e became of age, mortgaged part of his land to buy a mare
and stallion, and bred horses for the course. He was at first very
successful, and gained several of the king's plates, as he is now every
day boasting, at the expense of very little more than ten times their
value. At last, however, he discovered, that victory brought him more
honour than profit: resolving, therefore, to be rich as well as
illustrious, he replenished his pockets by another mortgage, became on a
sudden a daring bettor, and resolving not to trust a jockey with his
fortune, rode his horse himself, distanced two of his competitors the
first heat, and at last won the race by forcing his horse on a descent
to full speed at the hazard of his neck. His estate was thus repaired,
and some friends that had no souls advised him to give over; but Ned now
knew the way to riches, and therefore without caution increased his
expenses. From this hour he talked and dreamed of nothing but a
horse-race; and rising soon to the summit of equestrian reputation, he
was constantly expected on every course, divided all his time between
lords and jockeys, and, as the unexperienced regulated their bets by his
example, gained a great deal of money by laying openly on one horse and
secretly on the other. Ned was now so sure of growing rich, that he
involved his estate in a third mortgage, borrowed money of all his
friends, and risked his whole fortune upon Bay Lincoln. He mounted with
beating heart, started fair, and won the first heat; but in the second,
as he was pushing against the foremost of his rivals, his girth broke,
his shoulder was dislocated, and before he was dismissed by the surgeon,
two bailiffs fastened upon him, and he saw Newmarket no more. His daily
amusement for four years has been to blow the signal for starting, to
make imaginary matches, to repeat the pedigree of Bay Lincoln, and to
form resolutions against trusting another groom with the choice of his
girth.

The next in seniority is Mr. Timothy Snug, a man of deep contrivance and
impenetrable secrecy. His father died with the reputation of more wealth
than he possessed: Tim, therefore, entered the world with a reputed
fortune of ten thousand pounds. Of this he very well knew that eight
thousand was imaginary: but being a man of refined policy, and knowing
how much honour is annexed to riches, he resolved never to detect his
own poverty; but furnished his house with elegance, scattered his money
with pr