establishment was commenced; and notwithstanding the immense increase in the breeding of horses within that period, as well as the almost total annihilation of posting by the formation of railroads, Mr. Tattersall assured me the other day, that horses possessing the same qualities as those of 1799 will now sell for double the price.

Reader! Would you see Tattersall's, the great Turf Exchange, in all its glory, visit it on the settling day for the Derby, when you will behold the speculative genius of man in full play-a sight once seen, never to be forgotten.

THE STEEPLE CHASE.

PLATE V.-"NOBODY NAMES THE WINNER!"

ENGRAVED BY E. HACKER, FROM A PAINTING BY J. F. HERRING, SEN.

At it they come! all much of a muchness still, and going "in and out clever," like old hunters or young water-rats!

A horse should never see a brook till he is over it; or suppose we say, to suit our present subject, till he is in it. For the steeple-chase this rule applies well enough, however often it may be broken through at other times. A man who comes up to the water in a velvet jacket, just to see how himself or his horse likes it, and then goes back again for an impetus to help him in getting a taste of it, can scarcely be said to be in his element, whether he does manage for an immersion or not. Yea or nay, too, his fate has little effect, by way of example, on his followers: if anything, it is rather an exhilarating sight to see one opponent so fairly disposed of; and so at it they come, with more heart than warning from the incident.

A brook is a thing that cannot be trifled with, if you are running at all for fences; and unlike the majority of fences, the first that has the offer of it almost invariably has it at the most advantage. A very formidable affair, with the top rail on, assumes a very different ap pearance with that top rail off; and it is just about "even odds" that the rusher in front takes it away with him. How accommodating, again, becomes the "stake-and-bound," with the binder broken! and was there ever an unshorn bull-fincher yet that didn't show where the leading man went through it? The rear rank ought to get a pull out of all these; but it is very different for them at the brook. The first come and best served just shaves it with a loss of about a foot of the bank he landed on; number two makes it a little more exciting, and of course a little less inviting for number three, who, with a wider jump and a worse hold, comes well into it; and then "the interest of the scene" commences, for it is astonishing, with one horse in the water, how ready others are to come on him.

"The brook" has always been the great attraction of the line for a steeple chase, the rallying point for the fun of the populace, and the

most important consideration for the attention of the performers. At first, when the grand desideratum seemed to be to furnish a return, like that of a decisive battle, with an appalling list of killed and wounded to give importance to the engagement, the brook was made the chief means for such an end. If it was a good fair trial for a horse as it offered, they used to extend it by digging it out with a sharp, sliding bank on either side. A most ingenious contrivance for a broken back it was, too, with nothing to soften a fall, as there would have been in its natural state, but a fearful brick-and-mortar sort of embankment, that looked like being made to order for mischief. Again, if that was not available, or considered enough if acted on, the next thing was to run up a good stiff post-and-rail, or a pro tempore wall on one side, and catch the unhappy exhibitors in that way. Not unfrequently, though, the country was found to contain something bad enough ready-made, as they were lucky to have it at Newport two or three years since, when the floods were out, and no one could hope to say where the course of the stream ran. That was fine, to be sure, as horse after horse blundered in and came out again, some time or other, and one side or other, with a good deal the look, if not the relish, of a duck in a thunder-storm! The committee-men and managers, in short, used to fancy that they could not have their fences big enough, and so spoilt the character of their sport by trying to make it too extraordinary.

To give the mob their due, they were always ready and willing to do their part in carrying out the intentions of the gentlemen in office. A few hours before starting, a few hundred of them would proceed to "the place" in the brook the Field was expected to take it at, and, having nothing else to do, proceed on to mischief naturally. On one occasion the Northampton snobs, in thousands perhaps, rather than hundreds, agreed for a fight-one side of the water against the other tearing up the banks for missiles in the dire energy of their civil war, and making the ground in a most terrible state long before the chase came off. If they do not always get as far as this, their flattering presence and attention are generally demonstrated in something the same inconvenient fashion. Possibly they may take a turn at brook-jumping themselves; and their getting in and out, with the effect it has on the landing and take-off, is "too evident to require further comment here." Or young Farmer Brown, riding up on his "nag horse," in all the dandyism of a bacon-face and a satin tye, and a tight black dress-coat and white cord breeches, is earnestly intreated to let his "little horse" have a shy at it. And the farmer, after having been considerably besought, bullied, and ridiculed, has the shy accordingly, and goes bang into it as certainly to the extreme gratification of his admiring friends, who lug him out amidst roars of laughter, and the most urgent inquiries as to "how he could be such a fool?" The "little nag," in the meanwhile, most likely having had his bridle pulled off his head, is going with the stream, despite the hundred different plans advised for getting him out of it. Just suppose, now, that at such a time Captain M'Intosh, making strong running on "The Scottish Chief," should set his horse's head for the brook. Do you think the Roughs could be got out of the way for him? Not they, indeed! We once saw them with just such an

other "object of interest" as the fallen farmer, block up every approach; and it was not until one man had put his horse at it standing, and been hurrahed into it, that the mob got their attention back to the legitimate game, and allowed the others a passage.

Our brook-scene is in all character one of the most exciting of the series. If not attended with many of the disadvantages we have alluded to, and that, we are happy to add, are going more or less out of fashion, it has still incident enough for all proper interest. Without the rail-and this is one evidently not purposely put up— the water would have been nothing; with it, coming near home, and horses pretty well pumped out, it is awkward enough. Our friend the Captain has met with a mishap at last-when so provokingly well-placed, too-and, despite the pink ribbons, Lady Jane has lost all her colour now her hero has lost his lead. The other of the "oi swelloi," as poor Lord Kintore used to call them, is in for it also, as deep as he well can be; and the bay horse looks as much like jumping short as anything we have seen for many a long day. As for the groom, having allowed himself to be sent through the rails instead of carried over them, he is now doing all in his power to complete the catastrophe, by pulling his horse upon him. The race he is out of, beyond a doubt; for once across the water, and they are within three fields of home, and with three left in yet to make a race of it.

Supposing, then, the bay don't jump it quite clean, we might talk about naming the winner even now, and reckoning on the Captain repeating the Jem Robinson trick of winning his race and his wife all in the week.

Her ladyship heard the remark, you see; for her colour has come back with a blush as red as a rose, and a look as sweet as hope, and as full of it.

The Captain for ever! and "bar none."

SKETCHES FROM THE "HEYTHROP COUNTRY."

BY LATITAT.

A celebrated writer avowed his passion for a particular name; and doubtless all men have a like predilection for some well or ill defined object, vision, or thing, whether fanciful, utopian, or otherwise; and, as is too frequently the case, without the entire, or even partial concurrence of the majority of their fellow citizens. But in these degenerate times of reckless innovation and folly, a novelty creates very little wonder

"When every day and hour brings forth a new one."

And it would be a desirable consummation, if most of the modern fashions and foibles, so repugnant to good sense, and the simple wants, manners, and customs of our ancestors, and which, like the bubbles