their vigilance, or that of their touts, and they really do know nothing of any trial he may have had, he is of course quite an outsider to them. They will not, like the farmer, "fancy a horse." Probably such a horse is not "in the betting." If he is, he is only brought to book as a "possible;" but in no way influences the making that book up. No, no; it is the horse that ought to win, and could win if permitted to do so, or the one that could not win if the race were fairly run, that becomes their " great pot ;" and a few hundreds, or even thousands, are always ready for great occasions, and these great occasions are the great stakes. To speak personally, I now feel no more interest in seeing the Derby or Leger run for, so far as regards the comparative merits of the horses, than I should as to which sheep reached the field-gate first, if a flock chose to gallop across it. Curiosity as to how these races will be let come off, I certainly do feel; but it is curiosity only that would take me to see them run for. If I did speculate at all on the result of such races, my mental inquiry would be, not "I wonder how such a horse will run?" but "I wonder what such a party means?" Get at the truth of that, and I would then as strenuously recommend the losing man to continue on the turf to repair his losses, as I now, in all good meaning and good faith, recommend him to leave it before ruin forces him to do so.

The great handicaps, I have been told by some, are the very life and soul of racing. Upon my life and soul, I look on them in a very different light. That they are the life and soul of betting, I know; because they bring horses together, to be betted on or against, that otherwise would have no more business in the same race than I should have in the same cabinet council with the leading ministers. They bring a large field together, I allow; but I do not see that large fields are any gratification to the public, or conducive to real sport. If horses are so weighted as to give the veriest wretch that ever looked through a bridle an equal chance with the Hero, which would be the true spirit of a handicap, we then damp the spirit that induces men to bring out really good horses, and we are doing injury to what has been considered one of the good results of racing-namely, encouraging the breeding of fine horses. If, on the other hand, a handicap authorises the owner of a superior horse to say what one once said to me of some others, "I wish there was a hundred such devils in the race, for turn them loose they cannot win," then handicapping becomes a mere humbug, and the unfortunate owner of a bad horse only stands to be shot at and have his pockets picked for the amusement of some and the advantage of others; when, God knows, the man who is unfortunate enough to have a bad horse in training, what between his own sanguine expectations that he will run better another time, and, most probably, his trainer's assurances that he will, is pretty certain of having his pockets picked without getting a lift on the road by a handicap, when he has not the ghost of a chance of winning.

I remember to have said, on some former occasion, that a man know. ing little of racing may be fortunate enough to have a trainer who will enter his horse advantageously for him, and that so situated he would be wise in trusting to his trainer's judgment. And so he would. For even supposing the trainer to be a rogue, if a man knows nothing, or, what is often worse, only a little of racing, he may as well suffer by his

trainer's roguery as by his own ignorance. One thing is, however, certain : no trainer is an honest man who recommends his employer to keep a bad horse in training.

Against what I have said, it may be stated that there have been very indifferent two-year-olds that have become useful horses at four. I do not deny that such a case takes place with one horse in fifty; but suppose it does, and he becomes this useful horse: if we look at his expences of training &c., for two years we shall have paid more than a useful price for him, and have only, after all, got a class of horse that requires being in very particular hands to be turned to any useful account; for pay his way he certainly will not, in the hands of a public trainer; though he might pick up a something in proper ones, entered for proper races, and placed in proper company. But we are now looking at quite the bright side of the picture; for with the other forty-nine that could not run at two years old, every grain of corn they have eaten is an absolute loss; the only consolation and encouragement the owner can get from his trainer for these failings being that usually given by the owners of the snuff-boxes to be thrown at, namely, "Go it again, master; better luck next time."

So far as I am concerned, I can only say, if I tried a yearling, and found no promise about him, I would, in dealer's phrase, "ship him" at once; that is, get rid of him : it would be a saving in the long run, I am quite satisfied.

In some corroboration of my conviction that with unpromising racing colts the first sacrifice is the best, I wonder how many persons have done themselves any good by buying any of the Bentinck stud. I believe the number of those who have got a clipper from these cast offs would not make up a rubber at whist. What, then, must be the perfect infatuation of the man who perseveres with a bad or middling two or threeyears-old! What is to make him better, if increased age alone would do it? It must be remembered that other colts are growing older too; and the reasons given by the trainer why the colt will probably improve are mere subterfuges to keep him in his stable.

As it certainly is to the credit of a trainer to have horses of some character in his stable, and therefore to his interest also, it may be inferred that he would recommend a bad brute being sold, and a better horse put into his place. It is not unlikely that he may insinuate that such a change would be for the better. If, however, he finds that the wishes and ideas of his employer do not at once jump with his own, he knows too well to hazard such a proposition again; and then, as a brute in his stable is better than a vacant box or stall, his interest induces him to make excuses for the horse, fearing that otherwise the owner may either change his stable or give up racing altogether; for it would very frequently happen that if a trainer was honestly to tell an owner that his horse was good for nothing, the impression would be that the horse, being thought little of in that stable, was not done justice to, and he would be removed to another. A trainer would not want such a lesson twice, and thus in one particular he is made dishonest through the obstinacy and want of judgment of his employer.

I know a gentleman, a man of fortune at the same time, who has now, and for some time has had, some three or four wretches in training, with which, of course, he never does or will win. But though he sees this, I

suppose nothing would induce him to change his system, which is to purchase low-priced horses. Probably he calls them cheap ones. I should consider his stud extravagantly dear at ten pounds a head, or, taking them as race horses, at ten pounds a dozen. Yet with these he expects to win! Among them is a cast off or two, who could do nothing at two years old, and are about as promising now. A nice lot for a man to have to train. Next to being their owner, defend me from being their trainer. If, which is quite certain, they do not go in front, the trainer, be he good or bad, will probably be told the horses were never fit to go; and if he were to tell his opinion of the lot, he would as probably be set down for a rogue or a fool. Doubtless, when this gentleman has lost money enough, and gives up racing, he will be loud in his abuse of the turf, and swear that no honest man can make money, or have a chance of making it, on the turf. He would not be far wide of the mark in saying this, but he should add that bad horses have no chance; for in such a case as his he need no fear of his nags attracting attention enough to be "made safe:" they are safe enough to lose every time they start without it. This is another of the number who will decry the turf, with no better reason than that he foolishly hoped to make money by racing, of which he knows nothing; buys horses that are of no use (unless he wants a few such new saddles as no man would ride upon), runs them for stakes and among horses where their chance is that of an omnibus, and is then disappointed in finding them nowhere-when, in fact, they should be anywhere but where he places them.

It may be said that people have now become so accustomed to the excitement occasioned by heavy stakes, that, if they were done away with, the turf would want patrons from that cause as much as it does now from others. I should beg to remark, in reply, that I rather think that nineteen out of twenty of those who have bred, entered, and started good and bad horses for these great races, have had such lessons as to their chance of winning them, that if mercenary consideration has been their inducement, their eyes have been sufficiently opened as to their chance of making money by them, and that the seeing them done away with would occasion no regret. In fact, what would they have to regret ? Why, the doing away with a losing kind of lottery, that held out temptations to great expense, for the benefit of those who, in return, will pick their pockets.

But in some corroboration of my conception that these great races, so far from bringing patrons to the turf, absolutely drive them from it, did the turf want patrons before the Derby or Leger were set on foot? We have only to recall the host of noble or high names that then gladdened old Newmarket by their presence. About the mansions and houses of those who made the old town their temporary residence the grass and weed flourish; and the roof that then covered many a noble party at the festive board, is now actually falling in. Does this look like the present system being one conducive, or likely to be conducive, to the interest of the turf? Surely not.

It is true there were at that time men who looked to the making money by the turf-Sir Charles Bunbury, for instance; and doubtless all those keeping race horses would have been glad to make money, if they could; but they knew that, though individually money could be made, generally it could not. The motive in keeping a certain

number of horses in training then was fondness of the pursuit, an honourable emulation, the congregating together as noblemen and gentlemen should congregate, and, further, the éclât of having a stud as an appendage to high rank and fortune. How far that stud might contribute to its own expenses was a secondary consideration; the making money by it merely considered as a thing possible, but not contemplated. Knowing men among them doubtless there were, and men amongst the highest, with whom to make a match would, to the ordinary run of men, be all but certain loss; but such men would have been as thunderstruck at being suspected of the tricks now daily practised as they would have been at being accused of stealing a fork from the dinner table.

I grant that the number of persons keeping race horses at that time were few indeed, comparatively with the number keeping them now; but the number of high individuals keeping them were as twenty to one.

When the pleasure of fairly winning a race, and showing judgment in racing and race horses, is the incentive to running them, fair racing may be always anticipated. When racing is converted into a trade, the reverse is certain to take place. In former days very few men of small means, as gentlemen, attempted to keep race horses-it was a pursuit above their means; but when and while the opportunity for rascality affords a chance of making money, the needy man cuts in; he has nothing to lose, and may win, as we have within the last few years seen several quite inexperienced men do. But what is the consequence? On first commencing racing, they are known not to be worth the attention of the regular turfmen, who wisely leave them alone till they are. While this goes on, the new beginner perhaps makes money, possibly to the tune of some thousands; he then becomes game worth notice, and so sure as he does, so sure is he robbed of all his gains, anything he might have had besides, and has only the mortification of knowing he was worth thousands at the Craven, and is perhaps a beggar at the Houghton meeting.

Still a poor man has, perhaps, the best chance of success on the turf, if he thoroughly understands the whole business connected with it. First, he is more likely to devote his time and attention to it than the man of fortune; by doing this he does the thing at less expense, trusts to his own judgment, wins in his turn, and does not risk the awful pulls back that are so fatal to most men of more means, who run their horses; and, what is still more in his favour, if he only lives by racing, and is contented to merely live, the fraternity will probably be graciously pleased to allow him to do so. If he has steadiness of mind and purpose to be content with this, and principle enough to act so as to be respected, let him consider himself as one of Fortune's favourites; for how many do we see, who become the neglected of society (a sequitur usually attendant on the loss of fortune), but the despised of good society, from mixing with men whose bare nod of acknowledgment is enough to stamp the acknowledged as one to be avoided!

As insurrections are so much in vogue just now, let us hope to see a nice little insurrection among the racing men, but set on foot by the aristocracy, not the canaille of the turf. Let a jolly good civil war follow; and when the ranks are thinned, we may hope those who fought in the good cause will hail with shouts a victory of the enemies of fair sporting, and who by their rascality had nearly brought racing to be considered as one of our glories past.

ENGLISH SPORTS, AND ENGLISH SPORTING QUARTERS.

BY LINTON.

(Continued.)

Having walked with our intelligent companion some distance through the broad pathways which traversed the vast woodlands, we approached at length a wild and flowery heathered hill, the contrasting colours of the yellow-headed furze, blending with which, sparkled in the sun's rays, and added much to the beauty of a scene already teeming with interest and loveliness, on which few could look without reverence for the mighty Disposer of all things bright in nature and bountiful towards man. As we ascended, here a rabbit rapidly crossed our path, there a covey rose from their heathered shelter, a brilliant plumed pheasant now whirled from the coverts at hand, and a timid hare started frightened from her form-sufficient proof, if proof were wanting, to substantiate the forester's assertion, that there, on those luxuriant hills, there amid the richness of those happy valleys, every species of game loved in abundance to dwell. At length we halted on one of the highest points of the forest, and turned to gaze with unfeigned admiration on one of nature's most splendid panoramas, extending far in the distance, as on all sides around us.

Well indeed may the heart of an Englishman expand with pride who looks on such scenes, and marking the well-cultivated broad lands and waving woodlands, knows them to be the land of his birthright-the land we live in-the merry England; for a scene so fair, so proud, so beautiful, so bountiful, may be equalled, but can rarely be surpassed beyond the white cliffs of "perfide Albion." In the far distance distinctly appeared the wide waters of the Bristol Channel, on which many a well filled sail was seen wafting the homewardbound and treasure-laden vessel from the land of the stranger; while the small islets, termed the Steep and Flat Holms, varied the landscape, of which the blue mountains of Wales formed a pleasing back-ground. While the nearer lands, between the distance and the eye, were scattered o'er with many an oaken wood, a gem of nature peculiarly English; and these ranged, not in patches here and there dispersed, but in large extended surfaces of tufted foliage; for from the height on which we stood we beheld little more than the varied tops of these woods beneath us, which caused them to appear in the distance as forming one vast valley of forests. On our right the same beauteous picture of nature presented itself, though the hills, superior from height, yet far more barren in appearance, were scarcely less interesting; and the richly cultivated vale, which stretched far and wide before the eye, even to the plains of Sedgemoor, told many a tale of luxuriant corn lands. There was the theatre on which the merry pack we had already visited were now wont to make the welkin ring with their melodious voices; but in days lang syne it had