loitering about listlessly, in green single-breasted coats, drab or white corduroys, and cloth boot-tops; and of whose movements I would have, not you, being Yorkshire, but every body else beware: for report says (with what truth I do not pretend to know) that even here an ignorant person may chance to buy horses and experience at the same time.

It must be confessed that there is one thing to be said in favour of the absolute no-pretension of our English style of architecture: you cannot accuse it of making promises that it does not fulfil. In Paris a splendid portico, running half-way up the house, and jutting out half across the street, is as likely as not to usher you into a paltry perruquier's shop twelve feet by twelve. Here, on the contrary, a plain gateway, cut through a plain brick frontage, rendered still more plain by a little stucco, ushers you, through a narrow dark passage, into a great square court, open to the sky above, and bounded on the four sides by the spacious buildings which form part of this really admirable establishment. As I know that nothing will keep you from coming up by the mail incontinently, on the receipt of this, unless I can in the course of it contrive to place you, in imagination, on the spot I am describing,—I had better try to do so at once, before I proceed to more important matters. Be pleased then to pass, arm in arm with me, through the narrow covered entry I have just mentioned— the wicket of which, by the by, is attended by what seems to be a dragoon, in a military cloak, cap, &c.-but this is only the porter, dressed in the costume, or livery of the place a little bit of quackery not exactly worthy of so almost national an undertaking as this: though I dare say some very specious reasons, apart from mere appearance, might be given for the adoption of this uniform dress by all the underlings engaged in the place. It is a bit of quackery nevertheless. But no matter. Passing through this gateway, let us stop at the verge of the great quadrangle, and look about us. Opposite to the point of entrance rises the principal elevation, the lower story of which consists of an archway projecting a little, and flanked by wings extending to the sides of the square, and pierced at the upper part by low open arches. Above this is a range of lofty windows running the whole length of this side. And above the centre rises a clock tower, surmounted by a vane. The lower of these ranges consists of the Riding-house; and the upper, of the great sporting Subscription-room. The sides of the court, to our right and left as we now stand, consist of low uniform ranges, of one story, with shelving roofs overhanging the front walls, and forming a sheltered walk on each side the square. These buildings comprise the principal ranges of stabling, and above them, the principal standing for carriages. They are each pierced, at uniform distances, by two archways, which lead to other ranges of stabling. To complete our view of the square, we may pass into the centre of it, and look back upon that side at which we entered-which consists merely of the arch of entrance, flanked by spacious glazed entrances on each side,—that on the right opening into the clerks' offices, and that on the left to the vestibule leading to the sadlery department: while each extremity of this side is bounded by a small arch leading to the staircase by which you reach the extensive carriage standings.Passing out of the great square through the arch opposite to that at

which we entered, we find ourselves in a capital Riding-house, extending the whole length of one side of the square; and crossing that, we again pass through a small archway, and enter that department of the establishment where the Auction takes place. This consists of an avenue, running parallel with the Riding-house, but of greater length, and covered in about half way by a cast-iron sky-light. This showyard is partly bounded by ranges of stabling, and partly by the public coffee-rooms,-the windows of which look down upon the spot where the auction is taking place.-Passing up a narrow flight of stairs, and through these coffee-rooms, (of which there are three,) we shall find ourselves in the most striking part of this altogether unique establishment. This is the carriage department,-occupying three entire sides of the square, and consisting of an uninterrupted range of galleries entirely filled with carriages of every description, placed in double and treble rows, and with an eye to the most perfect uniformity of appearance.—The remaining side of the square, on a level with these galleries, is occupied by the sadlery department.

You have now, Frank, a general notion of the mere locale of this singular place. And am I to apologize for the dry description which has conveyed it to you? or am I rather to expect your chiding for not having carried it still more into detail? Waiting your reply on these important points, I proceed to put life and motion into the above scene; which has hitherto been one of perfectly still life.-The only animated thing we have yet seen is the porter at the gate of entrance. Let us now turn from the building to its inhabitants. We will suppose our visit to be paid on an auction day-Wednesday or Saturday; and an hour or so before the sale begins. The cortège outside we have noticed on entering. The first persons that attract attention within are the underlings of the establishment, looking all alike-in white duck trowsers, blue spencer jackets, and blue foraging caps with white bands and top-knots. These are passing to and fro in all directions, upon their various duties, and all as silent as the members of a Carthusian convent. Indeed the first general observation, that will strike you on visiting this place, will be the singular stillness and decorum with which every thing is conducted. There is not a sound to be heard, but the tramp of horses' feet, and their sudden stopping,— the loud single smack of a whip at intervals, from the spots where horses are out on show-and the occasional opening and shutting of stable doors :-no calling and shouting to one another-no noisy sportings, jokings, or ribaldry-no quarrelling, and swearing.—But you cannot conceive of all this, in what, as you will say, can be but a great stable-yard after all.-I must explain it to you, by an item from the rules and regulations of the place-which are included in a printed prospectus of fourteen quarto pages!" No liquor is allowed to enter the bazaar."-You need seek for no other explanation of the mystery. A set of English ostlers and grooms would as soon think of talking without a tongue, as without liquor to set it in motion.

Your next general observation here will refer to the class of persons who visit the establishment as customers. In England the persons who particularly interest themselves about horses, consist of three distinct classes, the individuals of each of which have as marked and peculiar an air about them, for those who are quicksighted in such

matters, as if they wore a distinct costume. The first of these classes consists of the young bloods of family and fashion, chiefly military, with whom an acquaintance with horses is only one (though the principal) among their many personal accomplishments.-The second class consists of those of various ranks in life, from the highest to the secondary part of the middle, whose passion for horses absorbs and supersedes all others.-The third class consists of those truly knowing hands, who live by administering to the fancies and inclinations of the two former.

.

You'll find that the company at the Horse Bazaar consists almost entirely of the above three classes; and when you've been half as long "about town" as I have, you'll be able to distinguish an individual of each of them by his mere air, as well as if you could look into his heart or his pocket-book. The two last, indeed, have an express costume, that is scarcely at all amneable to the decrees of fashion, and has undergone very little change as long as I can remembernone at all indeed, with a single exception appertaining to the apparel of the legs-which we shall have occasion to notice hereafter.—The first class, however, is much too fanciful to answer the above description. It does not keep in the same mind for more than a season together, even in regard to the class of animal it chooses to patronize, or the mode in which it should be used ;-now running all upon bony hunters now scorning to be borne by any thing but full blood-and now infinitely contemptuous towards any thing but the managed graces of an ambling Arabian or a Spanish Jennet. These high-bred persons are scarcely less fickle, too, in the affair of horsemanship-patronizing the hunting seat, the military seat, and the knowing or slang seat by turns,-just as the leader of the season happens to be affected at the commencement of it. We can scarcely expect, then, that they should be less fanciful in regard to the attire of their own proper persons.

As you do not pretend to be a Londoner as yet, Frank, and as these Letters are intended to be London ones exclusively, and to meddle with those matters alone which cannot be learned elsewhere, suppose I instruct you a little as to the distinguishing characteristics of each of the above classes of persons, by pointing out to your attention the best specimen we can find of each of them.-Look at that stable-door on the left, which has just opened to emit from within that sprig of English nobility. But let us not use any epithets in regard to him that can be construed contemptuously; for contempt is the last feeling his mere appearance is calculated to excite; and it is that alone about which we are concerning ourselves. In fact,

:

"His port I love-he looks as if

He'd chide the thunder if at him it roar'd."

The truth is, that our young nobility of the present day are very noblelooking persons, and that their manners and habits, as well as their appearance, have undergone a striking change for the better, within a very few years with their morals, of course, you and I have nothing to do; those we leave to their mammas. It was the fashion, a short time ago, to tax them with effeminacy; and is so still among a certain class of inquirers, as if that were not the very last fault that can fairly be laid to their charge. Why even you, Frank, will be surprised, and perhaps pleased to learn, that a soft hand is a mere vulgarism now-a-days, and that the real thing is to ride on horseback without gloves!

But let us return to our example of the first class of company who frequent the Horse Bazaar. With what an air he stands-looking down upon the man he is addressing-(for it is the fashion to be six feet high-his little earlship of Ue nevertheless notwithstanding)— yet without the slightest assumption of superiority; for why should he assume a virtue" which he possesses? And with what an air of halfassumed, half-sincere deference the man who is listening to his orders looks up to him. I would bet odds, by the air of each, that a bargain has been struck between them, and that both know that the buyer has been taken in. Not that the horse is a bad one; for the lord is likely to know pretty nearly as much about that matter as the jockey. But he has given a score or so of pounds more than if he had chosen to wait for the public sale. But what matter? He has a fancy for the horse, and he will have it. And as for the price, that will only enable him, if he shouldn't happen to like it, the better to oblige his young friend from Oxford, who wants 66 exactly such a horse!" But we are digressing. Observe his head-you shall not see a finer in a long summer's day; and you shall not see the like of it any where but in Engiand, and in this class of English life. True, there is not, in the face, the elevation of the poet, or the thoughtfulness of the sage, or the piercing sagacity of the statesman and philosopher. But there are the rudiments of all these ; and (what is worth them all) that fine placidity which cannot consist with them, and which results from that truly philosophic indifference which nobody has ever found out the secret of so fully as our modern English men of pleasure. You'll say I'm getting sententious, Frank. The truth is, I've a real respect for the class of persons I'm describing, and think them as superior to the "men of pleasure about town" in the time of Charles and Anne, as the entire want of pretence and petitmaitreship is to the presence of these. They think that they might have been any thing that they had pleased: in which they are pretty right;for most of them have fine natural capacities. And they think that they are just what they wish to be, because what they think best; and in this they are pretty right too. Why, then, should they pretend to be other than they are? I mean they are right for the present, while their high blood is in its full heat and heyday. They are destined to become distinguished statesmen, hereafter, perhaps; and if so, Heaven knows they had need enjoy themselves a little while they may. But I'm sacrificing the costume to the character; which is against all rule. The dress of the class of persons I am now describing was never better adapted to its purpose than now ;-that purpose being to enable the wearer to look entirely different from all other classes of people, without any one being able to point out from what that difference arises. And this, you are to know, is the criterion of a well-dressed man. He shall have on apparel of exactly the same description as that worn by fifty other persons, who shall meet him in the course of the morning; not one of which fifty shall doubt that he is the best-dressed man they have seen; and not one of them shall observe that he is, in fact, dressed the same as they themselves are. What is there conspicuous in a perfectly plain blue frock coat, buttoned up to the throat, a black silk handkerchief, with scarcely any of the white collar seen above it, and a pair of almost black trowsers, cut off straight round the boot, and strapped tight under it ? This is the costume of the person I am describing. And yet

there is an air distingué about it, which not al! the ruffs, velvet, and point-devices of Charles's time could give. You will tell me, perhaps, that it is the wearer makes all the difference. But here you are mistaken. I do not mean to say that if you take as fine a mere person as the one before us out of the ranks of the Life Guards, and put these very clothes upon him, he will look like a man of fashion; any more than the man of fashion would look like a life-guardsman in his clothes: for each has a knack of putting on and of wearing his things "with a difference." But I must insist that the chief and almost the entire merit of the mere appearance of the former (leaving his air and mode of moving out of the question) depends on the artists he employs. There is something about a coat of Stultz, that no one else can achieve; and that no one acquainted with such matters can mistake, whether he sees it on the back of a boor or a Brummel. It is the same with the boots, hat, &c. In short, the only article of dress which depends entirely on the practical skill of the wearer, is the neckcloth: for the ready-formed French stock-which is probably by this time beginning to penetrate to those "uttermost parts of the earth" which you inhabit-has long since been exploded here, and is now the very climax of cockney vulgarity.

I'm afraid, Frank, I am expending more time on this young Lord than you will think him worth. Let us at once turn to a specimen of our second class of Bazaar company; which you will understand and appreciate much better;-being yourself, if I am rightly informed, no unfavourable example of the parallel class in Yorkshire. Your true London horse-fancier is the most exclusive person in the world, in all that he thinks, feels, looks, says, and does. It is, however, with his looks alone that we are to concern ourselves at present. He is almost always "a light weight,"--consequently small, compact, and what is called dapper in his figure. His face good-humoured, healthy (for a Londoner), and notwithstanding its somewhat vacant look, yet always shrewd, watchful, and knowing. His present costume is a single-breasted bottle green coat,-in length, or rather in shortness, approaching to a jacket, with pockets on the hips to admit his hands when they are not otherwise employed, [which they seldom are except when the bridle is in them,] an outside waistcoat of buff kersey, with covered buttons, or of buff toilinett striped with blue and green, and an under waistcoat, sometimes two, of some bright fancy pattern and colour; breeches made very loose and short, either of white or buff cord, or of a light drab kersey slightly tinged with green, and covered buttons; jockey boots made very long, so as to wrinkle down, and with a very short top, or in place of this latter a modern innovation (not yet countenanced by the best specimens of this class) consisting of a short piece of lightcoloured kersey to button on where the boot-top would otherwise be. Add to this, long plated spurs, loosely put on so as to admit of their inclining downwards instead of sticking bolt out like a postilion's ; a neckcloth usually of some fancy shawl pattern, put on wide, so as to go into folds; a hat rather lower in the crown than the common run, and smaller towards the top; and lastly, an ash stick, quite straight, with the exception of an artificial hook for the hand. All this, Frank, you will, I dare say, understand well enough; for I suppose it does not much differ from your own Doncaster costume.