With a view to prevent interruption, and to gratify the “sporting nobs” of Newmarket, it was stipulated in the articles that the men should be in the ring between eight and nine o’clock a.m.――an arrangement which proved most judicious, although it shut out a numerous class to whom early rising and long trots of an autumnal morning are not agreeable. The whisper, which was anything but soft, of the forthcoming event, soon extended far and wide; and the arrivals from distant quarters at Newmarket proved that the office had been very extensively circulated and promptly obeyed――as the unusual muster of fighting nobs on Newmarket Heath, on the Monday, including all the _élite_ of the _corps pugilistique_, sufficiently evinced. During the night the contributions from the provinces increased; all the coaches passing through the town were loaded, and the clatter of fresh arrivals in various equipages proved the interest which had been excited. Unfortunately a fine day had been succeeded by a night of heavy rain, and the drenched appearance of the early birds, as they shook their feathers, fully sustained the established rule that there are few human amusements without alloy, or, as Sir G. Cornewall Lewis philosophically put it, “Life would be tolerable were it not for its pleasures.” Still, among the Fancy, these vicissitudes were of little moment, and were submitted to with becoming philosophy. The morning was not more propitious than the night, but there was, nevertheless, no lack of bustle in Newmarket; in fact, hundreds were seen in busy preparation for “the start,” and vehicles of every description were called into requisition, while all classes, from the Corinthian to the humble stable-boy, were full of lively anticipation. The troop of equestrians which went forth showed the excitement that prevailed, while the carriages, gigs, and carts which followed produced a cheerful commotion in the direction of the appointed fixture, which was about six miles from the town.