University of Virginia Library

In the Lives of the Saints, we are informed that Hubert, the hunter, became a convert to fasting and prayer, from a stag's appearing before him, while following the sports of the field, with a crucifix between his antlers. As to the truth of this legend the writer knows nothing; but, at the same time, conceives, that were such deer more common in the present day, they might deter many fools from acts of cruelty, which too forcibly bring to recollection the beautiful cogitations of Jacques on the wounded stag, in Shakspeare's As you like it.

That a lover of field sports may not want for a dinner, after one of these hard runs, I would advise him to adopt the plan of the Huns, who, according to Ammianus Marcellinus.

“Hunii semicruda cujusvis pecoris carne vescuntur, quam inter femora sua et equorum terga subsertam, fotu calefaciunt brevi.—Or, to quote Butler:

Although the poet, in the above line, has conveyed. a most bitter sarcasm on the amateurs of the chase, we cannot but reflect with pain on the untimely end of the late amiable and refined Marquis of Tavistock, whose death was occasioned by a fall from his horse while hunting, which melancholy event soon occasioned also the demise of his no less amiable lady. Nor can the writer but reflect with sorrow on the dreadful effects which the same diversion has produced in the person of the present Lord D*rh*st: not to mention innumerable other instances of a similar nature, of which there are living testimonies, who are not only rendered objects to the view of others, but are an unceasing burden to themselves.

It has been the misfortune of the writer to experience what is termed, a good chase; and never were his feelings more shocked than to witness the piercing cries of the timid hare, when the ravenous hounds darted on their inoffensive prey. As to the much vaunted music of a pack, it may do very well for gentlemen, whose ears are enamoured of no softer tones than those which resound from the blacksmith's hammer, or the united brayings of a dozen asses. But for the writer, who rather pretends to have a little music in his soul, he is so tasteless on the score of yelping curs, as to find in the sounds nothing but dissonance and vile harshness. As the annotator has been speaking of cruelty, he cannot but add a few words on the score of cocking, which generally claims the attention of sportsmen; than which no pursuit can possibly prove more repugnant to the mind of feeling and sensibility; and when it is remembered that the great cockfighter, Mr. Ardesoif, in revenge for his bird having lost him a main, literally roasted the unfortunate creature alive, it will not be said, that the poet has overstretched the bounds of truth in speaking of the callosity of those minds which are swayed by pursuits of this nature.