314 NIMROD'S HUNTING TOUR 



quite a master-man in the field ; and, as the best hands generally 

 are, free from either presumption or conceit. 



Mr. Alexander Macdonald is one of the quick ones ; and as his 

 horses are all thorough-bred, and his nerves thorough good, it will 

 take a very quick man to beat him. But he is good at everything, 

 and is popular everywhere. His brother-in-law. Lord Hopetoun, 

 also goes a great pace for his weight, and has one most extra- 

 ordinary hunter in his stud. He has all the strength, and indeed 

 some of the appearance, of a waggon horse, but is as fast as the 

 wind, and can jump anything. His Lordship puts him along at a 

 merry pace. 



Although the heroes of poetry must be exalted somewhat above 

 the level of ordinary men, yet fault has been found with Virgil, for 

 uniting too many perfections in one man — for then he becomes a 

 prodigy, and all interest ceases. This is the case with his hero 

 ^iieas. On every occasion, save his amour with Dido (but what 

 man of gallantry could have done less?), he calls him ^wo?ts, and 

 makes him appear quite equal with the gods. Let me then beware 

 how I fall into this extreme in describing such a man as Tom 

 Hodgson. True it is, his being a master of fox-hounds, and hunting 

 them himself, goes a great way with me, and I should like to add 

 one feather to his plume ; but really that plume is full. All who 

 know him are unanimous in his praise : every one renders him this 

 homely homage — Tom Hodgson is, all over, a man. 



Speaking of ^neas, and speaking of piety, w4iy should not my 

 hero be styled pious ? Among my fox-hunting friends I know of no 

 one so steady to church as Tom Hodgson : he is really what old 

 Leech would have called a church glutton ; for he is not content with 

 morning service on Sundays, but often attends again when the lamps 

 are lit. Now too much of a good thing is worth nothing, and it is 

 possible a man may have too much church. Even devotion itself 

 will now and then require rest ; and, as Dean Swift has told us, 

 people will sometimes sleep in their pews while the parson is 

 dreaming in his pulpit. Thus it was with the Master of the 

 Holderness when I was at Beverley. " Do you take Vengeance 

 out to-day? " said I to him on the morning of the Monday we met 

 at Elton. " Why, no," replied he ; " / settled tliat 'point last night 



