THE HORSE. 277 



effect ; but if the vain attempt be made to drive him 

 beyond that point, his next effort must naturally be 

 to throw up his fore quarters and fight the air, whence 

 he must shorten his stride, and lose ground. Surely 

 the flourish of the whips, without the wanton and 

 useless torture, together with the graceful action, and 

 skilful exertions of the jockeys at the run in, ought 

 to afford a superior and sufficient gratification to 

 British spectators, male and female. 



It may be necessary to repeat here, from my. old 

 books, the execrable and loathsome tragedy of the 

 poor, fleabitten grey gelding, engaged to run twenty- 

 two miles in one hour, over the Surrey roads, which 

 he had once previously performed. On it being 

 found, towards the end of the second attempt, that 

 he was failing, he was whipped and spurred with 

 such unmerciful fury and continuance, that his en- 

 trails were let out, and he galloped with them trailing 

 on the ground, the last stroke of the whip accom- 

 panying his dying groan, on which he fell heart 

 broken and dead ! Some time subsequently, I dined 

 in a company of sporting people, when a relation of 

 this horrid business was received with smiles, grins, 

 and shrugs ! It spoiled my dinner. I related also, 

 as above, the deplorable case of a game little horse, 

 called Hussar, by Snap, the property. of that sleek, 

 smooth-tongued, fat-witted humbug Hull, the horse- 

 dealer. I met the horse on the road, coming to town 

 from Epsom, where he had run. He was lacerated 

 and cut up alive, from shoulder to flank, his sheath 

 torn to ribbons, and his testes sorely and dangerously 

 wounded. Arrived at Epsom, I met Billy Barnes, 



