75Supernumerary.Additional.76Curious.Interesting.77Prejudice of education.Bent given to the mind by education.78By that means.Because of that.79Exorcised.Delivered from supernatural influence.80Lucretius.Roman philosopher-poet: 95-52B.C.81Pressed.Compelled.
75Supernumerary.Additional.
75Supernumerary.Additional.
76Curious.Interesting.
76Curious.Interesting.
77Prejudice of education.Bent given to the mind by education.
77Prejudice of education.Bent given to the mind by education.
78By that means.Because of that.
78By that means.Because of that.
79Exorcised.Delivered from supernatural influence.
79Exorcised.Delivered from supernatural influence.
80Lucretius.Roman philosopher-poet: 95-52B.C.
80Lucretius.Roman philosopher-poet: 95-52B.C.
81Pressed.Compelled.
81Pressed.Compelled.
Ἀθανάτους μὲν Ï€Ïῶτα θεοÏÏ‚, νόμῳ ὡς διάκειται,Τίμα.Pythag.First, in obedience to thy country’s rites,Worship the immortal Gods.
Ἀθανάτους μὲν Ï€Ïῶτα θεοÏÏ‚, νόμῳ ὡς διάκειται,Τίμα.Pythag.First, in obedience to thy country’s rites,Worship the immortal Gods.
Ἀθανάτους μὲν Ï€Ïῶτα θεοÏÏ‚, νόμῳ ὡς διάκειται,Τίμα.Pythag.
First, in obedience to thy country’s rites,Worship the immortal Gods.
I am always very well pleased with a country Sunday; and think, if keeping holy the seventh day were only82a human institution, it would be the best method that could have been thought of for the polishing and civilising of mankind. It is certain the country people would soon degenerate into a kind of savages and barbarians, were there not such frequent returns of a stated time, in which the whole village meet together with their best faces, and in their cleanliest habits, to converse with one another upon indifferent subjects, hear their duties explained to them, and join together in adoration of the Supreme Being. Sunday clears away the rust of the whole week, not only as it refreshes in their minds the notions of religion, but as it puts both the sexes upon appearing83in their most agreeable forms, and exerting all such qualities as are apt to give them a figure in the eye of the village. A country fellow distinguishes himself as much in the churchyard, as a citizen does upon the ’Change, the whole parish politics being generally discussed in that place, either after sermon or before the bell rings.
My friend Sir Roger, being a good churchman, hasbeautified the inside of his church with several texts of his own choosing: he has likewise given a handsome pulpit cloth, and railed in the communion-table at his own expense. He has often told me, that at his coming to his estate he found his parishioners very irregular; and that, in order to make them kneel and join in the responses, he gave every one of them a hassock and a common-prayer-book; and at the same time employed an itinerant singing-master, who goes about the country for that purpose, to instruct them rightly in the tunes of the psalms; upon which they now very much value themselves, and indeed outdo most of the country churches that I have ever heard.
As Sir Roger is landlord to the whole congregation, he keeps them in very good order, and will suffer nobody to sleep in it besides himself; for, if by chance he has been surprised into a short nap at sermon, upon recovering out of it he stands up and looks about him, and if he sees anybody else nodding, either wakes them himself, or sends his servants to them. Several other of the old Knight’s particularities84break out upon these occasions: sometimes he will be lengthening out a verse in the singing psalms, half a minute after the rest of the congregation have done with it; sometimes, when he is pleased with the matter of his devotion, he pronounces “Amen†three or four times to the same prayer; and sometimes stands up when everybody else is upon their knees, to count the congregation, or see if any of his tenants are missing.
I was yesterday very much surprised to hear my old friend, in the midst of the service, calling out to one John Matthews to mind what he was about, and not disturb the congregation. This John Matthews it seems is remarkable for being an idle fellow, and at that time was kicking his heels for his diversion. This authority of the Knight, though exerted in that odd manner which accompanies him in all circumstances of life, has a very good effect upon the parish, who are not polite enough to see anything ridiculous in his behaviour; besides that, the general good sense and worthiness of his character makes his friends observe these little singularities as foils, that rather set off than blemish his good qualities.
As soon as the sermon is finished, nobody presumes to stir till Sir Roger is gone out of the church. The Knight walks down from his seat in the chancel between a double row of his tenants, that stand bowing to him on each side; and every now and then inquires how such an one’s wife, or mother, or son, or father do, whom he does not see at church; which is understood as a secret reprimand to the person that is absent.
The chaplain has often told me, that upon a catechising day, when Sir Roger has been pleased with a boy that answers well, he has ordered a bible to be given him next day for his encouragement; and sometimes accompanies it with a flitch of bacon to his mother. Sir Roger, has likewise added five pounds a year to the clerk’s place: and that he may encourage the young fellows to make themselvesperfect in the church service, has promised upon the death of the present incumbent85, who is very old, to bestow it according to merit.
The fair understanding between Sir Roger and his chaplain, and their mutual concurrence in doing good, is the more remarkable, because the very next village is famous for the differences and contentions that arise between the parson and the squire, who live in a perpetual state of war. The parson is always preaching at the squire, and the squire to be revenged on the parson never comes to church. The squire has made all his tenants atheists and tithe-stealers; while the parson instructs them every Sunday in the dignity of his order, and insinuates to them in almost every sermon, that he is a better man than his patron. In short, matters are come to such an extremity, that the squire has not said his prayers either in public or private this half-year; and that the parson threatens him, if he does not mend his manners, to pray for him in the face of the whole congregation.
Feuds of this nature, though too frequent in the country, are very fatal to the ordinary people; who are so used to be dazzled with riches, that they pay as much deference to the understanding of a man of an estate, as of a man of learning; and are very hardly brought to regard any truth, how important soever it may be, that is preached to them, when they know there are several men of five hundred a year, who do not believe it.
L.
82Only.Merely.83Puts both the sexes upon appearing.Impels them to appear.84Particularities.Peculiarities.85Incumbent.Holder of the post.
82Only.Merely.
82Only.Merely.
83Puts both the sexes upon appearing.Impels them to appear.
83Puts both the sexes upon appearing.Impels them to appear.
84Particularities.Peculiarities.
84Particularities.Peculiarities.
85Incumbent.Holder of the post.
85Incumbent.Holder of the post.
Haerent infixi pectore vultus.Virg.Æn.iv. ver. 4.Her looks were deep imprinted in his heart.
Haerent infixi pectore vultus.Virg.Æn.iv. ver. 4.Her looks were deep imprinted in his heart.
Haerent infixi pectore vultus.Virg.Æn.iv. ver. 4.
Her looks were deep imprinted in his heart.
In my first description of the company in which I pass most of my time, it may be remembered that I mentioned a great affliction which my friend Sir Roger had met with in his youth; which was no less than a disappointment in love. It happened this evening that we fell into a very pleasing walk at a distance from his house: as soon as we came into it, “It is,†quoth the good old man, looking round him with a smile, “very hard, that any part of my land should be settled86upon one who has used me so ill as the perverse widow did; and yet I am sure I could not see a sprig of any bough of this whole walk of trees, but I should reflect upon her and her severity. She has certainly the finest hand of any woman in the world. You are to know this was the place wherein I used to muse upon her; and by that custom I can never come into it, but the same tender sentiments revive in my mind, as if I had actually walked with that beautiful creature under these shades. I have been fool enough to carve her name on the bark of several of these trees; so unhappy is the condition of men in love, to attempt the removing of their passions by the methods which serve only to imprint it deeper.She has certainly the finest hand of any woman in the world.â€
Here followed a profound silence; and I was not displeased to observe my friend falling so naturally into a discourse, which I had ever before taken notice he industriously avoided. After a very long pause he entered upon an account of this great circumstance in his life, with an air which I thought raised my idea of him above what I had ever had before; and gave me the picture of that cheerful mind of his, before it received that stroke which has ever since affected his words and actions. But he went on as follows.
“I came to my estate in my twenty-second year, and resolved to follow the steps of the most worthy of my ancestors who have inhabited this spot of earth before me, in all the methods of hospitality and good neighbourhood, for the sake of my fame; and in country sports and recreations, for the sake of my health. In my twenty-third year I was obliged to serve as sheriff of the county; and, in my servants, officers, and whole equipage, indulged the pleasure of a young man (who did not think ill of his own person) in taking that public occasion of showing my figure and behaviour to advantage. You may easily imagine to yourself what appearance I made, who am pretty tall, rid87well, and was very well dressed, at the head of a whole county, with music before me, a feather in my hat, and my horse well bitted. I can assure you I was not a little pleasedwith the kind looks and glances I had from all the balconies and windows as I rode to the hall where the assizes were held. But when I came there, a beautiful creature in a widow’s habit sat in court, to hear the event of a cause concerning her dower88. This commanding creature (who was born for the destruction of all who behold her) put on such a resignation in her countenance, and bore the whispers of all around the court, with such a pretty uneasiness, I warrant you, and then recovered herself from one eye to another, till she was perfectly confused by meeting something so wistful in all she encountered, that at last, with a murrain to her, she cast her bewitching eye upon me. I no sooner met it, but I bowed like a great surprised booby; and knowing her cause to be the first which came on, I cried, like a captivated calf as I was, ‘Make way for the defendant’s witnesses.’ This sudden partiality made all the county immediately see the sheriff was also become a slave to the fine widow. During the time her cause was upon trial, she behaved herself, I warrant you, with such a deep attention to her business, took opportunities to have little billets handed to her counsel, then would be in such a pretty confusion, occasioned, you must know, by acting before so much company, that not only I, but the whole court was prejudiced in her favour; and all that the next heir to her husband had to urge, was thought so groundless and frivolous, that when it came to her counsel to reply, there was nothalf so much said as every one besides in the court thought he could have urged to her advantage. You must understand, sir, this perverse woman is one of those unaccountable creatures, that secretly rejoice in the admiration of men, but indulge themselves in no further consequences. Hence it is that she has ever had a train of admirers, and she removes from her slaves in town to those in the country, according to the seasons of the year. She is a reading lady, and far gone in the pleasures of friendship: she is always accompanied by a confidant, who is witness to her daily protestations against our sex, and consequently a bar to her first steps towards love, upon the strength of her own maxims and declarations.
Two ladies conversing with a gentleman
“However, I must needs say this accomplished mistress of mine has distinguished me above the rest, and has been known to declare Sir Roger de Coverley was the tamest and most humane89of all the brutes in the country. I was told she said so, by one who thought he rallied90me; but upon the strength of this slender encouragement of being thought least detestable, I made new liveries, new-paired my coach-horses, sent them all to town to be bitted, and taught to throw their legs well, and move all together, before I pretended91to cross the country, and wait upon her. As soon as I thought my retinue suitable to the character of my fortune and youth, I set out from hence to make my addresses.The particular skill of this lady has ever been to inflame your wishes, and yet command respect. To make her mistress of this art, she has a greater share of knowledge, wit, and good sense, than is usual even among men of merit. Then she is beautiful beyond the race of women. If you will not let her go on with a certain artifice with her eyes, and the skill of beauty, she will arm herself with her real charms, and strike you with admiration instead of desire. It is certain that if you were to behold the whole woman, there is that dignity in her aspect, that composure in her motion, that complacencyin her manner, that if her form makes you hope, her merit makes you fear. But then again she is such a desperate scholar, that no country gentleman can approach her without being a jest. As I was going to tell you, when I came to her house I was admitted to her presence with great civility; at the same time she placed herself to be first seen by me in such an attitude, as I think you call the posture of a picture, that she discovered92new charms, and I at last came towards her with such an awe as made me speechless. This she no sooner observed but she made her advantage of it, and began a discourse to me concerning love and honour, as they both are followed by pretenders, and the real votaries to them. When she discussed these points in a discourse, which I verily believe was as learned as the best philosopher in Europe could possibly make, she asked me whether she was so happy as to fall in with my sentiments on these important particulars. Her confidant sat by her, and upon my being in the last93confusion and silence, this maliciousaideof hers turning to her says, ‘I am very glad to observe Sir Roger pauses upon this subject, and seems resolved to deliver all his sentiments upon the matter when he pleases to speak.’ They both kept their countenances, and after I had sat half an hour meditating how to behave before such profound casuists, I rose up and took my leave. Chance has since that time thrown me very often in her way, and she as often has directed a discourse tome which I do not understand. This barbarity has kept me ever at a distance from the most beautiful object my eyes ever beheld. It is thus also she deals with all mankind, and you must make love to her, as you would conquer the sphinx, by posing her94. But were she like other women, and that there were any talking to her, how constant must the pleasure of that man be, who would converse with a creature—But, after all, you may be sure her heart is fixed on some one or other; and yet I have been credibly informed—but who can believe half that is said? After she had done speaking to me, she put her hand to her bosom and adjusted her tucker. Then she cast her eyes a little down, upon my beholding her too earnestly. They say she sings excellently: her voice in her ordinary speech has something in it inexpressibly sweet. You must know I dined with her at a public table the day after I first saw her, and she helped me to some tansy in the eye of all the gentlemen in the country. She has certainly the finest hand of any woman in the world. I can assure you, sir, were you to behold her, you would be in the same condition; for as her speech is music, her form is angelic. But I find I grow irregular95while I am talking of her; but indeed it would be stupidity to be unconcerned at such perfection. Oh the excellent creature! she is asinimitable to all women, as she is inaccessible to all men.â€
I found my friend begin to rave, and insensibly96led him towards the house, that we might be joined by some other company; and am convinced that the widow is the secret cause of all that inconsistency which appears in some parts of my friend’s discourse, though he has so much command of himself as not directly to mention her, yet according to that of Martial97, which one knows not how to render into English,Dum tacet hanc loquitur. I shall end this paper with that whole epigram, which represents with much humour my honest friend’s condition.
Quicquid agit Rufus, nihil est, nisi Naevia Rufo,Si gaudet, si flet, si tacet, hanc loquitur:Coenat, propinat, poscit, negat, annuit, una estNaevia; si non sit Naevia, mutus erit.Scriberet hesternâ patri cùm luce salutem,Naevia lux, inquit, Naevia numen, ave.Epig.lxix. l. 1.Let Rufus weep, rejoice, stand, sit, or walk,Still he can nothing but of Nævia talk;Let him eat, drink, ask questions, or dispute,Still he must speak of Nævia, or be mute.He writ to his father, ending with this line,I am, my lovely Nævia, ever thine.
Quicquid agit Rufus, nihil est, nisi Naevia Rufo,Si gaudet, si flet, si tacet, hanc loquitur:Coenat, propinat, poscit, negat, annuit, una estNaevia; si non sit Naevia, mutus erit.Scriberet hesternâ patri cùm luce salutem,Naevia lux, inquit, Naevia numen, ave.Epig.lxix. l. 1.
Let Rufus weep, rejoice, stand, sit, or walk,Still he can nothing but of Nævia talk;Let him eat, drink, ask questions, or dispute,Still he must speak of Nævia, or be mute.He writ to his father, ending with this line,I am, my lovely Nævia, ever thine.
R.
86Settled.An obscure expression. Possibly it means “bound up with.â€87Rid.Rode.88Dower.Widow’s portion of her husband’s property.89Humane.Civilised.90Rallied.Bantered.91Pretended.Presumed.92Discovered.Displayed.93Last.Utmost.94Conquer the sphinx, by posing her.Reference to the story of Å’dipus, who answered the riddle of the Sphinx, whereupon she destroyed herself. “Pose†her,i.e., with a problem she cannot solve.95Irregular.Incoherent.96Insensibly.Without his noticing it.97Martial.Latin satirist: 41-104A.D.
86Settled.An obscure expression. Possibly it means “bound up with.â€
86Settled.An obscure expression. Possibly it means “bound up with.â€
87Rid.Rode.
87Rid.Rode.
88Dower.Widow’s portion of her husband’s property.
88Dower.Widow’s portion of her husband’s property.
89Humane.Civilised.
89Humane.Civilised.
90Rallied.Bantered.
90Rallied.Bantered.
91Pretended.Presumed.
91Pretended.Presumed.
92Discovered.Displayed.
92Discovered.Displayed.
93Last.Utmost.
93Last.Utmost.
94Conquer the sphinx, by posing her.Reference to the story of Œdipus, who answered the riddle of the Sphinx, whereupon she destroyed herself. “Pose†her,i.e., with a problem she cannot solve.
94Conquer the sphinx, by posing her.Reference to the story of Œdipus, who answered the riddle of the Sphinx, whereupon she destroyed herself. “Pose†her,i.e., with a problem she cannot solve.
95Irregular.Incoherent.
95Irregular.Incoherent.
96Insensibly.Without his noticing it.
96Insensibly.Without his noticing it.
97Martial.Latin satirist: 41-104A.D.
97Martial.Latin satirist: 41-104A.D.
Ut sit mens sana in corpore sano.Juv.Sat.x. ver. 356.A healthy body and a mind at ease.
Ut sit mens sana in corpore sano.Juv.Sat.x. ver. 356.A healthy body and a mind at ease.
Ut sit mens sana in corpore sano.Juv.Sat.x. ver. 356.
A healthy body and a mind at ease.
Bodily labour is of two kinds, either that which a man submits to for his livelihood, or that which he undergoes for his pleasure. The latter of them generally changes the name of labour for that of exercise, but differs only from ordinary labour as it rises from another motive.
A country life abounds in both these kinds of labour, and for that reason gives a man a greater stock of health, and consequently a more perfect enjoyment of himself, than any other way of life. I consider the body as a system of tubes and glands, or to use a more rustic phrase, a bundle of pipes and strainers, fitted to one another after so wonderful a manner as to make a proper engine for the soul to work with. This description does not only comprehend the bowels, bones, tendons, veins, nerves, and arteries, but every muscle and every ligature, which is a composition of fibres, that are so many imperceptible tubes or pipes interwoven on all sides with invisible glands or strainers.
This general idea of a human body, without considering it in its niceties of anatomy, lets us see how absolutely necessary labour is for the right preservation of it. There must be frequent motions and agitations, to mix, digest, and separate the juices contained in it, as well as to clear and cleanse thatinfinitude of pipes and strainers of which it is composed, and to give their solid parts a more firm and lasting tone. Labour or exercise ferments the humours, casts them into their proper channels, throws off redundancies, and helps nature in those secret distributions, without which the body cannot subsist in its vigour, nor the soul act with cheerfulness.
I might here mention the effects which this has upon all the faculties of the mind, by keeping the understanding clear, the imagination untroubled, and refining those spirits that are necessary for the proper exertion of our intellectual faculties, during the present laws of union between soul and body. It is to a neglect in this particular98, that we must ascribe the spleen99, which is so frequent in men of studious and sedentary tempers, as well as the vapours99to which those of the other sex are so often subject.
Had not exercise been absolutely necessary for our well-being, nature would not have made the body so proper for it, by giving such an activity to the limbs, and such a pliancy to every part as necessarily produce these compressions, extensions, contortions, dilatations, and all other kinds of motions that are necessary for the preservation of such a system of tubes and glands as has been before mentioned. And that we might not want inducements to engage us in such an exercise of the body as is proper forits welfare, it is so ordered that nothing valuable can be procured without it. Not to mention riches and honour, even food and raiment are not to be come at without the toil of the hands and sweat of the brows. Providence furnishes materials, but expects that we should work them up ourselves. The earth must be laboured before it gives its increase, and when it is forced into its several products, how many hands must they pass through before they are fit for use? Manufactures, trade, and agriculture, naturally employ more than nineteen parts of the species in twenty; and as for those who are not obliged to labour, by the condition100in which they are born, they are more miserable than the rest of mankind, unless they indulge themselves in that voluntary labour which goes by the name of exercise.
My friend Sir Roger has been an indefatigable man in business of this kind, and has hung several parts of his house with the trophies of his former labours. The walls of his great hall are covered with the horns of several kinds of deer that he has killed in the chase, which he thinks the most valuable furniture of his house, as they afford him frequent topics of discourse, and show that he has not been idle. At the lower end of the hall is a large otter’s skin stuffed with hay, which his mother ordered to be hung up in that manner, and the Knight looks upon it with great satisfaction, because it seems he was but nine years old when his dog killed him. A little room adjoining to the hall is a kind of arsenalfilled with guns of several sizes and inventions, with which the Knight has made great havoc in the woods, and destroyed many thousands of pheasants, partridges and woodcocks. His stable doors are patched101with noses that belonged to foxes of the Knight’s own hunting down. Sir Roger showed me one of them, that for distinction sake has a brass nail struck through it, which cost him about fifteen hours’ riding, carried him through half a dozen counties, killed him a brace of geldings, and lost above half his dogs. This the Knight looks upon as one of the greatest exploits of his life. The perverse widow, whom I have given some account of, was the death of several foxes; for Sir Roger has told me that in the course of his amours102he patched the western door of his stable. Whenever the widow was cruel, the foxes were sure to pay for it. In proportion as his passion for the widow abated and old age came on, he left off fox-hunting; but a hare is not yet safe that sits within ten miles of his house.
There is no kind of exercise which I would so recommend to my readers of both sexes as this of riding, as there is none which so much conduces to health, and is every way accommodated to the body, according to theideawhich I have given of it. Doctor Sydenham is very lavish in its praises; and if the English reader will see the mechanical effects of it described at length, he may find them in a book published not many years since, under the title ofMedicina Gymnastica. For my own part,when I am in town, for want of these opportunities, I exercise myself an hour every morning upon a dumb bell that is placed in a corner of my room, and pleases me the more because it does everything I require of it in the most profound silence. My landlady and her daughters are so well acquainted with my hours of exercise, that they never come into my room to disturb me whilst I am ringing.
When I was some years younger than I am at present, I used to employ myself in a more laborious diversion, which I learned from a Latin treatise of exercises that is written with great erudition: it is there called theσκιομαχία, or the fighting with a man’s own shadow, and consists in the brandishing of two short sticks grasped in each hand, and loaden with plugs of lead at either end. This opens the chest, exercises the limbs, and gives a man all the pleasure of boxing, without the blows. I could wish that several learned men would lay out that time which they employ in controversies and disputes about nothing, in this method of fighting with their own shadows. It might conduce very much to evaporate the spleen, which makes them uneasy103to the public as well as to themselves.
To conclude, as I am a compound of soul and body, I consider myself as obliged to a double scheme of duties; and think I have not fulfilled the business of the day when I do not thus employ the one in labour and exercise, as well as the other in study and contemplation.
L.
98Particular.Respect.99Spleen,vapours. Attacks of depression or melancholy.100Condition.Rank.101Patched.Decorated.102Amours.Courtship.103Uneasy.Trying.
98Particular.Respect.
98Particular.Respect.
99Spleen,vapours. Attacks of depression or melancholy.
99Spleen,vapours. Attacks of depression or melancholy.
100Condition.Rank.
100Condition.Rank.
101Patched.Decorated.
101Patched.Decorated.
102Amours.Courtship.
102Amours.Courtship.
103Uneasy.Trying.
103Uneasy.Trying.
Vocat ingenti clamore Cithaeron,Taygetique canes.Virg.Georg.iii. ver. 43.The echoing hills and chiding hounds invite.
Vocat ingenti clamore Cithaeron,Taygetique canes.Virg.Georg.iii. ver. 43.The echoing hills and chiding hounds invite.
Vocat ingenti clamore Cithaeron,Taygetique canes.Virg.Georg.iii. ver. 43.
The echoing hills and chiding hounds invite.
Those who have searched into human nature observe that nothing so much shows the nobleness of the soul as that its felicity consists in action. Every man has such an active principle in him, that he will find out something to employ himself upon, in whatever place or state of life he is posted. I have heard of a gentleman who was under close confinement in the Bastile seven years; during which time he amused himself in scattering a few small pins about his chamber, gathering them up again, and placing them in different figures on the arm of a great chair. He often told his friends afterwards, that unless he had found out this piece of exercise, he verily believed he should have lost his senses.
After what has been said, I need not inform my readers that Sir Roger, with whose character I hope they are at present pretty well acquainted, has in his youth gone through the whole course of those rural diversions which the country abounds in; and which seem to be extremely well suited to that laborious industry a man may observe here in a far greater degree than in towns and cities. I have before hinted at some of my friend’s exploits: hehas in his youthful days taken forty coveys of partridges in a season; and tired many a salmon with a line consisting but of a single hair. The constant thanks and good wishes of the neighbourhood always attended him, on account of his remarkable enmity towards foxes; having destroyed more of those vermin in one year, than it was thought the whole country could have produced. Indeed the Knight does not scruple to own among his most intimate friends, that in order to establish his reputation this way, he has secretly sent for great numbers of them out of other counties, which he used to turn loose about the country by night, that he might the better signalise himself in their destruction the next day. His hunting horses were the finest and best managed104in all these parts: his tenants are still full of the praises of a grey stone-horse105that unhappily staked106himself several years since, and was buried with great solemnity in the orchard.
Sir Roger, being at present too old for fox-hunting, to keep himself in action, has disposed of his beagles and got a pack of stop-hounds107. What these want in speed, he endeavours to make amends for by the deepness of their mouths108and the variety of their notes, which are suited in such manner to each other, that the whole cry109makes up a completeconcert. He is so nice110in this particular, that a gentleman having made him a present of a very fine hound the other day, the Knight returned it by the servant with a great many expressions of civility; but desired him to tell his master, that the dog he had sent was indeed a most excellent bass, but that at present he only wanted a counter-tenor111. Could I believe my friend had ever read Shakespeare, I should certainly conclude he had taken the hint from Theseus in theMidsummer Night’s Dream.
My hounds are bred out of the Spartan kind,So flu’d, so sanded; and their heads are hungWith ears that sweep away the morning dew.Crook-knee’d and dew-lap’d like Thessalian bulls,Slow in pursuit, but match’d in mouths like bells,Each under each: a cry more tuneableWas never halloo’d to, nor cheer’d with horn.
My hounds are bred out of the Spartan kind,So flu’d, so sanded; and their heads are hungWith ears that sweep away the morning dew.Crook-knee’d and dew-lap’d like Thessalian bulls,Slow in pursuit, but match’d in mouths like bells,Each under each: a cry more tuneableWas never halloo’d to, nor cheer’d with horn.
Sir Roger is so keen at this sport, that he has been out almost every day since I came down; and upon the chaplain’s offering to lend me his easy pad, I was prevailed on yesterday morning to make one of the company. I was extremely pleased, as we rid along, to observe the general benevolence112of all the neighbourhood towards my friend. The farmer’s sons thought themselves happy if they could open a gate for the good old Knight as he passed by; which he generally requited with a nod or a smile, and a kind inquiry after their fathers and uncles.
After we had rid about a mile from home, we came upon a large heath, and the sportsmen began tobeat. They had done so for some time, when as I was at a little distance from the rest of the company, I saw a hare pop out from a small furze-brake almost under my horse’s feet. I marked the way she took, which I endeavoured to make the company sensible of by extending my arm; but to no purpose, until Sir Roger, who knows that none of my extraordinary motions are insignificant, rode up to me, and asked me if puss was gone that way? Upon my answering “Yes,†he immediately called in the dogs, and put them upon the scent. As they were going off, I heard one of the country fellows muttering to his companion, “That it was a wonder they had not lost all their sport, for want of the silent gentleman’s crying ‘Stole away113.’â€
This, with my aversion to leaping hedges, made me withdraw to a rising ground, from whence I could have the pleasure of the whole chase, without the fatigue of keeping in with the hounds. The hare immediately threw them above a mile behind her; but I was pleased to find, that instead of running straight forwards, or, in hunter’s language, flying the country, as I was afraid she might have done, she wheeled about, and described a sort of circle round the hill where I had taken my station, in such manner as gave me a very distinct view of the sport. I could see her first pass by, and the dogs some time afterwards unravelling the whole track she had made, and following her through all her doubles. I was atthe same time delighted in observing that deference which the rest of the pack paid to each particular hound, according to the character he had acquired amongst them: if they were at a fault, and an old hound of reputation opened but once, he was immediately followed by the whole cry; while a raw dog, or one who was a noted liar, might have yelped his heart out without being taken notice of.
The hare now, after having squatted two or three times, and been put up again as often, came still nearer to the place where she was at first started. The dogs pursued her, and these were followed by the jolly Knight, who rode upon a white gelding, encompassed by his tenants and servants, and cheering his hounds with all the gaiety of five and twenty. One of the sportsmen rode up to me, and told me that he was sure the chase was almost at an end, because the old dogs, which had hitherto lain behind, now headed the pack. The fellow was in the right. Our hare took a large field just under us, followed by the full cry in view. I must confess the brightness of the weather, the cheerfulness of everything around me, the chiding of the hounds, which was returned upon us in a double echo from two neighbouring hills, with the hallooing of the sportsmen and the sounding of the horn, lifted my spirits into a most lively pleasure, which I freely indulged because I knew it was innocent. If I was under any concern, it was on the account of the poor hare, that was now quite spent and almost within the reach of her enemies; when the huntsman, gettingforward, threw down his pole114before the dogs. They were now within eight yards of that game which they had been pursuing for almost as many hours; yet on the signal before mentioned they all made a sudden stand, and though they continued opening as much as before, durst not once attempt to pass beyond the pole. At the same time Sir Roger rode forward, and alighting, took up the hare in his arms; which he soon delivered to one of his servants, with an order, if she could be kept alive, to let her go in his great orchard; where it seems he has several of these prisoners of war, who live together in a very comfortable captivity. I was highly pleased to see the discipline of the pack, and the good nature of the Knight, who could not find in his heart to murder a creature that had given him so much diversion.
Hunting scene: man on horseback, with hounds and other riders
As we were returning home, I remembered that Monsieur Paschal115in his most excellent discourse on “the misery of man,†tells us, that “all our endeavours after greatness proceed from nothing but a desire of being surrounded by a multitude of persons and affairs that may hinder us from looking into ourselves, which is a view we cannot bear.†He afterwards goes on to show that our love of sports comes from the same reason, and is particularly severe upon hunting. “What,†says he, “unless it be to drown thought, can make men throw awayso much time and pains upon a silly animal, which they might buy cheaper in the market?†The foregoing reflection is certainly just, when a man suffers his whole mind to be drawn into his sports, and altogether loses himself in the woods; but does not affect those who propose a far more laudable end for this exercise; I mean, the preservation of health, and keeping all the organs of the soul in a condition to execute her orders. Had that incomparable person, whom I last quoted, been a little more indulgent to himself in this point, the world might probably have enjoyed him much longer: whereas, through too great an application to his studies in his youth, he contracted that ill habit116of body, which, after a tedious sickness, carried him off in the fortieth year of his age; and the whole history we have of his life till that time, is but one continued account of the behaviour of a noble soul struggling under innumerable pains and distempers.
For my own part, I intend to hunt twice a week during my stay with Sir Roger; and shall prescribe the moderate use of this exercise to all my country friends, as the best kind of physic for mending a bad constitution, and preserving a good one.
I cannot do this better, than in the following lines out of Mr. Dryden:—