as Slough, on the intended excursion to Stoke, and then
turn off to the left; but as the Whip Club, at the period in question,
attracted a large share of public attention in the metropolis, perhaps
a short notice of it may be here permitted, as it has been long since
defunct, and is never again likely to be revived, now that steam and
iron horses have taken the road.

The vehicles, horses, trappings, and gearing, were the most elegant
and expensive that money could command; and it was a rare thing to see
upward of twenty such equipages, which, as well as the housings of the
horses, were emblazoned with heraldric devices, and glittering all
over with splendid silver and gold ornaments.

The open carriages were all filled with the loveliest of England's
lovely women, who generally congregated together at an early
breakfast, or what with them was considered an early breakfast,
between ten and eleven o'clock! The meet took place at the house of
Lord Hawke, in Portman Square. His lordship was high admiral, or
president, Sir Bellingham Graham, whipper-in--and courteously and
cleverly did Sir Bellingham (or Bellinjim, as it is pronounced)
perform his delicate duty. When each driver mounted his box, after
handing in the ladies, it was wonderful to observe with what
dexterity, ease, and order, all wheeled into line, when the leader,
with a flourish of his long whip--being the signal for which all were
watching--led off the splendid array.

It was a gay sight to witness the start, as they swept round the
square--for the horses were one and all of pure blood, and
unparalleled for beauty, symmetry, and speed.

To one unaccustomed to such a sight, it might appear somewhat
dangerous. The fiery impatience of the horses--their pawing and
champing, the tossing of their beautiful heads, and the swan-like
curving of their glittering, sleek necks, until they were fairly
formed into order--at which time they knew just as well as their
owners that _the play_ was going to begin. But it was perfectly
delightful to observe the graceful manner in which each pair laid
their small heads and ears together when fairly under way, beating
time with their highly polished hoofs--pat, pat, pat, pat, as true as
the most disciplined regiment marching to a soul-stirring quick step,
or a troupe of well-trained ballet girls, bounding across the stage of
the Italian Opera.

When fairly off and skimming along the road, it was, perhaps, as
animating a sho