sports, if not so much to the matter born, as their rural brethren. The march of time has not only left behind it the Squire Westerns, but the Johnny Gilpins of the last century. Your journeyman tailor indeed may be still the same unchivalrous loon of whom Billy Button was the type; but the national love of manly sports has reached, as well as fashioned every gentleman of the nation. What their merchant-princes were to the tastes of the Sea Cybele of Tasso's time, our merchant-nobles are to those of the queen-city of the ocean in these days.

On the fair spring morning, which furnishes the time of our action, the "contrivance in operation was a little well-organized meeting for the patrons of the leash, held upon the finest sweep of uplands in the world-by grace of Mr. Felix Ledbroke. There was not a solitary point of "getting up" from the sporting couples in the slips to the John Bulls that were making stakes upon their pretensions. At most the company didn't muster two score-without a pair of patent leather jack-boots among the whole. The scene was in this wise: Along a valley, from which on either hand swept far and fair the velvet downs, walked leisurely a party of beaters. The summit of the ascent on their right was crowned by a considerable wood, while that to the left was without any kind of cover. Consequently, every hare put up made for the hill on the right hand. A little in advance of the beaters, and hidden from them by a strong thick hedge, which ran parallel with their line, the slipper moved with the greyhounds, matched for the course. The arrangement was worthy the occasion, and the result was some of the most brilliant runs I ever witnessed. The hares on these hills, having to go a considerable distance to feed, are not only kept in working condition, but acquire a hardihood unknown to those which frequent preserves and districts under high cultivation. Some of them would have been voted undeniable "witches" any where north of Tweed in many instances they beat their pursuers, at the end of three or four miles; and not only beat them, but put them hors de combat, for both greyhounds laid down more than once, with their game in view. Moreover, all was bonhommie and cordial good humour. If a fellow had gone to the scratch as full of bile as a marrow-bone, he must have retired from it the beau ideal of a philanthropist-a coursing Man of Ross.

A few days after this passage of the leash, there was a more sounding affair to call the energetic in woodcraft to Leatherhead Downs: perhaps a more literal Cockney contrivance, the ill-natured would render it. This was a meet of stag-hounds-of those especial to the countyhight The Surrey, consequently. My affair, however, is not in the present case with men, but manners. We are here to canvass the things done and the place of their achievements, not those by whom they are perpetrated; therefore, peradventure, our strain is so eulogistic. It treats of a place so picturesque as pen or pencil might tell-of a spot wherein Hygean might find a temple, and Diana an altar-of a region as sylvan as this island can help you to, and as enjoyable as the heart of moderate hope might desire. Now, it is not Melton-nor Marlborough -nor Salisbury Plain-but a section of suburban Surrey-the other side so to speak of Hungerford-bridge. But the first fair spring day that you can spare, and you can learn there is anything in the sporting very stirring on Leatherhead Downs-be advised-take the hint-there are more bungling things in woodcraft than COCKNEY CONTRIVANCES!

EB Spalding.

Make Ready.

"MAKE READY!”

ENGRAVED BY J. SCOTT, FROM A PAINTING BY E. B. SPALDING.

To stand the hazard of the die,
And set all hope upon the cast,
The storm to face, the cold defy,
And brave the fury of the blast-

For just one certain aim or so,
How often in this life we view
Man willingly all else forego

This special something to pursue!

Fame, fortune, or fair lady's smile,
Mere chance of power or place or pay,
Will-Wisp-like shall him on beguile,
And cheat the tiring, tedious way.

A way, though slow, yet far from sure;
A path too likely to be crossed;
One step, one word but premature,
And, almost gained, the prize is lost.

E'en so, with hope and nerve well braced,
When "dangerous silence" marks the hour,

The shooter seeks the watery waste,

Alone its nooks and creeks to scour.

Each turn and sign the timorous zeal
Of midnight sport has made him know,
And, with a smothered shivering, steal
Just inch by inch upon the foe.

And yet, one paddle roughly struck,

One tell-tale beam from yonder moon,
One whispering breeze-and not a duck
Shall wait the hurrying, awkward "loon."

For this one aim, his long, cold night;
That aim but gained and hark! the splash,
Which heralds "all creation's flight
As gone in one almighty smash!"

THE ITALIAN OPERA.-HER MAJESTY'S THEATRE.-This lyrical establishment has made the beginning of an early season, and notwithstanding the doubts, fears, and anxieties hazarded as to the probability of success crowning the efforts of the manager, it may be truly urged that seldom have the habitués of this monster house welcomed so glorious a commencement. Donizetti's "La Favorita," the opera selected for the opening, is not the chef d'oeuvre of that accomplished composer; yet withal there are many brilliancies which are rendered with great effect by the principal vocalists: of whom, a word of welcome to Gardoni the new tenor, Superchi the new barytone, and Bouché, the new bass. These are advents of no common order. Gardoni rejoices in a sweet and flexible organ, exceeding purity of taste, great impressiveness of style, and earnestness of manner. Since last year Madame Sanchioli has effected vast improvement, such as severe study, together with constant practice, would only impart. Her duet with Gardoni was most beautifully given, and rapturously received. The chorus has been well disciplined; accordingly the music is not so horribly mutilated as is too often the case. The ballet of " Coralia" is remarkable for the début of Marie Taglioni a name that will not suffer any discredit from this youthful representative of the choregraphic art. She possesses to a degree all the attributes of an art that she bids fair to shine in at no distant period. The other new danseuse, Mademoiselle Rosati, is remarkably graceful in all her pas. The last scene of this ballet is a perfect gem, in which all the accessories of the pictorial and Terpsichorean sciences are brought triumphantly to bear.

If you desiderate to be in good humour with everybody, and to view all things with an unjaundiced eye, we know not a surer plan to accomplish such a desirable purpose than to ensconce yourself in one of the boxes of the little theatre opposite the leviathan in the Haymarket. There, most assuredly, will your risible faculties be powerfully brought into play. For where is the man that could witness the drolleries of Buckstone in the new comedy, and listen to the humorous dialogue of Planchè's burlesque, without positively shrieking with delight? No wonder then that in this laughter-loving age the HAYMARKET THEATRE should be nightly crowded. No surprise is it to us that such vast numbers should flock to a house where the pieces produced are, in the proper signification of the term, entertainments. Mr. Bourcicault's new comedy, "The School for Scheming," is a production that wonderfully improves upon acquaintnce. Probably it is rather deficient and meagre in dramatic construction-a fault that causes it at times apparently to lack sufficient interest, and instead of running smoothly on, to drag, from the requirement of an infusion of action. The dialogue is sparkling in the extreme, and the satire interspersed is both pointed and pungent.