he was sent to Eton, preparatory to going to Oxford.

He then got through his studies in some manner, though it was
generally understood by his mates that he was better acquainted
with the brands of his favorite liquors and cigars than he was
with the works of the authors which filled up the list of his
college curriculum.

But when he entered Oxford he threw off all restraint and gave
himself up to a life of utter dissipation, and before long his
father received a polite note from the college authorities,
intimating that to save further disgrace he had better call his
worthy son home.

After this he became a dissipated tavern lounger, a barnacle on
the good ship of society, a miserable sponge.

He soon found, as he sententiously expressed it, that it was not
agreeable for him to remain under the kindly shelter of the
paternal mansion; so he, prodigal like, took the portion his
father gave him and spent it in riotous living. But he was
determined not to feed on husks, if unmitigated cheek and
unblushing effrontery could bring him better fare.

It was while he was a gentleman lounger about town he first met
Richard Ashton, who, at that time, had become too much demoralized
to be very choice in the selection of his associates. And Ginsling
was rather intelligent--had a fine person and pleasing address,
and had it not been for his moral depravity and lack of every
noble instinct, he might have made his mark in society.