The Arab horse is as celebrated for his docility and good temper, as for his speed and courage. In that delightful book, "Bishop Heber's Narrative of a Journey through the Upper Provinces of India," the following interesting character is given of him. "My morning rides are very pleasant. My horse is a nice, quiet, good-tempered little Arab, who is so fearless, that he goes, without starting, close to an elephant, and so gentle and docile, that he eats bread out of my hand, and has almost as much attachment and coaxing ways as a dog. This seems the general character of the Arab horses, to judge from what I have seen in this country. It is not the fiery dashing animal I had supposed, but with more rationality about him, and more apparent confidence in his rider, than the majority of English horses."

The kindness with which he is treated from a foal, gives him an affection for his master, a wish to please, a pride in exerting every energy in obedience to his commands, and, consequently, an apparent sagacity which is seldom seen in other breeds. The mare and her foal inhabit the same tent with the Bedouin and his children. The neck of the mare is often the pillow of the rider, and more frequently of the children, who are rolling about upon her and the foal: yet no accident ever occurs, and the animal acquires that friendship and love for man which occasional ill-treatment will not cause him for a moment to forget.

When the Arab falls from his mare, and is unable to rise, she will immediately stand still, and neigh until assistance arrives. If he lies down to sleep, as fatigue sometimes compels him, in the midst of the desert, she stands watchful over him, and neighs and rouses him if either man or beast approaches. An old Arab had a valuable mare that had carried him for fifteen years, in many a hard-fought battle, and many a rapid, weary march; at length, eighty years old, and unable longer to ride her, he gave her, and a scimitar that had been his father's, to his eldest son, and told him to appreciate their value, and never lie down to rest until he had rubbed them both as bright as a looking-glass. In the first skirmish in which the young man was engaged, he was killed, and the mare fell into the hands of the enemy. When the news reached the old man, he exclaimed that "life was no longer worth preserving, for he had lost both his son and his mare, and he grieved for one as much as the other;" and he immediately sickened and died.

Man, however, is an inconsistent being, The Arab who thus lives with, and loves his horses, regarding them as his most valuable treasure, sometimes treats them with a cruelty scarcely to be believed, and not at all to be justified. The severest treatment which the English race-horse endures is gentleness compared with the trial of the young Arabian. Probably the filly has never before been mounted; she is led out; her owner springs

on her back, and goads her over the sands and rocks of the desert, at full speed, for fifty or sixty miles, without one moment's respite. She is then forced, steaming and panting, into water deep enough for her to swim. If, immediately after this, she will eat as if nothing had occurred, her character is established, and she is acknowledged to be a genuine descendant of the Kochlani breed. The Arab is not conscious of the cruelty which he thus inflicts: it is an invariable custom; and custom will induce us to inflict many a pang on those whom, after all, we love.

The following anecdote of the attachment of an Arab to his mare has often been told, but it comes home to the bosom of every one possessed of common feeling. "The whole stock of an Arab of the desert consisted of a mare. The French consul offered to purchase her, in order to send her to his sovereign, Louis XIV. The Arab would have rejected the proposal at once with indignation and scorn; but he was miserably poor. He had no means of supplying his most urgent wants, or procuring the barest necessaries of life. Still he hesitated;

he had scarcely a rag to cover him-and his wife and children were starving. The sum offered was great,-it would provide him and his family with food for life. At length, and reluctantly, he consented. He brought the mare to the dwelling of the consul,-he dismounted,-he stood leaning upon her;-he looked now at the gold, and then at his favorite; he sighed-he wept. To whom is it,' said he,' I am going to yield thee up? To Europeans, who will tie thee close,-who will beat thee,-who will render thee miserable. Return with me, my beauty, my jewel, and rejoice the hearts of my children.' pronounced the last words, he sprung upon her back, and was out of sight in a moment."

As he

The next anecdote is scarcely less touching, and not so well known. Ibrahim, a poor, but worthy Arab, unable to pay a sum of money which he owed, was compelled to allow a merchant of Rama to become partner with him in a valuable mare. When the time came, he could not redeem his pledge to this man, and the mare was sold. Her pedigree could be traced, on the side of sire and dam, for full five hundred years. The price was three hundred pounds; an enormous sum in that country. Ibrahim went frequently to Rama to inquire after the mare: he would embrace her, wipe her eyes with his handkerchief,-rub her with his shirt sleeves,— and give her a thousand benedictions during whole hours that he remained talking to her. 'My eyes!' would he say to her, my soul! my heart! must I be so unfortunate as to have thee sold to so many masters, and not keep thee myself? I am poor, my antelope! brought thee up in my dwelling, as my child. I did never beat nor chide thee; I caressed thee in the proudest manner. God preserve thee, my beloved! thou art beautiful, thou art sweet, thou art lovely! God defend thee from envious eyes!"

I

Sir Joan Malcolm gives two anecdotes to the same purpose, but of a more amusing nature.

"When the envoy, returning from his former mission, was encamped near Bagdad, an Arab rode a bright bay mare of extraordinary shape and beauty before his tent, until he attracted his attention. On being asked if he would sell her. What will you give me?' was the reply: That depends upon her age; I suppose she is past five?' Guess again,' said he.Four?' 'Look at her mouth,' said the Arab, with a smile. On examination she was found to be rising three. This, from her size and symmetry, greatly enhanced her value. The envoy said, I will give you fifty toman' (a coin nearly of the value of a pound sterling). 'A little more, if you please,' said the fellow, apparently entertained. Eighty. A hundred.' He shook his head and smiled. The offer at last came to two hundred tomans! Well,' said the Arab, 'you need not tempt me further; -it is of no use. You are a rich elchee (nobleman). You have fine horses, camels, and mules, and, I am told, you have loads of silver and gold. Now,' added he, you want my mare; but you should not have her for all you have got." "

"An Arab sheick or chief, who lived within fifty miles of Bussorah, had a favorite breed of horses. He lost one of his best mares, and could not, for a long while, discover whether she was stolen or had strayed. Some time after, a young man of a different tribe, who had long wished to marry his daughter, but had always been rejected by the sheick, obtained the lady's consent and eloped with her. The sheick and his followers pursued, but the lover and his mistress, mounted on one horse, made a wonderful march, and escaped. The old chief swore that the fellow was either mounted upon the devil, or the favorite mare he had lost. After his return, he found the latter was the case; that the lover was the thief of his mare as well as his daughter; and that he stole the one to carry off the other. The chief was quite gratified to think he had not been beaten by a mare of another breed; and was easily reconciled to the young man, in order that he might recover the mare, which appeared an object about which he was more solicitous than about his daughter."

One of our own countrymen, the enterprising traveller, major Denham, affords us a pleasing instance of the attachment with which the docility and sagacity of the horse may inspire the owner. He thus relates the death of his favorite Arabian, in one of the most desert spots of Central Africa. His feelings needed no apology. We naturally honor the man in whom true sensibility and undaunted courage, exerted for useful purposes, were thus united.

"There are a few situations in a man's life in which losses of this nature are felt most keenly; and this was one of them. It was not grief, but it was a mething very nearly approaching

to it; and though I felt ashamed of the degre of derangement I suffered from it, yet it was several days before I could get over the loss. Let it, however, be remembered that the poor animal had been my support and comfort,nay, I may say, companion, through many a dreary day and night;-had endured both hunger and thirst in my service; and was so docile that he would stand still for hours, in the desert, while I slept between his legs, his body affording me the only shelter that could be obtained from the powerful influence of a noon-day sun,-he was yet the fleetest of the fleet, and ever foremost in the chase."

Our horses would fare badly on the scanty nourishment afforded the Arabian. The mare usually has but one or two meals in twentyfour hours. During the day she is tied to the door of the tent, ready for the Bedouin to spring, at a moment's warning, into the saddle; or she is turned out before the tent, ready saddled, the bridle merely taken off, and so trained that she gallops up immediately at her master's call. At night she receives a little water; and with her scanty provender of five or six pounds of barley or beans, and sometimes a little straw, she lies down, content, in the midst of her master's family. She can, however, endure great fatigue; she will travel fifty miles without stopping; she has been pushed, on emergency, one hundred and twenty miles, and, occasionally, neither she nor her rider has tasted food for three whole days.

To the Arabian, principally, England is indebted for her improved and now unrivalled breed of horses for the turf, the field, and the road.

ON THE USEFULNESS OF PUGILISM.

Of late years, it has been so much the cant of the puritanical part of society to run down the SPORTS and AMUSEMENTS of the people of England; and also, if possible, not only to reduce them in their manly spirit and character, but to change their good old habits and feelings into a strait-haired race of impostors and hypocrites. Perish the thought' We hope, nay we feel assured, that we shali never see the arrival of that day, when the TRUE COURAGE of Britons will be frittered down into mere dandyism, so conspicuous to "resent an injury," or "to forgive an insult" and which have rendered the British flag triumphant, both in our fleets and armies, all over the world.

The following opinion of that enlightened senator the late Right Hon. W. Windham, who so animatedly delivered his sentiments in parliament in favor of the sports and amusements of the people of England, is a complete answer to all the cant and humbug in opposition to it: "True courage," said Mr. Windham, "does not arise from mere boxing from the mere beating or being beaten,

but from the SENTIMENTS excited by the contemplation and cultivation of such practices." In support of which doctrines may be added, the undaunted and persevering traits of a SHAW (the life-guardsman and pugilistic champion) at the memorable epoch in the history of nations, the great battle at Waterloo, so pointedly described by that illustrious poet, Anacreon Moore :

"Oh, shade of the cheesemonger! you who, alas! Doubled up by the dozen those Mounseers in brass,

On that great day of milling when blood lay in lakes, When KINCS held the bottle, and EUROPE the stakes!"

"I was preparing to say 'Good night,' after handing the young lady down stairs at the Opera House, when her brother, with the pleasant freedom of an old acquaintaince, pressed me to take a sandwich in St. James's Street, and as his sentiments, as far as they had been communicated, agreed with mine, I accepted his invitation with the same frankness with which it was made. The female between us, we proceeded along Pall Mall; and turning up St. James's Street, two men, apparently in a state of intoxication, reeled out of an entry, and attempted to seize hold of the lady, who at that moment was unguarded on the right hand, her brother being a few paces in the rear. The street, as far as we could distinguish, was unoccupied, not even the voice of a watchman interrupted the solemn silence; but the moon shone with resplendent lustre, and my new friend, alarmed by his sister's screams, with the swiftness of a feathered Mercury, flew along the pavement, and with one blow, laid the foremost of our assailants in the kennel. I was the more surprised at this, because his stature did not exceed five feet, and from the view I had of him, I was not prepared for uncommon strength. Our enemies were seemingly tall, raw-boned coal-heavers, and though one of them was for the moment rendered incapable, our case appeared so desperate, that to the lady's cries, I added a call for the watch; but my companion, nothing daunted, bade me take care of his sister, and fear nothing: for,' continued he, "if I cannot manage such rascals as these, I deserve to be d-d.' The second ruffian, seeing his fellow on the ground, resumed his sobriety, and aimed a blow at me, but in so clumsy a manner, that I not only avoided it, but preserved my fair charge from harm; on which our little champion rushed forward, received the blow on the point of his elbow, and returned another in the pit of the stomach, which so staggered the wretch, that he reeled several paces, and finally tumbled headlong into an area, at least three yards deep. What I have employed so many words in relating was the work of a moment. Having taught his foes to bite the ground, our skilful champion seized hold of his sister's disengaged arm, and not suffering the grass to grow under our feet, we arrived in safety at his house.

"This anecdote will, I think, establish the USEFULNESS OF PUGILISM; had my friend been as little knowing in the science as his adversaries, very dreadful might have been the consequences, because might in that case would have overcome right, unless the fellows would have had patience to wait till he ran home for his sword; and then, indeed, he might have killed them in a gentleman-like

manner.

"Every thing has its uses and its abuses. But, though this be granted, shall we neglect the use, because it may possibly bring the abuse along with it! I have heard declaimers against the science of bruising say, 'that a knowledge of SELF-DEFENCE makes people quarrelsome.' If I may speak, from very limited experience, I think the contrary. I was well acquainted with PERRINS, and never in my life saw a more harmless, quiet, inoffensive being. I have the pleasure of knowing GULLEY :-yes, reader-the pleasure! I would rather know him than many Sir Byllis and Sir Dillys, and he is neither quarrelsome, turbulent, nor overbearing.

"One evening, I accompanied honest JACK EMERY to a tavern in Carey-street, kept by JOHN GULLEY. As we passed along, Emery said, You conceive, I dare say, Romney, that I am going to introduce you into a society of rogues and pick-pockets, and if you can compound for the loss of your purse and handkerchief, it will be a lucky escape; but rest assured you are mistaken-Gulley's house is, of course, open to all descriptions, but the majority of his customers are people of reputation and respectability.'

"This account, I confess, was some relief to my mind, where a considerable degree of prejudice existed against prize-fighters, and the houses they frequent. GULLEY was unfortunately from home, but CRIB, the champion of England, was officiating as his locum-tenens, and handing about pots of porter and grog with persevering industry. Mrs. GULLEY, a neat little woman, civil and attentive, superintended the business of the bar; where, through Emery's interest, for I found he was in high favor, we obtained leave to sit. CRIB uncorked and decanted, but could not give us his company (which to me, as a novitiate in such scenes, would have been a treat) owing to the business of the house, which he seemed to pursue much to its master's interest. CRIB, who had obtained popularity by his prowess, was originally a coal-heaver, and has several brothers in the same employment: he is sturdy and stout built, about five and twenty, stands five feet eight inches, clumsy in appearance, rather hard featured, with a profile not unlike Cooke the tragedian. He is, I believe, a good-natured, quiet fellow, and after we had detained him a few minutes in conversation, “Well," said Emery, "what do you think of the greatest man in his way, or perhaps any other can boast? for GULLET has altogether declined the business."

"Why, to speak the truth, notwithstanding your caution, I expected, in a house kept and frequented by boxers, to have seen nothing but blackguards, and to have heard nothing but blasphemy; but I am so pleasingly deceived, and so comfortably situated, that I believe this will not be the last visit I shall pay Mrs. GULLEY.'"-Riley's Itinerant.

LORD BYRON'S TASTE FOR BOXING. Among the least romantic (says his Lordhip's biographer, Mr. Moore), perhaps, of the exercises in which he took delight was that of boxing or sparring. This taste it was that, at a very early period, brought him acquainted with the distinguished professor of that art, Mr. Jackson, for whom he continued through life to entertain the sincerest regard, -one of his latest works containing a most cordial tribute, not only to the professional, but social qualities of this sole prop and ornament of pugilism. During his stay at Brighton this year, Jackson was one of his most constant visitors, the expense of the professor's chaise thither and back being always defrayed by his noble patron. He also honored with his notice, at this time, D'Egville, the balletmaster, and Grimaldi, to the latter of whom he sent, as I understand, on one of his benefit nights, a present of five guineas.

Having been favored by Mr. Jackson with copies of the few notes and letters, which he has preserved out of the many addressed to him by Lord Byron, I shall here lay before the reader one or two, which bear the date of the present year, and which, though referring to matters of no interest in themselves, give, perhaps, a better notion of the actuaĺ life and habits of the young poet, at this time, than could be afforded by the most elaborate, and in other respects important correspondence. They will show, at least, how very little akin to romance were the early pursuits and associates of the author of Childe Harold, and, combined with what we know of the still less romantic youth of Shakspeare, prove how unhurt the vital principle of genius can preserve itself even in atmospheres apparently the most ungenial and noxious to it.

TO MR. JACKSON.

"N. A. Notts, Sept. 18, 1808. "Dear Jack,-I wish you would inform me what has been done by Jekyll, at No. 40, Sloane-square, concerning the pony I returned as unsound.

"I have also to request you will call on Louch at Brompton, and inquire what the devil he meant by sending such an insolent letter to me at Brighton; and at the same time tell him I by no means can comply with the charge he has made for things pretended to be damaged.

"Ambrose behaved most scandalously about the pony. You may tell Jekyll if he does not refund the money, I shall put the

affair into my lawyer's hands. Five and twenty guineas is a sound price for a pony, and by if it costs me five hundred pounds, I will make an example of Mr. Jekyll, and that immediately, unless the cash is returned. "Believe me, dear Jack, &c.

However singular it may appear, it is true, that on the morning of the funeral of his mother, having declined following the remains himself, he stood looking, from the abbey door, at the procession, till the whole had moved off; then turning to young Rushton, who was the only person left besides himself, he desired him to fetch the sparring-gloves, and proceeded to his usual exercise with the boy. He was silent and abstracted all the time, and, as if from an effort to get the better of his feelings, threw more violence, Rushton thought, into his blows than was his habit; but, at last, the struggle seeming too much for him, he flung away the gloves, and retired to his room."

The late Lord Byron, to use a sporting phrase, “set-to" with the gloves better than most gentlemen, leaving noblemen entirely out of the question. He was fond of sparring as a science; he also admired it as a manly, noble art—an art that taught him the value of self-defence, and to support the true character of an Englishman,wit hout resorting to the aid of the dagger, pistol, ball, or any other deadly weapon. He was likewise attached to sparring as an exercise, in which he was well assured had its advantages towards the promotion of health, cheerfulness, and long life. His Lordship, like his poetry, always entered into the spirit of the thing;he viewed boxing as a national propensitya stimulus to true courage; and, like the most illustrious personage in the kingdom, he was not afraid of witnessing a fight in the prize ring. In setting-to, his lordship was never afraid of meeting the attack, but, on the contrary, he received with coolness from his antagonist, and returned upon his opponent with all the vigour and confidence of a master of the art. If his Lordship was not a DON JUAN in every part that he undertook, he nevertheless must be viewed in the character of a hero; a common-place situation in any department of life would not suit the enlarged mind of the author of "Childe Harold." Lord Byron saw things in a very different light from most other men; and, with all his errors, his premature death was an immense loss to his country. His Lordship soared above the humbug, sant, and prejudice of his day; and in the most laudable manner he exposed hypocrisy wherever it crossed his path, and, rather unlike the "privileged order" to which he belonged, he appeared quite at his ease, and made himself as comfortable and agreeable in the humble dwelling of an acquaintance to those he saw around him as if he had been sojourning in the loftiest palace in the kingdom. Lord Byron admired abili'y