Perhaps I speak with some little partiality.

It may not be for me to say that I have been called, for some years now, Gentleman Turveydrop, or that his Royal Highness the Prince Regent did me the honour to inquire, on my removing my hat as he drove out of the Pavilion at Brighton (that fine building), 'Who is he?
Who the devil is he?
Why don't I know him?
Why hasn't he thirty thousand a year ?' But these are little matters of anecdote--the general property, ma'am--still repeated occasionally among the upper classes." "Indeed ?" said I.
He replied with the high-shouldered bow.

"Where what is left among us of deportment," he added, "still lingers.

England--alas, my country!--has degenerated very much, and is degenerating every day.
She has not many gentlemen left.

We are few.