r in deference to the advice of Hardy, he had
actually fixed on the books which he should send in for his
little-go examination before going down for the Easter vacation,
and had read them through at home, devoting an hour or two almost
daily to this laudable occupation. So he felt himself entitled to
take things easily on his return. He had brought back with him
two large hampers of good sound wine, a gift from his father, who
had a horror of letting his son set before his friends the
fire-water which is generally sold to the undergraduate. Tom
found that his father's notions of the rate of consumption
prevalent in the university were wild in the extreme. "In his
time," the squire said, "eleven men came to his first wine party,
and he had opened nineteen bottles of port for them. He was very
glad to hear that the habits of the place had changed so much for
the better; and as Tom wouldn't want nearly so much wine, he
should have it out of an older bin." Accordingly, the port which
Tom employed the first hour after his return in stacking
carefully away in his cellar, had been more than twelve years in
bottle, and he thought with unmixed satisfaction of the pleasing
effect it would have on Jervis and Miller, and the one or two
other men who knew good wine from bad, and guided public opinion
on the subject, and of the social importance which he would soon
attain from the reputation of giving good wine.

The idea of entertaining, of being hospitable, is a pleasant and
fascinating one to most young men; but the act soon gets to be a
bore to all but a few curiously constituted individuals. With
these hospitality becomes first a passion and then a faith--a
faith the practice of which, in the cases of some of its
professors, reminds one strongly of the hints on such subjects
scattered about the New Testament. Most of us feel, when our
friends leave us a certain sort of satisfaction, not unlike that
of paying a bill; they have been done for, and can't expect
anything more for a long time. Such thoughts never occur to your
really hospitable man. Long years of narrow means cannot hinder
him from keeping open house for whoever wants to come to him, and
setting the best of everything before all comers. He has no
notion of giving you anything but the best he can command if it
be only fresh porter from the nearest mews. He asks himself not,
"Ought I to invite A or B? do I owe him anything?" but, "Would A
or B like to come here?" Gi