I02 THE ESSEX FOXHOUNDS. 



ardent sympathy. .Serious people, who look upon religion 

 as a matter of gloom, occasionally say to me, " How 

 wicked it is to hunt." No later than yesterday morning a 

 very great lady, whose name I will not mention, said to 

 me, " How very wicked it is of you to hunt a fox." 

 "What, madam," said I, "to see all my friends and neigh- 

 bours thronging round me to enjoy a manly, healthful 

 recreation — with happiness beaming upon every brow and 

 a smile upon every lip — how can that be wicked ? " The 

 lady seemed to feel the justice of my statement, but she 

 took advantage of my infirmity and told me that I swore 

 when I hunted. Well, perhaps I have done so before 

 now, but I told her what is the fact, that I nevertheless 

 retjard the swearing with as much disfavour as herself, 

 and so I do. Swearing is a vulgar and ungentlemanlike 

 habit. I oucjht to be ashamed of it, and so I am. I will 

 endeavour never to do so any more ; indeed, I have 

 almost taken an oath never to do such a thino- aofain. 

 But the fact is, a habit that one has contracted very 

 early in life is not very easy to be got rid of How- 

 ever, I can declare with all sincerity, that there is 

 not a serious person in the country who disapproves 

 of swearing more strongly than I do ; and I could 

 wish to impose a fine upon myself for every time that 



