in the hunter, of course he could not bring out a horse fit to run for a saddle. Until within these fifty years, hunting-men knew nothing of what perfect condition. in hunters meant; they, therefore, had no idea at all of the (then) mysteries of training the race-horse; he was, consequently, necessarily consigned to the total and absolute control of the trainer: he produced the horse on a given day fit to go, or at all events appearing so. Doubtless, he very frequently was not so; but who was to tell the trainer this? Not the owner, for probably he was no judge of whether the horse was fit or not he only wondered by what "spells" or "sweet charms" the animal had been brought to the blooming state he appeared.

The trainer and his employer were about in the situation of the conjuror and his audience- the conjuror shows the hat with half a dozen rabbits in it, keeps the trick to himself, leaving the audience to wonder how the devil they got there.

But this charlatanism (and perfect charlatanism training formerly was) on the part of trainers is now nearly done away with; most men know the outline of all that is, can, or ought to be done with a horse in training; consequently, all the credit a trainer can now get for bringing his horse well to the post, is for the attention, and above all, the good judgment he has exercised in doing it. And well does he deserve, in such a case, all the commendation that can be bestowed on him; for though it is quite right to disabuse persons of the impression that there is any mystery in training, still it would be both wrong and absurd to attempt to lessen the merit of the man who brings his horse out as well as he can be. This is the great nicety, a horse may be well trained; and almost any

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ALL TOO BRIGHT TO LAST."

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trainer-indeed, many an intelligent stud groom could make him so; but perfect training is the bringing him out in that state that by no possibility of treatment it could be made better.

To any one totally unacquainted with training, it would sound a little bordering on the mysterious to say, that, if a horse is brought out in a proper state to run on a particular day, should the race be put off for two days, it would materially affect the horse's condition, or rather fitness to go on that day; for his general condition would not be changed by the change of the day, but his perfect fitness to go undoubtedly would. There is no mystery in this. One simple reason will suffice to explain why the horse would suffer from the change. He had, we will say, done his proper work, and taken his finishing sweat, so as to prepare him to run on the Wednesday: the race is put off to the Friday: it would not do to give him another sweat between the days; consequently, if he is a horse disposed to throw up flesh quickly, he would be by no means in his best state to run on the Friday. In fact, a horse cannot be kept up to his highest state of condition for any length of time: it is (if I may be allowed the expression) a tension on the animal system no horse could bear; like the strings of a harp, the system will not bear to be kept to the highest pitch without risk of injury.

It may be asked how, if a race-horse cannot be kept at this high state of condition to run, do we manage with country horses and leather platers who are continually going? I should say in reply, that though such horses are quite fit to go in the races for which they run, and among the class of horses with which they go, they certainly are not at that pin

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nacle of condition that horses are brought up to, who are destined for the Derby, Leger, or other first class stakes. Horses starting for such are trained for that particular stake: they win or lose it; in either case, some little relaxation is afterwards given, be it for ever so short a space of time, and then the instrument is again screwed up.

In former days, when doctors were called leeches (an appropriate name enough in one sense now), the nostrums they used were as numberless as extraordinary; they were not, however, more extraordinary than some of the recipes in use then among trainers. The contents of these were, of course, unknown; and this served in a great measure to keep up the profound mystery of training. Whether these were more efficacious than sweet hay and oats, with the occasional adjuncts of bran, beans, and carrots, what was then done and what is now done will sufficiently show.

Instructions have been published on most sciences and professions, many by the ablest heads, and some in so clear and definite a form as to enable those who study them to become tolerable proficients in whatever matter those instructions treat on. Instructions -and most able ones have been published on training; but it is a business in which, however well versed a man may be, it is impossible, from its nature, he can convey to another the knowledge the writer possesses, although in point of system it is perfectly simple: this arises from the different natures, tempers, constitutions, perfections, and imperfections of the different horses to be trained. No trainer could (if disposed to do so) give any general rule for treating a race-horse. If he were asked to

WHOLESOME ADVICE.

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give any opinion on the subject, his answer, if honestly given, must be what would appear evasive, ambiguous, and jesuitical; for if he were to attempt to give a plain, short, and unequivocal answer, all he could say would be (as a general rule) "Give him plenty of the best to eat, plenty to do, and physic when he wants it." This would be really a very good rule to give a master to treat his servants by, and is one by which if all servants were treated, it would be beneficial both to them and their masters; but I conceive it does not quite amount to all the information necessary to qualify a man to train racehorses.

A London man of fashion-as indolent as some men of fashion are, and a bit of a gourmand into the bargain-had got into bad health, and somewhat hypochondriacal as a natural consequence. A tenant of his, a large farmer and fox-hunter to boot, called on this victim of ennui. The healthful look and buoyant spirits of the countryman formed a striking contrast to the ennuyé and blasé tout ensemble of the votary of fashion.

"By heavens," said the latter, "I would give five thousand to have your health and spirits."

"Would ye?" replied the farmer; "I'll tell you how to do't cheaper nor that-earn three shillings a day, and live on't."

We will suppose any one unversed in training affairs (for none other would put so vague a question to a trainer) to ask what time he should consider necessary to bring a horse out fit to run. We will further suppose the trainer quite disposed to give a definite reply, if possible. Still the thing is impossible. But to give the best answer he could, or,

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LEADING QUESTIONS.

in fact, any thing like a satisfactory one, he must at least ask the following questions:

"How has he been treated during the last six months ?"

"How is he in point of condition now?"

"Is he quite thorough-bred, or is he bonâ fide a cocktail?"

"Is he a delicate one, or a hardy one, that throws up flesh quickly ?"

"How are his legs and feet?"

"What length will he have to go in his first race?" "Is he to run heats or only a race?"

"What sort of a temper has he?"

Supposing these questions to have been answered, and supposing those answers could be depended on (a thing very much to be doubted from such a man as would have put them), and the trainer finds the horse to be of a given age, with ordinary, that is medium, qualities as to temper and constitution, and that he is to go in a race of such length as horses of his age usually go, he certainly could give something like a definite reply as to the time he might reasonably suppose it would take to bring him fit to

run.

All this would, however, be probably set at naught by unforeseen circumstances; and on the promised day, the horse, with every care having been used on the part of the trainer, may comparatively be scarcely fit to run for a "man's hat," while those he meets may be fit to run for his life. Weather Weather may have stopped his exercise, or what would be worse, his work; true, those who may have to go with him will have been stopped also, but the stopping either exercise or work