THE POACHING FRATERNITY 189 



and when the French land on our shores there ought 

 to be no lack of sharp-shooters, though I much question 

 if our poaching vagabonds would reHsh tr5dng their 

 hands at any larger game than hares, pheasants, or 

 partridges. In my time, I have become acquainted 

 with many of the poaching fraternity, but never yet 

 met with any of their profession who could be called a 

 brave man. The same may be said, perhaps, of the 

 general breakers of the law in other respects, — " Con- 

 science makes cowards of us all." Poachers, however, 

 when in a body together, and allowed time for deliberation, 

 do often commit cowardly and brutal attacks upon the 

 keepers and their watchers, when they have superiority 

 in numbers. Since the sale of game has become legahsed, 

 there is now little excuse for poaching, as the market 

 is constantly supplied from the large game preserves, 

 and by our hattue men, whose bloody exploits are so 

 pompously paraded in print. Slaying whole hecatombs 

 of hares, pheasants, and other game, with the sole object 

 of boasting who can destroy the greatest number of 

 lives within the shortest given space of time, never did, 

 and never will, come into the category of real sport. 

 The poet, when drawing a comparison between the 

 beasts of prey and lordly man, thus breaks forth i 



Not so the steady tyrant man, 



Who, with the thoughtless insolence of power. 



Inflamed beyond the most infuriate wrath 



Of the worst monster that e'er roamed the waste, 



For sport alone pursues the cruel chase, 



Amid the beamings of the gentle day ; 



Upbraid, ye ravening tribes, our wanton rage. 



For hunger kindles you, and lawless want ; 



But lavish fed, in nature's bounty rolled. 



To joy at anguish, and delight in blood. 



Is what your horrid bosom never knew. 



