The affectation of the present period is to despise the brush, and to regard it as the proper trophy of the worst-mounted or worsthearted man who happens to be out. We denounce this altogether as a refinement far more prejudicial than any of the many sins our ancestors have so often been made answerable for. Goodness knows we have hard-riding enough in fashion already, without our attempting to encourage any idea there should be an especial mark of worthy distinction for the fast and furious gentleman who spoilt the most sport, and killed the most hounds. Indeed we are much inclined to believe it was the care with which any honours or favours were withheld from the crack rider who could show he had sacrificed everything to the great fact of being first from end to end, that gave rise to this holding the brush in derision. The steeple-chasers found that riding at the queerest places, and at the most awful paces, were not considered as the surest signs of a sportsman, and so they d-d the fox, and d-d the hounds, and eased their minds by pounding each other. To the true sportsman, however, the man who can enjoy the hunting as well as the riding part of a run, the brush should (as we cannot help even now thinking it must) come as a grateful compliment, and one that he will prize as highly and preserve as strictly as the victors at the Olympic games did their simple crowns of laurel. Despise the brush of a quick-flying, fairly-killed fox, and quiz the man who, without beating three horses or risking nine lives, is up in time to accept it! Nonsense, sheer nonsense! and as such don't attend to one word of it, sir-there, don't go and cram it into your pocket as if it was your shame rather than glory to get it; but stick it, coram populo, in your hat; kiss your wife under it, drink "the noble science" in honour of it, and finally nail it to the portrait of "the little nabob" who left you his blessing and his banker's book. Cheapen the credit of first-class honours at Cambridge, discredit the dangers of elephant ivories in India, calculate the expenses of gold cups at Ascot, weigh over the fatigues of rifle-pierced bucks in Ben-y-ghloe; but take the brush of a Bicester-bred fox sans peur et sans reproche.

From this indirect argument on his behalf we are induced to hope our readers will not be too hard on the good servant whose enthusiasm has made him so hard on poor reynard. There is little doubt, from his excited attitude, he for one at least has still something like a proper respect for the honour he is insuring; and this must be our plea with Mr. Thomas, and "The Act" for not enforcing the penalty some Solons may fancy such conduct incurs. There is a spirit and dash about the whole group quite in keeping with the true character of fox-hunting; and only provided the operator will finish the subject with as much heart and soul in it as he now evinces, we'll grant him a free pardon forthwith. We must confess, above all things, that we do like to see a fox well worried-to see a man join in with his hounds, cheering and encouraging them as if they really had done a day's work worth speaking of-to ring out the death-halloa with all his voice and all his strength, to dwell as it were for a moment in the ecstasy of his triumph, and then throw him amongst them with a who-whoop that shows there can be little more to be wished for. And yet we are half afraid, again, all this is going out of fashion too,

thanks to the gentleman-huntsman, highly-respectable, dog-whistle way of doing business that has now in some quarters become so popular. May better luck be on us, if we haven't seen some of these latter-day saints dispose of a well-dusted, fairly-beaten fox, with an icy, nothing-surprises-me sort of air, that would shame the funereal rites of a rabbit, and even elevate by comparison the take of the stag. It is over-refinement, we repeat, and as such we would not encourage it; a huntsman should not only have a head, a spirit, and a voice, but the will to make good use of them; and on these terms we would rather have our day with Tom Hills and the Old Surrey, than follow in the wake of the mighty hunter who gets his fox away by dumb motions, and breaks him up with just common civility. Many of our changes in dress, and things of that kind, it is well-known were originally started by some leading personage to conceal a deformity, or take attention from some otherwise obvious scarcity in nature's gifts; and to something of the same system we believe might be traced the extra-quiet, inanimate style of hunting hounds. Depend upon it, there is either a want of proper power or real heart for the sport in the majority of those who adopt the new mode; and so would we consequently advise all who feel they can, to avoid it. In the heat and zeal of the chace it is the custom of the old country to overlook almost anything a man may do in order to be with his hounds; and surely then it shouldn't be possible to argue from the actions of any one so favoured that he himself neither felt, nor wished to feel, such an abandonment to the scene as the opera critics have it. We say, however, that taking up a fox with the same cool indifference an old gamester pockets the pool, or a well-worked jockey removes his saddle from the winner of the plate, has a tendency to such an effect-at the same time that the thorough animation in our print proves it one no ways suited for honour or favour in this book.

A FEW REMARKS ON TRAINING RACE-HORSES.

BY HARRY HIEOVER.

I believe it will be allowed by most persons (excepting those immediately interested in denying it) that there is a very considerable portion of mystification, not to say deception, practised in all trades and professions. "There are tricks in all trades" is an adage nearly as old as the tricks themselves. I pay the tricks the compliment of giving them precedence in point of seniority, as I conclude their practice gave origin to the adage.

To enumerate the different sort of tricks practised in the different pursuits of making money, would, when relating to each particular trade or profession, first require the space of a very respectable folio volume, and secondly, require the enumerator and describer of them

to have served a close apprenticeship to that particular pursuit; and then unless he had kept both his eyes and ears open, he would not be au fait de son métier.

We will, to make as short work as possible of the subject now in hand, classify these tricks under the following heads:

Tricks to make a great appearance of business when, in truth, there is but little doing; these tricks are pretty much in vogue now every where, but more particularly so in London; this leads to a very considerable consumption of large panes of plate-glass for windows, marble fronts and gilt letters on the outside, Turkey carpets, splendid mirrors, and a host of white cravated young gentlemen inside, a temporary considerable increase of the income tax to be in keeping with appearances, and also to considerable employment of the attention of Messrs. Commissioners Bruce, Fane, and Fonblanque.

Tricks to get the greatest possible sums of money from our pockets, for the least possible equivalent in point of value, are not only in considerable practice in London, but are liberally diffused all over the world, by those seeking to make money whether in trade or professionally; there is, however, a very considerable difference in the way in which the same desideratum on the part of the supplier is effected as regards the supplied. The tradesman gives as little as possible of any thing, both in quality and quantity. Our legal adviser gives as little as possible, in point of quantity, of time, words, or writing, for a given sum; but in justice to him, we must allow that what he gives is effectual and to the (that is his) purpose. Our medical friend is in no way niggard of his attentions in regard to their frequency, he only HAS us as to their duration; such friends "come like shadows, so depart." The balm of life they send us is never deficient in quantity-it is by the quantity they live: whether we do the same thing by the quality is another affair. One thing must, to their honour, be allowed: a considerable portion of their balm does neither good nor harm in its effects.

Of this innocuous quality, the balm for our minds distributed once a week by our spiritual guardians often largely partakes: where it does, charity should induce us to hope and believe it is in point of quality the very best they have to give. From those to whom much is given, much might be expected. This, I apprehend, means when what is given and what is expected is of the same kind; for it in no shape follows that where much money is given, much sense is to be expected in return. Here charity again teaches us not to be unreasonable in our expectations of sense; and charity has had too many lessons to be very sanguine in her anticipations of any great return in money for her use.

Then there are mystification tricks. Now these are in a great degree harmless, and perhaps even justifiable; for, as few men can learn any business without a considerable outlay of time and money, it is natural enough that they should wish to make their business appear as complicated and as difficult of attainment as possible. "Live, and let live," is a common if not a very refined mode of expressing a particular feeling among persons connected with trade. This, I believe, means that the carpenter should not do a job that it is the particular

U