Crude Hunting Pictures 107 



up, in continuous freshness of grouping, and constant relief 

 to the eye. The other — in full cry — all polished and 

 smooth and varnished as when they left the stable ; horses 

 with glossy coats, riders upright and fatigueless, dogs 

 clean, and not a sign of poaching on the turf. The dogs 

 are coming out of the water with their tails up and straight 

 — dogs as they trail their flanks out of a brook always, in 

 fact, droop their tails, while their bodies look smaller and 

 the curves project, because the water lays the hair flat to 

 the body till several shakes send it out again. Not a 

 speck on a top-boot, not a coat torn by a thorn, and the 

 horses as plump as if fresh from their mangers, instead of 

 having worked it down. Not a fleck of foam ; the sun, 

 too, shining, and yet no shadow — all glaring. And, despite 

 of all, deeply interesting to those who know the country- 

 side and have a feeling knowledge of its hunting history. 

 For the horses are from life, and the men portraits ; 

 the very hedges and brooks faithful — in ground-plan, at 

 least. The costume is true to a thread, and all the names 

 of the riders and some of the hounds are written under- 

 neath. So that a hunter sees not the crude colour or 

 faulty drawing, but what it is intended to represent. 

 Under its harshness there is the poetry of life. But 

 looking at these pictures, the reflection will still arise 

 how few really truthful hunting scenes we have on canvas 

 in this the country of hunting. The best are so conven- 

 tional, and have too much colour. All nature in the season 

 is toned down and subdued — the gleaming red and bright 

 yellows of the early autumn leaves soaked and soddened to 

 a dull brown ; the sky dark and louring — if it is bright 

 there is frost ; the glossy coat of the horses, and the scarlet, 

 or what coloured cloth it may be, of the riders deadened by 

 rain and the dewdrops shaken from the bushes. Think 



