exiled race, either from choice or necessity. And how are situated the noble domains from which hundreds of equipages have brought their as noble owners to enjoy legitimate sport, and hoping to witness the triumph of their favourite horse? How are these situated! Of some, perhaps, not a vestige remains; while others, in sad and solemn grandeur, are in the hands of griping Jews, attorneys, and managerswhose management is to transmit nothing of that little which mortgages may have left to be hoped for, and grinding every once prosperous and happy tenant, till he looks on the landlord who has deserted him as his enemy, and fit object on which to vent every ill feeling his nature is capable of evincing.

Poor Curragh! thou hast participated in this general wreck; and there you stand, a sad reminiscence of departed greatness-the ghost of what you were; but still inviting the descendants of your once noble patrons to return, foster, and live in what ought to be a happy land.

Without, however, entering on the somewhat knotty point of how far the statistics of a country or monetary circumstances have or have not caused the secession of so many noble and influential patrons from the turf, let us see how far the change in, and management of, racing affairs have influenced this secession, and caused so many disgraceful transactions to have taken place in (it may be said) all great events on the turf, and racing to be on its wane. The regular turfite will probably deny that it is so; and further state, that at no time was there more, or so much, money vested in racing matters as at the present one, or that there were ever more horses in training than now. We will not dispute where dispute is unnecessary, and will therefore grant that this is the case. So it may be said of railroads; but it does not follow because this is the case that they may not be on the decline in public opinion as safe investments of money. If I only if this is the case, down they will go ; and if the characteristics of racing once become such as to convince its supporters that they cannot keep horses, or interfere with and support the turf, without robbing or being robbed, down that will go also.

We will grant that more money is vested than formerly; that stakes are larger, and more entries for them; if this arose from an increased love of the sport, then I must-and would with pleasure-allow that racing was in a healthy and prosperous state; but, with submission, I deny such to be the case. The large sums subscribed by somebody-or, rather, by a certain number of particular persons-is done to give a larger sweep to a certain set when the thing is "made safe," to give a yearly" haul" that enables the drawers of the net to bid high enough to ensure co-operation with any piece of rascality. That is, to make up the "great pot ;" and that where fifty pounds will not do, a thousand or two can be brought forward as a clincher.

It may be said that in small matters, giving five guineas to ensure the winning of fifty is as good a spec., as pretty a profit on malpractices as giving a thousand to win ten. So it is in proportion as numerical interest or expenditure of hush money goes, and it may therefore be inferred that as many knaveries would take place in minor as in larger events. But such reasoning a moment's reflection will tell us is not only mere sophistry, but perfectly fallacious; for it will be borne in mind that the tempter and the tempted risk detection as much for the fifty as the ten thousand, and that fifty pounds is a poor recompence for

a prosecution, the being horsewhipped on and off a course, and dubbed a scoundrel: but ten thousand has a peculiar healing influence in such an affair.

To carry the thing on handsomely, as it is carried on now-a-days, requires a heavy expenditure of the private, or, more generally, of the combined purse, the mixing with fashionable people (though let us still hope not with people of fashion), expensive dinners, and expensive travelling; then a fund must be kept, in case, by any unforeseen chance, the "pot should boil over.' All this could not be borne unless the stakes, and consequently the betting, are unusually heavy. Victims are induced to subscribe to such races as a means of a 66 pulling up" for the constant sum or sums and entries they have lost, and, if they have a tried promising nag, hug themselves that such will be the case; when, God knows, such a man is generally the last who ought to feel self congratulations on the coming event. The owner of a publicly supposed brute, or some dark horse who has (without his knowledge) been tried and found good enough to be "there" or "thereabouts," may be allowed (if it suits that the thing shall come off so) to pocket the stakes, after the pretended "office" has been given him by a friend-on whose judgment and integrity he can of course rely-to back something heavily that has as much chance of winning as a wheelbarrow. So as he wins, say three thousand in stakes, and loses five in bets, the "pulling up" he anticipated does in fact take place, by pulling him up.

It may be said, and is perhaps justly said, that large stakes alone-or, rather, only can pay training expenses. That such can only pay public training expenses, or training extensively in any way, is an axiom I fully subscribe to. But when I allow, as a data, that it is the only one that can pay such outlay, I in no way infer that is the one that will; for I know that in nine hundred and ninety-nine cases in a thousand it will not-that is, not in the LONG run. It might be asked whether running for smaller events gives a better chance? Not a whit, if horses are trained in the usual way; the only difference would be that you would lose your money gradually instead of doing so in a more summary

way.

Now the following questions may be asked: Is there no man who, in the long run, makes money by racing? Yes, one man in a hundred; who can train, and generally ride, his own horses; who has good judgment, good luck, and entirely devotes himself to the pursuit ; not, at the same time, running for such stakes, or risking on any events, sufficient money to make it worth the while of the "fraternity" to entrap him or poison his horses.

Is there no way by which a man may reasonably hope to make money by racing, if he does not go on the last mentioned plan, or is able to do so? None on earth.

Has no man made money by racing, going on the ordinary system? Yes; if, as in the case of the late Mr. Beardsworth, he has by some circumstance been stopped in his racing career before he went on long enough to lose what he may have won.

Did the celebrated Captain Mellish make money by his horses? I should say he did, perhaps ; but had he gone on long enough he would as assuredly have lost it again, perhaps tenfold.

Then may come, we will say, question the last. If there is no reason

able hope of making money by race-horses, why does any man keep them? The first reply I should make would be, because he flatters himself he will make money, though he sees every year hundreds who flattered themselves in the same way, and found it was not to be done (but they were).

But there is another reason to be given why men keep race-horses, who perhaps did not anticipate that they should make money by them, or, if they did, very shortly find they cannot. Do the same men make money by their hounds, or by giving fêtes that cost hundreds of an evening? No. Then why should they expect to make it by their racehorses?"Ah!" cries the fair aristocratic partner of such men, "but the two expenses are not to be compared; there is refinement in giving costly fètes, but none in keeping a lot of odious race horses." This may be true, fair lady; but it does not follow there is much more sense displayed in giving the one than in keeping the other; they are both justifiable expenses and pursuits to the man who can afford them, and goes no further than spending his thousand or two a year in each.

I have before subscribed to the opinion (if such is the opinion or the real state of the case) that there are as many (or more, if you please) race horses kept than ever. Does this, then, look like racing being in its wane, or great stakes tending to such a result? Indeed, in my humble opinion, it does very much so; but perhaps I take a widely different view of the thing from that taken by a person who might put the two last supposed questions. But I will state why I consider there being as many horses in training is no proof of the probable permanency of racing, or of its being now in a healthful condition. We give it that there are as many horses. Now, I believe, no man who knows anything at all about turf matters will attempt to deny that a positive host of noblemen and men of fortune have declined keeping horses; and, in fact, instead of having their large strings of them in training, and their breeding establishments, have cut the turf altogether. Still, it seems, the same number of horses are to be seen. They must therefore belong to somebody. If the majority of them are not in the hands of the aristocracy, in whose hands are they? Why, in a greater or less degree in the hands of such men as have driven that aristocracy from the turf; where, as the property of single individuals, or a clique-gang would be a more appropriate term-they are kept to play their parts in assisting to make up "the great event," be it what or where it may ; to assist in a confederacy to rob the few noblemen or gentlemen who still adhere to the turf in point of stakes; and in a much greater degree the public in point of money. Betting was always precarious enough, and ruinous enough to most men. But in former days, where one man made money in the betting ring, and another lost, it generally arose from one betting with good judgment, the other with bad; but the thing is not so now. Then horses were in most cases allowed to win or lose on their merits and powers. A correct estimate of those brought a man through in his bets; but who can make any judgment avail when it is probably in many cases not known to whom horses actually belong, and if this were got at, it is still less known how he is to show in the race. A man may know where he ought to be, but where he will be is another affair.

(To be continued.)

BEAR-SHOOTING.

BY H. LLOYD.

(Concluded.)

On first setting out there was a degree or so of cold, but by the time the ring-which, from circumstances, was of unusually great extent was reached, the temperature had become so much milder, that the snow adhered to the skidor. Rather, therefore, than attempt to run down the beast, we deemed it best to endeavour to steal upon him in his lair.

For this purpose, with the guns in perfect readiness for action, we followed his spör in deep silence; but our progress was slow, as well from the denseness of the forest as from the frequent doublings of the brute. At times, indeed, he had gone in the very same tracks he had made when chased a few days before, so that we were frequently at fault.

The afternoon was therefore well advanced before we discovered his bed, which was in a very dense thicket; but we were a little too late, for a few seconds previously he had taken alarm, and moved himself off.

The bear being on foot, and it being quite certain that, whether chased or not, he would not halt again in a hurry, nothing else was to be done but to uncouple the dogs, who, now that they had rested for some days, dashed merrily away in pursuit; but, from the very unfavourable state of the snow, we were quite unable to keep pace with them.

As during the previous chase of this bear he had made very many doubles, such we anticipated would be the case in this instance. Elg was therefore directed to follow his tracks with the dogs, whilst I, guided by their challenges, endeavoured to cut in upon him.

But the manœuvre succeeded not, for after a while the beast held nearly a straight course, and we were soon distanced altogether.

More by good luck than anything else, I did on one occasion view the beast as he was ascending the face of a precipitous hill, and though the distance was too great, sent a ball after him; but, as he neither flinched nor slackened his pace, the presumption was, it went wide of the mark.

Evening was now closing in, and, seeing the uselessness of farther pursuit, we directed our steps to a cottage hard by in the wilderness. As here was found the wherewithal to satisfy hunger, and a truss of straw on which to stretch our wearied limbs, the night was passed comfortably enough.

We were in hopes there would have been a change in the weather for the better during the night, but, on the contrary, the morning was ushered in with heavy rain and wind. As nothing, therefore, could be done that day, Elg was instructed to ring the bear, whilst I pro

ceeded across the forest on skidor to Ostanäs, the residence of M. Cronsberg, at some few miles' distance, where I was most kindly and hospitably entertained.

In the evening my man rejoined me, having succeeded in ringing the beast at five or six miles to the north-eastward, and at no great distance from the spot where the other three bears were encircled.

The weather continuing unfavourable during the following day, we kept the house, where a good library and the agreeabilities of civilised life afforded ample compensation for the want of success.

On the succeeding morning, however, there was a degree or two of cold, when, knowing that the skidor could now be used to advantage, off we started in a sledge for the single bear at the first break of day.

The inutility of attempting to shoot him by stealth having been seen during the last chasse, it was determined in this instance to try the practicability of running him fairly down. Soon after reaching the ring, therefore, the dogs were uncoupled, and presently were heard in full pursuit.

The bear was started near to the foot of a tolerably precipitous and closely-wooded mountain, and as he at first faced upwards, we in the early part of the run lost way; but, when arrived near to the summit of the acclivity, where the ground was more level, the tables were turned, and we came up with him apace. As, however, he kept threading the one dense brake after the other, where the difficulty of following was considerable, we for a while saw nothing of the fellow.

At length, however, he faced somewhat down the declivity, with the dogs in full cry at his heels, making for a sort of vista leading to the valley below. The ground being now in our favour, we were not slow in following, so that by the time the beast emerged from the thicket into the opening we were not at more than thirty or forty paces' distance.

As Elg who was a pace or two in front of me, had his rifle in hand at the instant of the bear's appearance in the opening, whilst my gun was only partially uncased, I directed him to fire forthwith. This he attempted, though unsuccessfully, for his piece flashed. On hearing the explosion of the cap, the beast, who was previously in the act of retreating, wheeled about, but whether with the intention of charging, as my man imagined, is hard to say. By this time, however, I was quite in readiness, and as the animal faced us I fired, when he as instantly fell; but, as he evinced a disposition to rise again, I thought it best to discharge my second barrel, which effectually destroyed life.

Our hard-earned prize was a fine male. Leaving Elg to procure a sledge for his conveyance from the forest, I returned on skidor to Ostanäs, where the beast was brought in the afternoon.

As the National Museum at Stockholm was at this time in want of a good specimen of the ursa major, Mr. Falk sent him to that institution, where, I am told, he cuts a most respectable figure to this very day.

We should have attacked the three bears on the following morning had it not been for a renewal of the thaw which had for so long a time marred all our operations. It was by far the most enduring one