refer to hunting and
shooting; it has a wide application, and it describes in a generic way
a number of pursuits which are, to say the least, not improving to those
who engage in them.

The royal sport is of course horse-racing; and about that amusement--in
its present aspect--I may have something profitable to say. The
advocates of racing inform us that the noble sport improves the breed of
horses, and affords wholesome relaxation to men; they grow quite
indignant with the narrow Puritans who talk "stuff" about
demoralization, and they have numerous fine phrases referring to old
England and the spirit of our fathers. All the talk concerning the
improving influence of the Turf on horses and men is pernicious
nonsense, and there is an end of the matter. The English thoroughbred is
a beautiful creature, and it is pleasant enough to see him make his
splendid rush from start to finish; amusing also is it to watch the
skill of the wiry manikins who ride; the jockeys measure every second
and every yard, and their cleverness in extracting the last ounce of
strength from their horses is quite curious. The merest novice may enjoy
the sight of the gay colours, and he cannot help feeling a thrill of
excitement when the thud, thud of the hoofs sounds near him as the
exquisite slender animals fly past. But the persons who take most
interest in races are those who hardly know a horse from a mule. They
may make a chance visit to a racecourse, but the speed and beauty of the
animals do not interest them in any way; they cannot judge the skill of
a rider; they have no eye for anything but money. To them a horse is
merely a name; and, so far from their racing pursuits bringing them
health, they prefer staying in a low club or lower public-house, where
they may gamble without being obliged to trouble themselves about the
nobler animals on which they bet.

The crowd on a racecourse is always a hideous spectacle. The class of
men who swarm there are amongst the worst specimens of the human race,
and, when a stranger has wandered among them for an hour or so, he feels
as though he had been gazing at one huge, gross, distorted face. Their
language is many degrees below vulgarity; in fact, their coarseness can
be understood only by people who have been forced to go much amongst
them--and that perhaps is fortunate. The quiet stoical aristocrats in
the special enclosures are in all ways inoffensive; they gamble and
gossip, but their betting is