow set who usually make 
 up the great mass, and we can conceive no- 
 thing more contemptible than the waste of 
 fine talents in so unprofitable and unworthy a 
 pursuit. 
 
 If the Tuft-hunter has a family, his domes- 
 tic arrangements are either totally neglected, 
 or formed upon those of any married Tuft 
 of his acquaintance. The sons are taught 
 pride, conceit, and an affectation of exclusive- 
 ness, and the daughters are immured in the 
 most fashionable boarding-school, in order to 
 
THE TUFT-HUNTERS. 
 
 61 
 
 run some chance of meeting with a titled 
 suitor in the brother of a school-fellow. The 
 servants, who generally form their behaviour 
 upon that of their master, are either super- 
 cilious or impudent, according to whom they 
 address. But let a Tuft or Tuftess ap- 
 proach the door, and they become as humble 
 as a stage-lover, and as troublesome and 
 officious as the attendants in a haberdasher's 
 shop. 
 
 But if a Tuft-hunter wishes to marry, it is 
 surprising to see the sacrifices he and his re- 
 lations will make to obtain an aristocratic 
 alliance. Stores of wealth, realized from 
 countless Dutch cheeses and endless tubs of 
 Yarmouth bloaters, are brought into play, and 
 the city millionaire determines to " spare no 
 expense," as the playbills say, in the " getting 
 up" of the family name and connexions. At 
 length, the Lady Bella, fifteenth daughter of 
 the Earl of Runtoseedie, takes pity upon the 
 longing of her Tufty suitor, and having be- 
 
9 
 
 62 THE TUFT-HUNTERS. 
 
 stowed half his wealth in jointures, conces- 
 sions, and loans, our Tuft-hunter, proud of 
 the honour, leads the Lady Bella to the altar. 
 Now, there are some marriages made between 
 poor silly people, who marry through love and 
 partiality; but there are also marriages in 
 which the bride or bridegroom is merely a 
 kind of incumbrance taken with a certain 
 number of acres or a specified amount of coin. 
 Such is the marriage of the Tuft-hunter with 
 
THE TUFT-HUNTERS. 
 
 63 
 
 the Tuftess. The bride heartily despises her 
 husband; and the husband cares nothing about 
 his bride, beyond the pleasure of reading the 
 announcement of his marriage in the papers. 
 
64 
 
 THE TUFT-HUNTERS. 
 
 The domestic happiness of the Tuft-hunter 
 is in proportion to the wisdom of his choice. 
 While he pays his court to Tufts abroad, his 
 wife entertains them at home, and loses her 
 husband's mone}' to their wives. 
 
 \ 
 
CHAPTER VIT. 
 
 of "imaginary" tuft-hunters. 
 
 ad as are the 
 Tuft-hunters who 
 are tolerated by 
 some nobility, 
 there is a yet more 
 contemptible race 
 of those who prac- 
 tise Tuft-hunting 
 without possess- 
 ing the least ac- 
 quaintance with the aristocracy, or who, upon 
 the strength of having stood next to a lord 
 at a concert, claim a familiar hand-and-glove 
 association with the same. 
 
 E 
 
66 
 
 THE TUFT-HUNTERS. 
 
 Of this kind was a friend whom we met 
 going through Hyde Park every morning at 
 nine o'clock for three months, and who always 
 informed us that he was going to visit in " the 
 Square." We wondered much what denizen 
 of Grosvenor square rose thus early, and were 
 astonished at the magnitude of our friend's 
 breakfasting-out connexion. But our wonder 
 subsided into a very different feeling when we 
 found that the breakfast in Grosvenor square 
 covered a visit, of a commercial description, to 
 an upholsterer's in Regent street. 
 
 Another acquaintance used to entertain all 
 he knew with the story of Lord Fitzwhipper's 
 horse, and what the aforesaid lord said to him 
 at the races, and what fine champagne Lord 
 Deepswigge kept, and what a punster Lord 
 Stalewitte was. And this reminds us of a 
 favourite habit of small, imaginative Tuft- 
 hunters. When their wits or memory sug- 
 gest a small joke or an hieroglyphical pun, 
 
THE TUFT-HUNTERS. 
 
 67 
 
 they do not pass it current under their own 
 name, but stamp their bad coinage with the 
 title of some " nob," who bears a reputation 
 for wit; thereby proving that Sheridan is not 
 the only victim to fathering the offspring of 
 small punsters. 
 
 A practical joke is also a great point, and 
 an Oxford Tuft-hunter would dAvell with 
 delight upon the noble exploits of some ex- 
 pelled "Tuft." He will tell of the brave 
 heroes who rose at dead of night, with tufted 
 caps and silken gowns, and spirits for the 
 fight, how they with pokers armed, the " dons" 
 at twelve alarmed; and how when they with 
 drink far gone, lay senseless, obfuscated, the 
 proctor and his " dogs" came up, and they 
 were rusticated. 
 
 Better still is the tremendous sang-froid 
 with which men who were never at Oxford or 
 Cambridge in their lives, talk of their "larks" 
 there with lords and marquises, and having 
 
 e 2 
 
68 
 
 THE TUFT-HUNTERS. 
 
 read the " Art of Pluck," the " Gradus ad 
 Cantabrigienses," and certain other popular 
 treatises, pass themselves off, by dint of 
 memory and impudence, as thoroughbred Ox- 
 ford " swells." For their edification, and that 
 of the world, we exhort every university man 
 to abuse and kick them whenever he meets 
 with such counterfeits. 
 
 A more modest breed of the ideal Tuft- 
 hunter is found to consist of men who don't 
 
THE TUFT-HUNTERS. 
 
 69 
 
 know lords themselves, but who know some- 
 body that does. Such " snobs" always speak 
 of " a cove they know that's as thick with 
 
 Lord as if they were brothers," or else 
 
 of what Lord said to a friend, of theirs 
 
 about the Marquis of . 
 
 But the lowest set of all — those who are even 
 scarcely respectable enough for the society of 
 the other Tuft-hunters — are those "gents" who 
 claim an acquaintance with the servants of the 
 aristocracy, and wlio pride themselves upon 
 knowing Lord Hedgeandditche's whipper-in, 
 and Count de Villeduste's groom. The talk 
 of such men is always of the stable, and such 
 characters are easily discovered among " gents" 
 of a sporting tendency. 
 
 They may be found sometimes in that ano- 
 malous and equivocal region denominated a 
 " mews" in London. This is usually a long, 
 narrow court with stable-doors and narrow 
 windows abounding in very red flowerpots 
 
70 
 
 THE TUFT-HUNTERS. 
 
 with very town-looking flowers in them, on 
 either side. A line of communication is kept 
 up across the road by frequent cords and very 
 un-perpendicular props, upon which Jerseys 
 and quilts of an indefinite variety of colour 
 and pattern annoy the heads of inexperienced 
 passengers, and are peculiarly offensive to a 
 refractory quadruped, who has taken French 
 leave of his stable. Pumps, and cocks and 
 hens, complete the scene, while gaunt, stuccoed, 
 four-story-high-without-attic houses frown 
 above the stable roofs on either side, and effec- 
 tually prevent any admission of air to men, 
 horses, or fowls. 
 
 In this murky atmosphere the smallest 
 species of Tuft-hunter rejoices to tarry. With 
 anxious care he hearkens to the praises of 
 " Jenny Lind," who is to " run"' to-morrow. 
 He admires the sturdy build of Lord Cutan- 
 run's " Thunderbolt," and gets by heart the 
 pedigree of the Count's " Destruction." He 
 drinks freely out of the same "pewter" with 
 
THE TUFT-HUNTERS. 
 
 71 
 
 the groom, and feels nearly as much " the 
 thing," as if he were seated vis-a-vis to the 
 Duke of Pall Mall, sipping Lafitte from a 
 
72 
 
 THE TUFT-HUNTERS. 
 
 glass, the dimensions of which might qualify 
 it for the table of one of the red brick domi- 
 ciles so often seen in toy-shop windows. 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 OF TUFT-HUNTING MAMMAS. 
 
 e now come to a more 
 interesting subject, 
 the Tuft - hunting 
 mammas; but grieved 
 as we are to make 
 ladies the subject of 
 satire in any shape, 
 we cannot show more 
 mercy to a female 
 Tuft-hunter, than to 
 the male of the same 
 wretched species. 
 The true Tuft-hunting mamma is generally 
 a lady of a "certain age," with a very high 
 
74 
 
 THE TUFT-HUNTERS. 
 
 turban, still higher notions, and several un- 
 married daughters, who look as if they had 
 been brought up upon starch and tight lacing 
 since childhood. Three of them, who are we 
 won't say how many years distant from 
 twenty, are resolved that nothing less than a 
 coronet or a Ladyship shall ever tempt them 
 into the indiscretion of marrying. The fourth, 
 a fair creature of eighteen, is greatly detested 
 by her sisters for the crime of being the 
 youngest, and entertaineth romantic notions of 
 ensigns on half pay, and interesting young 
 gentlemen with small dependencies: she hath 
 also great desire to have a clandestine attach- 
 ment, like Lydia Languish, and run away, like 
 a heroine in one of Mr. Bourcicault's come- 
 dies. She worketh initials of charming young 
 men in Berlin wool, loveth a comedy, in which 
 there is plenty of love and elopement, and 
 thinketh an author in a turn-down collar the 
 most interesting creature in the wide world. 
 Her mother, by advice of her sisters, locks her 
 
THE TUFT-HUNTERS. 
 
 up in her bedroom every night, and never lets 
 her walk in the " square" unless in safe keep- 
 ing. Yet we shouldn't be surprised to see her 
 name in the Morning Post some of these days, 
 under the head, " elopement in high life," for 
 
76 
 
 THE TUFT-HUNTERS. 
 
 " love laughs at locksmiths," and a mysterious 
 French pianoforte has excited suspicion of late 
 by his decent appearance and frequent visits 
 to the dining-room window. Several substan- 
 tial offers of marriage have been declined by 
 the other sisters, at the instigation of their 
 mother, who was formerly Lady Mayoress, 
 and recollects too well the delight with which 
 she first felt herself addressed as My Lady, to 
 dream of debarring her daughters from the 
 same pleasure. For our part, we fear that, 
 while the Ladyship is insisted upon thus per- 
 tinaciously, our ladies will collapse into that 
 very respectable, but much shunned state of 
 old maidishness, and that the late trip to Bou- 
 logne shows that they entertain similar fears. 
 
 Their lady mother is very particular about 
 etiquette, French accent, and the height of her 
 " tiger." She never allows her daughters to 
 read such dreadfully radical publications as 
 Punch, or anything else that people will buy; 
 but delighteth in " Genteel Miseries," by the 
 
THE TUFT-HUNTERS. 
 
 77 
 
 authoress of "Ducks and Dears," and " G-eorge 
 de Vivianne, or the Faithful Inconstant," by 
 the author of " Scraps of Iligli Life," " The 
 Duchess," " Patrician Revenge," &c. &c. In 
 fact she prefers French novels, as being more 
 improving and moral than English, but hath a 
 great dread of Eugene Sue because he is " so 
 very radical." She goeth often to the St. 
 James', but prefers Perlet to Rachel. She 
 hath weak nerves, and is in a fearful state of 
 excitement whenever an "interesting event" 
 is anticipated in the papers. She cannot bear 
 the sight of rags or distress, but giveth freely 
 to charities that are " well supported." Her 
 daughters are perfect champions of fancy fairs, 
 and paint more flowered screens, make more 
 card racks, and distribute more tracts than all 
 their acquaintance; while the mother subscribes 
 handsomely to every " testimonial" given to an 
 Italian singer. 
 
 At a ball, rout, (a rather bygone affair in 
 these days,) or evening party, your Tuft-hunt- 
 
78 
 
 THE TUFT-HUNTERS. 
 
 ing mamma is a very dragon of vigilance and 
 etiquette. With anxious care she scans the 
 souvenir de danse of each of her fair daughter?, 
 and notes down the men whose rank and for- 
 tune may qualify them for partners in the 
 dance of — marriage. But w r oe betide all 
 younger brothers! Woe betide the men who 
 have generous hearts, fine persons, and no 
 titles! We remember a friend of ours, Adol- 
 phus Fitzclarence Charlestown Bumble, fifth 
 son of the Earl of Bumble, who used to say 
 that he made a point never to make an offer 
 in a family wherein there was a Tuft-hunting 
 mamma. After this example, " ladies,beware!" 
 Another friend, the Duke of Modern Greece, 
 assured us that he never allowed his sons to 
 enter a family at all, in which Tuft-hunting 
 was pursued; but we lament to say, that 
 through this prohibition, his grace had few 
 visitors besides his chaplain, lawyer, and 
 barber. 
 
 But our Tuft-huntress is equally great in 
 
THE TUFT-HUNTERS. 
 
 79 
 
 other public places. She goeth to the Ro) r al 
 Acadeirry, and findeth likenesses to aristocratic 
 friends in every " Portrait of a Gentleman." 
 She remarketh how like Brutus Lord Killand- 
 cutte is, the nobleman in question being at her 
 elbow. She liketh portraits of young ladies 
 and gentlemen nursing dogs and kissing 
 puppies, with aristocratic names underneath, 
 and she sendeth once a week to Colnaghi's for 
 the new portraits of Prince Albert and " The 
 Duke." She loveth Heath's book of beauty, 
 because the beauties are all genteel; but hateth 
 vulgar rustics, and can't think how people can 
 admire Wilkie. 
 
 The Tuft-huntress thrives best as a widow; 
 and, to make a fearful pun, her ill " weeds" 
 grow apace. If she hath sons, she generally 
 allows them to hunt down their acquaintance 
 in order to keep them out of the way; if not, 
 she is in her full glory, and layeth nets for her 
 daughters and herself. Distraction! — while 
 we are writing this, a messenger comes with 
 
80 
 
 THE TUFT-HUNTERS. 
 
 the news that the fair Dolorosa Clarabella De 
 Smythe has gone off in company with the 
 French pianoforte — we mean, with the Honour- 
 able Augustus Tippetywitch. The house is 
 in confusion; Lady De Smythe shrieketh 
 loudly, and calleth for hartshorn and — her 
 daughter. The other three Miss De Smythes 
 sob — because they are not on the road, too; 
 and old Lord Tippetywitch sweareth they are 
 all accomplices in marrying his son, who has 
 got no money, to an heiress in the same con- 
 dition. We write in haste, for fear the news 
 should get into the papers first. But we fore- 
 saw it all. 
 
 To return from this melancholy digression, 
 the Tuft-huntress hath but few of the feminine 
 virtues and gentler graces which adorn women. 
 Her mind is crippled with vapid and narrow 
 views of society, and knows no culture save 
 the garbled pictures of humanity vended by 
 thepaste-scissors-and-polish writers of fashion- 
 able literature. Ungenteel nobility, unfemi- 
 
THE TUFT-HUNTERS. 
 
 81 
 
 nine women, and men whose whole essence is 
 made up of their waistcoats, ties, and titles, are 
 the encyclopaedia of human nature which she 
 studies. Her taste, like that of the Tuft- 
 hunter, is never independent, but always 
 vitiated by the glitter of fashion. And here 
 we would observe that fashion is the cause of 
 all the evils attendant upon society. Without 
 it, we should have no " gents," " snobs," 
 " stuck-up people," or " Tuft-hunters." Their 
 whole aim is to be " the thing," to come " up 
 to the mark," or " ticket," to " come out 
 strong," " cut a dash," " make a hit," and all 
 the vulgar things to which the vulgar words 
 of hybrid society have given names. 
 
 It is for this reason that we find the Tuft- 
 huntress a perfect slave to milliners and bonnet 
 makers. Of course she doesn't go to Cran- 
 bourn alley (or street); but she proceeds to 
 some fashionable - looking shop in Regent 
 street, where there is no danger of being fol- 
 lowed over the pavement, and annoyed by a 
 
 F 
 
82 
 
 THE TUFT-HUNTERS. 
 
 couple of Gorgon-headed bonnet makers, (" 'tis 
 true, 'tis pity — pity 'tis, 'tis true.") Here she 
 dismounteth from her carriage, and, with her 
 fair daughters, ascendeth to the " show room" 
 of what seemeth like an elegant private resi- 
 dence. Then cometh the grand consultation 
 about the bonnets, somewhat to the following 
 etFect : 
 
 Tuft-hunting Mamma. " Well, my dears, 
 what colour shall these bonnets be?" 
 
 First Daughter. " I prefer pink ; Lady Jes- 
 samy looked quite fascinating in hers yes- 
 terday." 
 
 Mamma. " Yes, but she's only a baronet's 
 wife, and her taste is therefore not first-rate." 
 
 Second Daughter. " For my part, I like 
 green, with a white veil; the Countess of 
 Mucklegeare looked charming in one at the 
 morning concert." 
 
 Third Daughter. " I don't like green — blue 
 is much prettier." 
 
 Mamma. " Yes, but we must wear what the 
 
THE TUFT-HUNTERS. 
 
 83 
 
 aristocracy wear, whether it's pretty or not." 
 
 Fourth and youngest Daughter. " I don't 
 see the use of that at all." 
 
 Mamma. "Be silent, you naughty girl, how 
 should you know anything about gentility? — 
 "What colour must it be ?" 
 
 Fourth Daughter. " Let them be white, 
 Ma! Oh, I saw such a dear, darling white 
 bonnet at the Hay market, the other evening!" 
 
 All the three Sisters together. For shame, 
 child!" 
 
 Fourth Daughter. " I'm no more a child 
 than you, but you're all three old enough to 
 know better." 
 
 Dead silence, indignation, and determina- 
 tion to wait till lady Sheapsheere comes, and 
 abide by her taste. 
 
 Such is the anxiety about dressing aristo- 
 cratically, and such are the heartburnings 
 ■which vex the bosoms of our Tuft-hunting 
 fair ones. Furniture is a subject of equal 
 anxiety, and it is a known fact that Tuftesses 
 
 r 2 
 
84 
 
 THE TUFT-HUNTERS. 
 
 always select the newest and most useless in 
 the whole city. Even the contents of a Cheap 
 Furniture Mart are preferable to the collec- 
 tion of prie-dieux, causeuse, dormeuse, French 
 clocks that tell any hour of day but the right 
 one, tables as useless as the Wellington Statue, 
 and nearly as ridiculous ; bagatelles of every 
 form, size, and species, which are collected to- 
 gether by the ingenuity of our Tuft-hunting 
 mamma. 
 
 But what shall we say of the daughters? 
 Simply that they are what their education has 
 made them — stiff, pert, and disagreeable. They 
 are tricked out with a view to display, envy 
 all their own sex, and despise half the other. 
 To all dictates of the heart they are taught 
 to turn a deaf ear; to regard nature as a 
 defect to be corrected, simplicity as identical 
 with folly, and the nobility of the mind 
 as a dull fiction. They are women, but 
 have lost the greatest charms that adorn the 
 female character; ladies, bereft of real gen- 
 
THE TUFT-HUNTERS. 85 
 
 tility; educated, but yet more ignorant; thrust 
 into society, and tolerated therein. In short, 
 the practice of Tuft-hunting makes a man 
 a fool, but what it makes of the other sex, 
 we can neither discover nor say. Perhaps 
 they form a fresh class of female " bores." 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 OF TUFT-HUNTING TRADESMEN. 
 
 ow is it that we never see a 
 cravat, stock, shirt, or any other 
 article of dress, without a fashion- 
 able and aristocratic 
 name? Why are the 
 names of nobility 
 employed to distin- 
 guish things neither 
 elegant nor useful, 
 and to designate 
 waistcoat patterns 
 which none but a 
 confirmed " gent " 
 would pulronise? 
 Simply because tai- 
 lors and tradesmen 
 in general will imi- 
 -; tate the manners of 
 
THE TUFT-HUNTERS, 
 
 87 
 
 their customers, and hunt Tufts, after their 
 fashion, as well as their betters. 
 
 The other day we stepped, by some un- 
 foreseen accident, into a very large, plate-glass- 
 
88 
 
 THE TUFT-HUNTERS. 
 
 fronted haberdasher's, in Oxford-street. The 
 master, radiant in white frills, and stark staring 
 gold chain, stepped forward, like a master of 
 the ceremonies, to welcome two ladies who had 
 just descended from their carriage, and with 
 a bland smile commended them to the care of 
 two young men, respectable enough to have 
 been better employed. Then the display of 
 shawls and bonnets, ribbons and feathers, and 
 the eternal reiteration of " My Lady," " your 
 Ladyship," in every variety of tone, and the 
 quotation of Duchess' names, who had "bought 
 a whole piece the very day before," and Lady- 
 ships, whose complexion so resembled the 
 complexion of the fair customers before them! 
 It was endless to listen, so we came away, 
 leaving the two Ladyships disputing whether 
 the three-halfpenny ribbon would not do as 
 well as that at twopence-halfpenny. 
 
 In Oxford or Cambridge, tailors are pro- 
 bably as dangerous a species of Tuft-hunter 
 as any other tradesmen, confectioners not ex- 
 
THE TUFT-HUNTERS. 
 
 89 
 
 cepted. In a dashing front first-floor apart- 
 ment, bedecked with mahogany chairs, and 
 with a c/ieval glass frowning with blank dignity 
 upon the stone Avails and Tudor windows op- 
 posite, — here lie an assemblage of caps of all 
 grades of university society. The cloth caps 
 lie in a dense heap in sober sadness, and as if 
 wondering what strange heads they may here- 
 after be doomed to cover. On a chair lies, 
 exclusive and sublime to behold, the dreadful 
 tufted cap, exulting in its ounce of gold fringe, 
 which is to bring tutors to a level, tradesmen's 
 noses to their feet, and to transfix the de- 
 lighted gaze of the Tuft-hunter. Here is the 
 great warehouse of badges; nobility and com- 
 monalty are created by nature, but it is the 
 tailor who licks them into shape, and gives 
 them their distinctions. 
 
 As the tailor is the great maker of " Tufts," 
 so he hunteth them most savagely. He nameth 
 strange creations in drugget after my Lord 
 , of Trin. Coll., Camb., and suspicious 
 
90 
 
 THE TUFT-IIUNTK EtS. 
 
 plaids after his Grace of Ch. Ch. He getteth 
 by heart the town fashionables, and affixeth 
 their names to suits, before which we should 
 prefer a respectable policeman's attire, or 
 park-keeper's livery. 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 OF TUFT-HUNTERS, HISTORICALLY 
 CONSIDERED. 
 
 any reader should 
 find fault with us 
 for not commencing 
 with the ancient his- 
 tory of Tuft -hunting, 
 we can only excuse 
 ourselves by observ- 
 ing, that so many 
 writers have adopted 
 the principle of be- 
 ginning at the be- 
 ginning, that we 
 thought a change of 
 treatment was for its 
 own sake desirable, 
 
92 
 
 THE TUFT-HUNTERS. 
 
 and accordingly first treated of Tuft-hunters 
 " as they are." 
 
 But we have said that Tuft-hunting is an 
 ancient practice, and as we scorn to say any- 
 thing without proof, we will produce historical 
 examples of Tuft-hunting and Tuft-hunters 
 from the remotest periods of the ancient and 
 mediaeval world. 
 
 An enlightened modern traveller, who was 
 once a member of the British and Foreign 
 } assures us that he met with the follow- 
 ing inscription, embedded in a damp field of 
 chaff, in the Island of Ilumbuggeia, in the 
 iEgean Sea. 
 
 «To the TUFT-HUNTER," etc. 
 
THE TUFT-HUNTERS. 
 
 93 
 
 for the rest was destroyed by age and damp. 
 We are surprised this inestimable monument 
 lias never found its way into the British 
 Museum, especially as it tends so evidently 
 to show that man has always been the same 
 creature. 
 
 We have no doubt that it was an inscription 
 in honour of Aristotle, and its being found in 
 a field of " chaff" strengthens the belief. It 
 is well known that this great philosopher was 
 a great Tuft-hunter in his way, being tutor to 
 a king, who, when the philosopher was going 
 to talk fine ethics, politics, poetics, analytics, 
 and other ticks, (for the king had to pay for 
 the publication, no doubt, and would probably 
 have run a large account with our respected 
 printer, Mr. Savill, had he lived in this day,) 
 always bade him " cut it short." Socrates 
 was rather a Tuft-hunter too, and used to be 
 snubbed by one Alcibiades on account of his 
 nose. Plato, a man of good family himself, 
 but with a slight touch of the boa- constrictor 
 
94 
 
 THE TUFT-HUNTERS. 
 
 in his parentage, enjoyed great popularity in 
 the same way. 
 
 But those persons who read the classics for 
 amusement must be well aware of the an- 
 tiquity of humbug of every kind. Jupiter 
 was decidedly an old humbug, or he would 
 never have witnessed the Greeks and Trojans 
 fighting for ten years about nothing, like dogs 
 contending for a marrow-bone. Yet Jupiter 
 and his court had their Tuft-hunters; — there 
 was the light-fingered skipjack Mercury, ever 
 ready to fetch and carry from one to another, 
 a kind of winged Parcels Delivery agent, and 
 ready to " cut " his friend Prometheus for 
 quarrelling with the great Tuft, Jupiter. 
 There was Momus, too, a kind of paid, privi- 
 leged, pun-possessed Tuft-hunter, who sharp- 
 ened his appetite by making dull jokes, and 
 then retailed them in order to satisfy it. 
 There was Bacchus, a licensed dealer in 
 liquors " to be drunk on the premises," and 
 in cigars of every variety. Notwithstanding 
 
THE TUFT-HUNTERS. 95 
 
 his low calling, he was in great request among 
 the drinking and swearing Tufts, and was 
 asked out to "wines" very frequently, on 
 account of his prodigious talents in mixing 
 punch and smoking " weeds." His wife, 
 Libera, so called from her " free-and-easy " 
 manner towards customers, was a smart, dash- 
 ing little body, with a bunch of keys at her 
 girdle, and a head-dress of grapes. The 
 Tufts, gents, and other anomalous deities, 
 were extremely partial to the " house," but 
 the irregular conduct of the company who 
 frequented it, was scandalous even in Olympus. 
 However, as all the gods were in his debt, 
 they were obliged to make the best of it, and 
 be silent. It chanced that Hercules was once 
 going home from a party in the vale of Tempe, 
 a sort of mythological Cremorne Gardens, 
 being much the worse for sundry glasses of 
 pale ale and brandy (for he always took his 
 spirits "neat"); on turning a corner, he met 
 
96 
 
 THE TUFT-HUNTERS. 
 
 Cupid, a spruce sort of « gent," who had been 
 at half-price to stare at the ballet girls of the 
 
THE TUFT-HUNTERS. 
 
 97 
 
 Lyceum, and was puffing away at a penny 
 Cuba which he had procured out of the change 
 which his mamma Venus had given him for 
 the night's pleasure. Hercules, staggering 
 against a post, asked him " what was the 
 row?" To which Cupid replied by jerking a 
 strong puff (as strong as a penny cigar will 
 bear) into the face of the hero, at the same 
 time winking one eye with a downy sort of 
 expression. Hercules sneezed vehemently, 
 put himself into a very effective attitude of 
 defence, and offered to fight Cupid for Love. 
 Our young "gent" rather shirked this, and 
 professed an instinctive dislike to fighting in 
 general. At length, it was amicably arranged 
 that they should go halves in a cab to the inn 
 kept by Bacchus, and " make a night of it," 
 Cupid further expressing a resolution not to 
 " go home till morning." As they were going 
 along, Hercules recollected that he had already 
 a small " chalk " at the inn, and expressed a 
 
 G 
 
98 
 
 THE TUFT-HUNTERS. 
 
 desire to borrow five shillings; but Cupid 
 informed him that he never had any money 
 in his pockets longer than five minutes, and 
 that he had lost the whole of his last quarter's 
 allowance by betting against the " favourite " 
 Pegasus at the last Derby, in company with 
 two medical students, yclept Podalirius and 
 Machaon. He, however, bade Hercules make 
 himself easy about the matter, for that as 
 Bacchus allowed free " tick " to himself, who 
 never paid for anything, he couldn't possibly 
 refuse it to Hercules, who had a fair reputation 
 for honesty ; furthermore asserting that he 
 didn't mind standing treat for both, as he had 
 not the least intention of paying for a single 
 drop. Hercules was greatly scandalized at 
 this laxity of principle, but wisely reflecting 
 that a man without sixpence in his pocket 
 mustn't be particular, continued his ride, and 
 they reached the inn. Bacchus, however, 
 " had a large sum to make up," and gratified 
 
THE TUFT-HUNTERS. 
 
 99 
 
 our two gentlemen with their "little accounts." 
 Hercules looked rather sour at this, and began 
 to meditate "turning on" a neighbouring river 
 upon the premises; but wisely reflecting that 
 he should himself get wet, he desisted, and 
 remained looking like a man who is asked for 
 a bill. Cupid, who was a great deal more 
 used to such demands, looked at the vintner 
 with scorn, and asked him how he dared charge 
 three- halfpence for his infernal British weed. 
 " To-Bacch-e-e, three bob-and-a-tiz-zy !" lisped 
 out our } r oung swell, and hence the weed de- 
 rived its name of Tobacco, and, in allusion to 
 the non-payment of certain bills by this flash 
 young " gent " the cry of I. O. Bacche, grew 
 nearly as famous as the celebrated three letters 
 used among money-borrowing acquaintances. 
 It is said that Cupid, disgusted at the amount, 
 politely expressed a wish that Bacchus might 
 live till he got paid, and walked out with his 
 companion on his arm; when, after pulling 
 
 <* 2 
 
100 
 
 THE TUFT-HUNTERS. 
 
 the knockers off the street door of a testy old 
 gentleman named Saturn, they were taken and 
 locked up by a gloomy policeman named Pluto, 
 who took them before Sir Peter Rhadamanthus 
 the next morning. Both were fined five shil- 
 lings, which was not " instantly paid," and 
 our " gents " were therefore locked up in de- 
 fault. 
 
 Apologising for this digression, we must 
 observe that Tuft-hunting was by no means 
 confined to the gods of the ancients. The poets 
 were fair specimens. Pindar, for instance, (a 
 lineal ancestor of the great Peter,) wrote 
 ballads, like Noisy Jack, upon the winning 
 horses or pet boxers of his aristocratic friends, 
 and, although a water-drinking gentleman by 
 principle, was a fast man in practice, and lived 
 "upon town" in Sicily with great success. 
 There was .iEschylus, who wrote courtly 
 plays, and played the courtier, but whose 
 Tuft-hunting came to a bad end. An eagle, 
 
THE TUFT-HUNTERS. 
 
 101 
 
 mistaking his head for a stone, (or a Poor Law- 
 Commissioner, we forget which,) dropped a 
 tortoise upon it, and killed him; thereby 
 proving that a tortoise-shell comb may be too 
 heavy even for the head of a poet. 
 
 But if we come to the " good old times " of 
 which quizzes love to talk — the happy days 
 when there were no morning conceits, no 
 Casinos, no " gents," Trafalgar Squares, or 
 gaunt pillories 'yclept monuments, on which 
 an unfortunate statue of an unfortunate great 
 man is doomed to stand looking at nothing — 
 no savage-coated human monsters, nor inge- 
 nious authors to write their natural history — 
 no ballet girls, nor painted shirts — no Jenny 
 Lind to charm the senses and the purses of a 
 whole country — in those " glorious old days " 
 such as Macaulay would describe, when all 
 was poetry, Spanish armada, and bear-baiting 
 — in those days of hoops and stiff collars, 
 Tuft-hunting nourished gloriously. Fairfax 
 
102 
 
 THE TUFT-HUNTERS. 
 
 and Spenser were sad boys in this respect, 
 but glorious fellows in everything else, unlike 
 the modern race; Sir Walter Raleigh, of 
 
 cigar-smoking 
 same passion. 
 
 infamy, was a victim to the 
 Turning over the Cottonian 
 
THE TUFT-HUNTERS. 
 
 103 
 
 MSS. the other day, we met with the follow - 
 ing curious illumination: — 
 
 How y e tufte and ye tufte hunlerre 
 were waikynge downe Bonde his streete, 
 and how y<-' tufte saw his ladye love at 
 a windowe. 
 
 The undoubted age of the manuscript, and 
 the peculiar style of its orthography, prove 
 the antiquity of Tuft-hunting beyond all 
 doubt, and show that the follies of mankind 
 have been pretty much the same at all periods 
 of history. 
 
CHAPTER XI. 
 
 OF TUFT-HUNTERS AT THE PRESENT DAY. 
 
 is said that everything, govern- 
 ment-works always excepted, is 
 brought to its 
 greatest perfec- 
 
 tion in the pre- 
 sent day. 
 We have 
 four opera 
 houses, 
 plenty of 
 railw ays 
 and acci- 
 dents, ab- 
 undance of new houses with small rooms and 
 
THE TUFT-HUNTERS. 
 
 105 
 
 large street-doors; we have Macready and 
 Phelps " doing" tragedy at two houses, and a 
 number of people trying to do it at others. We 
 have weekly volumes and monthly volumes, 
 penny almanacks, and penny everything-elses, 
 exhibitions without number, tunnels without 
 end, books with or without purpose (the latter 
 generally translated from the German), amus- 
 ing tragedies and melancholy farces, " gents" 
 and cheap tailors, "stuck up people" and low- 
 priced pokers from Rippon and Burton's; bal- 
 let girls and opera glasses, new Royal Ex- 
 changes, and oil-cloth frescoes. In fact, 
 everything swims around us in one sea of 
 exaggerated perfection. The print shops 
 dazzle us with their endless portraits of 
 Giselle, " bore" us with Field Marshals, and 
 terrify us with snow and rein deer. The 
 hand-organs benumb our senses, and Jullien 
 electrifies them. Walk down Piccadilly or the 
 Strand, and (if you don't break your legs over 
 the wood pavement before you reach the end, 
 
106 
 
 THE TUFT-HUNTERS. 
 
 which we will not promise) you will be be- 
 wildered by the variety of objects, if you be a 
 stranger, and if not, at least amazed at some 
 new and excessive changes since you last 
 passed that way. 
 
 No wonder, then, that Tuft-hunters should 
 nourish also, nourish in greater perfection than 
 was ever known before. Nobility increases 
 its numbers, new tufts are made, new baronets 
 licensed, and, as a natural consequence, a new 
 race of Tuft-hunters spring up. Humbug 
 progresses, and Tuft-hunting follows its course. 
 Railway millionaires start into a sudden ex- 
 istence, and purchase society with its own gold. 
 A large house, huge gold chain, and infinite 
 plausibility, render the parvenu a suitable 
 companion for the nobleman whose estate is 
 out at elbows. He marries into a great 
 family, keeps great company, and is at length 
 raised to the " nobby" state himself. He is a 
 Tuft, and must be hunted as he hunted others 
 of old. He assunieth fashionable indifference, 
 
THE TUFT-HUNTERS. 
 
 107 
 
 but preserved) his sordid passion for wealth. 
 His establishment is like modern confectionary 
 — all show and plaster-of-Paris: but in his 
 crowd of worthless adherents and Tui't-himt- 
 ing flatterers, he rivals every peer of his ac- 
 quaintance. 
 
 All trades and professions join in the " tally- 
 ho" after Tufts, and the world scrambles along 
 in the mighty race, some nearer, some more 
 
108 
 
 THE TUFT-HUNTERS. 
 
 remote — now abreast — now distanced. Now 
 the Tuft shows fight, and stands at bay, dis- 
 daining the crowds which follow him — and 
 now he yields, bland and patronising — now he 
 suffers himself to be disgraced for their diver- 
 sion — and so the Tufts, and the world after 
 them, scamper away together, and go — no 
 matter whither. 
 
 Reader, are you a Tuft-hunter? The ques- 
 tion is abrupt, perhaps harsh. If you are, 
 you deserve no apology; if not, you will not 
 feel offended, and will, therefore, not need 
 any. But, reader, dear, kind, benevolent 
 reader, we exhort thee by all the tender en- 
 treaties ever found in prefaces to ladies' novels, 
 or " tags" to modern comedies — don't be a 
 Tuft-hunter, if you are not already. Avoid 
 the unnatural imitation of nobility, which can 
 only make you more distant from that you 
 wish to be, and far worse than what you already 
 are, whatever that may be. 
 
 Another vice akin to Tuft-hunting, and a 
 
THE TUFT-HUNTERS. 
 
 109 
 
 natural consequence thereof, is the universal 
 desire of people to seem richer than they are. 
 This springs from the " snobbish" character 
 of society, which weighs virtue by the same 
 scale as that by which it detects a light sove- 
 reign. " All humbug, all humbug," says one 
 of Sir E. Bulwer Lytton's heroes. " All 
 money, all money," say the world. A good 
 man is a rich man; a good woman, a widow 
 with a large jointure and no incumbrances; a 
 good maiden, a ward in Chancery, or a shri- 
 velled West Indian heiress. As gold is virtue, 
 so the possession of it is identical with the 
 enjoyment of every virtue of mind and prowess 
 of body. 
 
 This species of humbug leads men to pinch 
 their necessary expenses, and practise any 
 meanness in the economy of their establish- 
 ments, in order to make a show, and that they 
 may seem to smack of high life. Thus a clerk 
 on eighty pounds a year goes once or twice to 
 the " stalls" of the Theatre, and pays double 
 
110 
 
 THE TUFT-HUNTERS. 
 
 price to see plastered rouge, dirty drop scenes, 
 and the prompter. The entertainment is 
 spoilt, but the stalls are aristocratic, and he 
 
 may chance to sit near Lord , and pick up 
 
 his Lordship's remarks upon the dancing, in 
 order to retail them to his less aristocratic, but 
 equally vulgar companions. 
 
 For the same reason we see Chinese temples 
 and wire bridges reared in gardens belonging 
 to East End folk; who astonish their neigh- 
 bours, by copying the designs of Kew Gar- 
 dens and the Pavilion; thereby wasting the 
 price of many good acres, and putting the 
 kitchen upon true Chinese diet. 
 
 We live in an artificial state of society, at a 
 time when every one tries to be something 
 that he is not. Fashion is ever the rule of 
 taste, money the rule of fashion ; and every 
 encouragement is afforded to Tuftyism by the 
 listlessness of nobility, and the servile, but 
 cool, insolence of <£ gents" and " stuck up 
 people." From these great classes of society 
 
THE TUFT-HUNTERS. 
 
 Ill 
 
 the Tuft-hunter springs. His career is one of 
 meanness and endless concessions to what 
 better judgment would condemn; and he lives 
 under a shadow of his own raising, dancing 
 attendance night and day upon a being who 
 despises him for his politeness, and yet lacks 
 courage to cast off the incumbrance, sweet- 
 ened as it is by flattery and deference. 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 
 OF THE MEANS REQUISITE 
 OF TUFT-HI 
 
 FOR THE EXTINCTION 
 NTERS. 
 
 it is of little use to 
 point out the evil 
 without suggesting 
 some correlative 
 remedy, we will lay- 
 before our readers 
 certain rules of con- 
 duct, which, we 
 have some hope, 
 may ultimately lead 
 to the extinction of 
 Tuft-hunters ; and 
 we trust that as we 
 now laugh at the 
 barbarism of ages 
 in which court fools 
 
THE TUFT-HUNTERS. 
 
 113 
 
 flourished, so the Tuft-hunters may, even in our 
 time, be spoken of as belonging to the indications 
 of an obsolete, ill-favoured period of society. 
 
 The public spirit of society at large is indeed 
 the only cure for these excrescences upon its 
 body corporate. Let the Tuft-hunter be re- 
 garded and treated as a disreputable person, 
 and he will sink into insignificance. If you 
 meet a Tuft-hunter in company, show your- 
 self utterly unconscious of his presence, and 
 pay the strictest possible attention to every 
 other surrounding object, how insignificant so- 
 ever. He will straightway begin to fidget, 
 and strive to attract your notice, and perhaps 
 enter into conversation, for he loveth display 
 as much as the " gent." Of course, he will not 
 speak ten words without mentioning his ac- 
 quaintance with a nobleman. If the Lord- 
 ship in question be a favourable specimen ol 
 nobility — though the odds are as much against 
 that as against the chance of seeing a decent 
 public building set on foot by the taste of a 
 
 H 
 
1 1,4 THE TUFT-HUNTERS. 
 
 government, you must look supercilious and 
 doubtful, and say nothing. Finding that the 
 Lord faileth, he will try a Marquis, or per- 
 haps an Earl. Look doubly supercilious, trebly 
 doubtful, and say nothing still. Disgusted at 
 the uselessness of a " nobby" acquaintance, 
 the Tuft-hunter will quit your side in despair, 
 and perhaps be so much out of humour the 
 whole evening, that he will not be able to 
 annoy any one else. A repetition of such be- 
 haviour will spoil his whole out-door business 
 at least. 
 
 If you meet a Tuft-hunter dressed in some 
 ridiculous costume, and lounging aristocrati- 
 cally, (according to his idea,) look at him with 
 an intense stare, and give a look of pity, such 
 as you would bestow upon a friend who had 
 just bought a suit at Mosheesh and Co."s. 
 
 When a Tuft-hunter asks you if you know 
 the Earl of Softsoape, say at once that you 
 never heard of such a person. If he offer to 
 
THE TUFT-HUNTERS. 
 
 Ho 
 
 introduce you, express a decided objection to 
 forcing yourself upon any man, to whose 
 acquaintance you have no claim, and with 
 whose circumstances you cannot cope on an 
 independent and gentlemanly footing. 
 
 h 2 
 
116 
 
 THE TUFT-HUNTERS. 
 
 In matters of taste, express your own 
 opinion, and do not be humbugged into the 
 belief that the drama is on the decline, because 
 a Tuft-hunter tells you the aristocracy have 
 deserted it. If they have done so, the greater 
 their shame; if they have not, 'tis a foolish 
 cant of bad managers, bad actors, and worse 
 authors. If you consider that a fashionable 
 coat is more suited to an excavator, a waist- 
 coat more fitting a "gent" in an Adelphi 
 farce, a pair of railway trousers more fit for 
 keeping the draught out of a room, and a 
 "tie" more serviceable to hang the biped whom 
 it is meant to adorn — do not be persuaded to 
 wear these garments, because a Tuft-hunter 
 tells you he saw the Count Montmuggins in 
 precisely the same habiliments; and do not 
 think that the way to seem fit for the society 
 of noblemen consists in making yourself unfit 
 for the notice of your fellow-men. 
 
 If a Tuft-hunter talks of the Blue Book, 
 
THE TUFT-HUNTERS. 
 
 117 
 
 Army List, or Peerage, especially the latter, 
 talk immediately upon some sensible subject, 
 and he wont trouble you long. 
 
 Above all, if he makes free with the names 
 of the gentler portion of nobility, and boasts 
 
 of the notice with which Lady or the 
 
 Countess of honours him; regard him as 
 
 an impertinent coxcomb, and treat him ac- 
 
118 
 
 THE TUFT-HUNTERS. 
 
 cordingly. If his impudence lead him to speak 
 with even greater freedom, knock him down, 
 or brand him as an impostor. 
 
 If your Tuft-hunter entertain you with 
 on dits and interesting affairs on the tapis, or 
 eclair cissements, tell him that you read the 
 whole in the paper. He will be half mad to 
 find himself forestalled in a bit of scandal, and 
 will eagerly demand in what journal you read 
 the affair. Be sure to forget; and to observe 
 that you have no time to attend to nonsense, 
 w r hether it happen to be in one paper or an- 
 other. 
 
 If you see two Tuft-hunters together, let 
 them alone. Each inj ures the other in his trade, 
 and the closer they herd, the surer their de- 
 struction. 
 
 Avoid all persons who consider that the re- 
 spectability and moral excellence of a man's 
 character are determined by the number of 
 peers who condescend to drink his wine, and 
 
THE TUFT-HUNTERS. 
 
 119 
 
 all people who talk about making use of the 
 Duke of 's box, in order to hear Alboni. 
 
 Give the dead cut to the man who treats 
 you coldly, because he has a peer on his arm. 
 
 Tradesmen, if you have a Tuft-hunter on 
 your books, make up your minds that your 
 chance of getting your money is much smaller 
 than your somewhat natural desire to do so 
 — and act accordingly. 
 
 But ye noblemen — how shall I address you 
 on this subject? You do not indeed make 
 Tuft-hunters, but you foster them, and are 
 guilty of their error by connivance. 
 
 If you would avoid them, detest all cringing 
 flattery and meanness, and believe that they 
 can never make you more than men, though 
 they may render you less. Choose your ac- 
 quaintances, dependents if you will, not by 
 their impudent assumption of your attributes, 
 their shameless profession of your follies, but 
 by their own value as men. Choose them 
 
120 
 
 THE TUFT-HUNTERS. 
 
 that they may derive honour from your names, 
 not that they may make those names ridi- 
 culous. 
 
 What shall we say to the world at large? 
 Tuft-hunting is part of their vanity, and that 
 is great enough. Yet, is there a man who 
 does not express the most cordial detestation 
 for Tuft-hunting, although his own practice 
 condemn his words? Politicians talk of 
 equalization of rights, and public spirit, 
 and then dine with peers, and sell them- 
 selves, and their constituents. Editors talk 
 of nature, liberty, religion, and fashion on 
 the same page, as if they were naturally 
 associated. Even the Church has its fashion, 
 and people whose whole life is one of heart- 
 lessness, if not profligacy, enter warmly into 
 questions of Church and State, and affect 
 the championship of what they can only dis- 
 grace. 
 
 Yv r e have now written twelve chapters of 
 
THE TUFT-HUNTERS. 
 
 121 
 
 and ajjainst Tuft-hunters, and our artist has 
 assisted us in exposing this race of humbugs to 
 the scorn of mankind. But do we believe 
 that we shall reform the world, and abolish 
 Tuft-hunting? Sincerely, then, we do not. 
 
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