the Chief Commissioners of Works, The Ditto of Police, and to "George" Ranger.
Why not open up rides in Kensington Gardens? Say one good one under the trees from South-West to North-West, and connect Kensington with Bayswater? Will any benefactor to unfortunate Metropolitan Equestrians force this North-West passage?
There is a meagre ride at the side of the road in the Inner Circle, Regent's Park. Why not a good ride right across Park? From considerable observation and experience of Kensington Gardens and Regent's Park, it may be confidently asserted, that such rides as are here proposed, would not interfere with the comfort of a single (or married) nurse or governess with children in her charge. Both places are comparatively unfrequented, and the proposed rides would not infringe upon the recreation of the London boys.
We strongly recommend the Chief Commissioner to visit Paris, and, mounted upon a comfortable horse, let him make the acquaintance of the delightful sentiers laid out as rides in the Bois de Boulogne. This will be a first-rate French exercise for him, and he will learn a great deal from it. The Duke, who is fond of equitation, especially in Battersea Park, must admit that the equestrians of London are very badly off for variety. Up and down Rotten Row, once into the siding by the Barracks, once to the dismal ride on the North side, and once back again by the ride that opens on to the Mausoleum-like Magazine,—which of all London Magazines is the dreariest,—this, and only this, is the daily burden of the patient London rider's song. "How long? How long?" as Mr. Wilson Barrett used to be always exclaiming in The Silver King, or Claudian, or both. How long—will mounted London put up with this, which is the reverse of a merry-go-round?
Then we have to be thankful for the small mercy of a narrow strip of a ride, barely room for one, along Constitution Hill, and for that other strip, a trifle wider, in Birdcage Walk, which is always crowded with children, and one might as well be riding through nursery grounds. Why shouldn't there be here a cut right across the grass, from The Walk of the Birdcages to middle of Piccadilly?
If George Ranger, the Chief Commissioner of Police, and the Chief of the Board of Works would combine, we might get something done which would benefit the riders—riders haggard and jaded—and materially assist the smallest circulation (possessed by those who ride to live) in the world. There is one thing that ought to be put down, and put down with a strong hand,—and that is plenty of gravel at all the gates; but especially round and about the Marble Arch, which is a most dangerously slippery pass.
THE "SILK" EXHIBITION.
