J. F. HERRING, ESQ.

ENGRAVED BY J. B. HUNT, FROM A PAINTING BY W. BETHAM.

There are few men, perhaps, more generally or favourably known in what is called" the sporting world" than the subject of our present notice. On the turf, particularly, the talent and conduct of Mr. Herring have gradually gained for him a position almost as official as that which Mr. Clarke holds in the chair, or Mr. Weatherby over the matchbook. It is from his hand that we have the history of the British turf, carried on in its most attractive, if not indeed in its most conclusive, form. As the workings on tapestry, the rude paintings of incidents, and illustrations on records have frequently been found of more service in research than even manuscripts themselves, so Herring's series of winners may give after-generations a better idea of what the turf once was than the most careful study of the calendar could afford them. Racing, in fact, has generally had an acknowledged historian of this character, and Mr. Herring but continues what Stubbs, Gilpin, Boultby, Sartorious, down to Marshall, were at their several eras engaged on. It is now just twenty years since the portrait of the last-named-Ben Marshall, the animal-painter of his day, was given in "The Sporting Magazine," while we here follow it with that of a gentleman who has proved himself in every way qualified to be the other's successor.

Mr. Herring, born in Surrey in 1795, is now consequently in the fifty-third year of his age. His father-an American by birth, but descended from Dutch parents, a people who have contributed much to the advancement of art-was in business in the city of London, where the son spent the first eighteen years of his life. Not, however, having been apprenticed, and so being ineligible, in case of his father's demise, to work in any other shop in the trade, he began to think of some other means of making his way in the world, while the bent of his genius had already strongly developed itself. At every possible opportunity, from the time he was first sent to school, the young artist was sure to be found with either a whip or a pencil in his hand-a brace of instruments which, worked one with the other, laid the foundation for his future fame. The fate of empires, it is said, has often depended on the merest trifles: the fortunes of our rejected citizen followed his wishes at that time, and went by the coach. The "Royal Leeds Union" passed his father's door every morning, and, seeing "Doncaster" painted on one door, to Doncaster Mr. Herring determined to go, though without the least motive or inducement for the selection, beyond the desire of settling in some place where he would enjoy a fair market for his labour. Singularly enough, he arrived there during the races, found himself on a course for the first time in his life, and in time to see the Duke of Hamilton's William win the St. Leger. The right chord was struck home at once the silken coats of the horses and satin jackets of the jockeys gave him a pleasure in contemplating them he had never before expe

rienced, and back he went to his lodgings, "turf-struck," to try his hand at a representation of the scene which had made so vivid an impression upon him. But natural genius alone was unequal to the task, and so for awhile succumbed to the difficulties of the subject, from the want of her twin-sister art to teach the young idea how to carry out her intentions.

Though repulsed, our adventurer was not disgusted with the brush, and chance soon showed him one yet more perplexed in wielding it than he himself had been. In wandering through the town, where he was uninterested and unknown, he one morning came upon a coachmaker's painting-shop, before which, with the influence of whip or brush still upon him, he stopped almost involuntarily. The widely-opened doors discovered a young man busily engaged in attempting to give the proper pride of the boot to a new coach, the "Commander-in-Chief," his aim being an equestrian portrait of the Duke of Wellington, to be fashioned after one of Alken's sketches. It was in vain, however, that he essayed on the proportions of the horse; he had never painted one before; and so when on a second visit young Herring entered into conversation with him, and offered to try his hand, his aid was gladly accepted, and the pencil given up to him for the outline. This was quickly achieved, and with so much satisfaction to his new acquaintance, that he was asked to colour it also. While thus engaged in completing the figure the master entered, and being at once struck with the ability of the stranger, employed him, after a brief interview, to paint the insignia of the "Royal Forester," another coach he was then building, viz., a white lion on one door and a rein-deer on the other. These also being finished, with equal credit, the new painter took a seat side by side with Mr. Wood, a proprietor, who, with others, got up for a ride to "prove" the springs and christen the drag. The introduction thus made led to Mr. Herring paying a visit to the coach-office, where, hearing one of the men on the Wakefield road was about to give up driving, he determined upon asking his new friend, the proprietor, for the vacant seat. Mr. Wood, naturally enough perhaps, laughed at the notion of a painter driving a four-horse coach, and openly told the applicant that, as the owners were mainly responsible for the doings of their men, he didn't think such a thing would answer; still, on being assured that, unless the would-be coachman himself had been fully satisfied of his competency, he would not have asked for the place, a trial was granted on the "Highflyer," depending on the verdict of the up and down coachmen of the day fixed. Their report was altogether favourable, and the following Monday opened a new and perhaps the first set-scene in the life of Mr. Herring, when he donned the frock-coat, top-boots, and low-crowned hat of the charioteer of those times, and commenced his career as pilot of the Wakefield and Lincoln "Nelson" coach.

On this road he continued nearly two years, obtaining a tolerable living for himself and his wife (for he had married during that period), and having much leisure to devote to that nobler pursuit which he has since made his profession. His efforts, however, in no way attracted or courted publicity, as he destroyed or painted over nearly everything he produced, and it was not until his removal to an entirely new line-from Doncaster to Halifax, by way of Barnsley and Huddersfield-that his talent as an artist became at all to be appreciated. It was here, while engaged in his daily