His Lordship had the credit of being a very good coachman, as will be seen from the few lines I venture to produce, which appeared in one of the sporting periodicals of that time:-- "See Chesterfield advance with steady hand, Swish at a rasper and in safety land, Who sits his horse so well, or at a race, Drives four in hand with greater skill or grace." No doubt, the "Taglioni" did take her share in the ordinary business of a public conveyance, and not, as in the present day, of carrying only parties on "pleasure bent," but it had a certain spice of the toy about it; and I should think did not much exercise the minds of Pears or Shepherd, who each had a coach on the same road. As a boy, I had an eye for a coach, and remember, as well as I remember old Keat's birch, seeing those two coaches pass through Eton. Shepherd's was a true blue coach, and travelled on the maxim of "Certain, though slow." Pears drove a coach painted chocolate with red undercarriage, and was altogether a smarter turn-out than the gentle Shepherd, and travelled somewhat faster, but, I believe, ran little chance of being run in for furious driving. Whilst I stand in fancy upon the classic ground of Eton, there arises before my sight a pageant, which for better or worse has now, like so many other antique customs, passed away never to be revived. I suppose this is a necessary accompaniment of the progress of the age, and that "Montem" could hardly have been carried on in the days of the boiling kettle. It would have been as easy to get blood out of a stone as _salt_ from a rushing train; besides which the present facilities of locomotion would have brought together an exceedingly miscellaneous gathering at Salt Hill, to say the least of it. Still it was a unique institution, and contained in it a very kindly feeling--that of giving a little start in the world to a youth who had attained the top rung of the college ladder, and was entering upon his university career. Most of the ways and doings of old Eton have found plenty of chroniclers. The institution in the library is never forgotten. The birch and the block always come in for their fair share of comment, but the triennial festival of "Montem" has, so far as I am aware, not received anything like the same amount of attention; and as I acted a part in two of them, both in blue and red, I will venture to intrude upon the patience of the reader whilst I make a short digression, emboldened thereto by the fact that Eton customs have already been handled, as well as the ribbons, in a book on coaching.