ley. Epsom has now an autumnal meeting, appointed to take place during this month; and similar attractions are proposed at Hampton, Liverpool, and Warwick, not forgetting the Aberystwith Hunt meeting, invariably one of the most agreeable gatherings of its kind it has ever been my good fortune to attend. A more favourable time for cub-hunting has certainly never been experienced; for although the weather was dry during the early weeks, there were heavy dews at night, and no particular deficiency of scent at the early dawn of day. Foxes are generally plentiful, and everything augurs fortuitously for an excellent season. The Earl Fitzhardinge's hounds visited the Cheltenham kennels, as usual, in September, and paid their accustomed devoirs to the vulpine family in that country. The permission given last season by the noble Earl to Mr. Villebois to hunt the Chedworth woods during those months his lordship's hounds are at their home kennels, it is understood will be continued. It is an arrangement mutually conducive to the sport of both packs; for those woods are so strong and extensive, and the foxes so abundantly preserved, that unless constantly hunted it is a very difficult matter to force them to break; but when they do, a run may be booked as a certainty, especially if it be in the direction of Puzedown or Northleach. The visitors to Cheltenham will receive this arrangement with satisfaction, for they were often wont to imagine they might have enjoyed a run in the open because a fox might have left the covert while the hounds were running hard at another that would not go away. In fact, there are many persons who hunt constantly so little acquainted with the details of the science as to imagine if a fox breaks he ought to be followed, although hounds may be working hard at the one they first found, but which still hangs to his sylvan territories. The foxes in these woodlands have lost a zealous friend, and the country a most enthusiastic sportsman, by the death, last summer, of a highly respected yeoman, Mr. William Walker, of Compton, who never failed in his attendance at the covert side whenever the hounds were within his reach. He was well-known to all who resided in the country, and as universally esteemed; and strangers will scarcely fail to recollect a portly farmer, wearing a low crowned hat, on a dark chestnut horse with a white face, which he rode some seventeen seasons, finishing his career only one season previously to the summer when his master died, and although worn out, to the credit of this worthy farmer be it recorded, his directions were, that his old horse should be taken care of during the remainder of his days. Having gallantly carried eighteen stone, it was an act of consideration he well deserved. There was an honest bluntness in the manner of this true bred Cotswold farmer, combined with a shrewdness of reply, which without prcducing offence was often the occasion of mirth and good-humour; and yet those who commenced joking with him, whether high or low their station, seldom got much the best in repartee. Another character, though of more humble pretension, will be missed by the attendants on Earl Fitzhardinge's hounds. The well-known 66 Jem Hastings," who for many years had been in the habit of following his lordship's hounds on foot, "has shuffled off this mortal coil" nd has gone to earth" in Charlton churchyard. Although in reduced circumstances, he was a man of respectable family, his father 66 and grandfather having been claimants for the peerage of Huntingdon, upon which unsuccessful claim they spent nearly the whole of their property. Jem Hastings was originally brought up as a tailor, but evidently having more hunting blood" in his veins than was compatible with that calling, preferred the chace of the fox to handling the goose. Nearly from the commencement of Earl Fitzhardinge keeping hounds, this untiring veteran has been in the habit of following them on foot; and his powers of endurance appear to have been inexhaustible. It is related of him, that one morning on which the hounds met in the Broadway country, he walked from Cheltenham, 16 miles, and thence to the covert-side, 8 miles; followed the hounds all day, and was with them when they killed at Fairford, another 12 miles; back to Broadway, 20 miles, and thence to Cheltenham, 16 miles further. Not content with this, Jem went badger-hunting at night in Queen and West woods, adding another 12 miles to the distances already enumerated: thus, in twenty-four hours he must have gone at least 84 miles. He preferred walking to riding even when he had an opportunity, declaring it would tire him more than the exercise to which he was so much accustomed. In my last communication, alluding to the sailing properties of the America, I made the remark that internal room and luxurious accommodation were generally greater considerations in the modelling and fitting up of our yachts than fast sailing qualities: to this may be added capabilities of encountering "heavy gales and boisterous seas,' a reflection we are led to by the distressing catastrophe which befel the Owen Glendower on the night of September 24th, off the coast of Ireland, having on board her owner, William Moore, Esq., Mrs. Moore, Mrs. Massey, and Miss Llewellyn. No one can read the account which appeared in Bell's Life without feelings of the most exquisite sympathy for the painful sufferings of the crew, particularly when it is observed that three of our fair countrywomen were doomed to brave the raging of the tempest in a disabled barque. The following extract from the abovenamed authority affords a most exciting narration of the event. "At 6 p.m. (Wednesday), vessel 10 miles off Loop Island, under all plain sail, with squaresail set, the sailing-master requested orders from Mr. Moore as to whether he should go into the Shannon or carry on for the night. The latter course was adopted; and the squaresail hauled, mainsail close recfed, foresail stowed, and with No. 3 jib the vessel was made snug for the night. At this period there was a very heavy sea on, and every prospect of a dirty night; vessel going 11 knots. At 8 p.m. the lights of Arran Island were sighted, and the skipper hove the vessel to with her head W. and by S., with a whole gale from the southward and westward, and a tremendous sea running, vessel scending heavily, and apparently tender of her head canvas. Just as the watch was relieved at midnight, the wind lulled for a moment, and then backing out from the N.N.E., came on to blow with redoubled fury. With a terrific sea a fearful squall struck her, when with a heavy roll she laid over bodily, and scending helplessly into the succeeding wave it swept her decks, filling her jib, carried away her bowsprit close by the span-shackle, burst the forestay at the stem head, mainmast snapped short off by the partners, chain plates wrenched from the channels, mast breaking also under the eyes of the rigging, and falling with an awful crash over her port quarter, carrying away main skylight, cabin companion, after skylight, bulwark stanchions and sheeting, and cutting down the taffrail in the port quarter midway to the counter. The scene at this time on board was perfectly awful. The skipper was struck down by the falling spars and gear, as also was the mate, and both severely injured; and the man at the tiller, James Best, of London, severely cut about the head. Mr. Moore, still undaunted, gallantly cheered on his crew; and his noble-hearted wife set an example on that fearful night which few of that crew will forget to their dying hour. Was ballast to be thrown overboard, were the wounded to be cared for, the wreck to be cleared away, the bold spirit to be sustained, or the fearful to be encouraged, there was this high-spirited lady fearless to the last." With the vessel in the disabled state already described they encountered the whole of the night, and having hoisted signals of distress their perilous situation was noticed, at 11 a.m. on Thursday, by the John of Riga, Captain Hein, outward bound with emigrants from Galway for New York. At 6 p.m., the gale abating, the gallant captain was enabled to lower a boat and rescue the grateful sufferers, whom he landed safely at Kilrush. Who can read the above without admiration for the brave bearing of Mrs. Moore ? When distress and real danger are at hand it is in the well-educated, high-minded woman that true courage and undaunted coolness reign pre-eminent. PASSAGES IN THE LIFE OF TILBURY NOGO, ESQ.; OR, THE ADVENTURES OF AN UNSUCCESSFUL MAN. BY FOXGLOVE. CHAP. XIV. "The ancient Persians taught three useful things: DON JUAN. and taught his novice hand To aim the forked bolt; while he stood trembling, London in the season is doubtless a very delightful place; and while the frame is vigorous, and the nerves unshaken, there is more enjoyment within the grasp of the votary of pleasure in the metropolis, than elsewhere. But let sorrow cast her shadow over the giddy trifler; let sickness poison the source of every gratification, which he has quaffed so eagerly; or let" ennui "the certain offspring of false excitement cloud his satiated mind, and paralyze his enfeebled energies, lo! a sudden change comes over him who erewhile seemed as if he could only exist in Pall-Mall, and, like a child flying back to its mother's quiet smile, when surfeited with the caresses and indulgences of a birth-day, he betakes himself for rest and refreshment to the inexhaustible stores of rural nature; and weary, dejected, disgusted though he be, her legitimate amusements and invigorating pursuits soon renovate his flagging spirits and drooping frame-soon bring back the bloom of health to his cheek, the lustre of contentment to his eye. 66 So was it with me. After a season of gaiety and adventure sufficient to undermine the constitution of any man who was neither a philosopher nor a Hercules, I felt so completely done up" with over-exertion and over-excitement, that Doctor Dotterell found little difficulty in persuading his alarmed patient to subscribe willingly to his fiat, delivered by the leech in his most oracular tone. 66 Country air, Mr. Nogo, is now the sine quâ non : tonics I have tried, and as you must perceive, ineffectually. I have studied your constitution, Mr. Nogo, which is in many respects like my own. You require exercise you require amusement-hem! and you are benefited by generous living (let me look at your tongue). You are, like myself, devoted to the sports of the field-not an uncommon taste among men of our organic vigour (the doctor weighed eight stone and a half, and was weak in proportion), who are formed for the ruder and more perilous occupations of life-(allow me to feel your pulse) and it is my opinion, sir-I speak it advisedly-that you must immediately leave town. Science has done her best for you: I have taken care of that; and we must now trust for a perfect cure to nature. Nature, sir, without whom the whole pharmacopoeia is but a fiddle without strings!" I was much of the little doctor's opinion as to the pharmacopoeia -whatever that imposing word may signify-and lost no time in writing to my old friend and schoolfellow," Joe Baggs," as we called him at Eton-now the Rev. Josiah Bagshot, incumbent of Wilton Cowslips, in the diocese of Bath and Wells-proposing that I should immediately pay him a long-promised visit at his quiet retreat in that most beautiful of all the beautiful localities adorning the west of England. It is needless to say that the ci-devant Etonian's acceptance of my offer was cordial as his previous invitation had been hospitable; and if I thought Dotterell was right in ordering me out of town, whilst my lungs were still oppressed by the smoke-laden atmosphere of London, how much more was I convinced of his skill and judgment when I awoke to the delightful consciousness of restored health and returning spirits, in the pretty bedroom of my friend's snug parsonage, on the morning after my arrival! The stillness, the utter repose, so grateful after the turmoil and constant noise inseparable from the existence of streets, amounted to perfect luxury; and as I lay awake, whilst my well-drilled servant was putting out my things with the stealthiness of a midnight conspirator, and watched the sunbeams streaming through my closed window-shutters, I felt a lightness of heart- a boyish gaiety, to which I had been a stranger for months; and when I did prevail on myself to get out of bed, it was with a frolicsome bound, such as had planted me on the floor of my tiny dormitory at Eton in years long since gone by, when a whole-holiday rose-as in those days it seemed always to risein cloudless magnificence; or better still, when the golden sunlight, bathing in flood of beauty the College turrets and Mother Angelo's chesnuts, ushered in the long-looked-for, heartily-welcomed, glorious Fourth of June! I am neither above nor below the weakness of being acted upon by such extraneous circumstances as fine weather and lovely scenery and when I opened my window, and looked over my friend Joe's ornamental garden, his rich and leafy orchard, his sloping paddock, with its huge old trees, and its cows grazing as they only graze when the thermometer stands at 70 in the shade, to the unequalled view beyond, it was with a thrill of delight as keen, as delicious as could have been experienced by a Poussin or a Claude Loraine. Hill and dale, wood and water, the neighbouring forest, and the distant hills, all that could constitute beauty, all that could delight the eye-there they were, heaped together in lavish magnificence: the golden stubbles studded with the shocks of late-reaped corn; the smiling meadows throwing out in crisp relief those gigantic elms, that towered into the sunshine; the broad river glancing like a sheet of burnished silver; the sweeping masses of wood, black as midnight, in their depths, from the contrast of light and shade; and the distant horizon blending with the sky in that sunny haze, which to me always realizes the idea of Fairy-land. What a gorgeous panorama to feed the vision of contemplative man, whilst he was shaving! But Joe's voice, as he inspects his now-fading roses for alas! ere the prime of summer mellows into autumn, the fairest flower is doomed to droop and die-Joe's full and manly voice admonishes me that tub and toilette must be proceeded with, for that "Breakfast will be ready in a quarter of an hour!" So whilst I am getting on with this necessary duty, and the clerical landholder walks as far as his orchard and his cows, let me devote a few lines to describing the person and position of my old schoolfellow and present host. "Joe" then, as his friends still call him—or the Rev. Mr. Bagshot, as he is entitled by the rest of the world—is a man basking in that enviable period of life which the young anticipate as the completion of their prime, and the old look back to as the flower of their youth. Joe Bagshot is thirty if he is a day and a more comely and athletic specimen of the Anglo-Saxon race it would be difficult to find in a summerday's journey. Five-feet-eleven in his stocking-soles; fourteen stone without offal-for severe exercise prevents the good-humoured parson from getting fat; with a rosy countenance, beaming with benevolence; a merry blue eye, and curling light-brown hair-it is no wonder that he is as great a favourite with the fair sex for his engaging appearance, as he is respected by the rougher portion of humanity for his bodily vigour and aptitude to all kinds of sports and exercises. Cricket, quoits, football, and wrestling-at these, the indigenous amusements of the country, he has not an equal in his parish. To walk a mile; to run a hundred yards; to leap, swim, or lift weights, he might be safely backed against most professionals; but many of these talents being decidedly unclerical, Joe is sedulous to conceal. For instance, although the best sparrer of his day at Cambridge, I recollect that the topic of self-defence being on one occasion brought forward at a numerous dinner-party which he attended, my friend was the only person in the room that had not a word to say upon the subject; nor was it until the gloves were actually produced, and, nolens volens, Joe was compelled to put them on with the biggest man present, that it was discovered that the parson was the |