e London Wine Company, and
the viands by Mr. Wayte.

About two o'clock in the morning, our friends took their departure
from this romantic spot, after an excursion fraught with pleasure and
delight.

On the following morning, Sparkle received a letter from Merrywell,
with information of the death of his uncle, and of his succession to
the estate, having arrived just in time to prevent his decease without a
will. This was a subject of exultation to all the party, though to none
more so than Sparkle, particularly as the estate alluded to was situated
in the neighbourhood of his own residence.

"Merrywell," said Dashall, "will become a gay fellow now, as he will
have ample means, as well as inclination (which I know he has never been
wanting of) to sport his figure in good style, without resorting to any
scheme to keep the game alive."

"True," said Sparkle, "without crossing and jostling, and if he has
his own good in view, he will reside chiefly in the country, choose
an amiable partner for life, and only pay a visit to the metropolis
occasionally; for to live in this land of temptations, where you can
hardly step across the way without getting into error, must be baneful
in effect to a young man like him, of an ardent mind. What say you,
friend Tallyho?"

"I confess," replied Bob, "that I entertain thoughts very similar
to yours; besides, I apprehend that our old friend Merrywell has had
sufficient experience himself to admit the justice of your observation."

~~337~~~ "Pshaw," rejoined Dashall, "you are getting completely
unfashionable. What can be more bang up than a Life in London--high life
and low life--shake the castor, tip the flash, and nibble the blunt.
Look for instance at young Lord Lappit--cares for nothing--all blood and
spirit--fire and tow--up to every thing, and down as a hammer."

"His is a general case," replied Sparkle, "and is only one among
numerous others, to prove that many of the disorders which are daily
visible in high life, may be traced to the education, or rather the want
of education of the youthful nobility and gentry. It would be a shocking
and insupportable degradation to send a sprig of fashion to school among
common boys, where probably he might learn something really useful. No,
no,--he must have a private tutor, who is previously instructed to teach
him nothing more than what will enable him to pass muster, as not quite
a fool. Under this guidance, he skims over a few authors