176 THE NOBLE SCIENCE. 



mals, possessing one tithe of the sagacity of foxhounds, 

 be expected to make an effort to do for themselves 

 what is always done for them ?— -" Finis coronat opus," — 

 and it is true, that there is no finish comparable to a 

 good kill; but the loss of a fox is infinitely preferable 

 to his murder, which forms no part of " the Noble Sci- 

 ence." Our fox, however, is worth a million of dead 

 ones — forward again to the chase. He was viewed on 

 yon hill amongst the haulm-cocks, toihng leisurely 

 along, not as yet " with faltering steps and slow," but 

 with a measured gait, as though husbanding his re- 

 sources for the way before him. For one moment he 

 paused, and sate, with ears erect, listening to ascertain 

 the proximity of his foes ; one sidelong glance behind, 

 and onward, like a guilty thing, he moves — 



" Hah! yet he flies. 



Nor yields to black despair." 



With redoubled energy he flies — he feels the press, the 

 persevering stanchness, which galls more than the fleet- 

 ness of the burst distressed him. He seems to know that 

 every instant is of vital consequence. 



We are now streaming on, across the fallows and old 

 clover lay, in a manner which elicits exclamations of 

 delight. " What care we for grass, if we can run thus 

 over plough ?" " What a beautiful thing !" exclaims an- 

 other. — " The run of the season," cries a third. — " They 



