the presence of such beggars of spirit as soar above asking an alms. Your "leg" begins business without any capital-the genteel way of speaking of beggary. This is not said offensively; indeed, just the reverse, for whenever my friend Leatherlungs alludes to his opening shop, he thrusts his arms up to the shoulders in the pockets of his unspeakables, and, smiling in suchwise as the Saracen's Head on Snow Hill might be supposed to do, under the influence of the cholic, informs you he did it "with four-penn'orth of winkles that he got upon tick." Of course I don't mean to convey that the ring is all "legs;" but they constitute its principal members; and thus, this people having gone forth to seek some spot of shelter and supply, find them in the centre of a land flowing with milk and honey, where the only thing they have to do to eat, drink, and be merry, is to help themselves.

The conditions of horse-racing, as regards its fundamental arrangements, are precisely such as they were three-quarters of a century ago. In '76 there were six nominations in the St. Leger; for '46 there are one hundred and fifty-three: the same system of management being applied to both. In '76, it is more than probable, somebody knew something of the animals engaged; in '46, it would probably discomfit the bench and the bar of the United Kingdom to identify one whose birth, parentage, and education it might be convenient to surround with obscurity. Last year Westminster Hall was for days in labour before it brought forth the real Running Rein; and able as the Solicitor-General proved himself at obstetrics, it might have been a still more difficult case had not the patient-that is, the defendant-ministered to himself, and thus saved the Court of Exchequer any further pains.

Thus anarchial and anomalous is the state of that government under which we find our two nations of the turf living. One wishes its policy were in a more healthy category; one naturally prefers order to confusion of any kind; but it was scarcely with a designcertainly not with a hope to reform it-that these things were set down; but simply to account for the existence here and elsewhere of such personages as those from whose class I have selected my hero. I cannot doubt-for "time works wonders," we are told by the dramatist and our own experience-I say I cannot doubt but that the day will come when this biography, trifling and perchance unworthy as it may now appear, will be referred to with some curiosity, some morbid relish, for the story of a race of citizens of so remark. able a sort as the legs of the nineteenth century. "Use lessens marvel," Scott assures us; and for this cause we--at least some of us— mingle continually with a species which posterity shall regard as apocryphal, without wonder-many with complacency. At all events, they are a race full of character: one don't pledge oneself to its precise description. The most consummate courtier, suppled by half a century's etiquette, never possessed more exquisite exemption from mauvaise honte than a shoe-boy, a foot-boy, or a pot-boy, after a season's run of the ring. And who shall wonder at it? Once admitted as a recognized member of that magic circle, and his droits de seigneur are without limit and beyond question. He is no longer

amenable to the social code: he has a perpetual amnesty from the operation of the laws of honour. Has he transgressed every obligation, save that which the legislature holds unworthy of protection and countenance? not the less is his place in the ring assigned him, with all its perquisites and privileges of free community. Has his nose been tweeked, his hereditary seat of honour discourteously bumped and battered, with free impunity? Behold with what Christian approbation that knight of the garter bids him a good day! that gallant soldier of a thousand fights greets him with the familiarity of his converse sweet! Had the fraternity existed in his day, they would have furnished Ovid with a climax for his "Sic vos non vobis"....

"When man exclaims See all things for my use!'

'See man for mine!' Pope says, 'replies the goose :'
But had he known the ring, no doubt the peg

To hang his moral on had been the 'leg.'

I had been reading Goldsmith, from whose ever-delightful pages the prose motto of my chapter is taken, all the morning, and it was late when I sat down to throw together such subjects as should suggest themselves, whereof to construct it. My theme took its colouring from my thesis: the spirit of my reflection at least may claim kindred with that in which the passage I have quoted was written.

Will this allegory of Guilt and Shame, I mused, be ever completed as regards the two nations of our racing world? Surely they are as ill-associated as the wayfaring companions of the moralist's imagination. Guilt stands the emblem of gambling and betting, and all such loose life: Shame is the impersonation of that which those of gentle blood shall be when they come to a true knowledge of the dirty ways through which their unmeet fellowship is leading them. Yes! the unseemly partnership must soon end: apart from all considerations of state and station, it must end, for the Gentlemen will soon be taught how much the worst of the game they have against the Players ....I had got thus far with my meditations, when I heard strong remonstrances growled out by my tiger, who was assuring some one on his honour-and proffered his affidavit-that I hadn't been in the house since breakfast.

"It don't matter," shouted the applicant for admission: "then I'll wait till he comes, if it's till Christmas."

So saying, Leatherlungs opened the door of my sanctum, and walked in. There he stood like Guilt who had overtaken Fate: there I sate, a good deal resembling Shame (for no one likes to be caught out at not being at home) who, at all events, had been making a pretty considerable stern-chase after Virtue: not without hopes of being alongside some time or other.

"I've been nailed," cried the Leg, with a dreadful grumble: "done as brown as gingerbread-chiselled of two thousand pounds, by --" "By whom?" I asked, interrupting the course of his narrative apparently; but, in fact, desirous of staving off an affirmation that I had the best of reasons to believe was coming.

"By a set of young titled thieves at Eton," he replied; and here he expressed a wish anything but salutary for the health of their souls. "The Marquis of sent me a note by one of his

father's grooms that had been down with some school necessaries-a badger and a brace of bull-dogs, I believe-to say he wanted me about his Derby book: so down I go; and after luncheon at the Christopher with him and half-a-dozen other imps of blazes like himself, we had in cards for a quiet bit of hookey. At first I had the best of it: there's no use in telling a lie, for there's a good deal in knowing how to make a pack at hookey-all right and straight, you know; but scientific. Well! this lasted about half-an-hour, when the luck changed, as they called it; but it was the cards that were changed-for a cut pack, if ever I see one before; and so they got every blessed sixpence I had about me; and here I stand, cleaned out of my two thousand. What do you think of that?"

"Do you want to make me believe" I exclaimed, "that you continued to play with cards one deal after you knew that they were false?"

"No!" said the Leg with perfect composure; "I stopped as soon as I came to my senses, which wasn't till my last penny was gone; for-you may believe it or let it alone-the champagne I had at my luncheon was drugged!....tell me, what do you think of that?"

I didn't tell him; but, laying by my allegory and my deductions from it, for the day, and calling for my hat and cane, I took my way westward of Waterloo Place, in search of balm for my stricken philosophy.

PUBLIC AMUSEMENTS OF THE METROPOLIS.

"Some men, of an ill and melancholy nature, incline the company into which they come to be sad and ill disposed; and, contrariwise, others of a jovial nature dispose the company to be merry and cheerful."-BACON's Natural History.

"These sweepings do as well

As the best-ordered meal;

For who the relish of these guests will fit
Needs set them but the alms-basket of wit."

-BEN JONSON.

and

Public amusements, even as the men who create them, are diversely disposed; some fulfilling the "end and aim" of their creation duly and laudibly; others quite running athwart of their pristine purposes, inclining the spectator rather to ennui and melancholy than to mirth and jollity. We have seen a tragedy so played at the PRINCESS's as to beget merry thoughts of a burlesque; and a three-act opera of Balfe's, as enacted at DRURY, incline the most cheerful portions of the audience to a suicidal summerset off Westminster Bridge, as the consummation of the evening's weariness. And what wonder, when excellence and natural fitness are so constantly neglected by our theatri cal managers, for mere convenience or ill-ordered economy? No

doubt the easy indolence and gullibility of John Bull are at fault in this matter. Call an ill-translated and worse-fashioned French melodrama by the name of farce, and be sure three-fourths of the London audience will find fun in it: a plot ever so hacknied shall be esteemed new, because it is so called; and an actor ever so unskilful shall establish a reputation by the mere repetition of his name in the public journals. In all respects, from railway jobbing down to Cremorne fêtes, we take up with pretences instead of realities.

Before we speak of what has been, let us glance at what is to be, at the FRENCH THEATRE. Under Mr. Mitchell's management, Hope tells not a flattering tale in vain of any salle de spectacle. Only think of a programme for the French plays, commencing on Monday, the 3rd: Lafont the first star, with Mademoiselle Martelleur, of the Theatre Français, Paris and Lyons, at present an incognita with us. Another novelty also in the lady line is a Mademoiselle Eugénie, of the Theatre du Vaudeville. Thereafter will follow Madame Albert ; Messieurs Laferriere and Felix; Mesdames Doche, Rose-Chéri, Déjazet, Plessy, and last, but greatest, the (to make use of a German idiom) gift-encumbered Rachel. Mademoiselle la Directrice, the popular Eliza Forgeot, will ensure, as usual, a well-ordered management, and the early commencement of this highly-appreciated series of performances will, no doubt, accord to Mr. Mitchell the brilliantly successful season he so well merits by his uniform exertions for the public entertainment.

DRURY LANE, at which the everlasting repetitions of Balfe's operas had seemed to weary even the meek and camel-like necks or spirits of its patient incomers, has at length been transformed into a hall of novelty. Mr. Forbes's opera of "The Fairy Oak" and the ballet of "The Marble Maiden," under the guidance of Mons. Albert, work this change in the face of affairs. Several times in the week, though still too often, the old stories of "The Bohemian Girl," &c., pall upon the tired and stupefied senses. We cannot say as much for the music of the new opera as for the dancing and dancers of the new ballet: the latter are excellent, and naturally secure excellent houses. Adèle Dumilâtre, Petipa, Albert, and Pichler, with Masdemoiselles Adèle and Louise, would be forcible attractions any whither.

agree

The HAYMARKET Theatre is, the year round, so well organized for the entertainment of the public, that it feels less the influence of the reviving theatrical season than most of the minors; yet this able resort has been rendered more than usually attractive by the great accession of Miss Helen Faucit. This lady's acting has the art of moving the passions at will: she has genius, and the skill necessarily acquired by long practice, joined to the heart which moves the genius and the skill to act as the lever that raises the feelings of an audience to the highest pitch. The success which she formerly met with as Pauline, in "The Lady of Lyons," with Macready as Claude Melnotte, is no whit diminished in her present engagement with Mr. Anderson (but lately returned from America) as her supporter. Bulwer's plays are all highly dramatic, and can hardly lose their popularity: each is founded on a human passion, and each is treated humanly-that is, naturally, and of course effectively: Love,

pride, avarice, ambition-these find echoes in many bosoms; and the two first are finely depicted by Miss Faucit in Pauline. In many situations she creates the part she enacts: the injury she has endured at the hands of Claude, and the corresponding sense of bitter resentment in the heart of the proud lady, conflicts finely with the involuntary interest with which she listens to his relation in the third act, and with the love and remorse with which she is afterwards affected. Mr. Anderson is an acquisition to this theatre; while Farren still bears the palm of interest over every other of its actors. The old comedies revived, in which he holds the chief rôles, and the new and good comedies that have appeared during the last two seasons, and in which also he retains the chiefest parts, assist much to content its audiences.

The little theatre of the PRINCESS's has been made important by the advent of Mr. Macready on its boards. The legitimate drama has now a most fitting mouthpiece in this small salle de spectacle. Macready has returned to us unimpaired in vigour, and renewed in spirit. With what refreshment have we again imbibed the soulstirring words of Shakspeare from the lips of his restorer on the stage! With what gusto, if not with what force, he throws himself into the myriad ideas of the dramatist of nature! Without depreciating the merits of Miss Stanley for indefatigability and industry, how often do we wish that Miss Helen Faucit were acting with him, and up to him! Oh! for the good old times, when a play was a whole thing, excelling in its minutest as in its chiefest parts: when one name was not sufficient for the public! Such thoughts crowded into our mind when listening the other night to the stirring scenes in "Hamlet," so worthily enacted by Macready; nor could we resist ejaculating

"But oh! ye Muses nine, and fair-haired Graces three,
A new Ophelia grant when next this play we see."

"Don Cæsar de Bazan" still holds its popular place; and here Mrs. Stirling shows off to advantage. Oxberry and Honner are amusing in the farce of "Jack o' both Sides"'—a new trifle, in which also Miss Emma Stanley is very effective. It is in such characters as The Sempstress that she is highly meritorious: it is vexatious to tax her above her powers. We have not space to mention several other novelties brought out since last month at this house.

At the ADELPHI, we find as the newest novelty the "Diable à Quatre," the piece which has created such a sensation of late in Paris, rendered into irresistible pleasantry, as well as good English, in its British dress. No better adaptation, or more highly executed piece has been bestowed upon the public from the Adelphi répertoire for a long time back. The plot is much the same as "The Devil to Pay," and turns upon the exchange effected between the wives of a dissipated basket-maker and a moral count, of characters just the reverse of their respective husbands. The interest is sustained by excellent dancing of the comic order between Wright and Celeste (the basketmaker and his wife), in which the Polka is delightfully travestied, and between Mungard and Miss Ellen Chaplin. The scenery is good, and the putting on the stage, considering the limited capacities