him, especially as this was only a piece of profit, and he wished for a scene of humour for his next operation. It soon offered, and did honour to Mr. Merriton's genius.

Notwithstanding the expectations kindled by his honourable patron, and an unheard-of expense in, among other luxuries of the kind, a rose-water bidet, and a basin of Eau de Cologne for his barber to dip his fingers in when he shaved him, poor Shanks did not advance into good company as he had hoped. The truth is, Merriton could not carry his own point of hoaxing the parvenu, from the unwillingness of his friends to join in it; not from any consideration for him, but lest it should necessarily lead to an intercourse which they could not, in decency, shake off. Merriton's love of sport, however, at last succeeded, salvo honore, of his dignified friends.

Having settled his plan with a few leaders, he engaged his protégé to give a great dinner. "We don't get on as we ought," said he to him one day, " and I think it is because we are not bold enough. The progress by attempts at mere cap acquaintance is slow and doubtful. What think you of giving a grand dinner to a dozen tufts at once? Few will resist turtle and burgundy."

"I should have no objection," said the aspirant, "but I don't know them."

“Leave that to me," answered Merriton; "I will prepare a list of the very best company, while you go to the Star and order the very best dinner that Adams can furnish; all the luxuries in or out of season;

fruits and wines, such as may vie with Blenheim itself. But mind, you must be prepared for a large bill. Fifty, at least."

"I should not mind that," returned our parvenu, "if you are sure it will secure the company you propose."

"I have already settled it with them," replied Merriton.

And so he had-and in a way which will scarcely be credited, except by those who know how far the love of hoaxing, and particularly of hoaxing an upstart who looks beyond his place, will carry young men of quality. In fact, those to whom Merriton opened his design said they had no objection to make Shanks give a dinner to cost fifty pounds, and to eat part of it too, if it could be so contrived as not to give him a claim upon their acquaintance afterwards-which they did not feel to be possible after they had sat at his own table with him.

To this difficulty the genius of Merriton supplied a remedy, and he promised that Shanks should not sit down with them, nor even see them, provided they would fairly attend.

Having obtained this promise from fourteen or fifteen of them, he thus set to work with his victim. "You see, my good Shanks," said he, "the only thing you want to gratify your praiseworthy ambition, and become one of us, is to get a name—to be talked of as one, not only indifferent to money, but superior to all forms and ceremonies, and perfectly independent of the society you wish to enter. It is your having

courted them so much that has perhaps prevented you hitherto from succeeding. Now if you can shew this indifference after they have shewn themselves ready to banquet with you, it will be a triumph to you for ever, and only make them more desirous to cultivate you."

"The object seems excellent,” replied Shanks, "but how is it to be brought about ?"

"Why thus," said Merriton. "Your dinner is to-morrow: the account of it, its luxuries, and expense of all kinds, together with a list of the company, all their titles set forth, is already preparing for the Oxford paper. Four tufts, and ten silk gowns, seven of them honourables, all printed by name. Now what if you should coolly mount your fine hunter in the morning, and join the duke* (it is one of his days, you know); then, just about dinner-time, let me have a note from you, telling me carelessly (as if you did not value either your fine dinner, or fine company, a rush), that the sport would probably detain you so long, that you are sorry you will not be able to attend ; but you must request me to do the honours for you, and not to spare the champagne; and conclude by hoping that you will not be missed, et cetera, et cetera. Don't you think this would shew an admirable nonchalance, and put you not only upon an equality, but greatly above the guests who are supposed to do you such honour, but for whom, while you feed them nobly, you thus shew such a dignified indifference?”

* Duke of Beaufort.

"I really think it an admirable plan," said Courtenay Waldegrave.

as may

"All this, too, you will remember,” added Merriton, "will be in the Oxford papers, with the account of the dinner, and upon my word, with such a paragraph be made of it, your name will be up for ever." Mr. Shanks was, it seems, completely beguiled by this flattering proposal of the traitor Merriton, and fell at once into the snare. The guests assembled; the dinner was superb; the note was brought; Merriton took the chair amid roars of laughter from his brother hoaxers, and the evening passed off with the utmost conviviality, said the Oxford paper, though, to the regret of the noble visitors, without the presence of the master of the feast.

But though this devotee of a foolish ambition thus lost a magnificent dinner, for which he was to pay, while others ate it, he was not allowed to reap the reward of his folly. Sallying forth the next day to take possession of his honours, and looking right and left for his new acquaintance, to his dismay, as well as astonishment, none of them would recognise him. Some cut him dead; some crossed the street the moment they saw him; and the most favourable just jerked their chins, said a short yes! to his remark that it was a fine day, and hastily passed on.

He was in amaze, and betook himself to his counsellor for explanation, who assured him he could not account for it, for all thought the dinner exquisite; but he could not help perceiving, he said, that they shewed symptoms of jealousy, nay, perhaps, were a

"This,

little angry at being so cavalierly treated. however, my good friend," added Merriton, "makes for you, and proves what I said it would-your superiority to them all.”

This entirely satisfied Mr. Shanks for a time; till by degrees, the continued slights of his noble friends, and the titter of those of his own rank wherever he appeared, to say nothing of the clear exposure of the trick by his tutor, Fothergill, convinced him of the truth.

He debated at first whether he should not call out Merriton, who got immortal honour among all ranks for the ingenious hoax ; but of this he thought better, and the only result was, that Merriton himself avoided him, for fear, as he said, of consequences; in truth, to use his own language, having done with the vulgar dog.

The effect of all this was, that Mr. Shanks removed from Oxford sooner than he would have done, and did what he could to hush up the story. Nevertheless, the old leaven continued to poison him; indeed how could it be otherwise, with such a father? Accordingly, he sought his idol in every place and under every form, with more or less success; though often he egregiously failed. Thus, it was whispered that on the race-course at Epsom he once made up to a youthful marquess, whose ruling passion was the turf, which, while in operation, levels all distinctions, and who so far relented as to enter into a bet with him of £300 on a favourite horse. Shanks expected, nay hoped, to lose; but for the sake of so cheap a purchase of the