not shudder at the thought of descending into the lists to combat
with it, and expect anything but to be utterly crushed in the
encounter?

* The author, it must be remembered, has his lodgings and food
provided for him by the government of his country.

Not a bit of it, my dear sir. It takes much more than you think for
to starve a man. Starvation is very little when you are used to it.
Some people I know even, who live on it quite comfortably, and make
their daily bread by it. It had been our friend Macshane's sole
profession for many years; and he did not fail to draw from it such
a livelihood as was sufficient, and perhaps too good, for him. He
managed to dine upon it a certain or rather uncertain number of days
in the week, to sleep somewhere, and to get drunk at least three
hundred times a year. He was known to one or two noblemen who
occasionally helped him with a few pieces, and whom he helped in
turn--never mind how. He had other acquaintances whom he pestered
undauntedly; and from whom he occasionally extracted a dinner, or a
crown, or mayhap, by mistake, a goldheaded cane, which found its way
to the pawnbroker's. When flush of cash, he would appear at the
coffee-house; when low in funds, the deuce knows into what mystic
caves and dens he slunk for food and lodging. He was perfectly
ready with his sword, and when sober, or better still, a very little
tipsy, was a complete master of it; in the art of boasting and lying
he had hardly any equals; in shoes he stood six feet five inches;
and here is his complete signalement. It was a fact that he had
been in Spain as a volunteer, where he had shown some gallantry, had
had a brain-fever, and was sent home to starve as before.