IN THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY ii 



going fox of the olden time, after crossing twelve or 

 fourteen miles of country ? Not half a score. 



Fox-hunting in the last century was followed by genuine 

 old sportsmen, from real love of the chase, and everything 

 connected with it ; and how many instances could I 

 quote in support of this assertion ! Such as the fine old 

 Yorkshire Squire, George Kirton, who lived to the 

 patriarchal age of one hundred and twenty-five, and who, 

 after having followed the chase beyond his eightieth 

 year, regularly attended unkennelhng the fox till he had 

 attained his hundredth. Such as the Duke of Cleveland, 

 who during many years hunted his own hounds six days 

 a week, and who, when it was objected to his kennel, 

 that it was so near the house that the savour of the boiler 

 might sometimes find its way into it, replied that probably 

 it might, but that " all his family were too well bred to 

 fox-hunting to mind that." Such as an old medical man, 

 well known to the sportsmen of the last generation, who, 

 when a fox had been unfortunately caught in a trap set 

 in his garden for vermin, and had got its leg broken, took 

 infinite pains to set it, tended it with the utmost care 

 till it got well, and then, setting it at liberty, hunted and 

 killed it in the legitimate manner. But the old race is 

 gone, and hunting is now followed for fashion's sake — 

 our Nimrods of the nineteenth century know little, and 

 care less, about hunting or hounds. They go out for a 

 gallop, or to meet their friends at the covert side ; and 

 after a bit of a skurry, trot home about two or three 

 o'clock in the afternoon, perfectly satisfied. Well, if 

 they are satisfied, so are we, that they condescend to 

 give countenance to the national sport ; and it is far 

 better for them to ride even to the place of meeting, than 

 remain idle at home, or playing at a bilHard or card table 



