I know not if I have quoted the lines correctly; I give them from memory, having once heard them sung by the talented author, who not only possesses every requisite for a great lawyer, but who, in private society, is one of the most agreeable companions I ever had the good fortune to meet with—

"Of most infinite jest, of most excellent fancy."

May he long live to "set the table in a roar," with his songs and "flashes of merriment."

But to resume. Then we had stage coaches of every description, with every sort of horse, from the ten-mile-an-hour trotter down to the limping pacer, who was evidently making" his last appearance upon any stage," previous to a visit to the knacker's yard. Equestrians and pedestrians swarmed along the road. There was to be seen the threehundred-guinea park hack, his owner

"With spur insidiously by his side,

Provokes the canter which he seems to chide."

Then the strong cob, the rider evidently a member of Boodle's, the country gentleman's club, taking it quite easy; there dashes along a young East-Ender on a hired horse, with a blue saddle-cloth, a snaffle bridle, and a nose-band. Now comes a young Life-guardsmen, pounding along the road upon his high-mettled and handsome charger; while a cornet of a light cavalry regiment canters along, fancying he is "witching the world with noble horsemanship." A stripling from Eton, with one of Tilbury's best hacks, is unable to "turn;" although, as Shakespeare writes, he has "winded" his "fiery Pegasus. A party now canters along, consisting of three sporting-looking men, and two dashing Amazons; then a "gent" with a smart four-and-sixpenny "gossamer," and a green cut-away coat from the emporium of that poetical schneider, Moses, mounted upon (as far as his knees went) a well broke charger. Next comes a regular swell, with mustachios, and an Albert paletot, a "reachme-down" article from a fashionable shop in Lombard-street; his red and black satin neckclock ornamented with a huge diamond pin, with a pair of trowsers black and white checked, looking for all the world like a draught-board. His costume is between that of a Leicester-square lounger, and a levanting black-leg at Boulogne: he is a keeper of a roulette table. His nag is rather a spicy looking one, the present owner having taken it as a part of a bad debt. A party of grazier-looking men from the purlieus of Smithfield now appear, the leading one mounted on an animal fully realizing the description given by your bard of Avon— "His horse hipped with an old mothy saddle, the stirrups of no kindred, besides possessed with the glanders, troubled with the lampass, full of windgalls, sped with spavins, swayed in the back, and shoulder shotten." The pedestrians consisted of gipsies, tramps, pea and thimble-riggers; for, in the days I write of, the stringent laws of Sir James Graham had not come into operation; shop-boys, cads, touters, beggars, balladsingers, Jow-boys, citizens, ostlers, cockneys, prize-fighters, black-legs, and a class of seedy-looking sporting "gents.," always to be seen hanging about Tattersall's or Aldridge's yards."

(To be continued).

LITERATURE.

THE SCIENCE OF GUNNERY; by William Greener, Author of "The Gun:”E. Churton, 26, Holles-street. Few men who furnish us with hints, winks, and wrinkles on shooting, can abstain from coquetting more or less with the anatomy of fire-arms. Nine times in ten, though, this branch of the subject will read little better than a make-up. Treat it as dashingly as you may, it can hardly be amusing; while a want of proper or thorough knowledge renders it scarcely more instructive. Keep your gun, when out, in a position so that it shall neither "bag" you nor your friend; clean it carefully yourself when you are at home, and buy it of that best of fellows and workmen—the Bishop of Bondstreet, Laing, of the Haymarket, or somebody else, as the case may be. That is about the sum-up of the thing; relieved, perhaps, with a facetious story touching the loss of an eye, or a momentous warning in the snap-shot, that ended in a verdict of manslaughter.

There is no authority, either, in opinions of this class. A country gentleman may be a dead shot with a favourite gun that from his own prowess he recommends to everybody else. Still guns are like razors you may chance on a good one or you may not at any rate, if we must follow a rule, let it be laid down by some one who has studied the whole arcana of the thing. So precisely was it with Mr. Greener and his "Gun," and so as palpably is it with the more general work he has made its successor. Every agent in the art of destruction, used whether for pleasure or business, everything from wadding and gun-caps to artillery and yet more formidable machinery, are treated at a length and with a science that at once bespeak the ardour which alone could have led to so successful an issue. Indeed, we candidly confess that without a man has a heart wholly devoted to the cause, we should rather question his taking very warmly to the work. On the other hand, to anyone who has a turn for scientific research, The Science of Gunnery, as applied to Military and Sporting Arms" must be a perfect prize. We fancy we see Captain Warner, the long range man, hurrying into its pages; or some other Captain Mc, with an eye warranted safe at twelve paces, making notes of how to pick his powder, and keep it ready at a moment's warning. For those on whose behalf we are more especially called to notice this work, we can do no better than copy a line or so from the preface, as giving a promise that has been ably performed:

"The sportsman's science of gunnery commands on the following pages the greatest attention, and while unnecessary detail has been strictly avoided, whatever is for the sportsman's interest has been fully developed."

Recommendation in fact to a second edition from a writer that has long since in his own peculiar line shown himself unapproachable, sounds

altogether of the superfluous; and we conclude this notice with a few words on "the getting-up." The steel-plate prints, wild-cattle shooting, whale-shooting, and so forth, are really good; while the wood-cuts, in explanation of the different gun-barrels and locks, are of as great a service as their more costly rivals are of ornament to the volume. The publisher, in fact, has done his author that justice the latter has his subject-a combination that should ensure the success their joint undertaking so greatly merits.

THE FINE ARTS.

THE LOST BEAUTY: Baily, Brothers, Cornhill.-A pleasing picture, in the full sense of the term. The idea was a good one to begin with, and the execution is quite equal to the conception. We seldom saw a print, even after the great Landseer himself, that told its own story more truly or quickly. It is a relic of the barbarous ages, when dogdealers and stealers flourished and "sold again" in the broad light of day. Just now follow your fancy from this hint, and make up the ingredients to your own taste. The spoilt pet of Eaton Square or Piccadilly, the silky-coated, saucy-snouted, little rascal that begged for biscuit he didn't care to eat, and slept on purple and fine linen. Look at one who hesitated over his sweetbread, and quarrelled with the fair hand that caressed him, suddenly spirited away to the cellars of St. Giles. Mark the woe-begone despairing expression of that sweet countenance, the "nasty, horrid, heavy chain" that binds him down, the disgusting-looking mutton-bone he has actually polished so cleanly, the short pipe, the old hamper, and all the et cætera that so cruelly but so clearly show his fallen state. Poor Fido! what a scene we shall have of it in the Boudoir when the ransom is paid, and the lost beauty brought back in a handsome cab. As our friend may, could, or should fancy, our artist has painted, and we are happy to say it is an effort that gives Mr. Bateman "another step" he has worked the force of the contrast with all the effect it was capable of, but without any straining or exaggeration in the employment of his materiel. Davey, again, has done him good service in the engraving; his comparatively young hand manages these large subjects with a power and care that augur well for his future fame. "The Lost Beauty" ought to be what he looks— a great favourite.

THE SUDOREFFUGIENT.
Griffiths, 322, Holborn.

Of all the tantalizing trials to a stable mind there are few more common or difficult to master than that technically termed "breaking out." A nervous, fidgetty-tempered, queer-constitutioned horse is bad enough in the field, but, by Jupiter! he'll wear out the patience of Job

himself when once you get him in the house again. Now then, my lads, set to work at him: the squire brought him home in very fair order, and he ought to be comfortable in half an hour.

He ought!-as if that was any argument. He ought, indeed! and the moment Will and Harry begin at him he begins at them: Hiss—s—s—s—rub-rub-rub; but you might as well try to dry the Thames, or make the Chartists quiet and comfortable. "It is no

mortal use upon earth," as the helpers say as they drop their hands like tired-out pugilists. "It's no account whatever; and if the master will blow up, why blow up he must, for it would puzzle the devil himself to set right such a beggar as this." And the master does blow up a bit perhaps when he walks in about half-past nine, and then having cased his mind a trifle by so doing, orders a rug or two to be thrown over " Neversay-dry," and half an hour to be allowed between the heats.

cry.

Time's up"-the hard hitters turn up their sleeves again, throw off the covering, and displays a state of things enough to make a horse From shoulder to quarter, neck, ribs, and loins, he is all of "a clam," worse and worse though you could n't have thought it. HissS- -S- -s opens the scene once more; while the worthy owner, unable to sit it out, retires to bed in despair, to dream he's sleeping in damp sheets, or the consumptive sufferer from a continual perspiration.

And these poor people, these daily victims to what they consider an invincible evil, never yet heard of "The Sudoreffugient." It is a wonderful word we admit, and a hardish one maybe to remember or ask for; but take our word for it, there is quite as wondrous an amount of ease and comfort contained in it. The next time old "Never-dry" walks in, instead of hammering away at once, and reviving all that ringing cry of hound and horn which half-a-hint will bring back to him-instead of loading and stifling with blankets and hoods, and so very carefully increasing what you'd give your week's wages to avoid-instead of any of the do-as-we-have-done of this sort, just call for the Sudoreffugient―a brace of Latin words as usual, knocked into one of English -sudor, sweat, and fugo, to fly; and fly it does too, like the work of magic-the Hey presto! being the price of the cloth, and the conjuror's name, Mr. Charles Griffith.

Of all the late inventions connected with the stable and the saddleroom-patent saddles, patent bridles, patent head collars, patent girths, and so forth-we know of none so greatly needed, or likely to be so really serviceable, as this novelty from the celebrated Holborn House. Allowing, as it does, the gradual escape of the moist heat, while it still affords a proper protection from cold or draught, it promises to become the groom's best friend, and a real blessing to his horse and his master. A great deal of unnecessary toil and trouble must be saved, and, as is rarely the case in any economy of the kind, the horse will still be the better for it. Even with the most tiresome and touchy of steeds, hear not of the clipper or auctioneer till you have given him a taste or so of the Sudoreffugient.

PUBLIC AMUSEMENTS OF THE METROPOLIS.

Ill fares the "stage," to hastening ills a prey,
Where talent and the prices both decay.

Dramatic affairs, like our foreign affairs, present just now a very unsettled and formidable appearance. "Friendly relations" at this critical moment appear to have fully determined in their several minds to, one and all, agree to differ;" the consequence is, that diplomatic bodies, theatric and otherwise, are in a state of unenvied and decidedly unpleasant excitement. To alleviate the awfulness of this contagious commotion, rulers of kingdoms bluster about guncotton and balls; whilst managers of theatres, in the frenzy of their despair, seek the necessary shot to carry on the warfare, from their respective uncles.

The stage in our present age is in a most melancholy condition; there is no gainsaying; the lamentable fact is as plain-yes, as plain as the variegated frontispiece appertaining to any one of Albion's ugliest and richest heiresses that the always "gentle reader" may deem fit and proper to particularize. This almost total eclipse in the theatrical hemisphere has been occasioned by more than an isolated cause. Gross mismanagement on the part of lessees of several temples of amusement is not amongst the least. And one of those "first in the throng" most assuredly is the present director of Drury Lane, who, for a series of years past, has adopted a course as certain in its result to bring ruin to the establishment over which he has presided, as it is safe to reflect the deepest disgrace on him in the capacity of manager. In a short time Mr. Alfred Bunn will have a very formidable rival to compete with, Covent Garden being taken for the performances of Italian Operas. Thus we shall have our patent houses converted into nurseries for foreign exotics. Oh! shades of Garrick, of Siddons, of Kemble, and of Kean! how are those boards which such geniuses were wont to grace desecrated in these degenerate days! The gratification of the eye is now considered in lieu of the improvement of the mind. Ballet is made to supersede the tragic muse:

"And thou sweet, Poetry! thou loveliest maid,
Still first to fly where sensual joys invade."

It is true that in this vast metropolis we have one house remaining, where the modicum of talent still left is to be viewed in all its brilliant capacities, and that house is the little theatre in the Haymarket.

Much do we regret that the minors appear to be in a similar category with the majors. Many of the managers of the small houses, from a lack of public support, have brought down the theatrical standard -the admission fee to several being now on a par with the scale