Equally characteristic, though illustrative of another point, is the breakfast room scene:

'It so happened that we were all-and a pretty large party-seated at the breakfast table when Lord Darlington (the present Duke of Cleveland) made his appearance. Next to the usual enquiries after his lordship's health, the question was asked by two or three at once, have you heard how Will is? (the whipper-in, who had had a bad fall the day before.) I have been to his bedside,» said Lord D.; he has had a restless night, nevertheless I hope he will do well; but he made me smile when he said he had no doubt but he should be able to go out with the hounds on Wednesday. He also enquired after Lightning's eyes, and how Rufus and Mortimer had fed.'»

⚫ Considering the Duke's acknowledged cultivation and accomplishments, he is one of the most remarkable living instances of the passion. During some years he hunted his own hounds regularly six days in the week. He had a change of clothes at all the principal inns within his hunt, to the nearest of which he always repaired after his sport was over; and putting himself into a chaise and four, ready dressed for the evening, a small fieldpiece at the lodge of his park announced his approach to the castle, and, by the time he arrived, dinner was upon the table.

The ruling passion 'strong in death' was never, we quite agree with Nimrod, more strongly exemplified than in Mr T. Shafto, a distinguished follower of the Raby hounds. He was on his way to Ireland with a sporting friend, when the captain of the vessel came down to their cabin, and informed them that all hope was over. Instead of giving vent to the ordinary exclamations of terror, he heaved a deep sigh, and thus apostrophized his companion in distress. I say Bob, no more Uckenby whin,» (a favourite covert within the hunt.)

It is impossible not to be struck by the distinguished place accorded to the clergy of the Established Church in the annals of fox-hunting. Thus, in the Duke of Cleveland's published diary, we find this entry: I cannot omit to mention that the Rev. J. M'., (the name at full length,) 'shone as cons'picuously this day on his grey mare as in the pulpit, and 'was alone with the hounds over Ainderby moors at the last, 'near Thornhill's willow-bed.'

Nimrod pays this handsome tribute to the merits of another clerical hero: The vicar of P. is no humbug. He sings a hunting song to his parishioners, tells them a good story at his tithe-feast, and gives them the best his house affords. His invitation to Sir Bellingham and myself, for the next time the hounds came that way, was rather unique. «My claret, said he, «is of the finest vintage; and if you will drink enough of it, it will make your eyes look like boiled ' gooseberries » Probably this was the gentleman to whom a facetious friend, after witnessing his appearance in the pulpit remarked, I like you better in bottle than in wood."

The medical profession furnishes its quota of enthusiasts, and many highly honourable traits are recorded of them. The following for example: - A medical gentleman, by the name of Hansted, residing near Newbury, ordered his gardener. to set a trap for some vermin that infested his garden. As ill luck would have it, a fox was found in the morning with his leg broken. On being taken to the doctor, he exclaimed, 'Why did you not call me up in the night, that I might have set the leg?' Better late than never: he did set the leg; the fox recovered; and was killed in due form, after a capital run.

A farmer within the limits of Mr Farquharson's hunt, being accused of killing a fox, was not allowed to dine at the farmer's ordinary until he had established his innocence.

There are two perfectly distinct principles on which foxhunting is upheld by its votaries; independently of its use in clearing the country of vermin, which is rendered somewhat problematical by the fact just mentioned. The one is its levelling tendency. It is a sort of Saturnalian amusement (says Nimrod,) in which all ranks and privileges are set aside; and he that has the best horse and the most nerve, takes the precedence for the day. A butcher's boy, upon a pony, may throw the dirt in the face of the first duke in the kingdom. This, though little thought of, is one of the many advantages arising from a land of liberty.' The other was expounded by Sir Hussey (now Lord) Vivian, during the gamelaw debate: 'I own I am proud of sporting; and the greatest commander the world ever had, has declared that he found

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the men who followed the hounds brave and valiant soldiers.'

This doctrine was much more pointedly expressed by an old writer: 'Who is so likely to gain a rampart, or mount an intrenchment, as he whose long practice hath been scaling the fortifications of meadows and inclosures? who, so proper to manage his horse with address and intrepidity in time of action, as he whose trade and occupation are leaping over five-bar gates, hedges, and stone-walls? Habit and experience qualify the fox-hunter for the sap or for the storm, to unkennel or to pursue long custom hath made him acquainted with all sorts of ground, with hills and valleys, morasses and deserts, streights and precipices; hath enabled him to excel in march or forage, in ambush or surprise, in advance or retreat. How common was it for champions like these to give terror to a squadron, or to make lanes among legions of Frenchmen! With what health and vigour did they then return home to the arms of their consorts! what hopeful, rosy, jolly branches were seen round their tables! What martial heroes, inheritors of their virtues and their valour, did they leave to their country!'

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Our ancestors derived a great part of their gratification from seeing their dogs work, and slow but sure' was a high commendation for a hound. Now, speed is the grand requisite ; and the height of a huntsman's ambition is not to exhibit his skill by a succession of knowing casts, or to show off the sagacity and mutual understanding of his pack, but to run his fox fifteen or sixteen miles, at the rate of twenty miles an hour, without a check. We have had a quick thing last week,' writes a Meltonian to his father; eight miles point blank, in twenty-six minutes. If I had not had a second horse posted (luckily) halfway, I could not have seen it.'

Another quick thing' is mentioned by Nimrod. He tells us that the horse he rode had just been winning hunter stakes -there were no impracticable fences in the way-and he only lost two or three minutes in getting round a wall; yet he never caught sight of the pack till he ascended a rising ground

from which he could just see them more than a mile ahead, running into their fox. When Shaw, the huntsman, came up, he pulled out his watch, and exclaimed. 'Beat two miles in twenty-two minutes by G- !'

When thus conducted, fox-hunting is little better than a steeple-chase; and a noble earl, highly distinguished in the sporting world, once naïvely owned that he thought the hounds ' a great bore;' which reminds us of the remark of a wellknown habitué of the opera-who attended it solely to gossip and pay visits-that it might be greatly improved by leaving out the singing. The hounds also seem to be of opinion, that, if nothing were wanted but a gallop across country, they could dispense with foxes; for M. Corbet's pack, a very celebrated one, ran a cur dog an hour, best pace, and killed him.' Nimrod assures us that this was not at all discreditable to them.

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To understand the degree of nerve required by a hard rider, it is necessary to bear in mind the nature of the country (Leicestershire) in which the chief performers have distinguished themselves. It abounds in brooks, and has the ordinary complement of rails, stiles, and gates; but the ox and bulfinch fences are its peculiar distinctions. The ox fence consists of, first, a wide ditch, then a sturdy blackthorn hedge, ahd, at least two yards beyond that, a strong rail, about four feet high. The bulfinch fence is a quickset hedge of perhaps fifty years' growth, with a ditch on one side or the other, and so high and strong that horses cannot clear it. The sportsman charging this at nearly full speed, succeeds in getting to the other side, when the bushes close after him and his horse, and there is no more appearance of their transit than if a bird had hopped through. (1) How he and his horse preserve their eyes, is a problem which the uninitiated are left to solve for themselves.

It must be admitted that as much contempt of danger may be shown in following hounds across obstacles of this kind, as in mounting a breach; and the publications before us,

(1) The Chase, The Turf, and The Road, p. 22.

Nimrod's in particular, abound with instances of extraordinary coolness, dogged determination, and intrepidity. Who can doubt for a moment that the gentleman commemorated in the following narrative, had he chanced to serve under Picton or Ponsonby at Waterloo, would have been found in the thickest of the fray ?—

'If I were asked who it was that had shown the greatest contempt for the consequence of a bad fall that ever came under my observation, I should have no hesitation in saying, it was a gentleman by the name of Stanhope, who was on a visit to Sir Bellingham Graham "when he hunted the Atherstone country. On the Friday his horse fell with him and hurt his shoulder, but nothing was broken or displaced. The consequence was, he came out on the following Monday with his arm in a sling. We found a fox in the finest part of Sir Bellingham's Leicestershire country, and killed in fifteen minutes, during which Mr. Stanhope was in a very good place. Having had the pleasure of meeting him a few evenings before at Sir Bellingham's, I asked him if he did not find it very awkward to ride with only one hand, when he assured me he found little difficulty with the horse he was then riding, as he was so very temperate, and had never given him a fall That is dangerous to boast of,» said I to him; and here the conversation ended. We found another fox, and killed. About the middle of it we came to a brook, which we all got well over with the exception of Stanhope, who unfortunately pitching on a turn in the bank, and disdaining to look, did not clear it, and his horse threw him with great violence on the opposite side. I saw him lying on the ground, apparently as dead as if he had been shot at Waterloo; and it was upwards of five minutes before he showed any signs of returning animation. On getting back to Sir Bellingham's house-having been blooded at Bosworth all necessary measures were taken, and the doctor would fain have persuaded Mr. Stanhope that some ribs were broken. He had a short husky cough, and two or three other directing symptoms which seldom mislead a skilful apothecary; but he resisted all such insinuations, and assured him he should be well in a few days; and the Quorn hounds coming within reach on the following Thursday, he went to meet them, still having his arm in a sling!

In the course of this day's sport, some of the party, among whom was Mr. Stanhope, got into a corner of a field, and were pounded. What is not very usual in this country, one of the hardest riders in England had dismounted, and was trying to pull off the top bar of a flight of rails, which did not otherwise appear practicable. «Let me try," said Mr. Stanhope, «I am on a good one. The sequel was, he rode at it and got a tremendous fall. On seeing him lying on