never, if a well-taught cab-horse, to voluntarily stop or attempt to stop at doors because he has often stopped at them before: this is only the habit of butchers', bakers', and such plebeian horses. The baker may be proud and feel it his interest to stop at my lady's or other ladies' doors; but though our scion of nobility or aristocracy may also at times stop at the same doors, it might be extremely inconvenient that his horse should indicate that his master did so. There are also numberless other places where our pink of haut ton often calls, in that questionable light of an hour or two before dinner, that it would not do if Mr. Cab-horse in broad day evidently shewed he was in the habit of visiting; some inhabited by good souls who never refuse a few hundreds to a spirited minor who has some old hunks of a father who is illiberal enough to wish to prevent a sucking lordling or heir spending his patrimony before he gets it. Then there are other locales, where snuff-boxes, rings, dressing-cases, bronzes, and all sorts of things of such ilk, are sold, bought, exchanged, and sometimes-" name it not in Gath!"-left in return for certain small cards, and certain advances of coin of the same colour as those portentous globes that indicate a something being two to one against the punter. Why three should be the still existing number seems extraordinary, when the odds have increased so wonderfully in favour of the banker. But it must not be supposed that it follows as a matter of course it is absolutely necessary that the critically-arranged and made-up person of the votary of fashion should betake itself to the owner of these golden worlds; there are more aristocratic places where silver and gold plate is exhibited, that to the initiated are equally well-known, where the same sort of business is transacted to larger amounts. These mammoth contrebandiers in this trade are sad stumbling-blocks in the way of the honest man of balls. God bless them, one and all of the fraternity! though the number three may mean that it is two to one he will not do so. However, my good wishes are the same.

Having here stated some actions that the cab-horse must not perpetrate, we must look to the action he must have. This is precisely that which some fifty years since would have caused him to be rejected by any good judge as a "clamberer"-a style of going then considered as of the very worst sort; and so, in fact, it is for use, for such goers must tire. It is true Rattler, Mr. Osbaldiston's horse, had extraordinary lofty action, yet was uncommonly speedy, and could "last at it." The miser's horse had just begun to live without food, but he died; so poor Rattler did a long match, but he died also; and I doubt not that had his action been less fatiguing, he would not have done so. But the cab-horse is only wanted for show; so the more parade he makes about what he does, the better he is thought of: in truth, this is pretty much the same with men now-adays. One animal of this sort (I mean a horse), not long since, was actually bought at seven hundred guineas, solely from his lofty

action.

I must here observe I am using obsolete terms in mentioning high and lofty, I will therefore make my reader au fait of the one he must now make use of.

Going to one of our tip-toppers as a dealer, to look at a horse for a

friend, I was assured that when I saw him out I should find "he possessed every essential of a most superior animal, with most aspiring action." I much fear me I was Goth enough to stare more than a little. What can make amends for having been born before 1820? Nothing, but to be a west-end dealer of 1847. As for my poor self, after some few observations on other metropolitan horses, I shall go to school again to learn the proper choice and application of words, that I may venture to look at a horse without betraying my igno

Democritus and Heraclitus have set an example to the world; and the world has followed it from time immemorial. One half laughs at everything and everybody: the other half sees nothing but occasion for lamentation and melancholy in what excites their neighbours' mirth. The followers of the one can appreciate nothing that calls forth reflection or sympathy, and look upon existence as a farce: the followers of the other are as anxious to draw the curtains of sadness over the sunshine of life, and are only satisfied in believing themselves present at an interminable tragedy. I like a genteel comedy; and it is by far the pleasantest form in which to recognise the changes of fortune. In the merriest scenes preserve a becoming recollection of what may happen; in the saddest believe in a happy termination. These are mild and philosophic reflections upon the cold, which, with unabated vigour, continues to freeze the faculties. Who but a philosopher could write with common decency about the first fortnight of the past month? Who but a philosopher could tell (with fingers aching from frost on the 2nd of March) of sport almost beyond hoping for? Still, it must have an end; and I as little believe in a winter without an average quantity of sport, as I do in a summer without roses. If sport depended alone upon the will and capacity of a master of hounds, Mr. Payne would not be without it for a day; and with all the opposition of the elements, I believe he may, this season, boast of as good as, if not better than, any pack of hounds in England.

February opened gloomily enough for us here, as elsewhere-snow and frost; and in the first fortnight we only stole a day or two. The first symptom of scent was about the beginning of the third week; and

the Warwickshire astonished the world with three smart steeple-chases one Thursday morning, on this side of their country-the first of about seventeen minutes, the second about twenty minutes, the last not more than ten-killing two foxes, and running the second to ground. The field was perfectly awful; and, out of three or four hundred persons, those may be excused who failed to recognise a "commercial gentleman." He formed an important feature in the day's amusement, and, beyond all question, led through the first run from Hillmorton gorse. I have the highest respect for "bagmen," but do'nt like them when they go before the hounds. I hardly know why I mentioned the Warwickshire : they are near neighbours; and having mentioned them, I ought not to leave you in ignorance of the rattling pace they can go-fortunately for them; for I think they might stand a chance of being ridden over. In the part of their country bordering on the Pytchley they have a staunch supporter in a gentleman of good fortune; as much admired by his equals for his urbanity and good breeding, as he is beloved by his dependants and inferiors for his liberality and kindness. And I have understood that Captain Hibbert, of Bilton Grange, establishes the character of the Warwickshire Hunt in his neighbourhood, by ample presents of game, and similar remuneration for damage, to those worthy preservers of foxes, of whom the midland counties are so justly proud. So much for the Warwickshire. The fact is, that having nothing to do with Warwickshire, if they were to see this, they might very well remind me of it. However, as it's only for your amusement, and not theirs, it makes no great difference. When I live in Leamington I shall take care to give you a faithful account of their proceedings; till then, a brief notice is as much as I can give, or you feel interested in reading. Still, I hate to say, even to you, behind a man's back what I would'nt say before his face. The same holds good of a hunt; and if you've any Warwickshire friends (as I have, and very good ones too) show them this, and ask if it's a libel, excepting by its truth. In the mean time their censure, 66 ne sutor ultra crepidam," would be just, so I'll go on to the Pytchley again.

Of Crick, I gave you a full description once before I give you anything but a full one now. The gorse was drawn blank; so was Yelvertoft; a bad fox was found near Winwick, in one of the numerous spinneys; and a good one, if I remember right, at Cank-a cover which has afforded some excellent sport this season The consequence of waiting to the end of this day, Friday, the 19th, was a most excellent thing. What a lovely thing, too, is a good brook in the middle of a run, if you happen to be on a brook jumper! Mr. Newdigate, who was out, must have fully appreciated his horse's qualities in that respect (the most really brilliant quality a hunter can possess); for he cleared nineteen feet of water comfortably. Lord Henley was not so fortunate, for he rode at the same place and got as comfortably in. The rest cut itsmall blame to them, if any-and got over or through, as the case might be, at easier distances. I remember Newdigate a freshman at Christ Church; the impression he made as a sportsman has never been effaced, and first impressions go a great way. In his case it has He is the brilliant man across country that he then He was then hard to beat, even by such men as Tom Price or Alfred Wodehouse-he is now harder. His nerve is undeniable,

deceived no one.

bid fair to be.

and, consequently, his start is always a good one. I said consequently, for nine times out of ten a good place is to be effected in the beginning of the run by two or three big fences; and Mr. Newdigate is quite sportsman enough to do this without pressing too much upon hounds as yet unsettled to their work; a fault, the ill effects of which are not sufficiently understood by modern fields. Add to this, that he turns to hounds very quickly, rides good horses, looking much to blood, and that he is not afraid of pace-the thing of all others which, strange to say, frightens most men. For every one man that will gallop in right down earnest, you may find twenty that will ride over fences.

On this occasion, as on the following day, Brixworth poured forth its flood of Cockneyism upon Mr. Payne's hounds. You know, I don't mean the men who are at those quarters for the legitimate purpose of hunting. On the contrary, they are a most gentlemanly and sportsmenlike set of men, and muster amongst them the best intentions-I hope they don't pave the ditches. Lord Clifden, Messrs. Cathcart and Wingfield are not the men to have spoilt a run by exhibiting needlessly over fences, though generally to be found in their proper places; and Mr. Colville, who is in the same village for the season, is beyond par as a sportsman and a workman over a country. I'll tell you whom I mean in a minute. Misterton, formerly in the hands of that splendid horseman, Lord Howth, is now let to Sir Thomas Hesketh; a great acquisition to the neighbourhood of Lutterworth. He has a good stud of horses standing there, is hospitable and kind to his neighbours and brother sportsmen, and foremost in goodness and charity to the poor. He is passionately fond of hunting; naturally so of a country like ours: and as he is quite a young man, we hope to have him, at least within reach, for many many seasons. An excellent run of two hours and twenty-five minutes was the result of a meet at his house on the 20th: too long, I admit, for my fancy-but one can't have everything; and part of this was a good pace. This reminds me of the Cockneyism of Brixworth and its neighbourhood. Those detestable steeple-chases, which can answer no good end save only the getting a pot of money and killing some wornout race-horses, had brought out all the world. I'm not exclusive, as you know-if Styles and Noakes like steeple-chasing, let them make a match at Jackson's grounds with Thompson and Johnson; or if they will, for a while, forget that they have a "local habitation and a name, such as they are, why! let them come to Brixworth and enjoy the country air for a day or two, and go back again to London after potting their favourite and dropping their hard-earned tin-but I do strongly protest against the use of leather breeches with a Moses' pink, not from any love of hunting they possess, but for the pleasure of talking of the sport they might have had, but helped to spoil, with the Pytchley. Sportsmen are what we love, old fogies, like you and me; and we had rather see five-and-twenty minutes with George Payne than the five-andtwenty best steeple-chases in England. On the present occasion the hounds were very much over-ridden; and that, and an accident, of which you will be sorry to hear, was the main cause of their not killing their fox. Mr. Payne's horse, in crossing a field, strained or ricked himself in such a manner that he was unable to clear the fence when he came up to it, and, I believe, broke his back. At all events, poor Lucifer is dead. Such accidents are painful enough at all times; but you will agree with

me, that when they happen to such men as George Payne, and in a noble endeavour to gratify his fellow-creatures, they are doubly so. I fear he was one of his best horses, and, think I heard him say, a great favourite. This was the accident to which I alluded: the field wanted sadly keeping in order in the absence of the master. However, we may dismiss Styles and Noakes and Thompson and Johnson for the presenthappily the week saw them out; and they are now deeply buried in speculations upon the Great Liverpool event. I wish the hounds in the neighbourhood joy of their company the day after, especially if they win. Amongst the meets which I have not mentioned to you is Sulby, remarkable, not as a meet, but as the seat of George Payne, and the scene of more hospitality and pleasure than most places in England. A really bad meet is not easy to be met with in our country-a comparatively bad one is to be met with everywhere. Had it afforded the best fox in Northamptonshire, the day would not have been remembered without regret for the absence of the Honourable Frederick Villiers-" Dies carbone notanda." He is away from home; and as the illness of one of his family is the cause, we doubly sympathise with him. To say that he is a gentleman, is to say nothing for one of his name and blood. Next to a 66 gentleman" we love a sportsman here; and he is both-at least he is the latter, if a quick eye to country, and the readiest way of getting across it, with a view to hounds, constitute one. His stud is excellent but the best stud in the world, with a muff for its master, might as well be out of the country as in it. Mr. Villiers is too good a sportsman to excite the jealousy of the hardest riders, and too good a rider for the most orthodox sportsman to deny him a forward place with hounds. Soon may he be restored to us; and long may he remain with us. If he likes our company as much as we like his, it will not be a trifle that takes him away. He not only never spoilt a run, but every run we have will be the better for his company.

By the way, I never told you of the number of strangers who occasionally honour us with their company. In almost all the country on the other side of London there is a regular settled field-men, to see whom is as natural as to see daylight (I don't mean between them and the saddle), and whom not to see creates a sort of wonder in the country. Lord Brushemorf, on his flea-bitten grey; Notes, the banker; The Honourable Fly-by-Night, Old Stole-away, and twenty or thirty more, are as constant in their attendance upon the Padanhoof hounds as the postman, chimney-sweep, and dustmen are to a London Christmas. In our country such regular characters are equally constant; but we have three times the number of fickle, changeable creatures, who first flirt with us, then with the Quorn, then with the Warwickshire, and then-with us again, for it all ends in that; and happy would it be if every flirtation ended in the same happy manner.

"On revient toujours

A ces premiéres amours."

But, generally speaking, one is such an enormous time before the final return to a first love, that the anxiety to see us very much abates on the part of the lady. This is not the case with hounds; their excellence is tested in a day; and it gives us great pleasure to see strangers out with us, who, with every regard for their own sport, can refrain from robbing