passing two royal residences by the way, first, that of Joseph
Buonaparte, and next a queer-looking, low, quadrangular building,
inhabited by one of the sons of Joachim Murat, ex-king of Naples. On
reaching the hospitable house to which I was bound at Princeton, I
encountered the prince, paying a visit to my friend Mr. T----n. He is a
tall, robust-looking personage, very fat, and fond of race-horses; but
has not, as I learn, been over-lucky on the turf.

One can never meet and contemplate any of these far-flung fragments of
Napoleon's mighty empire without reverting with renewed interest to the
founder of so much unlooked-for though brief greatness. Sheltered
beneath his Titan aegis these new-made monarchs flourished, and ruffled
it with the best of Europe's princes; until, grown vain of their fancied
power, they deserted their shield and shelter, leaving it to abide
unsustained the assault of an outraged world, and, whilst, forgetful of
their origin, seeking to stand alone, were shattered into atoms by its
fall!

What a capricious climate is this! On Tuesday the 27th of May, I rode
from Princeton to Brunswick, on a day as sultry as a July afternoon ever
is in England; the heavy showers of the 25th had so saturated the sandy
soil that no particle of dust could float, and the verdure of wood and
valley was bright and refreshing to look upon. Yet here we are in New
York, on the 28th, with large fires burning within, a north-east wind
blowing without, attended by alternate sleet and showers, with fog and
every other atmospheric misery most grievous to humanity. This sample of
"the spring-time of the year" continued tolerably regular until

_June 6th._--This day the sun is fairly on duty again. Rode to the
course on Long Island, the third day of the present meeting, to witness
a race which had called up North and South to arms. Trifle--a little
mare of Colonel Johnson's, the Nestor of the American turf--had come on
from Virginia to be entered against Shark, the property of Captain
Robert Stockton, about to run his first four-mile race, a horse much was
expected from. Alice Grey, the mare which I had seen beaten easily by
Trifle at the fall meeting, was the only other entry expected to be made
good; so that the thing was considered as a match between the two horses
first named. For the only time I saw ladies present in considerable
numbers, and was sorry that the gallantry of my sporting friends had not
provided them wit