Croxby, in which he is represented by the artist, ridden by Mason. He has been out since, and sustained defeat.

Steeple chasing appears an offset from the ancient equestrian practices, of which the train scents, noticed by the veteran Mascal, afford an instance. In proof of its novelty amongst us, we may quote the authority of the well known author of the descriptive matter in Scott's Field Sports, who, observing on Markham's notice, that "some love hunting for exercise, some for the chace they hunt, some for the running of the hounds, and some for the training and trying their horses," has the following:-"This latter part refers to their mixing the chace with racing in steeple running, and matching their horses to run train scents-practices long since out of date, excepting that a match across the country to a steeple may periodically occur between two men, who have more daring in their constitution than he who can snuff a candle with his fingers. A steeple chace, as it appears amongst us now, may be characterized as a hybrid, exhibiting features of both hunting and racing parentage, and thus may be considered as a modification of the hunter's stakes of the turf without the tendency to become mixed up with the fraudulent manoeuvres of the cocktail racings of country meetings. While it is certainly an anomaly that any other than horses of acknowledged purity of blood should compete on the legitimate racecourse, it is equally incumbent on us to encourage, by every possible means, that most valuable breed of English horse, called the hunter, which derives its strength from its early connection with British stock, and its speed, spirit, and endurance, from its much larger proportion of eastern parentage. Of these means none appear more eligible than such emulous trials as will tend to familiarise the horses and their riders to cross every variety of country.

English steeple chasing for some time appeared to us to be rapidly gaining ground, and in the absence of hunting it offers one of the very best means of keeping up the wind and condition of our field-horses, and the emulative spirit of field-men. Our method of conducting a steeple chase is not fettered with so many rules and enactments as those of Ireland; nor is it marked with much other ceremony than that of previously agreeing on the stakes, marking out the ground by means of flags on eminences, within certain distances, to the right or left of which the riders are confined in their course; neither must one horse follow the track of another, nor leap the same fence within so many yards of any other rider, nor is he allowed to take his course on any lane or road, beyond a certain distance.

It happens that man in his cultivated state accumulates a superabundant quantity of energy both of mind and body, without some drains are kept open, or artificial ones established, to keep down this excitation. Where the mental powers are more active than the corporeal, a ponderous tome gives it vent, and the cacoëthes scribendi being gratified, for a time allays the mental repletion. When the balance is in favour of bodily activity, and the banner of war is unfurled, we fly to arms, and seek glory and death in the same field. But when the return of peace has shut up these opportunities of expending superabundant energies, it is then that our high-bred youths,

all danger scorning, seek almost equally perilous adventures of flood and field, not in the pursuit of a human but of a brute foe, in which difficulties and dangers as thickly strew the path of the hunter as of the warrior. Honour, however, spurs on each; and the hero who has well earned the Waterloo medal, is now seen equally emulous to gain the brush of a fox, or the scut of a hare, as a trophy of his high bearing. Were the legitimate chase the only means of keeping up that wholesome rivalry, that chivalrous enterprise, which has gained to our youths the envy and the admiration of the world, there would be little left for the most caustic critic to remark on in dispraise: but when, Don Quixote-like, we chase steeples, as he encountered windmills, we fear" the schoolmaster being abroad" may have something to say. The exuberant energies, however, must have vent; and the gallant spirits of the present day would rather be really dead, than thought to be " dead slow." "Go it, my boys," is their motto; and whether it be to chase that which retreats like the fox from their pursuit, or the steeple which disdains all flight, is indifferent with those who, like the aides-de-camps of Buonaparte, are accustomed to few other orders than those of" forward! forward!”

PLATE II.

WILD-FOWL SHOOTING AT SUNRISE.

DRAWN AND ENGRAVED BY BECKWITH.

How numerous are the localities in Britain where wild-fowl shooting may be realised in perfection! How essentially necessary it is, therefore, that it should be scientifically understood by all sportsmen who have a penchant for it! The last opportunity we had of enjoying this interesting recreation in perfection, was in the autumn of 1841, when staying with that genuine specimen of an Englishman, the worthy and hospitable Governor of Bambro' Castle, in Northumber land.

The Fern Islands, so well known as the domestic resort of all the feathered tribes that frequent our shores, are situate within a short distance of this magnificent relic of feudal grandeur, which is erected on a solid rock, about 150 feet above the sea, and presents one of the most imposing scenes the eye can dwell upon. Here the sportsman will seldom be at a loss for wild-fowl; and here, for days, from morn to dewy eve, with an average share of success, we shot without intermission.

We present our readers with a spirited sketch from the pencil of Beckwith, illustrative of this pursuit; and purpose submitting a few

practical hints on the subject, the result of many years' experience. We would observe that the great object with the fowler should be to see his game without being seen himself, even if they are at too great a distance to show signs of alarm. To effect this he must creep cautiously forward to the first point that will command a view of the shore for some distance; then, taking out his glass, he must reconnoitre it by inches, noticing every tuft of grass or stone, to which wild-fowl asleep often bear so close a resemblance that, except to a very quick eye, assisted by a glass, the difference is not perceptible. If the locality be well frequented, he will most likely first discover a flock of divers, but must not be in a hurry to pocket his glass until he has thoroughly inspected the shore, in case some more desirable fowl may be feeding or asleep upon it. We will suppose that he sees some objects that may be wild-fowl. Let him then immediately direct his glass to the very margin of the water, to see if any. thing be moving there; should he find it so, he may conclude that ti is a flock of either ducks, widgeon, or teal; those first perceived resting on the shore, and the others feeding at the water's edge, of course not nearly so conspicuous. If there is no motion at the margin of the water, he must keep his glass fixed, and narrowly watch for some time, when, if what arrested his attention be wild-fowl asleep, they will, in all probability, betray themselves by raising a head or flapping a wing.

He must now take one or two large marks, that he will be sure to know again, as close to the birds as possible; and also another, about two or three hundred yards, immediately above, further inland. Having done this, let him take a very wide circle and come round upon his inland mark. He must now walk as if treading upon glass: the least rustle of a bough, or crack of a piece of rotten wood under his feet, may spoil all, especially if the weather be calm. Having got to about one hundred yards from where he supposes the birds to be, he will tell his retriever to lie down; the dog, if well trained, will at once do so, and never move. His master will then crawl forward until he gets the advantage of a bush or tuft of reeds, and then raise his head by inches to look through it for his other marks. Having seen them, he has got an idea where the birds are, and will, with the utmost caution, endeavour to catch sight of them. We will suppose him fortunate enough to do so, and that they are perfectly unconscious of his near approach. He must lower his head in the same cautious manner, and look for some refuge at a fair distance from the birds, through which he may fire the deadly-sitting shot. After crawling serpent-like to this, he will again raise his head by hair-breadths, and, peeping through the bush or tuft, select the greatest number of birds in line; then drawing back a little, in order that his gun may be just clear of the bush for the second barrel, after having fired the first through it, will take sure aim at his selected victims. Should he unfortunately not find an opening to fire through, the only other alternative is by almost imperceptible degrees to raise his gun to the right of the bush, and close to it; but in doing this the birds are much more likely to see him and take wing. Never fire over the