The figure of the pupil is an important point in the matter. If she is naturally lithe and has been well suppled on foot, the task will be considerably easier. If, on the contrary, she is of a square figure--short in the neck and waist, and stiff in the shoulders--considerably more time is requisite. But with care, attention, and perseverance it can be acquired by all in early youth. I know a lady who rides with both dash and judgment with hounds who is anything but a good figure; but she began under proper tuition when she was very young, and, although no longer so, she has preserved the _souplesse_ and true balance acquired in her early days. Natural aptitude, too, is of great assistance to both master and pupil, and should be energetically developed by the former; at the same time, care should be taken that the pupil does not overrun her lessons. As an instance of what can be accomplished even at a first essay by a lady gifted with natural talent for riding, I cannot refrain from relating the following:--Some years ago I chanced to be at the school of a fashionable riding master in London, when a class of young ladies was going through a ride. In the gallery from which I was observing them was also the mother of one of the young ladies who was riding, and of another much younger, who was standing by her side watching with the most intense interest the riding below. The younger lady was not more than ten or eleven years old, but of a form and figure exactly fitted for performing well in the saddle, being tall of her age, and lithe and supple in her movements. She did not speak, but I could see from the excitement of her manner, the glitter of her large dark eyes, and her changing colour, that she was heart and soul with the fair equestrians. The ride finished with a leaping lesson, and there was some capital jumping over a gorsed bar, hurdles double and single, and an artificial brook. The last performance completely overcame the little spectator in the gallery. Bursting into a violent fit of sobbing and weeping, she clutched her mother's dress, and cried convulsively, "Dear mamma, let me ride, let me ride." The lady, quite surprised and very much affected by the emotion and excited state of the child, nevertheless, refused, declaring she was too young. But the young supplicant for equestrian honours was not to be denied; she continued to implore and weep, and, the riding master coming to her aid, the mother gave way. Her little daughter was put on a quiet horse, and the master himself led him round the school at a walk, but this by no means satisfied our ambitious little tyro. "Let me trot," she said; "I am sure I can trot." The professor was quite sure she could not, and told her so; and, to convince her, he started the horse trotting, and ran by his side. He was never more mistaken. The lessons the pupil had been witnessing from the gallery must have made a strong impression on her mind; for, to the