" THE COTTESMORE IN 1826." 43 



the owners of which were Captain Ross and Lord 

 Kennedy. There are some remaining who remember 

 this noted race, and, with myself, would be inclined to 

 say, in the words of the song, " Oh could those days 

 but come again," for they were good old days, but 

 perhaps not so outrageously fast as those of the present 

 generation. 



Thus ends the story of wearing red coats at dinner. 

 There seems in these days to be a mighty revolution 

 in the feelings of the present race of gentlemen, not 

 only as to politics and other weighty matters, upon 

 which I have nothing to say, but there does seem to 

 me a matter, which, as I am speaking of hunting, 

 deserves I humbly think some comment. A gentle- 

 man, we all are aware, is and ever will be a gentleman, 

 " provided he behaves as sich," to the end of time, 

 and whether he comes out hunting in a red coat, a 

 black coat, or a shooting coat, and knickerbockers and 

 long stockings or gaiters, provided the blood that 

 circulates (which it is sure to do out hunting) within 

 his veins is gentle, and which entitles him to wear a 

 red coat, not only for the sake of his personal appear- 

 ance, but also for the smart look that it gives to the 

 field, and I may say is a kind of respect to the hounds 

 he hunts with. In days gone by none but gentlemen 



