AT LARGE ii 



of some note, though, of course, none of them may 

 be as great a man as a certain politician and would- 

 be philosopher who scorns the Turf and every- 

 thing connected with it, and not long since 

 expressed his conviction that " the great bulk of 

 the supporters of the Ring " would be equally 

 eager to bet on spavined snails as on racehorses. 

 That we who go racing can take any delight in 

 the make and shape, the exquisite symmetry, of 

 the thoroughbred horse ; that we can be gratified 

 by looking at him as he walks round, trained to 

 the hour, his muscles showing beneath his satin 

 skin ; that we really admire the grace, smoothness, 

 and restrained vigour of his action as he canters 

 to the post ; that we can really enjoy gazing at 

 him as he puts his heart into his work, full of 

 indomitable courage, responding to the skilful, 

 well-timed call of his jockey in a hard-fought 

 finish, this censor — discussing a subject of which 

 he knows nothing — does not believe. Spavined 

 snails would do equally well for us poor creatures 

 who, by the mistaken bounteousness of Providence, 

 are privileged to breathe the same air which fills 

 his highly superior lungs. We can only apologise 

 to him for having been born and for the dreadfully 

 low tastes which we have acquired. 



He will not agree with me — I do not suppose 



