As to the question, Who was the first horseman? it would be in vain to inquire, for even the writers of ancient fables do not agree upon the point. By some it is pretended that Bellerophon first mounted a horse; that Pelethronius first bridled him; that he was harnessed by Erichthonius, and fought upon by the Centaurs of Thessaly. But quitting fiction, we learn from the Sacred Writings, that to Egypt we are indebted for the equestrian art, from which country, by the aid of the colonists who emigrated from it and from Phoenicia, it was introduced into Greece (perhaps by Erichthonius, fourth king of Attica), where it attained to great perfection. Although there was no cavalry employed in the Trojan war, equestrianism must have been much practised and well understood in Homer's time, which is at once proved by a reference to his works. In the fifth book of the Odyssey, the shipwrecked Ulysses, tossed by the waves on a plank, is compared to a skilful horseman on an unruly steed; and in the fifteenth Iliad, we find one man managing four horses at once, leaping from the back of one to another, at their full speed. Herodotus (in Thalia) speaks of hunting on horseback in the time of Darius, even descending to the particulars of an accident in the field to the noble satrap of Persia; and likewise the same writer (in Melpomene) mentions the Amazonian women hunting with their husbands on horseback. Xenophon also says that Cyrus did so, when he exercised himself and his horses. Again, with reference to those early times, we should not pass over the introduction of horses and horsemanship into the public games of Greece, and particularly the Olympic Games, which, according to an expression of Pindar, as far transcended all the others as gold is superior to the baser metals.

From the same authority we learn, that the Ethiopians and inhabitants of India, as cavalry, formed part of the expedition of Xerxes against the Greeks. But it appears that the Arabs and the Parthians, who afterwards became so famous for their equestrian accomplishments, were ignorant of the art at the period in question; at least both these nations fought under Xerxes, the former on camels, and the latter on foot. The Persians were more celebrated for their horses than for their riding. According to Athenaeus, they were more solicitous of their case and safety, than anxious for reputation of boldness and dexterity in horsemanship. The Scythians and the Sarmatians were both famous about this period, as well for their breed of horses as for their skill in riding them. In fact, so renowned were the former people, that, according to Gibbon, they were supposed by strangers to perform the ordinary duties of civil life on horseback; "to eat, to drink, and even sleep, without dismounting from their steeds."

The people of Mauritania, Numidia, Massilia, Nasamonia, and other adjacent parts, are also spoken of as having possessed breeds of excellent horses, but were still more distinguished for their singular mode of managing them (on the authority of Livy, and Caesar) without the aid of a bridle, and even in battle by means of a small switch or wand, turning them to the left by striking on the right side of the head, and vice versa; and stopping them by striking the front of the face. These practices are also confirmed by Ausonius, who celebrates the Emperor Gratian as having excelled in them. All we have to remark here is, that we are glad such practices are abolished, not only on our own account, but for the sake of horses, who must have been greatly tortured before they were brought to such a state of obedience as to be ridden infroni (without bridles), as Virgil says of the Numidians, and this in the confusion and excitement of a battle. There is an elegant passage on this subject in Lucan's Pharsalia, descriptive of the several tributary nations which Juba took into the field in the cause of Pompey, against Curio's army, which he entirely defeated.

"Autolokes, Numidiaeque vagi, semperque paratus Inculto Gaetulus equo," &c.

Thus translated by Rowe:

"With him unnumber'd nations march along, Th' Autolokes, with wild Numidian throng; The rough Gaetulian, with his rider stead; The Moor, resembling India's swarthy breed; Poor Nasamones, and Garamantines join'd; With swift Marmaridaeans, that match the wind; The Marax, bred the trembling dart to throw, Sure as the shaft that leaves the Parthian bow; With these Massilia's nimble horsemen ride; They nor the bit, nor curbing rein provide, But with light rods the well-taught couriers guide. From lonely coasts the Lybian hunters came, Who, still unarm'd, invade the salvage game, And with spread mantles tawny lions tame."

The Greeks transmitted the art of horsemanship to the Romans, who soon equalled, if they did not excel, their instructors; and nearly one of the first public acts of their first king was to establish the equestrian order, the second order in Rome; the equites, or horsemen, being placed far above the commonalty, and next to those of the highest quality and fortune in the state. In short, were proof wanting that horsemanship, as an accomplishment, was held in the greatest esteem in the early ages of the world, it would be found in the fact of the accomplished Cicero (De Off. i. 2, c. 13) telling his son Marcus, with the vanity that now and then breaks forth in the splendid effusions of that great man's pen, that the eyes of the world were upon him, on account of his father's fame; and that he had received the praise of the whole army for his excellence in riding. But the exercise and art of horsemanship occupied much of the study and attention of the Roman youth; and we find Horace inviting them to the practice of it, in the eighth ode of the first book.

Descending from the heroic ages, in which the earliest history we possess informs us the art of horsemanship was in full force and vigour, to comparatively modern times, the first notice we find in our own history of the art of riding horses, is in the tilts and tournaments; the earliest mention of which we find in the French historian Nithard, who reports, that, at an interview which took place at Strasbourg between Charles the Bald and his brother Lewis of Germany, the followers of both these princes fought on horseback; and, by way of marking the period, it may be observed, that Charles the Bald succeeded to the throne of France A.D. 840. Ducange affirms, that these combats were for some time peculiar to France, and expressly called French combats, conflictus Gallici. Scarcely anything distinct, however, is known about them till we find them practised in England, about the year 1140, in the reign of Stephen, after which time they became general all over Europe, particularly in England, where they were displayed on all great occasions. The spots most famous for them in London, were the Tilt-Yard, near St James's Park, and Smithfield; which the neighbourhood of the latter place confirms, by the names of the streets, such as "Giltspur," "Knight-rider," and so on. They are also known to have been practised on the spots now called Cheapside, Barbican, and Bridewell; and to have been exhibited in considerable splendour in various parts of the country be- Horsemanship, which a reference to the highly popular novel Ivanhoe will show. These were the days when "to witch the world with noble horsemanship" was one of the chief accomplishments of a gentleman; in which the management of the horse and the lance was amongst the principal requisites of knighthood; when the contest, both in real and in mimic war, was decided by the superiority of such means; the days of chivalry, in fact, which, as a well-known historian says of it, in his portrait of the character of a perfect knight, the accomplished Tancred, "inspired the generous sentiments and social offices of man, far better than the base philosophy, or the baser religion of the times."

The manège, and more especially the high manège-riding, is now nearly out of use. As Colonel Peters observes (Treatise on Equitation, p. 236, London, 1835), "In the riding-houses, for mere pleasure, or military purposes, very little of the manège riding is requisite. The instructions for a manège rider and his horse go far beyond those required for a military horseman and his horse. The confined airs, cadences, or paces of the manège, are not calculated for the duty of a pleasure or a military horse; the sensitive, delicate hand, and its aids, of the manège-rider would not do for a soldier. It should, therefore, be well understood, that although a soldier's horse should be quick and ready, it is not required to have him so much on his hunches, nor so fine in the mouth, as the manège-horse must be. If a military horse be put in his proper equilibrium, it is all that is requisite; he should not lose that boldness and freedom of action, which is generally so much admired, and so necessary, in the different duties that a military rider is called upon to perform." We are glad to be enabled to state, on such high authority as that of Colonel Peters, that the exercise of the manège is by no means necessary to the education of the horse, for any purposes which require his being trained in the school, as it is impossible to read the instructions of the masters of that art, as practised so generally at one time, without being satisfied, that the greatest severity must have been resorted to in their lessons. It is a maxim in horsemanship, and a good one, "that a horse must never do anything of his own head, but in obedience to his rider;" but to call upon him to force himself into the unnatural positions which the Manège d'Ecole requires, is, in our opinion, labour very ill bestowed; and as for the gracefulness of his action, so much insisted upon by the manège-riders, we think it is never more fully displayed by him than when nearly in his natural state. There is, however, we admit, something pleasing in the associations of the horse highly caparisoned, as well as the airs of the manège, with grand and imposing spectacles; and there are several passages in the third Georgic of Virgil, which shew that the manège was found out earlier than many persons may imagine.

Not only is good horsemanship well suited to the pith and nerve of the English character, but it has always been considered as one of the corporeal accomplishments of a gentleman. Thus Clarendon, in his character of the Duke of Newcastle of his day, says of him, that "he was a very fine gentleman, active, and full of courage, and most accomplished in those qualities of horsemanship, dancing, and fencing, which accompany a good breeding; in which his delight was." But there are other than mere personal advantages attending good horsemanship. It is the habitual contempt of danger that ennobles the profession of the soldier; and horsemanship, as practised in England at present, and with the esprit de corps of the several hunts, tends much to the same end. Those who pursue it in the field, learn to expose themselves to danger with less reluctance, are less anxious to get out of it, or given to lose their presence of mind when in it, than persons whose pursuits have been of a different turn; in fact, it may be said to increase natural courage. Such persons, again, as merely ride on horseback for exercise, find in it the great preservative of health. Nay, more than this, persons of tender constitutions have surmounted the weakness of their nature entirely, by horse-exercise and hunting; in proof of which, many cases could be quoted. The following, of a patient of the celebrated Dr Sydenham, is perhaps as conclusive as any other:—A gentleman, a relation of the Doctor's, who was brought so low by consumption, that there appeared to be no possibility of a recovery by medicine, was induced by him to try horse-exercise, and a journey to his native country. On leaving London, he was so weak as to be lifted on his horse, and was refused admittance to the first inn he stopped at, being supposed to be in a dying state. Notwithstanding, he persisted in riding, by easy stages, to Exeter, and gained so much strength by the way, that though one day his horse lay down with him, in some water, and he was forced to pass many hours in his wet clothes, he not only sustained no harm by the accident, but arrived at Exeter greatly recovered. Thinking he had gained his point, he left off horse-exercise, and had a relapse; but, on betaking himself again to the saddle, he obtained a perfect recovery. Nimrod, in one of his hunting tours, says, "My time was almost divided between my saddle and my bed; but I never knew what it was to be fatigued when I lived temperately, and went early to rest. Indeed, such a life bade defiance to disease. A celebrated physician of the last century used to recommend riding on horseback to his patients. 'Live,' said he, 'in a saddle.' That riding is the most wholesome of all exercises, I have little doubt. Despite of all the vile stuff that finds its road down his throat, who ever heard of a bilious post-boy?"

To this might be added, the no small advantage a person mounted on horseback derives, from breathing a purer air than when on foot, and consequently nearer to the ground. The salutary effect of the motion of a horse, also, on a sluggish or diseased liver, is acknowledged by all medical men.

We shall now take a view of horsemanship in the only forms in which it is at present applied to any useful or pleasurable purposes; namely, military, hunting, racing, and on the road; leaving the art of instructing horses for the Circus to those who find it profitable to fit them for it, which we admit they do to very great perfection, though we fear not without the necessary privation and punishment unavoidable, we believe, in such kind of instruction; or, in other words, in making animals perform far more, we conceive, than the Creator of them ever intended they should perform.

The military seat approaches nearer than any other to that of the manège; and, by reason of the horse-soldier having, in general, but one hand to hold his bridle with, is one which gives him great command over his horse, without disturbing his seat. He sits well down in his saddle, on his fork, or twist, with his body erect, and in perfect equilibrium with his horse; his legs well stretched down the sides, with a firm pressure of the calves, as well as of the knees and thighs, and the feet firm in the stirrups. But it is not by any one of these aids that he becomes a good horseman. He must be in perfect unison, as it were, with his horse's actions and paces, to maintain a good and graceful seat; and, in proportion to the just balance of his body, will he be able to have a steady hand, a point of vast importance to the dragoon. The importance of this balance, and keeping himself in a proper equilibrium with his horse, is increased by the fact of his not being allowed to rise to the horse's trot, and therefore requiring a still finer use of the bridle hand. "The man who rides with the aid of the proper equilibrium," says Colonel Peters (p. 234), "will, in case of necessity, know when to apply the strength he has retained with a steady, light hand, and govern every motion according as he finds it necessary for his purpose; play light with his own weight upon the saddle (by a gentle spring in the instep of both feet on the

With an easy pressure of both thighs, knees, and calves of the legs. When the horse jumps or plunges, these aids are also requisite to keep the seat; but, in an easy, steady pace forward, it is most particularly to be pointed out to a young man, and cannot be too often repeated, that, to become an easy, elegant, or proper horseman, he must learn to ride with comfort and pleasure to his horse as well as to himself; he must learn to seek his balance from his hip upwards, to keep the body with a slight inclination backwards from the perpendicular, and balance himself thus gradually on his horse in all the different places which, of course, cannot be expected all at once. A man that rides by the force of his knees alone, shaking his arms and hands, although he rides his distance in the same period of time that the good rider would, yet he cannot be said to ride his horse, or to have any part of his body in the proper equilibrium; but the man who rides his horse with a light, steady hand, and elastic body (which, when disturbed even, has the power of restoring itself to its former seat), in unison with the horse's action, may be truly said to ride in the proper equilibrium."

It would much exceed the limits of this article, were we to enter into the detail of the military riding-school; neither is such a task necessary, from the number of works that have been published on the subject, and also from the various changes in the system that are perpetually occurring, according with the fashion of the day. We shall proceed, then, at once to the general principles of horsemanship, as applicable to the road, the hunting-field, and the race-course, commencing with the road.

The act of mounting may be called the first step in practical horsemanship. With horses perfectly quiet, it matters little in what manner we approach them; but in everything that relates to horses, a certain precaution is necessary. Let the person who is about to mount, then, walk up to his horse, not directly in his face, lest he may alarm him, nor behind him, lest he may strike at him, which he would thus give him an opportunity of doing. Let him rather approach him on the left side, over against his shoulder, inclining something more to his head than to his flank. In the summer time, when the flies are troublesome, this caution is not ill bestowed, because the quietest horses will sometimes strike out, sideways, after the manner of cows, to rid themselves of their tormentors; and many a man has been injured in the abdomen, or thigh, from this cause. Old writers on horsemanship recommend the horseman, when about to place himself in the saddle, after having put the left foot firmly into the stirrup, to take the reins and the pommel of the saddle in his left hand, and laying his right hand fast upon the hinder part of the saddle, thus to spring into his seat. We should prefer his taking a lock of the mane, together with the reins, into the left hand; because, if he be a man of any considerable weight, his having recourse to the saddle for all the assistance he may require, would be very likely to displace it, especially as no horse in the hands of a good horseman is now tightly girthed.

When he is mounted, the proper adjustment of his reins is the next thing to be attended to. If a single-rein bridle, he has nothing to do but to draw the reins with his right hand through his left, till he finds he has got hold of his horse's mouth equally on both sides of it, when he shuts the left hand, letting the little finger separate the two reins. The same should be done with a double-rein bridle, only observing, as they are drawn through the hand, that the horse's mouth is to be consulted, as to whether that attached to the bridoon or to the bit is the one required to be first acted upon. Many an inexperienced horseman has met with accidents from want of a proper discrimination as to the right use of the reins, when mounted on high-spirited horses, with finely made, that is to say, highly susceptible mouths, and unused to a rough hand. The bridle reins should be held at a convenient length; for, if short, they will discompose the attitude of the body, by pulling the left shoulder forward; and they should be held with a firm grasp, dividing them, as before mentioned, with the little finger. When a horse pulls at his rider, he should advance his arm a little, but not the shoulder, towards the horse's head, raising his hand towards his breast, and the lower part of the palm rather than the upper; but he should not shorten the rein in his hand, if he can command his horse without it, or he may lose the proper appui, or bearing of his mouth. Old writers recommend the bridle-hand to be held perpendicular, the thumb being uppermost, and placed on the bridle. Modern practice is in favour of the knuckles being uppermost. The perpendicular hand may do very well in the school, or with the severe bit of the highly-drilled dragoon horse; but no man could ride a free-going race-horse over a course, or a hasty hunter over a country, in that form.

In dismounting a horse, the bridle and mane should be held together in the left hand, in the same manner as in mounting. Unless the horseman be very active, he may put his right hand on the pommel of the saddle, to raise himself, previously to throwing his right leg back over the horse; when, by grasping the hinder part of the saddle with the right hand, he lets himself down with ease. The right leg, however, should not be bent at the knee, or the spur may strike the horse's side, in the act of being thrown backward.

The first step towards perfection in a horseman, is to know and to feel how his horse is going; but this must be the result of some practice and experience. A horse may not only gallop false, that is to say, if going to the right he leads with the left leg, or, if going to the left, he leads with the right; but he is at times what is called disunited, that is, he leads with the opposite leg behind, to that which he leads with before. In both these cases, either in the school, or in his exercise, he must be stopped, and put off again properly. The method of effecting this, is by approaching your outward leg, and putting your hand outwards; still keeping the inward rein the shorter, and the horse's head inwards, if possible; and if he should still resist, then bend, and pull his head outwards also; but replace it again, bent properly inwards, the moment he goes off true. A horse is said to be disunited to the right, when going to the right, and consequently leading with the right leg before, he leads with the left leg behind; and is said to be disunited to the left, when going to the left, and consequently leading with the left leg before, he leads with the right behind. A horse may at the same time be both false and disunited; in correcting each of which faults, the same method must be used. He is both false and disunited to the right, when, in going to the right, he leads with the left leg before, and the right behind; notwithstanding that hinder leg be with propriety more forward under his belly than the left, because the horse is working to the right. And he is false and disunited to the left, when, in going to the left, he leads with the right leg before, and the left behind; notwithstanding, as above, that hinder leg be with propriety more forward under his belly than the right, because the horse is working to the left. A horse will also occasionally both trot and walk false.

Although the foregoing remarks apply principally to the working of a horse in a circle, or in the school; yet, as all horses will occasionally get disunited in their action, when going straightforward, it is very necessary that horsemen should know when they become so, and be able to set them right. Such action is extremely unpleasant to the rider; and likewise so much so to horses themselves, that they will not continue in it long, but generally quit it of their own accord. The Seat.—It was well observed by Don Quixote, in one of his lectures to Sancho, that the seat on a horse makes some people look like gentlemen, and others like grooms. But a wonderful improvement has taken place within the last half century in the seat on horseback, of all descriptions of persons, and effected chiefly by the simple act of giving the rider a few more inches of stirrup-leather. No gentleman now, and very few servants, are to be seen with short stirrups, and consequently, a bent-knee, which, independently of its unsightliness, causes uneasiness to the horse as well as to his rider; whose knees being lifted above the skirts of the saddle, deprive him of the assistance of the clip, by his thighs and legs. The short stirrup-leather, however, was adopted with the idea of its giving relief to the horse, although a moment's consideration would have proved the contrary, and for this reason; the point of union between a man and his horse, as well as the centre of action, lies just behind the shoulder-blades, which, as must be apparent to every one, is the strongest part of the horse's body, and where the sack of wheat or flour is placed by the farmer, or the miller. With short stirrup-leathers, the seat of the rider is thrown further back on the saddle, instead of being exactly in the centre of it, and consequently his weight thrown upon the part approaching the loins, the weakest part of the body, and very easily injured. From the same mistaken notion was the saddle formerly placed nearly a hand's-breadth from the shoulders, which, of course, added to the mischief; but modern practice has entirely remedied this, as it is now placed as near as possible to the shoulder-bones, so as not to interfere with the action of them.

Next to the advantages of a good seat to the horse, stands the ease and elegance of it in the rider. In the first place, what is natural is easy, and there must be no formal stiffness of the body of a man, or of a woman, who wishes to look well on horseback. When we see a man sitting upright as if he were impaled, and his body not appearing to yield at all to the motion of his horse, we cannot fancy his having a good hand upon him, because he cannot be in unison with him in his action; neither can he be firm in his seat. But to some persons a good seat is denied by their shape and make. For example, a man with short legs with large calves, and very round thighs, cannot sit so close to his saddle, as another whose legs are thinner and longer, and of course yield him a firmer clip; and whose thighs, instead of being round, are hollowed out on the inside, as we see in the form of our most eminent jockeys. The seat of the short-legged, large calved, round-thighed man, has been jocularly termed the "wash-ball seat," and not inaptly neither, for, like a wash-ball in a basin, he is seldom at rest in his saddle, from the absence of a proper clip. The thighs, in fact, are a most essential part of the horseman in giving him a good, graceful, and strong seat, as on the form of them depends greatly the good or bad position of the knee, which is a point of the utmost importance, not only to the eye, but to the firmness of his seat. The thighs, in fact, should be applied to the saddle and to the sides of the horse, chiefly by their inner surfaces, or the knees and toes would be too much out; and although the line is by no means required to be perpendicular, yet the shoulder, the hip, the knee, and the foot, should not deviate too far from it, to render a seat perfect. When this is the case, we may be certain the disposition of the thighs and legs is correct, as they will hang down sufficiently straight, and without force or restraint; which can never be the case, unless the body of the rider is placed evenly on the saddle, opening his knees a little, whereby his fork will come lower in the saddle, giving him the appearance, as Shakspeare expresses it, of being "incorpsed and demi-natured with the brave beast."

The position of the foot of the horseman is material both to comfort, safety, and elegance. In the old style of riding, the heels were turned outwards, which, of course, threw the toes inwards, and very near to, as well as parallel with, the shoulders of the horse; but this is all wrong. The toes should be turned a little outward and upward, which the slight opening of the knee induces. No animal, human or brute, can look well, or exert its strength well, with toes turned in, and the position is contrary to everything approaching to elegance.

The position of the foot in the stirrup, however, varies with the pursuits of the horseman. The soldier always, the rider for pleasure, or on the road, generally, rests on the ball of the foot, with a gentle play of the instep. But the man who rides after hounds, and the jockey when he rides a race, find it necessary to have the foot more home in the stirrup, with the toes turned a little upward, as well as a little outward. The advantages of all this are twofold. First, it gives them more power over their horses, by furnishing them with a more substantial fulcrum; and, secondly, to the man following hounds, it is a great security against the foot being chucked out of the stirrup, by the seat being disturbed in a leap, or from any of those causes which perpetually occur in crossing a country.

Great as has been the alteration for the better in the seat of Englishmen, in general, by increasing the length of the stirrup-leathers, and thereby placing them more properly in the saddle; yet, in the schools of the military this system has been said to have been carried too far, so as to endanger the safety of the rider. Indeed both Hippocrates and Galen speak of a disease which, in their time, was occasioned by long and frequent riding, with the legs hanging down without any support, stirrups then not being in use. How it happened that an advantage so obvious was so long in being made available, is not for us here to inquire; but we consider the support of the stirrup to be the sine qua non of the management and services of the saddle horse, for all essential purposes. Nevertheless its most essential use is confined to Great Britain alone, and that is, in enabling the horseman to rise in his saddle to meet the action of the horse in his trot, by which means a pace, otherwise most disagreeable and fatiguing, is rendered nearly the pleasantest of any. So long as the demi-pique saddle was in use, in which the horseman was so deep-seated, and trussed up as to make falling almost impossible; and he rode, as Sir Walter Scott made King James to ride, "a horse keeping his haunches under him, and seldom, even on the most animating occasions of the chase, stretching forward beyond the managed pace of the academy;" pressure on the stirrup might have been dispensed with, but with the saddles of the present day, and the more natural action of the horse, we consider it quite indispensable. It is indeed to the disuse of this practice in France, and other parts of the Continent, where rising in the stirrups is never resorted to even on the hardest trotting horses, that is to be attributed the almost rare occurrence of persons riding any distance, or at a quick rate, for pleasure. To this peculiar system in our horsemanship also are we indebted for our rapid style of posting, as without it post-boys could not endure the fatigue the action of a horse creates, especially in hot weather, over a fifteen miles' stage, at the rate of ten or twelve miles an hour, without a moment's intermission; whereas, by means of it, he performs that task with comparative ease and comfort. The objection to it on the part of foreigners lies in the fancied inelegance, if not indecency, of the motion, which we consider not worthy of an argument; but of this we are certain, that what is called "riding hard," that is, not rising in the stirrups, in the trot, nor leaning any weight upon them in the gallop, or canter, must be extremely distressing to horses, and especially to such as carry high weights.

Previously to our describing the various kinds of seat, it is necessary to observe, that how well soever a man may be placed upon his horse, his performance upon him will mainly depend on the use he makes of his hands. It is on this account that old writers on horsemanship have dwelt upon the difficulty of the art, rendered more so, in their time, when the airs of the manège formed part of it. The fact, however, is notorious, that not more than one man in a hundred of those who have been riding horses all their lives, has what is called "a good hand upon his horse," much less a fine one, which falls to the lot of but few. When, however, we consider first, that the hand of the rider is to the horse what the helm is to the ship, that it guides his motions and directs his course; and, secondly, that we have recourse to a severe and cutting instrument, acting upon so sensible and totally unprotected a part, as the natural mouth of a horse must be, it is at once apparent, that not only a fine hand, with an easy bit, must be most agreeable, and, at the same time, most serviceable to the horse, in any thing he is called on to perform, but that it constitutes the very essence of fine horsemanship. It has been before observed, that a horse's ear has been figuratively said to lie in his mouth, and no doubt he receives the instruction from his rider chiefly through that medium. How material, then, is it that it should be conveyed to him in a manner in which he is not only most likely to understand it, but in one the least disposed to irritate him? How often have we seen a horse fractious and unpleasant both to his rider and himself, when ridden by an indifferent horseman (allowing him even a good seat) but going placidly and pleasantly when mounted by another with a low and fine hand, which appears to sympathize with all his motions, and all his wishes. It is here that Art becomes the handmaid of Nature; and it is the assistance which it is in the power of a jockey with a fine hand to give a horse, which alone exhibits the superiority of one horse over another in himself equally good.

Whence this superiority of hand arises, it is very difficult to determine, particularly as it is so frequently apparent in men possessing equally good seats on their horses. From the well-known fact that it is an accomplishment, which in thousands and ten thousands of cases never can be acquired by the practice and experience of a long life, we may almost consider it to be, like the poets, an ex nato property in the human composition, and thus sought for in vain by those to whom nature has denied it. That it is intimately connected with the nervous influence of the touch is obvious, from its being the result of the action of the hand and arm; and it is in being delicately alive to every motion of the horse, that the excellence of a good hand consists. That it is associated with the good or bad state of the digestive organs, is proved by the necessity all persons find, who are called upon to excel in horsemanship, of living temperately, and keeping early hours. That it is the greatest security to the horseman, under all circumstances in which he can be placed, is also shewn by the numerous instances we meet with, of some persons being enabled to ride horses over every variety of ground, and in all paces, with security; but which, with others not equally gifted, are constantly getting into scrapes, either by falling on the road, running into fences in the field, bolting out of the course in a race, or falling backwards when rearing, which latter accident arises, in most cases, from a rough, unskilful hand.

Seat on the Road.—Of the various, and too often fatal accidents that occur to horsemen, the majority occur on the road. The reason of this is obvious. They are generally, with the exception of cases of inebriation, the result of horses running away with their riders, and either coming in contact with something in their course, which suddenly stops their career, when either one or both are thrown headlong to the ground. Accidents of this description are very frequently attended with the most serious consequences, and shew the necessity of persons who get on horseback being capable of commanding their horse. Next come accidents from horses falling; which are often attended with fracture of limbs, if not loss of life, chiefly, perhaps, from the hard nature of the ground on which the horse and his rider are thrown; for, if a twentieth part of the falls sportsmen get in the field, their horses so frequently falling upon them, were to occur upon hard ground, the danger in hunting would put a stop to it. Falls from horses starting only happen to persons who have a loose seat, and such should ride none but horses free from that fault. But the greatest safeguard on the road, next to a firm seat, is derived from the hand of the rider, who should never trust himself entirely to his horse, however safe he may consider him. He may tread on a rolling stone; the ground may give way from under him; he may step into a hole; or, by the effect of sudden alarm, he may lose the centre of gravity, and then, in all or either of these cases, the fall is worse, by reason of his getting no assistance from the rider, which he may have looked for, until past recovery, when he comes to the ground with a crash. We therefore recommend persons who ride the road, always to feel their horses' mouths lightly, by which means not only will the proper equilibrium be sustained, and they will be carried better for it; for, observe, a horse with a weight upon his back, and one without a weight upon his back, are by no means in relative positions, but, should a false step be made, the aid of the rider being instantly at hand, is nearly certain to recover him. By which rein the mouth should be felt, supposing the bridle to consist of a bit and a bridoon, must depend on the sensibility of it, although by changing the pressure from one to the other, the mouth is kept fresher and more lively than when one only is used, and especially if that one should be the bit. There is a certain, but not a large, proportion of horses, that are rideable for all purposes on the snaffle only, whose mouths are generally kept fresh by the light pressure they receive. These are perfect mouths; but, nevertheless, horses that have them in this perfection, should not be left quite to themselves in any one pace.

Previously to the general use of stage coaches, which are now to be found in abundance upon all roads, road-riding was much more in use than it is at present; and immense distances were travelled over in a day by graziers, horse and cattle dealers, racing jockeys, and others, whose habits of being so much on horseback rendered them superior to fatigue. A hundred miles, from sun-rise to sun-set on the same horse, was no uncommon day's work, and this when the roads were in a very different condition from that in which they now are, abounding in ruts and quarters, so that horses were travelling over half their ground, either on a narrow ridge, between two ruts, or over loose unbroken stones; and these were the days in which really good roadsters fetched large prices, as only horses with very good legs and feet could stand fast work long, or be depended upon as to safety. But all modern feats of men on horseback, or indeed the feats of any other period, on the authenticity of which we can rely, retire into the shade before that performed in the year 1831, by George Oshaldeston, Esq., of Hunmanby Hall, Yorkshire, over Newmarket Heath, who rode two hundred miles in nine hours and twenty minutes, winning his Herculean match with forty minutes in hand. As may be supposed, he was not restricted to the number of horses, which consisted of thirteen, then in training on the heath; but he rode one of them, Mr Gully's Tranby, by Blacklock, sixteen miles, at four four-mile heats. Mr Oshaldeston, also celebrated for his bold and judicious riding to hounds, appeared very little fatigued; and, after the use of the warm bath, and a short repose, joined in the festivities of the evening; and did not retire to rest till an hour after midnight. An easy seat in the saddle is very important to persons who ride many hours in succession on the road. To accomplish this the following rules should be observed:

To sit well down in the middle of the saddle, with just that length of stirrup leathers that will allow of the fork clearing the pommel of the saddle; for a greater length than this would add to the fatigue of a journey, and lessen the rider's command over his horse. On the other hand, short stirrup leathers create fatigue by contracting the knees, and thereby adding to the exertion of rising to the action of the horse in the trot, which should chiefly proceed from a gentle play of the instep. The body of the rider should incline forwards in the trot, as, by forming a proper counterpoise, the movement of the horse is facilitated; and, above all things, steadiness of seat is required, or the latter will be much incommoded in his action. So distressing, indeed, is a swaggering unsteady seat, that it is a well established, though not a universally known fact, that horses will carry some persons of considerably greater weight than others, long distances on the road, or over a country in hunting, with less fatigue to themselves, solely because they ride them with a firm seat and an easy hand. In a long day's journey on the road, great relief is given to a horse by now and then dismounting from his back, and leading him a few hundred yards; as also by frequent sips of water, particularly if the weather be hot. As to frequent baiting of a hackney in a day's journey, the practice is not recommended. In a journey of sixty miles, he should only be stopped once, but then it should be for at least two hours, during one hour of which time he should be shut up in a plentifully littered stall. It is well known that a horse in good condition would perform this distance without hurting him, if he were not baited at all, but we are far from recommending the practice. Short stops, however, on the road are injurious rather than beneficial, and teach horses to hang towards every public-house they pass by, in their journey.

Most horses should be ridden in double reined bridles long distances on the road, and all should be ridden with spurs. Should they flag, or become leg-weary towards the end of a day, the use of the curb may be the means of avoiding falls; and, by the gentle application of the spur, a sort of false, that is, more than natural, action is created, which will have the same beneficial effect. As to the rate at which horses should be put on the road, that is a point so much under the control of circumstances, that no line can be drawn respecting it; but our experience assures us, that if a horse has to perform the distance we have already taken as a fair day's work, namely, sixty miles, under not a very heavy man, he would perform it with more ease to himself, and feel less from it the following day, if he travelled at the rate of seven or eight miles in the hour, than less. In the first place, this rate of speed is no great exertion to a horse of good action, and also in good condition; and, in the next, by performing his day's work in less time than if he travelled slower, he gets sooner to rest, and is, of course, sooner fit to go to work again. Let it, however, be observed, that he should have two hours quiet rest in the middle of the journey, which will enable him to perform it without fatigue. But we do not recommend this rate of travelling, when a much greater extent of ground is before us. If a horse is to be ridden two or three hundred miles or more, he ought not to travel, in the best of weather, more than from thirty to forty miles per day, and he should rest the entire of the fifth day, or he will become leg-weary, hit his legs, or perhaps fall. We are of course alluding to valuable horses, with which extra expense is not to be put into the scale against the risk of injuring them. The earlier, travelling horses, in the summer particularly, start in the morning, the better, that they may get their day's journey over in good time, and be early shut up for the night.

The following good advice to persons riding on the road is very much to the purpose (see Ency. Brit., p. 624):

"When you ride a journey, be not so attentive to your horse's nice carriage of himself, as to your encouragement of him, and keeping him in good humour. Raise his head; but if he flags, you may indulge him with bearing a little more upon the bit than you would suffer in an airing. If a horse is lame, tender-footed, or tired, he naturally hangs on his bridle. On a journey, therefore, his mouth will depend greatly on the goodness of his feet. Be very careful, then, about his feet, and not let a farrier spoil them." To this we add, that, as has been already observed, horses often fall on the road, from the state of their shoes being neglected; in journeys, and on hot and dusty roads especially, the feet as well as the shoes demand care. They should be stopped every night with moist clay, or what is better, wetted tow, which, whilst it cools and moistens the foot, acts beneficially, by causing pressure to the sensible sole and the frog.

The Hunting Seat.—Next to that of a jockey, on whose skill in the saddle thousands of pounds may be depending, the seat of the fox-hunter is most essential of any connected with amusement. He must not only be firm in his saddle, to secure himself against falls when his horse is in the act of leaping, but he must unite with a firm and steady seat a light and delicate hand, to enable him to make the most of his horse, as well as to preserve himself as much as possible against danger. His position in the saddle should resemble that which we have recommended for the road, with the exception of the length of his stirrup leathers, and the position of his foot in the stirrup irons. The former, the length of stirrup leather, should depend on the form and action of his horse, as well as the nature of the country he has to ride over. With a horse very well up in his forehand, with his haunches well under him, and going perfectly collected and within himself, his stirrup leathers may be long enough to admit of the knee being very nearly straight, and the foot resting on the ball. But, on the other hand, if his horse be somewhat low in his forehand (which many first-rate hunters are), with very powerful action in his hind-quarters; if ridden in hilly countries, or if at all disposed to be a puller, he will require to be at least two holes shorter in his stirrups; and his foot will be firmer if placed "home" in them, instead of resting on the balls. Above all things, he must acquire a firm, close, and well-balanced seat in his saddle, which is not merely necessary in leaping, but in galloping over every description of ground. A swaggering seat in the last mentioned act is sufficiently bad to make a great difference to a hunter in a severe chase; but when we picture to ourselves a horse alighting on the ground, after having cleared a high fence, and his rider alighting, two or three seconds afterwards in his saddle, so far forward, perhaps, as to fall beyond the pillars of support, or backwards behind the centre of action and the part (just behind the shoulders) which ought to form the junction between the rider and his horse, we can readily imagine how distressing it must be to him, and how much a large fence, so taken, must exhaust him over and above what would be the case if he had had the assistance of a firm hand to support him on alighting; but which, however, with such a seat as we have been describing, no man can possess. The first requisite, then, for a person who follows hounds is the combination of a light hand with a firm seat; and fortunate is it for his horse, as well as for himself, if he possess it to the degree required to constitute a fine horseman, over a country.

But as the science of war cannot be learned perfectly by anything short of experience in the field, neither can the art of horsemanship, as far as the sportsman is concerned, be learned perfectly in the riding-school or the academy. If our own observation did not confirm this fact, it would ap- sportsman is subject in crossing a country is the cause of so many disasters.

In what are termed the Provincial Hunting Countries, in contradistinction to Leicestershire, and the other chiefly grazing countries, timber, with the exception of stiles, is not so frequent, nor is the ox-fence to be seen at all; but there is comparatively more fencing, though chiefly hedges and ditches. In many of these, Dorsetshire in particular, the fences are generally what is termed double; that is, there is a ditch on each side of the hedge, which it requires a horse to be prepared for, by receiving, if not his education, a good deal of instruction in the country. In other parts of England, Cheshire and Lancashire, for example, we find fences that require an apprenticeship. They consist of a hedge and ditch, not of large dimensions, but in consequence of the former being planted on a cop, or bank, a horse must land himself on the cop before he can get his footing to clear the fence, provided the hedge be on the rising side. Were he to spring at it from the level of the field, and clear the bank, together with the hedge and ditch, the exertion would be so great as soon to exhaust his powers. Those fences require horses very active and ready with their hinder legs, and also riders with good hands. In all strong plough-countries, as our fine loams and clays are termed by sportsmen, hedges with ditches (for the most part only one ditch) prevail. For height and width they are not equal, by much, to those of the grazing districts, but circumstances render them equally difficult and trying to the skill of a horseman, and the judgment of his horse, and oftentimes still more so. In the former, although the fence is large (brooks excepted) the ground on the rising side is almost always sound and firm; whereas in deep plough-countries it is generally soft, and often, what is worse, it is sticky. Neither is this all. It very often happens that the headland of a field is ploughed to within a foot or two of the ditch, when a small ridge, or "bulk," as it is termed in some districts, is left to prevent the soil of the field washing into the ditch. This ridge is often very perplexing to the horseman. He must either put his horse at the fence so as to clear all at once, or he must let him take his footing from off this narrow ridge, which, if his head be not in a very good place, and his rider's hand an indifferent one, makes even a small fence dangerous. The objection to a ploughed country also holds good as regards the other, the landing side of the fence. In the grass countries, a horse alights on turf sufficiently elastic to break the concussion from the weight of himself and his rider, but seldom soft enough to sink him below his hoofs. On the other hand, in the ploughed districts, he is perpetually alighting in fallowed ground, or in that sown with wheat or other corn, which, particularly after a severe frost, is so far from being firm enough to bear his weight, that it sinks him nearly to the knees. This is very distressing, especially to a horse which carries a heavy man; and here the skill of the rider is shewn in his preventing his jumping at fences of this description, higher or farther than is absolutely necessary to clear them. To a man who follows hounds, indeed, this art of handing his horse easily over fences, is one of the very highest value; and to the possession of it, to perfection, is to be attributed the extraordinary performance of hunters under some of our heaviest sportsmen, such as Mr Edge and his brother, Mr Richard Gurney, Sir Bellingham Graham, Mr Maxse, Lord Alvanley, and others, in fast runs of an hour or more, over strongly inclosed countries.

Walls are, we believe, the only fence met with in Great Britain which we have as yet left unnoticed. They are of two descriptions, namely, fast, by means of mortar, and loose, being built without mortar. The first do not often come in the way of the sportsman; and it is well that they do not, for, in the event of a horse striking them, they do not yield... Horseman-to his weight. The last, the loose walls, particularly those met with in Gloucestershire and Oxfordshire, are the least dangerous places he can ride at; for, unless his horse be blown, or he is himself a very powerless horseman, they seldom resist him sufficiently to throw him down. Their height varies from three to five feet; but as there never is a ditch on either side of them, and the ground is generally firm in the parts of those counties which are inclosed with walls; those even of the last-mentioned height may be taken with safety by a good horseman, on a horse that is accustomed to them, and is not distressed at the time by the pace; for, as "it is the pace that kills," so is it the pace that causes falls.

The following directions may be serviceable to a young beginner in the hunting field:—When hounds find and go away, place yourself well down in your saddle, on your fork, or twist, and don't be standing up in your stirrups (as formerly was the fashion, and the cause of many a dislocated neck), sticking out your rump as if it did not belong to you. Let your knee be not very far from straight, with your foot well out in front of it, and feeling in the stirrup as if it formed a sufficient fulcrum for your bodily strength to act upon, in the assistance your horse may require from you. Be assured that the military seat, with the very long stirrup leathers, will not do here, however graceful it may appear on a parade. There must be a kind of obstinate power in the rider, to act against the preponderance of his horse, particularly at what are called drop-leaps, in very deep ground; or, in case of his making a blunder, or getting into false ground, in his gallop. Having got well away with the pack, keep your head up, with your reins in the left hand, and your whip in your right, held perpendicularly upwards, with the thong falling loosely through your hand, when it will be ready for all purposes. Cast your eye forward, to take a view of the country, and then on the body of the hounds, to satisfy yourself that they are well settled to the chase. And now comes the young fox-hunter's trial. You must neither take liberties with the hounds, nor with your horse. Ride wide of, that is, on the left, or on the right of, the former, turning as you see them turn, and never find yourself exactly behind them, on their line; and no matter how perfect may be the latter, never trust him to himself, nor upset him by going too fast for him, or, in other words, over-marking him for pace. However good his mouth, never ride him in chase with quite a slack rein, for, independently of your own safety, it is not giving him a fair chance. He requires your support, and he should have it.

In riding to hounds, there is much to be gained by what is termed picking out your country. Avoid going straight across land highly ridged, and, consequently, deeply furrowed, if possible to avoid it, but rather take your line diagonally. If the furrows are very deep and holding, make for the side, or the head-land, where, of course, it is comparatively level ground. Even if it takes you a little out of your line, you will find your advantage in this, for you may increase your rate of going, and that with ease to your horse, more than equal to the extra distance you have to go. If your horse appear somewhat distressed, it is on a head-land, or still more on a long side-land, that you have a good opportunity of recovering him; and here you may have recourse to the old-fashioned style of riding a hunter. You may stand up in your stirrups, catching fast hold of your horse's head, and pulling him well together, when you will find, that, without slackening his pace, he has recovered his wind and can go on. Avoid deep ground as much as possible; but when in it, keep a good pull on your horse, and by no means attempt to go so fast over it, as you have been going over that which was sound. After Christmas, turnip fields should be skirted if possible; for, by reason of the many ploughings they receive at seed-time, the land sown with turnips becomes so loose and porous after severe frost, that it cannot carry a horse. Also avoid crossing fallows, or land sown with wheat. If obliged to go athwart them, get on the head-land; or if you ride straight down them, choose the wettest furrow you can see. It is sure to have the firmest bottom, which is proved by the water standing in it.

As no man can say where a fox-chase will end, have an eye to your horse, and endeavour to give him all the advantages in his favour that the country and the pace will admit of. Next to a judicious choice of your ground, is quickness in turning with hounds, as the difference between riding inside and outside of them, in their turns (be it remembered hounds very seldom run straight) is very considerable indeed; and to a certain degree corresponds with what is called "the whip-hand" in a race. Again, if you wish to stand well with the master of the pack, and to obtain the character of a sportsman, observe the following rules:—Never press upon hounds, even in chase. When they have lost the chase, in other words, when they are at fault, pull up your horse and keep wide of them; and, in the words of a celebrated old sportsman, "always anticipate a check."

Never, for the sake of displaying your horsemanship, or your horse, take an unnecessary leap when hounds are running, nor a large one when a smaller is in your view, unless the latter take you too much out of your line, or for a reason which we shall presently give. If your horse is a good timber leaper, and not blown, prefer a moderate timber fence to a rough, and blind hedge-and-ditch fence, as less likely to give you a fall, neither will it take so much out of your horse. But when your horse becomes distressed, avoid timber, for if he do not clear it, he will give you a worse fall in that state than if he were quite fresh. A blown horse falls nearly as heavy as a dead one. There is, however, another precaution to be observed with horses a good deal beaten by the pace. Have an eye, then, rather to the nature of the ground on which it is placed, than to the size of the fence; that is, prefer a good-sized fence, where you see firm ground for your horse to spring from, to a small one where it is soft and sticky. Moreover, a distressed horse will often rise at a fence of some height and appearance, whereas he will run into, or, at all events, endeavour to scramble through, a small one. If you decide upon the smaller place, let him go gently at it, as he will be less likely to give you a fall; at all events, he may not give you so bad a one as if you went fast up to it. Some horses get out of scrapes better than others; but it is as well not to give them an opportunity of shewing their prowess in such matters.

A chief requisite to a good rider across a country is, courage, one of the most common qualities of human nature; and another is, coolness. No man, when flurried, can do any one thing well; but when we consider the variety of objects that the sportsman, following hounds, has to attract his notice, and the many obstacles he may have to encounter, it is evident that, according to the old adage, "he must have all his wits about him." The perfection of fine horsemanship in the hunting-field, then, is in a man riding well up to hounds, when going their best pace, over a stiff country, and yet appearing to be quite at his ease, and his horse, as it were, sympathising with him in his calmness. Such a man (and there are some such in every hunt, but not many) is capable of taking every advantage that can be taken of country, hounds, and all obstacles which appear to oppose him in his career. Another signal advantage to the sportsman also arises from his coolness in these moments of no small mental, as well as bodily, excitement and exertion. He is able to observe the beautiful working of the hounds, which is displayed to advantage with a burning scent; and he enjoys it the more, in consequence of the superiority of his horsemanship having placed him in a situation where he is not molested by the crowd. The greater part of mankind, it is true, are endowed with a capacity for performing, and, to a certain degree, excelling in, the various exercises which have been invented for our amusement; but we have reason to believe, that out of the vast numbers of persons who attempt the apparently simple art of horsemanship, particularly that part of it which we have now been speaking of, there are fewer who arrive at perfection in it, than in any other with which we are acquainted. Luckily, however, for sportsmen, it is not in horsemanship as in the fine arts, which admit of no difference between distinguished success and absolute failure; and it is certain that there are more good and spirited riders to hounds at the present day, than were ever known since fox-hunting, as now practised, begun. And Englishmen may be proud of this; for although amongst the classical glories of antiquity, we hear nothing of leaping five-barred gates, twenty feet drains, and six-feet walls, after hounds, yet a daring horseman always found honour. Alexander the Great first signalized himself by subduing an unruly horse, which no man but himself dared to mount; and his celebrated general, Eumenes, was first noticed by Philip his father, on account of his skill in horsemanship and all public exercises. Neither are there wanting parallel cases in our own country, in which titles and honours have been conferred upon persons who might never have been known to him who conferred them, but for their possessing similar accomplishments.

Although speed in the hunter is now absolutely necessary, from the much increased rate of hounds, yet it is equally necessary, in most of our hunting countries, that he should be a perfect fencer as well, and that his rider should be an accurate judge of the extent of his fencing powers. Thus it often happens that horses, not equal in speed to others, get quicker over a stiffly-inclosed country than they do, because, by the means of their superior fencing, they are able to cut off angles and go straighter. In fact, there are frequent instances of one individual sportsman beating every other in the field, and being alone throughout a run, merely by clearing a great fence in the direct line of the hounds at starting; in avoiding which, so much ground had been lost by the rest of the field, that it could not be recovered by them until the chase was ended.

The effect of the exertion of leaping, in horses, is pretty accurately ascertained by the observation and experience of sportsmen; but some rather curious facts are drawn from them. A very large fence, as has been before observed, exhausts a horse, or, in the language of the field, "takes a good deal out of him;" nevertheless, a hunter becomes sooner distressed over quite an open country, when the pace is very severe, than he does over an inclosed one, provided the fences are not very large indeed. This is accounted for in two ways: First, fences check the speed of hounds, and consequently the speed of horses. Secondly, the mere act of pulling or gathering a horse together, to shorten his stride previously to his taking his leap, is a very great relief to his wind, as we know from the effect a good pull at his bridle, towards the end of his course, has on that of the race-horse. At several kinds of fences, likewise, it is necessary that he should be pulled up nearly, if not quite, into a walk, to enable him to take them with safety, such as fences by the sides of trees, hedges with ditches on each side of them, particularly if they are what is termed "blind;" in short, all places known in the hunting vocabulary as cramped places, as well as now and then a timber fence, which must be taken nearly at a stand. And it was the old system of taking all upright fences, such as gates, rails, stiles, and hedges without ditches, at a stand, that enabled the low-bred hunter of the early part and middle of the last century to live with hounds as well as he did live with them. The very short time that it takes for a horse to recover his wind, to a certain extent, might be proved by a reference to stage-coach work. Previously Horsemanship to the perfect manner in which it is now performed, and the superior condition of the cattle, from their owners having at length found out how to feed them, it was not unusual for a coachman to have a high blower, as a thick or bad winded horse is called on the road, in his team, which might scarcely be able to keep time. If he found him distressed, he would pull up his coach on the top of a hill, and draw back the distressed horse from his collar. But how long would he keep him in this position? Why, not many seconds, before he would be sufficiently relieved to proceed. Thus the country of all others which puts the physical powers of horses to the greatest test in following hounds, is one which is hilly, and totally without fences, of which the Sussex South Downs, in the neighbourhood of Brighton, may be taken as a sample. Nothing but a thorough-bred horse, and a good one too, can live quite alongside hounds, going their very best pace, more than half an hour over such a country as this, and very few can do even so much, if they carry more than average weight. The open ploughed countries, such as great part of Wiltshire and Hampshire, are for the same reason very distressing to horses, and require them to have a great share of blood; but hounds do not, neither can they, run so fast over ploughed ground, as over old, or maiden turf, which the Sussex Downs are clothed with. In the first place, the scent is seldom so good; secondly, the ground is not only not elastic, which the other is, but it impedes the progress of hounds from two other causes; its surface is less even, and the soil of all ploughed land sticks more or less to the feet of hounds; or, in the language of the huntsman, it "carries" invariably after a slight frost on the previous night.

We now resume our advice to the young foxhunting horseman: It is the practice of all first-rate horsemen over a country to ride slowly at the majority of fences. For example, if the ditch be on the rising side, you may cause your horse to put his feet into it before he rises at the hedge, if you hurry him at it. Should the ditch be on the landing side, the case is somewhat altered, as the pace you ride at must be regulated by its width. If you have reason to believe it is of moderate width, do not go fast at the fence, because it will cause your horse to leap further than he needs to leap, and of course help to exhaust him. But if, when within a few yards of the hedge, going slowly at it, you perceive the ditch is a broad one, "put in some powder," as the modern sporting term is; that is, urge your horse by the hand and spur, and he will be aware of what you wish him to do, namely, to extend himself so as to clear a wide space of ground. If the ground on the landing side be lower than that on the rising side, causing what is called "a drop leap," or even if the ground be not lower, but soft or boggy, your horse will look for assistance from you on alighting, which you should give him by throwing your body back, having at the same time a resisting power from your stirrups. But another precaution is necessary when the ditch is on the rising side, or indeed with all fences except those (as will be hereafter named) which require to be ridden quickly at. This is, to fore-shorten the horse's stroke so as to enable him to gather himself together for the spring, or he may misjudge his distance, and get too near to his fence to rise at it. In fact, to judge accurately of the distance from the fence, at which the spring should be taken, is a great accomplishment in a man and a horse. In the former, it is the result of experience and a quick eye; with the latter, it is in great measure dependent on temper; and consequently violent horses, "rushing fencers," as they are termed, never perfectly acquire it. It is a serious fault in a horse to take his spring sooner than he need take it; and perfect fencers go close up to their fences before they rise at them, particularly to hedges when the ditches are on the landing side. Horses, however, of hasty tempers, particularly well- Horseman-bred ones, with great jumping powers, cannot always be made to do so. Neither will they save themselves by walking into, or pushing through, places which do not require to be jumped; on the contrary, many otherwise excellent hunters will scarcely suffer a brier to touch their legs. A good bridle-hand here comes into play, more especially with horses who are rather difficult to handle, either from too fine a mouth, or a loose, ill-formed neck. It is difficult, however, to offer instruction here, as there ought to be an absolute interchange of feeling between the instructor and the instructed, to render them intelligible to each other; but we will endeavour to make ourselves understood:—When you approach a fence with a horse of this description, you should leave him as much to himself as you find it prudent to do, particularly when within a few yards of it. If you are obliged to check his speed, do so with as light a hand as possible; and if he shews a dislike to be much checked, by throwing up his head, or otherwise, drop your hand to him, and let him go. He has by this time most probably measured the fence by his eye, and it may not be safe to interfere with him.

Double fences, particularly with a horse not quite perfect in his mouth, and the setting on of his head, try the hand of the horseman. The first part of the fence, usually a ditch, may be cleared without any difficulty, and so may the second, if visible; but it often happens that neither horse nor rider is prepared for the second. Here it is that, in our opinion, lifting a horse is to be recommended, and in very few cases besides. Our objection to it arises from the horse being led to expect it; and if he do not get it at the critical moment, it may mislead him. In fact, it requires a hand nicer than common to make a practice of lifting a horse at his fences. Nevertheless, in the instance we have alluded to, the unforeseen ditch, it is useful; as also towards the end of a run, when a horse, from distress, is given to be slovenly at his fences, if not disposed to run into them. In leaping timber fences, we consider the attempt to lift a hunter dangerous; for a horse becomes a good timber-leaper from confidence; and if he finds he is to wait, as it were, for your pleasure for him to rise at a gate or a stile, he will be very apt to make mistakes.

We have already observed, that timber fences are the most dangerous of any, by reason of their general strength; if a horse strikes them with his fore-legs, or gets across them, as it were, by not being able to bring his hinder-quarters clear of them, they are nearly certain to cause him to fall. And he falls from timber in a form more dangerous to his rider than when he merely stumbles and eventually falls, by putting his feet into a ditch. In the latter case, his fore-quarters come to the ground first; and by breaking the force of the fall, the rider has time to roll away from him before he himself rolls over, should the violence of the fall cause him to do so. In the former, if the timber be strong enough firmly to resist the weight and force of a horse that strikes it with his fore-legs, especially if above the knees, the first part of his body which comes to the ground is either his back or his rump. Should the rider then not be thrown clear of him, he must be made of hard materials if no bones are broken, or some serious injury sustained. All this, then, enforces the advice we have already given, of avoiding strong timber with horses not perfect at leaping it, as much as may be compatible with keeping your place with hounds; and still more so with horses, how perfectsoever they may be at it, that are blown, or very much distressed. It likewise induces us to point out the best and safest method of riding at this description of fence.

Never ride a horse fast at a timber fence, unless it be a low one, with something wide to be cleared on the landing side. If a man or a boy is seen exercising himself in jumping height, you do not see him run quickly at it, nor does he run over any considerable space of ground before he springs. On the contrary, he only takes a few steps, and those at a moderate rate. Never, then, ride your hunter fast at gates, stiles, &c. unless in the one case alluded to. Mr Thomas Asheton Smith, perhaps more celebrated for his horsemanship in the hunting field than any other person of the present age, and who was for many years at the head of the Quorndon (Leicestershire) Hunt, never rode fast at any fences, brooks excepted, and then only under circumstances which will be explained when we treat on that part of our subject. When riding at timber, however, take a firm hold of your horse's head, chiefly by the aid of the bridoon, if his mouth is good enough for it; and let him understand, by assuming an air of resolution on your part, that you not only mean him to leap it, and that you will not suffer him to turn his tail to it, but that it is something at which his best energies will be required of him. But, above all things, do not interfere with his stroke or stride, unless absolutely called upon by some peculiarity of the ground, such as a grip on the headland, or a small ditch on the rising side. A horse making up his mind to leap a timber fence, will of his own accord regulate that matter, and gradually gather himself together on his haunches, previous to being required to take his spring. He will also, if you let him, often make choice of his pace at which he goes up to a gate, &c. It is true the deer can clear a greater height in its trot than in any other pace; but a horse prefers the very slow gallop, or canter, when thus called upon to exert himself; for if he do trot to any upright fence, we generally see him break into a canter in the last few yards. As the fulcrum for the spring comes from behind, the canter is the most natural pace, the haunches being at this time more under him.

The same instructions to the horseman hold good with regard to stone walls as to timber fences, at least to those met with in England, which are loose, and without ditches. But in several parts of Scotland the case is different, as the sportsman very frequently has to encounter walls with ditches on one side or the other of them. In consequence of their being placed at some distance from the wall, to prevent the water which runs down them undermining the foundation of it, there is frequently room, when the ditch is on the rising side, for a horse to leap the ditch, and take a second spring from the intermediate space, and so clear the wall. But when he has to leap the wall, with the ditch on the landing side, it becomes a very difficult fence, and must be ridden at with judgment. If the ditch be not too far from the wall, to come within the stretch of a hunter, he should be ridden quickly at it, and well roused by the rider, to make him extend himself sufficiently; but if it be too far, he should be put very slowly at the wall, so as to enable him to drop, with his hinder legs at least, on the intermediate space, and from thence spring over the ditch. This fence is very trying to horses not accustomed to it; and with those which are, one fact becomes apparent, namely, that the mere holding the reins of a bridle does not constitute what is called "a hand" on a horse. A workman with a "finger" is wanted here.

In riding at every description of timber your seat as well as your hand requires attention. You have already been told on what part of your horse you ought to sit, namely, in the middle of your saddle, which should be placed close to the shoulder bones, where your seat will be most secure, from its being just in the centre of motion when your horse springs at his fence; as, in the rising and falling of a board placed in equilibrium, the centre will be most at rest. Your true seat, indeed, will be found nearly in that part of your saddle into which your body would naturally slide if you mounted without stirrups. But other security than this is required, to insure safety over very high fences. It is not the horse's rising that tries the rider's seat; the lash of his hinder legs is what ought to be chiefly guarded against, and is best done by the body's being greatly inclined backward. Grasp the saddle lightly with the hollow, or inner part of your thighs, but let there be no stiffness in any part, of the person at this time, particularly in the loins, which should be as pliant as those of a coachman on his box, when travelling over a rough road. A stiff seat cannot be a secure one, because it offers resistance to the violent motions of the horse, which is clearly illustrated by the cricket-player. Were he to hold his hand firm and fixed when he catches a ball struck with great force, his hand or arm would be broken by the resistance; but by yielding his hand gradually, and for a certain distance, to the motion of the ball, by a due mixture of opposition and obedience, he catches it without sustaining injury. Thus it is in the saddle. A good horseman recovers his poise, by giving some way to the motion, whereas a bad one is flung from his seat, by endeavouring to be fixed in it. In old times, when hunters were trained to leap all upright fences standing, these precautions were still more necessary, because the effect of the lash of the hinder quarters was more sudden and violent, in consequence of the horse being so close to his fence, that he rose perpendicularly at it, and not with the lengthened sweep of a flying leap.

Although Virgil, in his third Georgic, speaks of not suffering the brood mare to leap fences (non salu superare eam), we find nothing on this subject in the classics, to induce us to believe that the ancients, although they hunted, were given to ride over fences. Here they sustained a loss; for we know few more delightful sensations, than that experienced in the act of riding a fine flying leaper over a high and broad fence. Nothing within the power of man approaches so nearly to the act of flying; and it is astonishing what a great space of ground has been covered at one leap by horses following hounds, or, at other times, with first-rate horsemen on their backs, who alone have the power of making them extend themselves to the utmost; and particularly when the ground, on the rising side, is sound, and somewhat in favour of the horse. In the grand Leicestershire steeple chase of 1829, a grey horse, called "The King of the Valley," the property of Mr Mixse, and ridden by the justly celebrated Mr Richard Christian of Melton Mowbray, cleared the previously-unheard-of space of eleven yards, or thirty-three feet. Yet, after all, the most extraordinary fact relating to the act of leaping in horses, is the power they have of extending themselves by a second spring, as it were, when, on being suspended in the air, they perceive something on the further side of a fence, for which they were not prepared. That they occasionally do this under good horsemen, all good horsemen of experience can vouch for; but whence the fulcrum is derived, it would be difficult to determine. All horses which have been in Leicestershire, and other countries where the fences are large and wide, become more or less accomplished in the act of throwing themselves forward, as well as springing upward, causing a very pleasant sensation in the rider, as well as an assurance that he is not likely to drop short into the ditch or brook.

We have already said, that brooks stop a field more than any other description of fence, and for the following reasons: Very few men, and still fewer horses, like jumping brooks. In the first place, as concern the rider, they are very apt to injure his horse by a strain, or a bad overreach; secondly, water is deceiving as to the extent of it; thirdly, a wide brook takes much out of a horse; and, lastly, the banks often give way, after the horse supposes he has landed himself; and although it is easy for him to get into a brook, it is often very difficult for him to get out of one. Few horses become very good water-jumpers, unless they have been hunted a good deal in countries where brooks abound, and also have been fortunate in not getting into one of them in their noviciate.

For this reason, it is a hazardous experiment to give a large price for a hunter, how highsoever may be his character, that has been only hunted in counties like Hampshire or parts of Wiltshire, where there are no brooks but such as, from the soundness of their bottoms, horses may walk through. We have already stated the most likely way to make a young horse a good brook-jumper; a very superior accomplishment in a hunter, and chiefly to be attained by his acquiring confidence.

There is one other untoward circumstance attending leaping brooks with hounds. They are, for the most part, met with in the middle of a field, and it often happens that, until the horseman arrives on the very brink of them, he cannot form a correct estimate of their nature or extent. They also vary much in both these respects; we mean in the soundness or unsoundness of their banks, and in their width, in the space of a few yards; so that it is in some measure a matter of chance whether you have to leap a wide brook or a narrow one. But then, it may be said, you can always satisfy yourself on these points. True; you may do so; but what would too often be the consequence? Why, if you shew your horse a brook before you ride him at it, it would too frequently happen that he would not have it at all; add to which, whilst you were doing this, on a good scenting day, the hounds would get a long way a-head of you. Besides, the vis vivida, or momentum of the horse's gallop, so necessary to get him well over wide brooks with rotten banks, is wanted, but in this case would to a certain extent be lost; and if he is once pulled up, and turned around, it is not so readily acquired again, as he is always more or less alarmed, after having got a sight of what he is going to encounter. Wide brooks, then, with uncertain banks, are the only fences which should be ridden very fast at; for, exclusive of the advantage the horse gets from the impetus derived from the speed, should he fall on the other side from false ground, he will generally save himself from dropping backwards into the brook, an object of no small importance to him, as also to his rider. There are, however, exceptions to the rule of riding fast at brooks. When they are not wide, and the banks are sound, it takes less out of a horse to put him at a moderate rate at them. Neither should he be ridden quickly at them when they overflow their banks, as it will then require all his circumspection and care to know when, or where, to spring from, to cover them. In fact, overflowed brooks are rather formidable obstacles; but (a fine trial of hand) numerous instances do occur in the course of a season, where they are leaped when in that state by some of the field, but not by many.

Although, when the sportsman rides over a very wide brook, or any other fence which requires much ground to be covered, he has a certain hold by his bridle; yet, as may be supposed, it is very unequal to the weight of his own body, increased by the resistance of the air. How happens it, then, that his horse does not leap from under him? or, at least, how is it that, when the horse alights, the rider alights in the very same spot in the saddle on which he sat when his horse rose at it? The fact is, his body so far partakes of the speed of his horse, and increases in common with it, that, with very little assistance from his bridle-reins, he keeps himself in his proper place. If it were not so, what would become of the rider in the circus, who leaps directly upward, through a hoop perhaps, or over his whip, whilst his horse is going at considerable speed? He would, of course, alight upon the ground, perpendicularly, under the point at which he sprang from his saddle. It is evident, however, that on leaving the saddle, the body of the rider has equal velocity with that of the horse; and the spring, which he takes perpendicularly upward, in no de-

gree diminishes this velocity; so that, while he is ascending from the saddle, he is still advancing with the same speed as his horse, and continues so advancing until his return to the saddle. In this case, the body of the rider describes the diagonal of a parallelogram; one side of which is in the direction of the horse's motion, and the other perpendicularly upward, in the direction in which he makes the leap. From these facts, these striking instances of the composition of motion, then, may the advantages of good, and the disadvantages of bad, horsemanship be appreciated; and as it appears that the motions of the rider and his horse are so intimately connected and in unison with each other (for were the circus rider to project his body forward, in his leap through the hoop, as he would do if it were on the ground, he would alight on his horse's head or neck, or perhaps before his head, for he would then advance forward more rapidly than his horse), the importance of a steady seat and a good hand is apparent, and accounts for some men crossing a country on middling horses, quicker and better than others do upon really good ones.

Having spoken of overflown brooks, and being aware of the many fatal disasters that have occurred to sportsmen in water, and the narrow escapes of drowning from crossing flooded rivers, by others, within the last twenty years, we are surprised that the exercise of swimming horses, in the summer months, is not more generally resorted to. It was practised by the ancients; for we find Alexander swimming the Granicus with thirteen troops of horse. But the horses should be practised in swimming as well as their riders, or it would not avail the sportsman so much, as we know some horses are very much alarmed when they lose their legs in water, and often turn themselves over. That the act of swimming on horses is a most simple and safe one to those who practise it, may be proved at any of our watering places in the summer, where boys swim them out to sea, two at a time, changing their seats from one to another with the greatest ease. We observe they generally lean their body forwards, so that the water gets under it, and partly floats it, interfering as little as possible with the horse's mouth; at all events, never touching the curb rein. When the sportsman or the traveller has occasion, or is accidentally called upon, to swim his horse through deep water, and the banks will admit of it, he should enter it as gradually as possible, as not only will his horse be less alarmed at the loss of his footing, but less liable to turn himself over in it. Thus in fordling a brook too wide to leap, and with a soft bottom, a horse should be ridden very slowly into it, which will enable him to get his hinder legs well under his body before he makes his spring to ascend the opposite bank; which he cannot do if he enter the brook quickly.

As the young sportsman may be induced to "make his own horses," as the term is for qualifying them for the appellation of hunters, it may not be amiss to offer him a few words of advice. Be careful, the first season, how you ride them at very cramped places, especially where there is timber, for they cannot be expected to be on feet at such things; and many of the worst falls that some of our hard-riding sportsmen have experienced, have been from expecting young horses to do what old, or at least experienced ones, only can do. Avoid also taking the lead with hounds, especially if they run hard, with a young horse, for it may cause him to refuse a big fence which he might have followed another horse over, and thus become a refuser ever afterwards. Although horses do not understand languages, they understand the arbitrary signs of their masters or riders; and if a young hunter makes a slovenly mistake with you at a fence, he should be corrected with either spur or whip, and also by the voice. The merely calling out to him, or exclaiming, "For shame—what are you about, eh?" accompanied by a slight stroke of the whip, has often a very good effect, and will be visible at the next fence, when he will be more careful where he puts his feet, and take a greater spring. A horse knows his errors; also, when he is corrected, and when cherished, each of which he should be subject to in their turns; but as, according to the old adage, a coward and a madman are equally unfit to be horsemen, the correction of a young hunter should not be severe. Nothing would be more likely to make him what is called a "rushing;" and consequently an unsafe fencer for the rest of his life, than beating him severely, for any trifling faults he may commit in the field. Martingals on hunters are now generally condemned; but, in our opinion, more generally than they deserve to be, particularly during the first season of a young horse, as a long martingal serves to steady his head, if he is a little impetuous, and saves him many falls, which, putting his rider out of the question, are injurious to him, as all horses become large fencers, in a great measure, by having confidence in themselves, which falls must necessarily shake. All horses, indeed, whose necks are weak and loose, may be ridden with advantage by the aid of a martingal on the bridle rein, the rings coming quite up to their jaws, when it cannot interfere with their galloping or their leaping. We remember the time, indeed, when the first sportsmen and hardest riders of the day, were never seen without a long martingal, on horses whose heads were not quite in the right place, and be it remembered that nineteen out of twenty race-horses are ridden in martingals. Nevertheless we would avoid the use of them when not absolutely necessary, as the more liberty a hunter has, the more likely he is to recover himself when in difficulty.

The perfect command of a horse in the hunting field is in nothing more essential than in passing through half-opened gates, and many have been the bad accidents that have arisen from the want of it; horses being often stuck fast between the gate and the post, to the no small injury to their rider's legs or knees. Indeed the being handy in opening a gate, is no trifling accomplishment in a hunter; and here a few lessons in the school may be of advantage to him. He would there be taught to obey the leg as well as the hand; and, by a slight touch of the spur, would throw his hunches round to the left, on his rider unfastening the latch with his right hand, and thus enable him to throw the gate behind him, and pass through it. This has reference to gates that open towards the horseman; such as open from him, require not the horse's aid. But it often happens when a horse is blown, or beat, that unless he have a very good mouth, he will hang upon a gate, and nearly prevent his rider from opening it at all. One precaution, however, should always be taken with gates: the rider should never trust to catching the topmost bar, or what is called the head of the gate, but should pass his hand inside of it, when he will be certain to come in contact with some part of it.

Falls.—There is a proverb, and a true one, which says, "He that will venture nothing, must not get on horseback." All men, however, who ride a-hunting are subject to falls, but those who ride near to hounds, or "hard," as the term is, seldom escape without having several in the course of a season. It is well, then, that the young sportsman should know, that there is an art in falling, as well as in preventing falls. This consists in getting clear of the horse as soon as possible, which a man in the habit of falling has a better chance to do than one who runs less risk of it, having greater self-possession at the moment. Next to a horse coming neck and crop over a high timber fence, a fall in galloping at full speed is most dangerous, and apt to dislocate the neck, by the head coming first to the ground; and from the velocity of the fall, the rider has no time for precautions. However, even in this case he should endeavour to put out one hand, if not both, to break the force of the fall, as well as to act in resistance to his head coming first to the ground, and receiving the whole force of the concussion. By so doing, it is true, the collar-bone stands a great chance of being fractured; but that is an accident merely of temporary inconvenience, and unattended with danger, whereas a dislocated neck is very rarely reduced. But it is a curious fact, that there are fewer instances of broken necks in the field in the present age, than there were nearly a century ago, notwithstanding that for one man who rode a-hunting then, there are fifty now; and the pace of hounds, as well as style of riding, much altered as to speed. This has been accounted for in two ways: first, the modern sportsman sits, for the most part, down on his saddle, whereas the sportsman of olden times stood up in his stirrups, and, when his horse fell with him in his gallop, was nearly certain to fall on his head. Secondly, he did not ride the well-bred, superiorly-actioned horse that the modern sportsman rides, which would account for his falling oftener in his gallop, and particularly as the surface of the country, in his day, was very uneven and uncultivated compared to what it now is. Neither was the hunting cap of much service to him in accidents of this description. On the contrary, from its being so low in the crown, as it was then made, coming in immediate contact with the top of the head, the concussion was greater if he were thrown upon his head, than if it had been cased in a hat which, from the depth of it, would break the fall.

In all falls, the horseman should roll away from his horse as soon as he possibly can, lest in his struggle to rise again he strike him with his legs or head. It frequently happens that the horse himself rolls after he falls, and, if in the direction in which his rider lies, is apt to crush and injure him. Indeed, there is scarcely any hard rider who has not been thus served; but here again self-possession often stands his friend. When he sees the body of his horse approaching him, he frequently saves himself by meeting it with one of his feet, and, by obtaining a fulcrum, shoves his own body along the ground out of his reach. Coolness in this hour of peril, likewise serves the sportsman in another way. Instead of losing hold of his reins, and abandoning his horse to his own will, as the man who is flurried at this time invariably does, he keeps them in his hand, if not always, perhaps in nine falls out of ten, and thus secures his horse. It was the remark of a gentleman to whom we have before alluded, and who (singulare in arte) was, from his desperate system of riding, and despite of his fine horsemanship, known to have more falls than any other man during the time he hunted Leicestershire, that nothing had so low an appearance as that of a man running on foot over a field, calling out, "Stop my horse."

Before quitting this part of our subject, it may be well to observe, that in cases of bad falls, particularly those affecting the head, where the lancet cannot be immediately had recourse to, a large wine glassful of equal parts of strong vinegar and water, drunk by the sufferer, is found to be very efficacious, from the revulsive powers of the vinegar acting on the general circulation of the system. In countries where there is much timber to be leaped, stiles particularly, calkins to the shoes of the hinder feet of a hunter should never be omitted, as should those feet slip under his body, the fulcrum, to spring from, is lost, and a fall nearly certain.

We have only a few words more to offer to the young sportsman. Nature is invariably the standard of excellence, and unless she have endowed you with a cool head, a vigorous body, and a stout heart, you will not long distinguish yourself in the hunting field, as what is now termed "a first-flight horseman." You may sing with Hector,

"The foremost place I claim, The first in danger, as the first in fame;" Horseman—their horse, as they, with very few exceptions, rode with too short stirrups, and, consequently, by being not well placed in their seats, were perpetually interfering with their horses' mouths, from their unsteadiness. So fully aware of these objections was the late Mr Childe of Kinlett Hall, Shropshire, that, during the period of his keeping fox-hounds, he had only one servant in his large establishment that he ever suffered to mount the horses he himself rode, and that was William Barrow, afterwards more than twenty years huntsman to the late Mr Corbet in Warwickshire; and who was remarkable for his fine bridle-hand. Notwithstanding this, it may fairly be maintained, that, from the fact of the comparatively small number of good horsemen who have obtained instruction from the schools, there is more of nature than of art in the acquisition of skill and talent on the saddle.

Saddles and bridles form no unimportant feature in the equestrian art, as well as in the establishment of a sportsman. Nothing sets off the appearance of a horse and his rider more than a good saddle and bridle, nor does anything contribute more to the comfort and safety of the latter than a well-made, roomy saddle, with spring bars for the stirrup-leathers; stirrups rather heavy than otherwise, and sufficiently large for the feet. Some persons, not contented with the spring bars, require spring stirrups as well; but in our opinion, no man can hang in a common stirrup, provided he do not wear thick boots nor use small stirrup-irons. Of the various sorts of bridles, the snaffle is most in use on the turf; and the curb for military horses, hunters, roadsters, and coach-horses. Not one hunter in twenty has a mouth good enough for a snaffle only; although there are a few horses in every hunt that will not face the curb. Some, however, go very well on the snaffle up to a certain period of a run, when all at once they require the assistance of the curb. Such horses should be ridden with a double bridle, so that the rider may have recourse to the curb-bit, when wanting.

There is often great nicety required in fitting a horse with a bridle, if irritable in his temper, or a very hard puller. If the former, he must have a bit of just sufficient severity to control him, and not any thing more. The one called the "Pelham," is well adapted to horses of this description, as it partakes of the double proprieties of snaffle and curb. With very hard pulling horses, the curb to a severe bit must be used; but the evil of this is, that, after a certain time, the mouth, thus acted upon, becomes "dead," as the term is, and the horse is unpleasant to ride and difficult to turn. To remedy this, three players should be attached to the port of the bit, which, by hanging loosely over the tongue, keep the mouth alive. A bridle of this description, very long in the cheek, is known in the hunting world, as the "Clipper bit," being the one in which that celebrated horseman Mr Lindow rode a horse, called the Clipper, several years over Leicestershire, in which far-famed county he was supposed to be the best hunter going. If a horse rushes at his fences, a moderately tight nose-band is useful, as also to prevent his opening his mouth, and snatching at his rider's hand. The less a horse opens his mouth in his work the better, as it tends to make it dry; whereas, it cannot be too moist for his own good. Bits very high in the port are of course the most severe, owing to the increased purchase; but with every description of bits, care should be taken that they are sufficiently wide for the mouth, so as not to press against the horse's cheeks, and that the headstall is sufficiently long to let the bit drop well into the mouth.

As we read in the 22d chapter of Genesis, 3d verse, that "Abraham rose up early in the morning, and saddled his ass," saddles of some sort must have been used in very early days; but few things appear more extraordinary to those persons who look into ancient history, than the fact of saddles with stirrups being a comparatively modern invention. Although a French translator of Xenophon, by an oversight, makes a governor of Armenia hold the stirrup of the Persian king when he mounted his horse—"Il lui tenoit l'étrier lorsqu'il montoit à cheval."—it is well known that the ancients had no stirrups, but that men of rank among them were accompanied by a person whose office it was to lift them into the saddle, whom the Greeks called ἀναβάτης, and the Romans strator. There is no mention of stirrups in any Greek or Latin authors, no figure to be seen in any statue or monument, nor any word expressive of them to be met with in classical antiquity. In the celebrated equestrian statues of Trajan and Antoninus, the legs of the rider hang down without any support; whereas, had stirrups been used at that time, the artist would not have omitted them. Neither are they spoken of by Xenophon in his two books upon horsemanship, in which he gives directions for mounting; nor by Julius Pollux in his Lexicon, where all the other articles belonging to horse-furniture are spoken of. The Roman youth, indeed, were taught to vault into their saddles, (Aeneid xii. 287,) "Corpora salu Subjiciunt in eques"

and in their public ways, stones were erected, as in Greece also, for such as were incapable of doing so. As another substitute for stirrups, horses in some countries were taught to bend the knee, after the manner of beasts of burthen of the East; and in others, portable stools were used to assist persons in mounting. This gave birth to the barbarous practice of making captured princes and generals stoop down, that the conqueror might mount his horse from their backs; and in this ignominious manner was the Roman Emperor Valerian treated by the Persian King Sapor, who outraged humanity by his cruelty. The earliest indisputable mention of stirrups is by Eustathius (the commentator of Homer), about six hundred years back, who uses the word stabia.

Although the history of the saddle has not exercised the learned world so much as the antiquity of the stirrup, a good deal has been written and said about it. Like all other inventions, it appears to have been suggested by the necessity of making the rider sit easily upon his horse, and some kind of covering, consisting of cloth or leather (skins or hides, perhaps), was placed on the animal's back. These coverings, however, became afterwards extremely costly; they were made to hang down on each side of the horse, and were distinguished among the Greeks and Romans by various names. After they became common, however, it was esteemed more manly to ride without them; and thus we find Varro boasting of having ridden bare-backed when young. Xenophon also reproaches the Persians with having placed as much clothes under their seats, on their horses' backs, as they had on their beds. It is certain that no coverings to the horses' backs were for a long time used.

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1 D'Ablancourt. 2 See Silicus Ital., lib. 10. 465. 3 See Virgil, Aeneid vii. 276, viii. 552; Ovid, Metam. lib. viii. 33; also Livy, lib. xxxi. cap. 7, who speaks of a man who dressed his horse more elegantly than his wife.

woman's saddle, called by us the side-saddle, first appeared in Richard the Second's time, when his queen rode upon one; but from the pictures of men and women's saddles used in England's early days, we find they were miserable apologies for our modern saddles. Indeed, at the present time, Great Britain is the only country in which proper saddles are made. Hunting saddles should have their pannels well beaten and brushed to prevent sore backs; and no sportsman, even if light, should use a short saddle, under sixteen inches from pommel to cantle.

The antiquity of the spur does not appear to have much excited curiosity; but the use of this instrument was known in the very earliest age of which we have any satisfactory history. At least we may presume that it was so, from the Hebrew word signifying horseman (Porash), appearing to be derived from a Hebrew root signifying to prick or spur. So at least says Buxtorff; and he adds, that the horseman, or spurrier, was so called on this account: Eques quod equum calcariibus pungat; and he quotes Eben Ezra in confirmation of his opinion: A calcariibus quae sunt in pedibus ejus. Spurs occur but seldom on seals, or other antiques, in the eleventh century, but in the thirteenth they are more frequent. As it is necessary that a horse should obey the leg as well as the hand, all military and parade horses are ridden in spurs; and, as we have already said, they are very useful to the sportsman in riding across a country, particularly in the act of opening gates; also all race horses that will bear them are ridden with them because, should punishment be wanting in a race, it is more easily inflicted by the heel than by the hand; add to which, these horses not only require the jockey's two hands at the same time, but are apt to swerve, or shut up, if struck severely by the whip.

Race-Riding, or Jockeyship.—Race-riding and riding over a country cannot be called sister arts. Indeed the former bears little relation to any other system of horsemanship, because, from the rapidity with which the race-horse gets over the ground, there is neither time nor necessity for a display of the various aids which it is in the horseman's power to afford to his horse in most other cases. Nevertheless, the very refinement of the art, the nice and delicate hand, together with a firm and strong seat, is absolutely essential to a good jockey. Neither is this all. He must possess a stout heart and a clear head.

Something like jockeyship was practised in very early times, the Greeks having introduced it at their celebrated games. In the 33rd Olympiad they had their race of full-aged horses. In the 71st Olympiad they instituted that for mares called the Calpe, bearing a resemblance to our Oaks Stakes at Epsom; and an interesting anecdote is handed down to us, relating to this race. A mare, called Aura, the property of one Phidolas, a Corinthian, threw her jockey, but continued her course as if he had kept his seat, increasing her pace at the sound of the trumpet, and, finally, as the story goes, presenting herself before the judges, as if conscious of having won. The Eleants, however, declared her to be the winner, and allowed Phidolas to dedicate a statue to her. In the 131st Olympiad, the race of the παλαιοί, or under-aged horses, was established; but with respect to all these races, we are left in obscurity as to the weight the horses carried, as also the distance they ran; and whether or not such matters were regulated by their age, and not at all by their size. It is the general opinion that they were left to the discretion of the judges (the Helanodics, as they were called), who regulated all matters at Olympia, as the members of our Jockey Club do at Newmarket; but, as may be expected from the character of the times, exercising a power over their brother sportsmen, which would not be relished at the present day, although, in some respects, well worthy of imitation. For example, they not only excluded from the games and imposed fines upon Horsemen—such as were convicted of fraudulent or corrupt practices, but inflicted bodily correction upon them besides. But some very interesting facts are the result of the rigid scrutiny of this Elean Jockey Club. Alexander the Great was ambitious of obtaining the Olympic crown, but was objected to as being a Macedonian, the prize he wished to contend for being confined to Grecians. Alexander cleared himself by shewing, that although he was a prince of Macedon, he was descended from a family that came originally from Argos; and the Hellanodics allowed him to start, but he did not win. Themistocles objected to Hiero, King of Syracuse, as a tyrant, and proposed that the magnificent pavilion which contained his race-horses should be pulled down. The objection, however, was overruled, and he became a winner; but we do not wonder, that, in a Grecian assembly, the name of tyrant should have been abhorred.

The seat of the jockey is one of peculiar elegance, heightened by the almost universal symmetry of his form, or figure, for very few ill proportioned men are seen in the racing saddle. The good appearance of the jockey is also increased by the neat fit of his clothes; his appropriate costume to his calling; the extreme cleanliness of his person, produced by his necessary attention to it during his preparatory course of exercise; and, though last, not least, his almost affinity with the noble animal we see him mounted upon. But for this he is indebted to Nature—to the relation that the bodies of animals hold to natures altogether external to their own; and it is most happily exemplified in that of a man to his horse, which appear to have been especially formed for each other. But, as a celebrated moral philosopher has observed, “There is throughout the universe a wonderful proportioning of one thing to another. The size of animals, of the human animal especially, when considered with respect to other animals, or to the plants which grow around him, is such, as a regard to his convenience would have pointed out. A giant or a pigmy could not have rode a horse, trained a vine, or mowed grass; could not have rode a horse, trained a vine, or mowed grass; could not have rode a horse, trained a vine, or mowed grass; could not have rode a horse, trained a vine, or mowed grass.”

Previously to describing the proper seat of the jockey, we will now endeavour to exhibit him in the most likely form to acquire that seat. In height he should be about five feet five or six inches. We are aware there are several excellent jockeys under this standard; but they do not look so well on their horses, neither can they be so firm in their seat from want of a better clip, which the firm grasp of a longer thigh gives them. He should be rather long in the fork for his height, with low shoulders, rather long arms, moderate length of neck, small head, and a very quick eye. He should be of a naturally spare habit, to save the expense to his constitution by wasting; but he should have as much muscle in his arms and thighs, as his diminutive form will admit of; in short, to ride some horses at such very light weights, he should be a little Hercules. But there must be nothing like rigidity in his frame. On the contrary, there should be a great degree of pliability about his arms, shoulders, and back-bone, to enable him to be in perfect unison with his horse. He should have very free use of his hands, so as to change his reins from one to the other in a race, and to whip with the left, as well as with the right, when occasion requires it; he should possess much command of temper; and, lastly, he should have the abstinence of a Brahmin.

The seat of the jockey may be described in a few words. He should sit well down in his saddle when he walks his horse to the post, with his stirrups of moderate length, so as to enable him to clear his pummel, and have a good resisting power over his horse. No man can make the most of a race-horse with long stirrup leathers, because, when he is going at the top of his speed, he sinks down in his fore-quarters, in his stride, to the extent of several inches. It was calculated that Eclipse, naturally a low fore-quartered horse, sank nearly eight inches. The circumstance, then, of the use of the stirrup, in ancient racing, being unknown, fully accounts for racing on horseback as we now race, being, comparatively with chariot-racing, but little resorted to; and the excellency of a jockey in the Olympic Hippodrome, consisting more in a sort of harlequin feat of jumping from one horse, and vaulting upon another, in a race, than riding and finishing it, as it is now finished, in a severe trial of speed, bottom, and jockeyship. Indeed, some racers go with their heads so low as to bear up their rider from the saddle whether he will or not, and they would pull him over their heads, if he had not the power of resistance from his stirrups. Much nonsense was written by the late Samuel Chiffney, in a pamphlet called Genius Genuine, on riding the race-horse with a slack rein, which system, although we by no means approve of a hard, dead hand upon any horse, we are convinced can never be put into practice with advantage to either the horse or his rider. Exclusive of the necessity of restraining a free horse, who would run himself to a stand-still if suffered to do so, or, in making what is called a waiting race, all race-horses feel themselves relieved by a strong pull at their heads, and many will nearly stop, or, at all events, very much slacken their pace, on finding their heads loose. In our opinion, the hand of a jockey on his horse should always be firm, though at times delicate to an extreme; and he should never surprise or disturb the mouth of his horse, in his race, by any sudden transition from a slack to a tight, or from a tight to a slack rein. In fact, every thing in horsemanship is best done by degrees, but at the same time with a firmness and resolution which a horse well understands; and the hand which, by giving and taking, as the term is, gains its point with the least force, is the best and most serviceable, as well as most agreeable to a horse.

Considering the variety of horses of all forms, shapes, and tempers, that a jockey in much repute rides in the course of a year, the necessity for a good bridle-hand is obvious. Some thorough-bred ones have their necks set so low on their shoulders, that they bend first down, then upwards, like a stag’s; and were it not for the power of their rider, such horses would absolutely look him in the face. Others have the upper line of their necks, from the ears to the withers, too short. A head attached to such a neck as this is very difficult to bring into a good place, because the inflexibility of it will not admit of its forming an arch; for in long and short-necked horses the number of the vertebrae, or neck-bones, are the same. On the other hand, some horses’ necks are as loose as if they had joints in them, and consequently have the power of tossing up their nose almost in defiance of their rider’s hand. Others get their heads down in their gallop, in the act of reaching to get more liberty of rein, snatching at their rider’s hand with great force. Some pull very hard; and others will not pull enough. Were it not, then, for the tackle in which these low-necked, short-necked, stiff-necked, loose-necked, snatching, pulling horses are ridden in, even the fine hand and firm seat of a first-rate jockey would not be a match for them; and, as it is, it is as much as he can do to manage them; but they would be nearly their own masters with a man on their back who had neither one nor the other. This tackle consists, in addition to the bridle, of the common martingal, with a spare martingal rein, independent of that to the snaffle-bit; a gag-bit and rein, and the martingal running-rein. The first, the common martingal-rein, is merely to prevent a loose-necked horse throwing his head up. The jockey uses it altogether, or lets it lie on his horse’s neck till he wants it. The gag-rein, from its severity, is generally knotted, and remains untouched till wanted. Its use is to prevent a horse getting his head... down, when he goes too much on his shoulders, or bores, and is consequently very difficult to ride, and be made the most of in a race. By gradually giving and taking with this and the snaffle-rein, the jockey gets his horse's head into a proper place, and rides comparatively at his ease. We say "gradually," because if done with violence it may cause him to alter his stride. The running martingal-rein (the most common now in use, particularly with young things), is merely to steady a horse's head, and to give his jockey more power over him to prevent his breaking away with him in a race, and to enable him to pull him up at the end of it. No hard puller, or very free-going racer, is ridden without this running martingal-rein. The jockey uses it much in the same way as he uses the snaffle-rein, giving and taking with it in his pulls, so as to keep his horse's mouth alive, and thereby bring his head into a proper place. The necessity for this perfect command of the race-horse, by some one of these means, is obvious, when we see how often they are huddled together in a race, and knowing that, if a foot of either of them should strike or get locked in that of another, a fall is the inevitable consequence. Besides, no horse can exert his utmost speed for any length of time, unless he will allow himself to be handled by his rider, and pulled well together, to prevent his over-striding as well as over-pacing himself. These check-reins can all be used with the double curb-bridle, if necessary, though they seldom are, with the exception of the first, the common martingal-rein. It is pleasant to see a race-horse go with his head in a good place in a simple snaffle-bridle, without any additional reins; and no doubt it must be as agreeable to the horse; but it is rather a rare sight, and particularly with young things. That the snaffle-bit is the best in which the race-horse can be ridden, there cannot be a doubt, not merely on account of his being able to support himself to a certain degree in his gallop, by leaning upon it to the extent his rider permits him, but because his jockey can pull his head any way he likes, to the right or to the left; as in a turn, for instance, or to avoid treading on another horse's heels, which is before him; whereas the curb-bit only acts in a straight line. It is better, however, to have recourse to the curb, than to let a hard-pulling race-horse get the better of his jockey, and overpace himself at any period of his race.

We will now bring our jockey to the starting post, where the first thing he does is to strip. Having inspected the saddling of his horse, and found every thing about him secure, he cocks up his left-leg, and is chucked into his saddle by the trainer, who generally wishes him "luck" as he performs this office for him. After he has seated himself firmly down in it, and tried the length of his stirrup-leathers, he takes his "up gallop," as he calls it, of perhaps half-a-mile, his trainer generally leading the way on his back; and then walks his horse quietly to the starting post. But his method of starting his horse depends entirely on circumstances. If, for a half-mile race, in which a good start is a great advantage, he catches fast hold of his horse's head, and, if he will not start quickly without, sticks both spurs into his sides as soon as the word "go" is given, taking his chance of getting his head down into its place when and how he can. If, for a two-mile race, or over that distance, he need not be in such a hurry at starting, provided he do not lose too much ground; but all this must in great measure be regulated by his orders, whether to make running or to lie by, and wait. We will, however, put him in all these different situations.

The Half-mile Race, generally straight. Orders, "To make running." Having turned his horse round beyond, or we should rather say behind, the post, he brings him as quietly as he can back to it, with his near-side bridle-rein passing outside of, and over the lower part of, the palm of the left hand, and then pressed firmly by the thumb, and with the off-side rein between the middle and third fingers of the right hand, in which he also has his whip; but, at starting, and throughout a race, unless obliged to strike his horse, a jockey always holds his horse's head with both hands. If a double rein to a curb-bit is used, the near-side rein passes between middle and third fingers of the left hand, and the off-side one between the middle and third fingers of the right hand. On the word being given, as we have already said, he sticks the spurs into his horse's sides, or, by any other means in his power, gets him on his legs, that is, on his speed, as soon as he possibly can, dropping his hand to him to enable him to feel his mouth. He lets him go perhaps half the distance he has to run with only his head hard held, before he gives him his first pull; but this event (the half-mile race) being soon over, there is no time for much speculation, and the pull must be but a short one. He then runs up to his horses again; lives with them to the end and wins, if he can, without a second pull; but if he finds other horses too near to be pleasant, or, in other words, appearing to be as good as his own, he takes a second pull within the last one or two hundred yards, when he again lets loose and wins. The same directions hold good in a mile race, with the exception that the jockey need not be quite so much on the qui vive at starting, and his pulls may be longer, and the last further from home.

The Half-mile Race. Orders, "To wait." In this case the jockey gets well away with his horses, but never more than a length or two behind any of them, as more than that distance is difficult to make up in so short a race. Within a hundred and fifty, or, perhaps, two hundred yards of home, he gets "head and girth," as the term is, with the leading horse, and then lets loose and wins.

The Mile Race. Orders, "To wait." The jockey may start last of all if he like, but he must not lose much ground. However good judge a jockey may be of pace, it is a fault to lie far out of his ground. Let him then also lie well with his horses all the way, creeping up to them by degrees, and not quit them to win till he feels certain he has the race in his hand; that is, till he sees that the other horses have overmarked themselves by the pace. His orders to wait have been given him from the supposition or knowledge that speed, not stoutness, was the best of his horse, and, consequently, that if he had made the running or "play," he would not have run home.

The Two-mile Race. Orders, "To make running." Nothing, next to the struggle of the few last yards between two horses very nearly equal, called on the Turf "the set-to," is so difficult in racing horsemanship, as making running or "play" by a jockey, solely for the benefit of the horse he himself is riding. In other words, it is a great accomplishment in a jockey to be a superior judge of pace, that is, of not merely the pace he himself is going, but how that pace affects the other horses in the race. And this task is more difficult with some horses than with others, and especially with idle or lurching horses, which, when leading, require urging by the hand or leg every yard they go. In this case, the jockey works hard to keep his horse going. He has to use his hands, arms, legs, and feet, and occasionally to turn his head round, with all his limbs in action at one and the same moment, and yet not disturb his horse's action; and this, in addition to great anxiety of mind, lest he should upset his horse, and so lose the race. The upshot is, if his horse answers the opinion entertained of him, by cutting up his competitors by severe "play," he wins his race, and has the character of being a stout, honest horse.

The Two-mile Race. Orders, "To wait." In this case the jockey goes off at a steady pace, with a good hold of his horse's head, as near to the other horses as he likes, but not attempting to go in front. Thus he continues in his place to within a certain distance from home, probably specified in his orders, when he brings out his horse, as the phrase is, challenges all the others at once, and wins, if his horse be good enough. This is one of the easiest tasks a jockey has to perform, and if he is pleasantly mounted, he gets an agreeable ride. We shall say little of races more than two miles, for two reasons: First, because the same observations apply to them as do to those of two miles, with proper allowance for the extra distance; and, secondly, because four mile races are now very nearly abolished. In the latter, the chief qualification for a jockey is strength of constitution, and a firm seat, added to a very correct idea of pace, for a four-mile race seldom comes to a very nice point at the finish.

The duty of a jockey is to win his race if he can, and not to do more than win it. A neck is sufficient if he have the race-hand; but he should win by a clear length whenever he is in doubt as to the state of the horses he is running against. This is a nice point for a jockey to decide upon, and one which is highly esteemed by his employers, who are always anxious that the powers of their horses should not be unnecessarily exposed. Perhaps one of the finest specimens of science in this peculiar department of the art of horsemanship, was displayed by those celebrated Newmarket jockeys, Robinson and Chiffney, in a struggle for the St Leger stakes at Doncaster in 1827.

All good jockeys avoid the use of the whip as much as possible. When a race-horse is in the fullest exercise of his powers and doing his best, it is unnecessary, for it cannot make him do more; but the blow of a whip often does harm, particularly if it fall under the flank. Instead of its having the effect of making the horse extend himself over a larger surface of ground, it may have quite a contrary effect, from his shutting himself up, as it were, or shrinking, to avoid the blows. The spur, properly used, is a much better instrument for increasing the speed of a horse, although there are times when the application of the whip, or the mere act of flourishing it in the hand, is eminently serviceable to the jockey. We mean when his horse hangs to one side of the course or the other, or towards other horses in the race, or exhibits symptoms of running out of the course, or bolting. A jockey ought to be able to use his whip with vigour when necessary, and (though this do not often happen) with his left hand, as well as with his right, in case of his losing what is called the whip-hand, when he cannot use his right.

The nature and form of race-courses are points very much to be considered in jockeyship. Such as are quite flat and straight are, of course, the least difficult to ride over; but a little variety of ground is favourable to the horse, and not unpleasant to the jockey. Those which are hilly require much judgment to know where to make the best play; or, in other words, what part of the ground is best suited to the action and nature of the horse. All horses, however, require holding hard by the head both up and down hills, or they will soon run themselves to a standstill. A small ascent is desirable to finish a race upon, as it is safer for the riders, who occasionally lose their horses' heads in the last few strides; and also in pulling them up, when they are often in an exhausted state, and, consequently, liable to fall or slip, on uneven ground, especially if it be in a slippery state from drought or wet. Most country courses have turns in them, which must be provided against in two ways. First, the jockey, at starting, should endeavour to get the whip-hand of his competitors; that is, he should try to be on the right side of the other horses, if the posts are on his right hand; and on the left side of them, if they are on the left. He will, of course, in this case have to describe a smaller circle of ground in his race than the other horses will have, and also, if the turns be on his right, the use of his right or whip-hand, at any period of the race; which he would not have, if he were on the outside of one or more horses in the race. But he must be wide awake over a course with turns in it, as some of them are very difficult to make, especially if all the horses are in strong running at the time, and the one he is riding should not be what is called kind at his turns, or an easy horse to ride. He must not omit the precaution of lying a little out of his ground before he comes to a turn, so as to make it pretty close to the post, when he will be less likely to disturb the action of his horse, than if he made it at a more acute angle, which he would necessarily do, if he did not take this sweep. Another precaution is also necessary; as, when a horse is galloping in a circle, the first leg towards the centre takes the lead, the jockey should endeavour to make his horse lead with the leg next the turn, which will prevent his changing his leading leg in the turn, which he will be obliged to do, unless a very easy one indeed. This is best effected by keeping his head a little to the opposite side of his body; that is, a little to the left hand, if the posts are to the right, as they generally are, and vice versa. When a race-horse is extended at the very top of his speed, his head should, of course, be kept straight; but as he is never going his best pace in his turns, the keeping of his head away from them, for the purpose we have noticed, cannot be at all injurious to him. In quite straight running, it is, we believe, of very little consequence with which leg the race-horse leads.

Our remarks on the art of race-riding may be concluded by stating the manner in which horses of various tempers, dispositions, and capabilities, are to be ridden, with the best chance of being made the most of. Nine racers in ten are free-going ones, if not hard pullers. On one of this description, the great art of the jockey is to economize his powers according to the length he has to go, as also the weight he is carrying, so as not to let him over-mark himself, and have little or nothing left in him at the finish. If other horses make running, this can only be done by his sitting perfectly still in his seat, dropping his hands, and having fast hold of his horse's head. The less he interferes with his mouth the better; and if he likes to be well up with the other horses, he is better there, supposing him not to be a regular jade, than pulled at, to be kept back. Temper is a great thing in this case, we mean in the jockey; for a hasty horse and a hasty rider are sure to disgrace themselves. Every unnecessary movement in the one is instantly responded to by the other, who becomes flurried, and pulls more determinedly than he did before.

The lazy, sluggish, or "craving" horse, as trainers call him, requires riding from end to end of his race. By this we mean, that although the body of his jockey should not move, he is often obliged to raise his hands off his horse's withers, to shake him now and then; as well as to use his feet to urge him to a better pace, or even to keep him at the one he is going. Indeed, he will sometimes require a blow with the whip, or at least to be very much roused, to make him extend his stride towards the finish of his race. This is the sort of horse that used to distinguish himself over the Beacon Course at Newmarket, when four-mile races were more in fashion than they now are, and was, of course, not thought the worse of by his owner, whatever he may have been by his jockey, for taking so much riding to make him do his best.

But the most ticklish and difficult horse, next to the determined restive one, or bolter, is what is known by the appellation of the "Flighty Horse," one which is as difficult to train as he is to ride, being delicate in constitution, of extremely irritable temper, and very easily alarmed, either in his stable or out of it. Nothing, in short, can be done with him, but by the very gentlest means; for if once ruffled, he is very hard to be appeased. The jockey, then, that has to ride a horse of this description, should have a Qualifications for a Steeple-Chase Rider.—These are Horsemen exactly what are wanting in a very fast run over a stiffly enclosed country with fox-hounds; namely, a fine bridle-hand, a steady seat, a cool head, undaunted courage, and, above all things, great quickness, and very prompt decision.

But the steeple-chase jockey has one evil to guard against, which the racing jockey is, comparatively, but little subject to, and this is a fall. The best preventive of it is keeping a horse well together, and making him go in a collected form at his fences, as well as over rough ground, which, when going nearly at the top of his pace, will be only done by a rider with a very good bridle-hand. But, at the same time, he must be careful not to overmark his horse, or he will not be able to rise at his fences when he gets to them. And here lies the great difficulty after all, as far as the horse is concerned. He must go, at least he is called upon to go, at a much quicker rate than he can reasonably be expected to maintain, for any considerable length of time, without becoming distressed, because his competitors in the race are also doing so, and he will be left behind, to a certainty, if his rider do not endeavour to make him keep with them. That horse, then, has the best chance to win who, barring a fall, is the stoutest runner and surest fencer, and whose rider is good enough, and strong enough, to give him all the assistance he requires, at least as much as a rider can give him, to enable him to struggle through his difficulties to the end. But there is one quality in a horse, especially calculated for steeple-chase racing, and that is quickness. Our readers can distinguish between a quick horse and a fast horse; the fast horse may require to be going some time before he begins to extend himself nearly to the extent of his speed; whereas the quick horse is on his legs in a few hundred yards. A similar difference is observed by sportsmen in the fencing of horses. Some are on their legs again, and almost instantly away, as soon as they alight on the ground, be the fence ever so large, whilst others dwell for some time after landing, previously to their recovering their equilibrium, and so lose time. It is evident, then, that a quick horse, with a quick man on his back, is best adapted to a steeple-chase; and would beat another, supposing leaping and other qualifications, this excepted, to be equal, who could give him half a stone weight over the Beacon Course, and beat him. Steeple-chase racing never can be a game to bet money upon, from the almost perpetual liability to accidents; nor do we think it fair that such animal suffering as we find it creating, can be considered a proper medium for that purpose, allowing for a moment that such a medium must be found. But has man, who may be considered the delegate of Heaven over inferior creatures, the right thus to speculate upon their endurance of suffering? We think not; but of this fact we are certain, There is hardly a more certain token of a cruel disposition than the unnecessary abuse of animals which contribute, as the horse specially does, to our advantage, convenience, and pleasures; and even a Pagan has told us that he who smothers a cock, without necessity, is no less guilty than the man who smothers his father.

Neither is it a great compliment to this species of horsemanship to show its origin, which is thus given in a work called The Gentleman's Recreation, written nearly two hundred years back: "But before I enter upon the subject proposed," (training of horses) says the author, "I think it convenient to tell you the way our ancestors had of making their matches, and our modern way of deciding wagers; first, then, the old way of trial was, by running so many train scents after hounds, this being found not so uncertain and more durable than hare-hunting; and the advantage consisted in having the trains laid on earth most suitable to the nature of the horses. Now others choose to hunt the hare till such an hour prefixed, and then to run the wild-goose chase, which, because it is not known to all hunts-