Thursday, June 4th.

"The evaporation of a joyous day

Is like the last glass of champagne, without
The foam which made its virgin bumper gay;
Or like a system coupled with a doubt;
Or like a soda-bottle, when its spray

Has sparkled, and let half its spirit out;
Or like a billow, left by storms behind,
Without the animation of the wind."

If this be true, (and who shall gainsay it?) then, of a verity, this, our Thursday, was not born to good luck; and like all in a similar predicament, it was left to take care of itself. The attendance was infinitely below average, and the sport " in a concatenation accordingly." Barabbas won the Sutton Stakes, thereby repaying £60 of the £200 laid out in the investment of Tuesday; and the Cup Stakes, a miserable affair, ended in a walk over. There were three more races, cheap and nasty, five-pound affairs, with forty added-and, taking into regard the dust and discomfort attaching to the visit, if everybody on the Downs had been rewarded with a like "bonus," they would not have been too well paid.

Friday, June 5th. THE OAKS DAY. In all that related to its festive character, this anniversary was superior to most I can call to mind; in a racing point of view, nothing could be more weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable" to the industrious classes. The vast superiority of Crucifix, both at two and three-years old, made the race safe, if she " stood;" and it was pretty well known that she was "right as a trivet" on this eventful morning. Betting 3 to 1 on one against a field of a dozen, looked like buying gold too dear; and, save what had been put on, and, of course, was not to be got off, little business was done. H. R. H. the Duke of Sussex, accompanied by the Duchess of Inverness honoured the course with his presence, and all the élite of the sporting world were in attendance. Before we go into the details of the immediate sport of the day, it may be permitted me to allude to matter connected with it. In a conversation I lately had with Mr. Tattersall, he informed me that, at the annual sale of the Underley stud, he had disposed of Little Wonder to Mr. Robertson for sixtyfive guineas; now Crucifix and her dam stood my Lord George Bentinck in a sum of fifty-two guineas; so that, valuing the filly at half the cost of the lot, thus stands the debits, as against the winners of Derby and Oaks, for the present year :—

Now, what might the odds be against a colt and filly, that should win these two races in one season, being purchased for less than £100? Everything proceeded in the usual orderly course; the jocks were weighed out, and, at about a quarter past two, the saddling for the Oaks commenced. The ladies certainly" stripped" in a far more imposing form than the gentlemen had done forty-eight hours before. There were some splendid looking creatures among them, and

one, Mr. Greatrex's Pocahontas, looked fit to carry fifteen stone to foxhounds, and moved with all the flippant action of an accomplished road hackney. Black Bess was, no question, "all wrong;" and it was not till after a preparatory canter that John Day was perfectly sure his mare had no screw loose. As he pulled up he patted her on the neck, and said to William Edwards, who was near, with a look that could not be mistaken, "It's all right." A vast number of false starts, principally caused by the favourite, postponed the moment of hope and fear; and when the "go" was said, John Day was the worst off of the lot. Welfare, Teleta, and Lallah Rookh composed the front rank; the others, in very fair places, with, as I have said, the crack for boots." Up the hill, however, she passed them, one after another, in steady succession; and, at the furze, was in front, mending the pace. This had the effect of sending back Lallah Rookh; the Irish mare, Welfare (Col. Westenra's), running up second to Crucifix. Almost in these places they made the turn at Tattenham Corner, Teleta being a good third, and Welfare pressing John Day, who here took a reconnoitring glance, which did not seem perfectly satisfactory. Pocahontas, down the fall, had mended her place; but, with the exception of the three first, there was nothing in the race; and these, as they crossed the road, were running almost abreast, Crucifix being "bodkin." From this point to the chair it was a race every inch, and the slightest failure on part of the flyer had given Welfare the victory. From the Stand home, John Day was at his mare; and, although she certainly never tasted whalebone, the steel had entered into her sides. She won by half a length; Teleta an excellent third; Pocahontas a good fourth; and then came the "scabies;" among which was Black Bess, sadly beaten off. La Femme Sage fell very early, but, without doing much mischief to herself or Hesseltine, who came to the weighinghouse soon after the race was over. One observation brings me to the end of these details. The Oaks was run from end to end just to suit the winner. There was very little pace till they were well landed on the hill, where she was in front beyond all chance of disappointment; and the run home, down the slant, was made for her great turn of speed. No doubt she is a magnificent animal for modern distances; but, should she ever come to run three miles as she can half that length, I shall never again put faith in shape or style of action.

The remaining events call for no especial notice; the usual outline given in the Turf Register supplying all that need be known of Fiftypound Plates, and Chicken Handicaps. The meeting was a first-rate one, as regarded the two great days, and beyond these expectation does not extend. Is it unreasonable to speculate that the Royal visit to Epsom will henceforth be an annual one? I hope not;-that it will militate against the interest of Ascot, I, for one, cannot believe. The enthusiasm created by the appearance of Her Gracious Majesty and her illustrious Consort, among her devoted people, is a feeling that most assuredly "grows by what it feeds on."

16

CHARACTERISTICS OF IRISH STEEPLE-CHASING.

BY SHAMROCK.

LEAVE We the nobler beast, and turn to the fouler animal man: I think it is Monk Lewis who remarks,

"There's mercy both for bird and beast, in God's potential plan,
There's mercy for each creeping thing, but man has none for man

and I would as soon trust a helpless babe to the tender mercies of a hungry hyæna, as place a young gentleman of any property in the society of steeple-chasers in general. They should be classed with the centaurs; rank, in feeling and intellect, with the butchers; and, if we could incorporate the centaur, the butcher, and the assassin together, the steeple-chase rider would justly claim a seat in their assembly.

It was upon a beautiful evening in the month of April, 183-, that, from the top of a high hill, and the box-seat of the mail, the little town of Fy first burst upon my sight: little did the peacefulness of the scenery shew the volcano of raging spirits and demoniac passions which roared within its dwellings. The landscape was in that state of slumbering repose which nature sometimes assumes on the close of a spring day; even the busy hum of man, which came on the gentle air from its streets, settled on the car almost unconsciously; the river crept along its banks with a stealthy murmur, and, far as the eye could wander, appeared to be undisturbed by fall or rock, until it slowly entered into the magnificent woods of, where the dark-green hue of the foliage, resting upon its surface, made it appear a cavern deep "'midst solitary dell." Over the town was to be seen the mountain of last refuge of the Roches, lords of the soil, ere "bigot power subdued our hapless land." The town itself looked prettily in the distance, with its Protestant spire and its Catholic cross (reared amidst many crosses), and its square looked business-like; the entré, over the bridge, was handsome; and the broad river, flowing under its arches gave a finish to the scene. The hotel was a very large building; but, as you looked around, it became apparent that there had been better times; the aspiring walls of some unfinished buildings shewed that the spoiler had also been among them, and that the architect of palaces, and the destroyer of the humble cottage-artificial credit, had been epidemical there also. I entered the common room (and no cell that I have ever heard of, better deserved the denomination of common than it did), and found but one occupant; and, having ordered my dinner, I turned to look at the person, who was seated over some papers, at a table opposite to me. I never saw a more benevolent countenance: he was busily engaged in writing, and ever and anon turned up his face to the ceiling with a thoughtful look; and, having then referred to a printed newspaper, renewed his writing. As he looked up, the April sun shone cheerily upon his bald head and sunny cheek (for the bloom of health was as fresh there as if but twenty winters had touched its

tint); a few grey locks (those blossoms of the grave) hung from each side, and were carefully combed downwards, leaving the broad front to shew itself in shining cleanliness. The nose, though short, was aquiline; the mouth small, and beautifully cut; the chin, although not double, yet full. The eye was a calm and meditative one, of a deep blue; and, although the whole appearance shewed health without intemperance, yet there was a social twinkle about his eye, that looked as if he did not disdain the festive board. His dress was plain; and there was no pretence in his air; the blue coat and buff waistcoat might belong to a general officer, or to a professional gentleman; it was fitted for a minister of state, or an active agent for the mission to the Jews,-and the latter I at once decided him to be. In the meantime he finished his letter, and, ringing the bell, in a quiet tone, and with a northern accent, ordered it to be forthwith sent to the office; and, taking up his newspaper, his attention became absorbed in its contents. I had remarked, that he threw upon me but one shrewd and piercing glance, and, like the professed man of the world, having, in a second. "taken the weight of me," gave my being located with him no further consideration. My dinner came; and, as the door opened for its admission, I was much amused by hearing a loud voice (with that peculiar Dublin brogue which, created in the fish-market in Pill-lane, finds vent from the mouths of "de boys upon de quay," haberdashers' apprentices, attorneys' clerks, stable-keepers, waiters, &c.) say to the waiter, who was bringing it, "Who the h-1 is getting dinner at this hour, you scoundrel?. -some English traveller, or a buttonmanufacturer, I suppose: order in my breakfast." The moment the voice was heard, the countenance of the old gentleman changed; the brow became clouded; the eye again assumed a wary cast; it was only for a moment; and, as the stranger entered, he rose up to meet him, with much grace, and a most kindly expression. The entrance was effected in something between the strut of "Bombastes Furioso" and the swagger of the " Copper Captain." He was a stout man, apparently about thirty years of age, decidedly handsome, of rather a fresh complexion, with light hair and sandy-coloured whiskers; dressed like a shop-boy, who had robbed his master's till: there was a certain cast of manner about him which at once proved that he was of very caste, if, indeed, he had any claims to caste at all. He seized the old man's hand, who said, "My dear boy, my kind C-, how or' ye, sur?"

low

"Never was in greater blow," quoth the dasher; "how is all at the short grass ?"

"Ye know, my deer," said the old man, "I'm feerly ruined by the cattle, the reece-hosses, my deer; and aum thenkin' of givin' them up altogether, aund teeking to the sheep, my deer; and leeveing the rest of my life in peece and love, my deer; and just going to my grave, followed by all the county, my child; and just dying with the regard of all my fellow-creatures, my deer; that they may all say, Here lies honest of the short grass, who neever injured maun, womaun, or child, my deer; no, nor reece-horse, my friend,— nor reece-horse, nor reece-horse and I'll give them all up, and then Jessy will be fond of me and all will go right and square at the short grass, my deer: and now I'll just sell you the wee horse, my

VOL. IV.

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