132 THE NOBLE SCIENCE. 



Dibdin, in the poem from which I have more than once 

 found occasion to make quotations ; inasmuch as it is 

 unhappily far less in accordance with the poetical 

 license of fiction, than with sad reaUty. — When he will 

 carry you no longer well with hounds, do not make him 

 a drudge ; send him to the kennel, save him a world of 

 woe by having him shot, and devoting his carcase to 

 the boiling-house. There can be no objection to giving 

 him a few years run in park or paddock, if you have 

 them convenient, provided that his life is not pro- 

 tracted beyond the power of enjoying it ; and a mare 

 may, perhaps, breed clever stock long after she has 

 retired from service : but if you consign them to the 

 work of the farm, or road, and should lose sight of 

 them, — the pride of your stable, the horse that has 

 borne you faithfully, that has gained glory, as well 

 for his master as himself — the favoured of all favour- 

 ites—may end his days in the manner thus too justly 

 described :~ 



" Till at length having labour'd, dnulg'd early and late, 

 Bow'd down b)' degrees, he bends on to his fate — 

 Blind, old, lean and feeble, he tugs round a mill, 

 Or draws sand till the sand of his hour-glass stands still- 

 And now, cold and lifeless, exposed to the view, 

 In the very same cart which he yesterday drew. 

 While a pitying crowd his sad relics surrounds. 

 The high-nicttled racer is sold for the hounds." 



Although last, and, perhaps, least to be considered, in 



