SHROPSHIRE 195 



by not asking any questions. Our worthy host could not help 

 larking with some of these, and, amongst other tricks, crept under 

 Oswestry's belly. " He will do that once too often," said William 

 Dilly, with a sigh. " Eight, Mr. Dilly," said I ; " and good- 

 tempered as your Oaks filly is, if once she get alarmed, she will 

 knock out Mr. Mytton's brains." Joking apart, this is what is 

 called on the turf " giving away a chance ; " but John Mytton will 

 be John Mytton : "he heareth not the voice of the charmer, charm 

 he never so wisely;" and, like Homer's divinities, is always in 

 mischief. 



We next visited the kennel, where we saw about thirty couples of 

 bounds. What to call them I know not : some were as big as my 

 yard dog, and here and there a rieat little bitch ; and whether to call 

 them fox-hounds, harriers, or stag-hounds, would take a better judge 

 than me. This was all very well ; but we were next favoured with 

 another sight, not quite so agreeable to Sir Bellingham. This was 

 no less than five brace of foxes, to be turned out before this non- 

 descript pack. But for this, I should say that the Squire of 

 Halston, with all his larking, would get to Heaven after all ; but I 

 know not what to think about the hag. It is one of the worst 

 crimes we fox-hunters know of, and requires hard penance.* 



I have one more anecdote of this extraordinary man. During my 

 visit to Sir Bellingham, Mr. Mytton dined with him twice. On one 

 occasion, the night being very dark, the post-boy conducted him 

 into a meadowy instead of taking a short turn in the road ; and after 

 driving him around it a great many times, without being able to find 

 his way out, he left him there comfortably asleep in his carriage, 

 whilst he came back to Sir Bellingham's for a lanthorn. As the 



* We are often reminded that no man is a prophet in his own country ; but 

 it is no bad sign when his character stands fairest in his own neighbourhood. 

 This, without any humbug, is the case with the Squire of Halston. He gives 

 two bushels of wheat every week to the poor, and employs nearly fifty of them 

 the year through. Charity, we ax-e told, covereth a multitude of sins ; but he 

 has one other saving clause : he is no hypocrite ! It can never be said of him 

 when he is gone, that — 



" So smooth he daubed his vice with show of virtue. 



That his apparent guilt omitted, 



He lived from all attainder of suspect." 



