believed by all the peasantry around to wander at night-fall on its shores. We then received the guide's direction to avoid looking behind us during our ascent. My cousin, who it was agreed upon should go first, grasped the projecting ledge of rock with his hands, and the guide from below, lifted him gradually by his legs, until his knees touched the rock above, when at a fearful risk, having nothing but the short heather to cling to, he drew himself up. I was raised by the guide in the same manner, but had the advantage of my cousin's support from above, which materially aided me; and the guide having, by what means I cannot devise, contrived to raise himself, we continued our ascent. With my two supporters I now found much less difficulty than I had before experienced, though we had to encounter some fearful squalls, but I kept my eyes steadily fixed on the ground above me, and carefully continuing our ascent, we at length reached a place of comparative safety.

The strong stimulant for further great exertion being lost, the reaction of feeling became most painful, and the deep sense of thankfulness for preservation through the danger to which I had so wilfully exposed myself, joined to the effects of fright and fatigue, quite overpowered me, and it was silently and with difficulty that I continued my

course.

Not so the guide-all positive danger being past, he recovered his spirits, and began, greatly to my annoyance, a most impassioned eulogium on my fortitude and courage, declaring in his strong brogue, that it was only equalled by that of Mrs. S. C. Hall, whom he had the honour of conducting into St. Kevin's bed; but that he had never before found so much danger in entering it, and that nothing whatever would again induce him to brave the violence of a storm in so doing. He continued in the same strain during our progress along the side of the mountain, and it was greatly to my satisfaction that I saw my kind friend, Mr. V., approaching to meet us.

"Thank God! you are returned safely," he exclaimed, as our quickened steps soon brought us together; "we will say nothing more at present, but join Letitia-who is waiting alone at the foot of the mountain-as quickly as we can."

Ten minutes more brought us there, and more dead than alive, I sank on the pebbly beach, quite unable to proceed further."

"Now for the bottle, Letty," said Mr. V.; "it is well indeed your foresight provided you with this."

Letty immediately drew from a little basket she carried two small flask bottles, containing wine and brandy, and pouring some of the former into a glass she had also brought, begged me to drink it. I did not revive till it had been replenished and emptied a second time, and this stimulant alone enabled me afterwards to reach the spot where we had left our conveyance.

My cousin and the guide refreshed themselves with the contents of the stronger bottle, mixed with a little of the limpid spring that gushed from a rock near by: and the latter, who had been vociferating my praises to Mr. V., drank my health, accompanied by the profusion of good wishes that flow so readily from an Irish peasant's tongue. "By the powers! but the young leddy must be put in the News," he exclaimed.

"In the Sporting Magazine, you mean," returned my cousin; "the adventure is worthy of that work."

On rising to leave this scene, to which no description can do justice, the guide offered to show us, on our way back to the village, a specimen of a "raal" Irish cabin, and as he assured us the distance would not be prolonged, we agreed to his proposal.

We soon stopped before a pile of mud, raised somewhat in the form of a large pigsty.

"That cannot be it !" I exclaimed; "no human creature can inhabit that hovel."

The guide entered, and I followed, but as quickly retreated, blinded and choked by the dense mass of smoke with which it was filled.

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"There is nothing in it but smoke," I remarked to my friends, and no door, window, or chimney."

"Try again," said Mr. V., laughing, and entering with me; "when you are accustomed to it you will see its inhabitants.'

It was some minutes before I could open my eyes; and when I did so, it presented no view but that of a cloud of smoke. I however determined to persevere, and at last discovered the outline of a pallet, with something lying on it. Keeping my eyes steadily fixed, it assumed the figure of an old man lying on straw, and covered with a coarse blanket. In the opposite corner of the room, which, excepting the small ray of light admitted by the low doorway, was perfectly dark, a girl about fourteen years of age, seemingly terrified at the sight of strangers, sat crouched over a small fire on the ground, whilst the smoke of the smothering turf vainly endeavoured to find its way through a hole in the roof. Over the fire was a small "crock," suspended by a piece of cord, which was fastened to a staple in the wall: a pig lay grunting near. No other article of any kind did the cabin contain, and having satisfied myself of this fact, I left it to recover my breath and eyesight, of which the smoke had nearly deprived me.

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On re-entering I addressed the girl, asking her how she managed her fire in wet weather, as the hole in the roof being immediately above, it must of necessity be extinguished by rain. Though I put the question in the plainest words, she seemed not to comprehend me, and returned no answer. I now begged to know what her crock," contained; but this question was equally unsuccessful. The guide here interfered, and reprimanding her sharply for her want of manners-a rebuke that might have been addressed with as much justice to the animal grunting beside her--put the questions to her himself, but was obliged to interpret her answers, as I could not understand a word she uttered. The crock, she said, contained a little meal and some potatoes; and in rainy weather they had no fire at all. I now turned towards the old man; and Mr. V., who had been talking to him, informed me he was between eighty and ninety years of age, and had spent the last seven years of that time on his straw pallet, attended only by his grand-daughter. Being again. nearly choked with the smoke, we were obliged, though reluctantly, to forego all further conversation with these poor creatures, who seemed to possess some of the properties of salamanders, and giving them a trifle, we left the cabin, followed by the hearty blessings and good wishes of the old man, who was far from possessing his grand-daughter's taciturnity.

We quickly reached the little village of Glendalough, and having satisfied our guide by deeds rather than words that we had fully appreciated his services, and received his parting injunction to put an account of the expedition in the Sporting Magazine, we started.

The difficulties and excitement of the two last days had now completely exhausted me, and I fell asleep on the car, where, by the kind contrivance and support of my friends, I was enabled to remain for a length of time unconscious either of the roughness of the road, or the darkness or coldness of the night. Five long weary miles of road, however, were passed, before we reached Roundwood; and having hastily partaken of some tea with two other travellers, whom we found there on our return, we retired to our rooms, to dream of the ghost of Kathleen, of the wild retreat of St. Kevin, and to sleep, as my cousin called it, "equinoctially."

NOTES OF THE CHASE.

BY CECIL.

Ten years ago, when Mr. Vyner wrote his very able, and justly admired work, Notitia Venatica, he saw occasion for expressing an opinion" that, although the votaries of the chaste Diana are much increased in numbers, as each hunting season returns with the 'cloudy sky' of November, still hunting is most truly considered to be on the decline." Numerous other sporting writers have subsequently "scored to the same cry." Without going so far as to deny in some measure the truth of the assertion, in justice to the "noble science," and a goodly list of its “ noble supporters," every man desirous to maintain the position of one of England's exclusive diversions, will surely endeavour to rescue it from imputations. In former days masters of hounds were far less numerous than in the present: noble dukes, lords, and wealthy squires kept hounds generally at their own expense, and it was not till the commencement of the present century that subscription-packs were in vogue. Many countries, that are now regularly hunted, were not hunted at all, or only partially; the preservation of foxes was not so carefully regarded; hunting countries or districts were not so accurately defined. Is it, therefore, a proof that the taste for fox-hunting is on the decline, when we find in those countries which do not rejoice in the benefit of a noble and wealthy patron, that the less affluent gentry of those districts join their purses for the promotion of the sport? Changes take place in the mastership of hounds, it is true; but those changes are most conspicuous in countries hunted by subscription. Those events are readily accounted for; the onerous duties are too often less kindly appreciated than they ought to be: subscribers on hunting, as in other matters, entertain various opinions, and thus dissatisfaction arises.

The ability to hunt a country and manage a pack of hounds is a gift that every man is not endowed with: many have made the attempt, and

failing to show sport have abandoned it. A man may ride brilliantly over a country, and gain the credit of being a first-rate sportsman; he may discourse most eloquently on all that appertains to the chase, but it does not follow that he will be successful as a master of hounds. There is no lack of aspirants to the honourable position: whether all are talented is another question; but no sooner is a country reported as about to become vacant, than there are two or three in the field ready to take it.

Men of extraordinary talent in any science or calling, are not born every year. Shakspeare was unrivalled in dramatic literature; Byron and Walter Scott have not had their equals in their style of poetry; every artist who attempts it is not able to arrive at the excellence of Rubens, Claude Loraine, or Sir Joshua Reynolds. Yet there are men who have written plays which have amused the public-though not equally so with Shakspeare, still with effect: so other poets than Byron and Walter Scott have charmed our senses with their effusions; and if not so successful as Rubens, Claude Loraine, or Sir Joshua Reynolds, there have been many very happy in their delineations of nature. The science of woodcraft is indebted to such men as Meynell, Corbet, and Musters, for the light in which they brought it forward; they may have many imitators, though but few equals; and if, in approaching near the originals, they succeed in showing sport, the public should rest satisfied by the endeavour.

One of the great evils constantly attendant upon a change in the mastership of hounds, is the sad havoc frequently made with the pack. A new master sets about to change their character; if small hounds, he entertains an opinion that larger ones would be more suitable to the country, and puts forward in his first entry none but the largest; or on the other hand, if they be large, he sets about to reduce the standard, and the same error prevails which renders them unsizeable, when they soon degenerate into what may be termed a scratch pack-they neither look well to the eye, or run together. But pace, that is to say, the speed of an individual hound, does not always depend on size; a middling-sized hound is often found to be the most speedy, and for general purposes is unquestionably to be preferred. In grass countries, where the fences are not frequent but large, a full-sized hound may be received; but in woodlands and thickly-enclosed districts small ones are far more preferable, especially if the fences are of that nature where they are obliged to creep through them. In making these observations, I have on more occasions than one witnessed the facts. It would be invidious to particularize what packs I allude to, but there is one most striking instance-a pack of fox-hounds justly celebrated for peculiarity of character, great power, rather low stature, and varmint appearance, but above all for the excellent style in which they did their work, steady from riot, remarkably good drawers, quick and handy; they have changed masters three times within the last ten years or so, and their character is most essentially changed for the worse; they are now all manner of sizes, very slack in covert and in scoring to cry, will hang in covert, and when a fox breaks are a long time in settling to the scent; they carry no head, and kill very few foxes.

The introduction of drafts from all quarters is far from being advisable in the formation of a pack of hounds, or when necessary to augment

the ranks it is much more prudent to obtain the drafts annually from the same kennel.

There are not a vast number of masters of hounds who are enabled to breed very extensively. The Dukes of Rutland, Beaufort, and Cleveland, Lords Yarborough, Fitzhardinge, and Fitzwilliam, Messrs. T. A. Smith, Farquharson, and Drake, are the most distinguished, few of the others having a sufficient command of walks to breed more than they require for their own establishments. Many cannot even do that, and are therefore obliged to buy annually. From what I can learn, there has been something in the atmosphere this year not congenial to the health of the canine race. The huntsman of one of the above establishments informed me, when I visited the kennel in May last, that they had lost fifty couples of young hounds, that were to have formed the entry for this year, and many of the whelps which I saw with their dams were looking far from blooming, not-I will vouch for it-from any want of care or attention, but from some atmospheric cause, not easily to be accounted for or prevented.

Possessing as I do the most fervent spirit to advocate the welfare of the chase, I cannot do better than make an exact from one of the agricultural reports, relating to Lincolnshire, waich appeared in the Times a few months since, from the pen of the talented commissioner who has devoted so much time to inquiries into the condition of the agricultural districts of England; his motive not being to dive into the sylvan retreats of woodcraft, the association of the chase with the interest and welfare of the farmer will be the more conspicuous. After describing the quality and condition of a great portion of the land in Lincolnshire, some sixty or seventy years ago, this gentleman observes :

"In the parish of Limber four tenants became bankrupt while renting 4,000 acres of land, for which they paid half-a-crown an acre, or £125 each. The same land is now paying eight or nine times that amount of rent, while the men who raised it to its present value have prospered in the process. Arthur Young expressed his astonishment that the rent of land should have risen on Lincoln-heath from nothing in most instances, and next to nothing in the rest, up to ten shillings an acre, the farmers all the time improving in their circumstances. Yet the same land has, since Young wrote, doubled its value. And at Blankney, where in his time Mr. Chaplin had several thousand acres of warrens let at from two to three shillings and sixpence an acre, the same proprietor has now arable land in an excellent state of cultivation, and bringing twenty shillings and upwards per acre. By changes like these, carried out upon a great scale, Lincolnshire has undergone a transition from barrenness to fertility, more rapid perhaps than any other county in England. Undoubtedly the spirit and enterprize of the principal landowners, seconded by the intelligence and energy of their tenants, have been the chief cause of the change which has been effected. Whatever importance may be attached to other considerations, the personal character of those proprietors who led the way in improvement was the main secret of the success which attended their efforts. Liberal treatment of tenants, a careful attention to their happiness and comfort, and the confidence created that the fruits of their industry and capital would be secured to them, seem to have been the principles which have actuated the great landowners. In the Yarborough family this policy has been so long maintained as to have assumed a traditional character. With such landlords as Mr. Chaplin, the interest which belongs to so noble a spirit is still personal. On the Brocklesby estates farms are held in the hands of the same families for generations, and a distinct and long-recognized preference is shown to hereditary claims. When a tenant dies, his executors take charge of the farm for the benefit of his son, if he happens to be under age; and should the widow marry again, the rights of any child by the first marriage are still carefully preserved. Should one member of a family misconduct himself, the next of kin who is a farmer is scс с

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