Men who spend their evenings after this fashion, are apt to be surprised that they cannot cross a country with the coolness and judgment of their earlier years. They wonder why they are beat by Farmer Styles, who rides a raw four-year-old, but who gets up with the sun, and has his beer with his dinner at one o’clock. They envy my Lord’s iron nerves and fresh-coloured face, notwithstanding his grizzled hair, and do not consider that the peer has gone to bed with a clear head and a good conscience every night for the last forty years. Some days they get their courage up, and go as well as ever; but these inspiriting occasions become fewer and fewer, and at last they either give up their favourite amusement altogether, or, worse still, spend a large proportion of their time and income in a pursuit from which they have long ceased to derive either pleasure or profit. The Honourable Crasher, though he smoked a great deal, had neither spirits nor inclination to drink much; consequently, notwithstanding his languor and apparent debility, he had preserved the integrity of his nervous system. Mr. Sawyer too, with a vigorous constitution, unimpaired by previous excesses, was not materially affected by these orgies, although his mouth was very dry in the mornings. All the rest, for the first ten minutes, rode more or less in a funk. Nevertheless, volumes of smoke curled around the Committee, and the thirst for brandy-and-soda seemed unquenched, unquenchable. They had discussed the usual topics which enliven the dullness of a bachelor party. They had gone through the different subjects which arise in inevitable rotation. From the merits of horses and the shortcomings of riders, they had proceeded to the fascinations of the other sex, and from that again had, of course, returned to the inexhaustible theme, the merits of horses, once more. Major Brush, slightly excited, was the first to cross-question Mr. Sawyer about his stud. Hitherto they had treated our friend with the deference due to a stranger; but he was now to be considered one of themselves, and bantered or otherwise accordingly. “You never ride that bay horse of yours, Sawyer,” said the Major, in an off-hand, free-and-easy sort of way. “I like him in the stable, better than anything you’ve got.” “Good horse,” replied Mr. Sawyer laconically. “Goes as fast as you can clap your hands.”