First Ties: Hyson beat Timothy, Stork beat Lanercost, Berry beat Satirist, Crocodile beat Tom King. Second Ties: Stork beat Hyson, Berry beat Crocodile. Deciding Course: Mr. N. Blundell's Berry beat Mr. Swan's Stork, and won the Cup. Lord Talbot's bk. d. Tabard ran a bye, receiving forfeit from Mr. Swan's Sirius. Ties: Lapwing beat Tabard, Kirkham beat Hydra. Deciding Course: Mr. Lamb's Lapwing beat Mr. Ridgway's Kirkham, after a short and near course, and won the Stakes. Ties: Kalmia beat Cerito, Hempseed beat Handicraft. Deciding Course: Mr. E. G. Hornby's Hempseed (lame) beat Mr. Kershaw's Kalmia, and won the Stakes. Ties: Leader beat Cinderella, Busy beat Harry Lorrequer. Mr. Lamb's bk. and w. b. p. Lydia The SAPLING STAKES. beat Mr. Kershaw's r. b. p. Kelpie. Mr. E. G. Hornby's bd. d. p. Hermit ran a bye. Deciding Course: Mr. E. G. Hornby's Hermit beat Mr. Lamb's Lydia, and won the Stakes. The NEW DITCH IN STAKES, for beaten dogs. Mr. Ridgway's His Royal Highness (late } beat Mr. H. Hornby's Hellespont. Meteor) Mr. Kershaw's bk. d. Knowle. Deciding Course: Mr. Clowes's Cinderella beat Mr. Ridgway's H. R. Highness, and won the Stakes. The ALTCAR HALL STAKES. Mr. E. G. Hornby's bd. d. Harry Lorrequer beat Mr. Swan's bk. d. Satirist. ... Mr. Ridgway's bk. and w. d. Rector. Deciding Course: Mr. E. G. Hornby's Harry Lorrequer beat Mr. Clowes's Chusan, and won the Stakes. Mr. Kershaw's f. b. Keen Mr. Blundell's r. b. Bess The HILL HOUSE STAKES. beat Mr. Clowes's r. d. Castaway. Mr. Swan's bk. and w. b. Shadow. Deciding Course: Mr. Kershaw's Keen beat Mr. Blundell's Bess, and won the Stakes. Mr. Kershaw's bk. d. Knowsley Mr. Clowes's bk. b. Concert The ACKERS HOLT STAKES. beat Mr. Blundell's w. b. Bet. Lord Sefton's be. b. Sine-quâ-non. ... Deciding Course: Mr. Kershaw's Knowsley beat Mr. Clowes's Conceit, and won the Stakes. LONDON: WRIGHT AND CO., PRINTERS, 76, FLEET STREAT. TO READERS AND CORRESPONDENTS. THE eighth wonder of the world lately come to light, is the SELFLIGHTING SEALING-WAX, which we prognosticate will (much to the gratification of the inventors, Messrs. Davis, Brothers, and Co.) make an everlasting impression. A bias to fashion may certainly be given by the dispersion of the treasury of vertú, at Strawberry Hill, as our correspondent suggests; but some of the revivals to which he alludes have already been effected. A cane, for instance, is, and has, for years, been an appendage of a modern gentleman. The spirit with which that taste is catered for, he will best understand by an inspection of Sangster's collection, in Regent-street, where he may see plain, unmounted canes, valued at fifty guineas a-piece, and upwards. In the Hon. Grantley Berkeley's paper, in the present number, Mr. Neeld's name should be spelt as it is here, and not Nield; the correction arrived after the article had gone to press. The communications have not been received from Stokenchurch, Oxon will the writer forward them at his convenience? : How can we write to our correspondent whose address was Postoffice, Edinburgh? Vols. V. and VI., bound in fancy cloth boards, and lettered, are now ready. La jeune France may be a political Phoenix, produced from the ashes of the "trois jours," but, depend upon it, la belle France is morally and socially the same that she was when Sterne let us into the secret of her idiosyncrasy. Her chivalric symbol may be changedher immortal fleur-de-lis for ever faded-her snowy banner levelled with the dust-but, in all her joyous relations, she is unaltered. Make but a slight allowance for the freaks of fashion-for the cultivation of favoris, and the abandonment of maréchalle powder, and ye shall see her in all the same-the land in which existence is a jubilee. What if a dynasty has been uprooted in Paris, the green elms of the Tuilleries still wave in their bravery: what if her flag no longer fling its folds over broad Europe-go to the Boulevards, and look upon life as a neverending holyday; and long may it be thus! Doubtless, Plato, "thou reasonest well." But may not men be merry and wise? Is philosophic thought but another name for bile-indigestion-blue devils, and despair? It is something to have a specific for a November fog: here it is. What time the atmosphere of St. James's, which it is my fortune (soit dit) to breathe, and wherein I have my being, resembles purée aux pois; I straightway bethink me of the bounding spirits the indescribable exhilaration of heart, that attended my early experience of Paris. Before me rise countless glad faces and laughing eyes: I hear gleesome voices-I drink in the odour of flowers-I mingle in the hilarity, and "my bosom's lord rests lightly on his throne," as erst he was wont, when the wine-cup was quaffed, and the frank courtesy exchanged amid the brilliant fetes of the Champs Elysées. Again I dance the length of a summer's day among dainty damsels, and youths with heels as light as their hearts. The orchestras, al fresco, are replenished: batches of fiddlers, worn out with the exercise, give place to reliefs: iced lemonade flows around, and all—all is sunshine in the bright canopy above, and the happy spirits beneath it. Myrtlesorange-trees-illuminated pavilions, jets d'eau, bright as liquid diamonds -statues-garlands-fountains-festoons of lamps-"moonlight music, love and flowers"-with such accompaniments as these in my mind's eye, I see thee once more, fair Paris, and thy Elysian Fields ! The perpetual carnival which constituted the routine of Parisian society had its influence on more experienced heads than mine. Mr. Thomas Longueville, who, in England, was as grave as a judge, or a wigblock, appeared to have given sobriety to the winds, and carried himself as jauntily as a roué of the olden comedy. From a sedate gentleman, prone to politics and port wine, he had grown into a beau who perpetrated satin breeches, ecarté, and Roman punch, as regularly as the sun went down. The fate of the “house divided” was in process of fulfilment at that moment. I thought not then-but how often since have I reflected upon what the home of my fathers had become-and what it might have been. In the halls of B— sat its lord, a lone and solitary man. It may be that, by nature, he was not as light-hearted as others; but circumstances had converted him into a hopeless misanthrope. My mother lived wholly apart from him; and uncle Tom, his lamp burnt to the socket, was flaring up at the finish with the expiring effulgence of train-oil. But at the time thoughts like these came not between my pleasure and my philosophy. I was in a land flowing with milk and honey; and mine was not the spirit to despise the good the gods offered. The Fauxbourg St. Honoré did not contain a pair more thoroughly disposed to make life endurable than the uncle and nephew. We laid every restaurant of the Palais Royal under contribution, and lived after a fashion that might have moved the envy of Apicius or Sardanapalus. Oh, ye cartes of the gods !-celestial catalogues of “veau à la crême,”—“ turban de filets de lapereaux”—“ salmi de bécasses"—" poulets a la reine" -"macedoine en chartreuse"-" gelée de citron renversée"-" des gauffres à l'allemande”—“mizaton de poires soufflé à la jannot:"— your memories are sweet as zephyrs fresh from beds of violets! Visions of rump-steaks and onions begone!-my gorge rises--I shudder and flee your presence-hideous, horrible, cannibal contrivances! On the morning succeeding the scene in the Place Vendome, it was late when I joined my uncle, who had already broken his fast by the aid of peaches that would have done credit to the garden of Edencafé au lait fit for the Light of the Harem-and divers qualities of chasse in quaint-looking flasks, that seemed tipsy with their luscious I was in no mood for moralising, yet I could not but look with a strange feeling on an old man, who had gone on eating hours contents. |