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less body of their prey; whereas the old lady, none the worse for her prowess, walked quietly back towards the castle, as much as to say, «That's the way to do the trick, young 'uns: go, get your suppers, and recollect the lesson.” This self-said bitch has figured in the Coursing Calendar, as the receiver of many a stake; and the pups she produced on this occasion only one week after this window-flight all proved very superior dogs; indeed, they may fairly be said to have been in training in their mother's womb.

The amount of game killed on this day's excursion, we do not name here with any intention whatever of calling attention to its amount; the rough account of our walk must speak for itself, and will quite sufficiently explain that with shooting we combined the pleasure – indeed, the endless delight to be found in Nature's picture gallery, so variedly and so beautifully set before us: besides which, had we not a variety of chaces—the last not the least exciting —to say nothing of the storming of black-cocks by which we commenced the various amusements of the day?

Three brace of these beautiful and glossy black-cocks, nine hares, three and a half brace of grouse, three golden plovers, two brace and a half of ptarmigan, making a total of twenty-nine head of game, was therefore all we could muster-quite sufficient, believe me, to afford an admirable day's amusement, even though we numbered four guns in the field. Let it be understood, however, that the grouse grounds of Meggernie produce quite sufficient game to secure the utmost amount of killed compatible, in our humble opinion, with the spirit of a true sportsman who shoots-not slaugliters; indeed, at the moment we write this, we have before us two letters, dated, the one, Meggernie Castle, August 25th, 1846; the other, September 15th, which contains the following information:

“ We have not done much in the shooting yet, as my party are hardly assembled; Mr. H. has, however, been out a few times, and at his age (73) done wonders. He killed on four different days 26, 27, 30 and 21 brace. There will be no performance like this in Scotland this year. We have plenty of game. Millions of hares!"

Truly may this be called good sport; and we will answer for it, not a chirper or a bad-tried bird was found among the number. But this gentleman is a true sportsman by heart and deed, and has been so from seventeen till seventy-three. May he shoot on for years to come! The other letter states

“ The sport has been excellent. We have had great days with the hares. Above the wood, on Saturday, we killed 145 hares, 12 brace of grouse, 4 brace of ptarmigan, 1 roe, 1 golden plorer! We have killed a thousand brace of grouse since the 12th of August, though there are but few young birds !"

Turning to another document, a paragraph taken from a newspaper, and we read that on the 12th of August the owner of Monzies, a large property near Crieff, in Perthshire, killed and bagged on his moors the astonishing amount of 190 brace of grouse.

We have no patience to proceed further in such details ; for without we heard the fact asserted by him who did the foul deed, which courtesy would compel us to believe, we own we imagine it to. be impossible for any single gun to commit so great a slaughter

unless the packs of grouse rose every ten yards immediately under the nose of the shooter, so that each volley could settle a dozen birds at least. On naming this fact to a friend who, like ourselves, would rather at this moment be walking over the grouse hills, or riding at the rear of the stag-hounds over Dartmoor than be the last in London, he at first endeavoured to excuse the murder by saying that this feat, as he had been told, was undertaken for the purpose of proving the abundance of game to be found on this property, the proprietor being anxious to sell it. If such be really the case, we can only say that had we been desirous of becoming a purchaser, we should prefer to buy it with game on the grouse hills rather than without, which an act such as we have related must tend to annihilate for ever. According to the old maxim, however, every man has a right to do what he will with his own; and, having said thus much, we take our leave of the destroyer of one hundred and ninety brace of grouse, with the hope that he had the courtesy to send some of them to his friends in the south.

Daylight had now closed, and the bright moon shone in majesty over mountain, lake, and glen; millions of stars glittered in the mighty heavens; the early frost of autumn already whitened the grassy park, and the keen atmosphere without told with double forco on the comforts prepared for us within, as with one more look on the sparkling waters of the Lyon, and the shadows of the dark woods on its margin reflected by the moonbeams, and the towering bills beyond, we closed the shutters, and turned to the blazing wood and peat fire, and then joined our friends at the well-supplied board. Stewed hare at top; roast grouse at the bottom; then the hotch-potch and the haggies--the latter a dish the eating of which ought to have been forbidden by an article in the Union. Yet was this repast one most grateful to the palates of tired and hungry sportsmen; and as the toddy glass went round for those who preferred it, and the mulled wine for those who did not, and the skirmishes on the hilltops were fought over again and again, who so merry as we? Years have now passed : many many more may pass; yet long shall we remember this brief visit to the Glen of Lyon as one bright spot in the journey of a life which the clouds have not seldoin lowered with unusual darkness. On the morrow we were to quit a scene, perhaps for ever, which had been to us one of unusual happiness. Well, be it so; yet long may the inhabitants of the wild glen live in peace and plenty! We sought them for our gratification; we left with much regret

. It was our intention to start early, and walk direct through the glen, passing Loch Lyon and Ach and making our first halt at Inverouran, a small lone house, twenty-five miles from the castle westward. But as we hope for your company in our walk, so we shall defer our description of it till a night's rest has refreshed our mental as well as physical powers ---SO

" Good night! good night!

May visions bright
Sweet slumber o'er you hover,

Nor fancy bring

Upon her wing
One thought to cloud to-morrow.”

When most fatigued, however, sleep will not always readily obey the tired and fevered traveller or the over-fatigued sportsmanparticularly so when his brain is overwhelmed with thoughts which rush through the imagination, now bright and beautiful, then dark and gloomy ; like the stars of heaven, now shining forth in brightness, then lost to view by the passing cloud. This waking of the brain, though the body reclines in rest, may also be much increased by any little excitement previous to the hour of rest: and we must admit that we had a fair share of the grateful juice, which, doubtless, could the fruit which produced it have reasoned, as it ripened for the wine-press on the sunny hill of Portugal or France, would never have submitted to be bottled up for the gratification of grouse-shooters in the Western Highlands. Nevertheless it was there, and we drank it-possibly a glass, just one glass too much of it ; and the consequence was that instead of joining in the chorus of snores which sounded from time to time from neighbouring rooms, we lay thinking and ruminating and building castles, and bringing down grouse ; and among other things, we painted the following picture-perhaps not with the skill of an artist, but nevertheless truthfully—as far as our recollection will permit.

The hour was about six, the weather beautiful, the scason late in July. We were strolling quietly homewards across Grosvenor Square, admiring with much satisfaction the unusual greenness of its central garden, the clear blue sky above us, and the many gay and well-dressed children who were enjoying their gambols within the iron rails : runi. nating also, and with justice, on the many joys and comforts granted us, to mitigate the bitter cares amid life's dark and feeting dream of wretchedness, as we watched the numerous splendid horses, handsome carriages, and fair and well adorned occupants as they rolled rapidly by, when our attention was more particularly called to an usually well-appointed equipage which had stopped at one of the houses in the square. The horses were noble animals, the servants remarkably well but plainly dressed—indeed, the carriage, the harness, and everything was peculiarly striking from its total absence of all unnecessary ornament, and yet complete elegance and distinction in general appearance : yet if the carriage, servants, and beautiful horses had caused us to turn our attention to them, how far more were we attracted by the appearance of the fair and elegant woman who so gracefully reclined within it, face to face with two as beauteous children as mother's eye ever looked upon with fondness, or we ever had the pleasure of beholding ; in fact, the whole picture, drawn as it is from nature—the high-bred mother, the lovely children, the horses, the whole combined was a most perfect specimen of the wife, the mother, and the parent of England's most noble race. And yet no pride nor care sat on her fair young brow, but the bright and beaming smile which lightened up her sweet face as she gazed on the loved ones near her, and the clear blue eye and winning grace of that gentle countenance, once seen could never be forgotten ; indeed, the sweet and childish expression of the girl who faced us as we passed slowly on can never be obliterated from our memory. This is a true but simple sketch of an English mother in the higher ranks of society ; and if we may judge from the many beautiful children which are now daily to be seen driving


about during the London season, we would fain hope that fashion no longer forbids to those amenable to its laws the pleasure of proving to the world they love the companionship of their offspring. There may be, as doubtless there are, many pictures similar to that we have endeavoured to describe, daily to be seen during the season ; and doubtless the same fond mothers, met in the parks by day, at night may be found partaking of scenes of gaiety and revelry, when these loved objects of their tender care are hushed in their infantine slumbers. Yet be assured there is many and many a bright face, many a noble heart, many a young and affectionate wife, who participates in the frivolities of fashion from the nature of her position far more than from the nature of her inclinations, and who can most fully appreciate the beauties and delights of the country boyond the precincts of Kensington Gardens and the parks. Aye! hundreds are there, who look forward with delight to the period which emancipates them from the supposed pleasure of a London season, to the real ones to be found on he flowery-heathered mountains of Scotland, the wooded parks of England, and the green hills of Ireland. But mark the sequel of this rough sketch : rough, we say, for all was rough in memory, compared to the outline of those cherub faces we had looked on but for a moment for the first time, and, as we then believed, for the last. And yet it was so willed that we should meet again—but where ? in Grosvenor Square ?-no, surely not! Another London season had passed and was forgotten ; another bright summer had waned, and winter's rigours were over.

The rich harvest of a second had been well nigh culled, when either duty or pleasure, but most probably the latter, found us in the extreme north-west of Scotland.

The hour was about the same, the season somewhat later, but the sun shone as brightly, and the scene was far, far more beautiful than Grosvenor Square, as,' in company with a companion who, like ourselves, loves to combine his sporting visits to different parts of the kingdom with a glimpse of Nature's beauties wherever to be found, we were quietly walking our horses along the margin of a beautiful lake, the sides of which were overhung with luxuriant birch trees and mountain ash. All was so still, so bright, so beautiful, that as we looked on the rugged mountains, the green woods, and the clear waters near which we lingered, the busy world and the thronged city and the multitude might well be forgotten. The daily strife of man with man, the bitter sorrows of family contention, the agony of poverty, the sovereignty of wealth, the daily toil for bread, the follies of worldly pleasures, the darkness of crime, and the wearying feverish hours of the sick-bed, were lost to thought in the contemplation of Nature's loveliness, by which on all sides we were surrounded. Thus we rode on, in much enjoyment of the scene, when, as we turned a sharp corner of the road, a totally different prospect presented itself: the path, which had hitherto been secluded by the trees which covered the mountain slopes, now opened on a wide and extensive range of heathered hills, rising one above another in the far distance. We drew the rein in admiration of this splendid prospect. When about a hundred yards from the spot where we had halted, we beheld a party of equestrians riding slowly down the mountain-side towards the road : on their nearer approach, we discovered that the leader of the party was a lady.; gracefully she sat, and carefully she guided a handsome and powerful High

land Galloway ; by her side, on a rough Shetland pony, a very picture of its race, rode a beautiful boy, some eight or ten years of age. The rear of the party was brought up by a steady and well-appointed groom, who held by a rein attached to its bit another, but smaller Shelty, on which, gaily laughing, sat a lovely girl, probably a year younger than the boy, who doubtless was her brother. In such a spot, so secluded and yet so interesting, the appearance of this riding party—so unusual a sight—was naturally a cause of much surprise. How much more so, however, was our astonishment when, on their reaching the road, we beheld the same beautiful woman, and the same lovely children, whose presence two years previously had delighted us in Grosvenor Square ! The fair lady had no London appointments; no park habit ; no thorough-bred steed; no flowing feather or cashmere shawl ;-a plain straw bonnet covered her small and well-formed head ; a skirt of tartan served as a riding dress ; but the same kindly smile, the same bright look graced her fair face, which, pale and beautiful in Grosvenor Square, was now tinged with the hue of health, gained doubtless from the fresh air of the mountains among which with her children she was now enjoying herself; and the boy, with his Glengarry bonnet proudly placed on a head from which his long golden hair floated in the breeze-how well he sat his pony! How joyous was his look, as by his mother's side he rode—true specimen of the noble house of which in future years he may become the head. And the sweet girl—how she laughed and rode along, appealing to the faithful servant, as much as to say, “ Let me ride free : I fear not!” Then turning towards a noble deer-hound, well nigh as large as her pony, who trotted by her side, as if proud of his darling charge, she caressed him with her sweet young voice, as he, with large and brilliant eyes,



and answered her caresses. We could have pressed her to our heart. But this was not all the picture. On the summit of a small hill, from which they had descended, were scattered here and there a party of sportsmen. Their dogs were in the act of seeking game ; and the constant sharp echoes of the guns’ report, as it rattled through the mountains, told of an addition to the game-book, and added to the childish delight of those who felt they were partakers in the pleasures and sports--the mother, of her husband: the children, of their father. Landseer! why were you not there, to put on canvas, in all the beauty of your colouring, that which our pen has but vainly endeavoured to convey? But the scene shifted, and we turned to sleep, with the hope that a bright sunshine would welcome our rising.

" What various scenes! and, oh! what scenes of woe

Are witnessed by that red and struggling beam !
Through crowded hospital behold it stream;
The ruined maiden trembles at its gleam;
The debtor wakes to thought of gyve and jail ;
The love-lorn wretch starts from tormenting dream;
The wakeful mother, by the glimmering pale,
Turns her sick infant's couch, and soothes her feeble wail.”

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