AN EVERY-DAY OCCURRENCE.

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offers of extra whips, a shoulder to each wheel, and the late coachman presented his successor with a stout ash-wattle by way of an apprentice. Coachee took it all in good part, got on his box, and waited the signal. Right," cries the guard; then at one word from the well-remembered voice, to the perfect astonishment of every one, off each horse bolted like a snipe just flushed. The secret afterwards came out. I do not mean to assert that this kind of thing was practised on the pony; but I do say, that a voice that had often been followed by a severe stroke of the whip would have been quite sufficient (as the event proved) for so high spirited an animal.

Let me remind my Readers, there is also a way of punishing a horse by his mouth, to get him alonga vile and uncoachmanlike practice, I allow, but sometimes resorted to. If a snatch at (or rather on) a horse's mouth by means of the reins is always followed by a few strokes of the whip, the horse very soon learns that the one is as much a signal to go on as the other; and both being a punishment, he accelerates his speed in both cases to avoid it. Thus we see that driving without a whip is no proof that a horse is not forced to cruel and unnatural exertion if a good one, and bad ones are never selected for such performances.

We are told that Burke on ordinary occasions treats his horses kindly. I am not prepared to gainsay this, not being conversant with his general habits; nor ever having had the opportunity of seeing his stable management, should I be justified in giving any opinion of how his horses are treated: in that respect probably very well, as it is his interest to have them at all times prepared in a certain degree for

58" TO MAKE A WASH WOULD HARDLY STEW A CHILD.”

any Match occasion may put in his way. I am not representing Mr. Burke as a demon who delights in cruelty for cruelty's sake; but where his interest is concerned, we have plenty of proof from various results that mercy would plead in vain. I am willing to allow it to be possible that in riding or driving a horse to death he may even experience some feelings of compunction; but it is a very poor excuse for the murderer that he is very sorry to cut our throats while he perseveres in doing so to gain our money; nor is it any excuse for this man that he feels sorry to torture a generous animal, while he does so merely from his accursed cupidity. That any man can be found to publicly or privately encourage him is a disgrace to human nature. When I say him, I mean his pursuits: I war not with the man, but with his disgusting and various cruelties. Above all other men, every true sportsman should set his face against them, and raise his voice to cry them down. We have quite enough to do to defend ourselves and our cause against the clamour that a set of twaddlers often raise against both. In the name of Sporting, then, let us not give them so fair a handle to lay hold of as detecting us in tolerating, much less in countenancing, useless and revolting barbarities.

I remember seeing when a boy, on Hindhead Hill on the road to Portsmouth, a stone placed by the road-side, and engraved on it were nearly these words: "In detestation of a barbarous murder committed on the body of an unknown sailor." I. should like to see a similar stone put up somewhere on the Derby road, by subscription, stating it to be "In execration of a cruel Match against time that took place on this road, 1844, when one of the best

FORBID IT HEAVEN, THE HERMIT CRIED." 59 little animals of his day was driven to death by his inhuman master." It would be a lasting testimony of the good feelings of the inhabitants of the different towns, and prevent at least their road from ever being disgraced in future by such exhibitions; for twist it as you will, palliate it as you will, a most disgraceful and brutish exhibition it was, so, as Falstaff says, "there's an end of it."

That the degree of distress horses undergo in Matches against time is not always commensurate with the greatness of the undertaking is quite clear. What would be merely a good long breathing gallop to one horse, would be great distress to another. Speed, stamina, and condition, or, vice versa, the want of them, must always cause this. That such horses as Vivian, Lottery, The Nun, and many others of this. class could, when in proper form, do a gallop Match of twenty miles within the hour with really very little distress, I am quite willing to admit; but such horses are not put to such things. First, they are too valuable to be risked at it for only perhaps a hundred; and secondly, no money could be got on in such a Match, for who would bet against them? If the owner of The Nun sold so game and good an animal, and she changed and changed hands till infirmity brought her value to fifty pounds, then she would be caught up in a moment by some of these Match-making gangs: then a bet would be made to do some feat that only extraordinary lasting qualities and game could accomplish; and then even on three legs no one knows what an animal like her, who will go under the whip, as she has often done, might not be made to accomplish: but would not any one worthy the name of man shudder at such an

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CHAQUE PAYS, CHAQUE MODE.

hibition, and at such monsters as the instigators and encouragers of it? Yet such scenes do constantly take place, and, what is more, the owner of the winner is often cheered and lauded as if he had really performed some meritorious and heroic action!

I have personally been accused by ladies of showing a disposition to cruelty, and even barbarity, because I have occasionally gone to see a prize-fight. This they naturally consider as a most horrid exhibition: long may my fair countrywomen continue to think so! It is the natural result of the tenderness of woman's nature. The dark-eyed daughters of Andalusia tell you, Quen no ha visto Sevilla no ha visto maravilla: so they say also of a bull fight. Now, though few men who have seen such eyes have escaped their influence, however fascinating their truly lovely owners may be, their bare endurance, without their praises of a bull fight, would be a damper to the feelings of an Englishman in selecting them as wives. I therefore glory in the indignant glances called forth from Englishwomen at the bare mention of a fight. That two gluttons after an hour's fighting are by no means pleasing objects to look upon is quite clear; but I fully maintain that cruelty has nothing on earth to do here, nor can I consider it follows that men who witness it have any cruelty in their disposition. If an unfortunate wretch was condemned to be beaten to death, or nearly so, as a punishment by an executioner, I grant the man must be worse than brutish who could derive any gratification in witnessing so revolting a spectacle but if two men prefer fighting as a mode of making money to any other, who has a right to interfere in their selection of occupation? Chacun à

son gout; they have theirs; they have a right to have it in fact, the cruelty would be in preventing their enjoying it. If two men, earning (which many of them can and some do) a comfortable living by other occupations, choose to quit them for two months while in training to fight, it is natural to conclude they prefer making money by this to their regular business. Why balk their inclinations? I do not see that they hurt any one but each other. I only wish, as Paddy would say, "they may both win," and as they so often "wisit the witling office in the ring," I hope when they do so at home they will find it well stored for themselves and their friends. I really hope my feelings are not more callous than those of my neighbours; but I confess in witnessing a prize fight, I admire the attitudes and tactics of the men, though, so far as they are concerned, I feel no more for them than I should for two crocodiles fighting on the banks of the Nile. If some unfortunate fellow, who had no other means of getting food for himself and family, was induced to enter the prize ring to obtain those means, he would be an object of admiration and interest. I should feel every blow he got, and warmly wish him success: but if such men as Hammer Lane or Johnny Broome (two very respectable men in their way) choose to quit, the one his trade, the other his home, to fight, I can only say, if they both got a sound drubbing, they would get no pity from me; and to do them both justice, they would neither care about the drubbing one farthing, provided they won the fight for themselves and friends; and this they certainly would do, if they could under any circumstances. In short, speaking of prize fights in a general way, if two fools by choice stand up to