s. But already this was becoming a vermiform appendix, and the
nineteenth century did away with it. This handsome abbreviation created
an invidious distinction between citizens which democracy refused longer
to countenance; and, much as a Lenin would destroy the value of money in
Russia by printing countless rouble notes without financial backing, so
democracy destroyed the distinctive value of the word 'gentleman' by
applying it indiscriminately to the entire male population of the United
States.

The gentleman continues in various degrees of perfection. There is no
other name for him, but one hears it rarely; yet the shining virtue of
democratization is that it has produced a kind of tacit agreement with
Chaucer's Parson that 'to have pride in the gentrie of the bodie is
right gret folie; for oft-time the gentrie of the bodie benimeth the
gentrie of the soul; and also we be all of one fader and one moder.' And
although there are few men nowadays who would insist that they _are_
gentlemen, there is probably no man living in the United States who
would admit that he isn't.

And so I now see that my bright dream of a Correspondence-School
post-graduate course cannot be realized. No bank president, no
corporation director, electrical engineer, advertising expert,
architect, or other distinguished alumnus would confess himself no
gentleman by _marking that coupon_. The suggestion would be an insult,
were it affectionately made by the good old president of his Alma Mater
in a personal letter. A few decorative cards, to be hung up in the
office, might perhaps be printed and mailed at graduation.

A bath _every_ day
Is the Gentleman's way.

Don't break the Ten Commandments--
Moses meant YOU!

Dress Well--Behave Better.

A Perfect Gentleman has a Good Heart,
a Good Head, a Good Wardrobe,
and a Good Conscience.

AS A MAN DRESSES

At some time or other, I dare say, it is common experience for a man to
feel indignant at the necessity of dressing himself. He wakes in the
morning. Refreshed with sleep, ready and eager for his daily tasks and
pleasures, he is just about to leap out of bed when the thought
confronts him that he must put on his clothes. His leap is postponed
indefinitely, and he gets up with customary reluctance. One after
another, twelve articles--eleven, if two are joined in union one and
inseparable--must be buttoned, tied, laced, and possibly safety