inevitably become useless, as the case may be, and which may be defined by classing them as hard and soft in temper.

As a downright hard-tempered dog can only be of use to a keeper, or a sportsman whose practice will enable him to keep the animal in constant and heavy work, and as the treatment necessary to subdue such will be detailed when I come to speak of steady ing from hare, it would be almost a piece of tautology to notice it here I shall therefore only consider the immediately succeeding instructions as applying to dogs of a fair temper, free from any remarkable defect; and then proceed to the conduct to be observed towards such, who from natural delicacy and shyness, unskilful treatment or accident when whelps, I have above designated as soft, which not unfrequently happens in the best bred dogs, and generally, principally indeed, exhibits itself in a fear of the gun.

Mr. Dobson, in his Kunopædia, says he always considered this defect as indicative of some latent bastardy or impurity of blood; but I have seen such a frequent occurrence of it in dogs whose pedigrees were known to be unexceptionable, and who, when once hardened, have proved excellent, that I cannot come to such a sweeping conclusion, though doubtless there may be much in the remark. All whelps should be used to the sight and sound of a gun from almost infancy, but it must be commenced with great caution, and continued by progressive degrees. The priming of a flint or the cap of a percussion gun is quite enough for the nerves of most whelps; but I

have seen many, subsequently good ones, for whom even this was too much. Great attention should be paid when you proceed to blow off at first, that the whelp sees you, as, if the sudden noise comes upon him wholly unawares, it seldom fails to make him scamper off and hide himself in terror. Supposing, however, for the present, that a whelp, advanced to the stage at which I concluded my last letter, is happily free from any inherent defect, take a gun-it is in all respects superior to a pistol, though the last is most commonly usedand put in or on the priming only, as it may be flint or percussion; then select some retired field or spot of ground where there is the least possible chance of interruption from passers-by or even cattle-in short, anything whatever which may distract the animal's attention in even the slightest degree-and being provided with a rope, to the end of which should be attached an iron spike similar to that of a garden line, which may best be done by means of a plain swivel, such as are on the common couples, and can be hal of the coarsest smith, lead the dog into the most retired part of the place you have selected, and during your progress there pay particular attention to his looks and actions: if you have previously used him to the gun, well and good; if not, and he fidgets or draws back, or betrays the slightest signs of uneasiness, loose him directly, and return home. To persist under such circumstances would blink him infallibly. If he betrays no uneasiness, proceed, and, going to your appointed place, fix the pin firmly in the ground, make the

dog lie down, and, taking special care that he observes all your actions, go through the motions of loading, then level the gun as in the act of shooting, and blow off the priming. If he jumps up or rushes out, the pin, if rightly put down, will check him, and you must immediately lay hold of him and pull him back to the spot he sprung from, as near as possibly can be; then lay the whip gently over him, and caution him sternly. Should he (though it is very seldom the case at first) lie still, caress him and reward him with a biscuit, or some such gear. Now load in his observation, but put only in about as much powder as would constitute a priming; should he fidget while you are so doing, put down the gun and rate him well; he must lie still; then present and fire. This (gradually increasing the charge until it comes to a full one) must be repeated until he lies steadily. This is the first lesson, which in a few days he will become quite au fait in.

You may now let him lie idle for a day or two, when, fixing your rope as before, commence walking round and away from him, at a moderate distance. If he attempts to rise, keep him

down, and make him remain steady. When he lies still, at the end of one of your walks present and fire in his observance ; and persevere in this until he lies with composure at every shot: then increase your distance, and turning so as to get as much as possible out of his observance, fire unawares to him. This must be well attended to and practised, as it is the only means by which a dog can be brought to drop steadily out, or when he is a considerable distance from you when actually shooting, and you fire at a shot trod up without a point. This few dogs, though they drop well enough when you fire close over them, ever do; but it is in my humble opinion a matter of such utter necessity (for reasons I shall afterwards explain), that, let a dog be possessed of every other qualification, and lack this one, he cannot come under the denomination of a handy useful dog, much less a perfect broken one. The whelp may then be loosed and taken to different grounds, and some shots over hin, and unawares to him, be fired, till whenever he hears the shot down he lies: then he is made, and may be taken to the actual business of the field*.

There is a two-fold motive for laying such stress on this dropping out to a random or pop shot. It applies equally to countries where game is scarce or plenty; and nothing contributes more to help in steadying from hare, as the habit of dropping at the sound being deeply rooted, it supersedes in a great measure any other impulse. In a country where game is scarce, and in a wild day, when a man is anxious to get game, and his dogs come racing in wildly to shot (as often down wind as otherwise, and their noses, from their unruly anxiety, off their work), they infallibly spring what may be between them and him, perhaps his only remaining chance, and he has the satisfaction of going home without what he wanted, or possibly an empty bag; whereas if the dogs had lain they would have remained collected, and, proceeding steadily to their work, either allowed him shots at what he would have walked up in distance, or found them for him. Where game is plenty, a dog who runs in is sure to do mischief: so I hold it to be a sine quâ non where a man chooses to do his work as an artist. The Highflyers, I make no doubt, may turn up their noses at this, and object that an animal so broken may be put off his mettle, and reduced to a mere automaton. But to make a perfect dog a whelp should be nothing else. When a dog is but half broken, he may do tolerably well at first with the gun; but as he becomes stimulated by slaughter he generally falls into one or more peculiar bad habits-which from want of being early taught the "way he should go," nothing can reclaim him from-or becomes so totally headstrong as to have

no will but his own: whereas when drilled from a whelp into these movements, he knows no will but yours, and, if he falls into any faults or vice, is easily brought back, remembering to the last an education so thoroughly grounded, while the practice of the field never fails to stimulate him to the utmost of his powers.

The method of treating a whelp at this stage, who has the misfortune to have a soft or shy temper, remains to be considered.* If when you shew him the gun, or in any part of the progress he evinces any inclination to blink, or any uneasiness or terror, take him home directly, and let him alone until the season arrives. For a few weeks preceding this, let the person who is to attend you in the field, or any other you may select for the purpose, feed and make much of the whelp regularly, so as to get quite familiar with him. When you go out, let this person follow you at a distance with the dog in a rope. The shots may at first terrify him; but let him be made much of, and brought gradually nearer, until you can shew him a dead bird or two: this seldom fails to work wonders, and when more reconciled, the first winged bird generally breaks the neck of the difficulty: let him go up to the bird how he likes; and one or two days of this is almost always sure to put all to rights. He must still, nevertheless, be walked at a distance by the attendant, to teach him to drop out, and he must be made to lie down to each shot, and then brought up to the bird. When he lies down steadily and of his own accord to the shot, he is finished, and is to be treated as any other dog, in the way I shall

have occasion to mention when the actual business of the field comes to be generally noticed. I firmly maintain that these soft dogs make the best when hardened, and many a first-rate dog falls a victim to the gun or halter, through the impatience and ignorance of the breaker.

There is another argument in favour of high breaking, which, although it may be deemed problematical, and more calculated for a philosophical treatise than a matter to be introduced into practical directions, still as these remarks are wholly desultory, pretending to no rigid regularity, or assuming no absolute arrangement, I cannot help touching upon, as, if my mind is not altogether made up on the subject, I am at least humbly of opinion with Sir Roger de Coverley, "Much may be said on both sides." This is simply whether the progeny of well-broken dogs may or may not inherit some of these acquired habits of their parents? I shall quote on this subject the words of an anonymous author*, whose work, however, shews him to have been a man of much curious reflection:-"Every one conversant with beasts knows that not only their natural, but many of their acquired, qualities are transmitted by the parents to their offspring. Perhaps the most curious example of the latter fact may be found in the pointer. This animal is endowed with the natural instinct of winding game, and stealing on his prey, which he surprises, having first made a short pause in order to launch himself upon it with more security of success. This semicolon in his proceedings man converts into a

full stop, and teaches him to be as much pleased at seeing the bird or beast drop by the shooter's gun as at taking it himself. The aboriginal pointer is of Spanish origin, and our own is derived from this race, crossed with that of the fox-hound, or some other kind of dogs, for the sake of improving his speed. This factitious pointer is, however, disciplined into staunchness; and this quality is inherited by his puppy, who may be seen earnestly standing at sparrows or pigeons in a farm yard. The preference of his master afterwards guides him in his selection, and teaches him what game is better worthy pursuit. On the other hand, the pointer of pure Spanish race, unless he happens to be well broke himself (which in the South of Europe seldom happens), produces a race which are all but unteachable, according to notions of a pointer's business. They will make a stop at their game as natural instinct prompts them, but seem incapable of being drilled into the habits of the animal which education has formed in this country, and has rendered, as I have said, in some degree capable of transmitting his acquirements to his descendants."

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If there be truth and fact in this, and I am very much inclined to think that there is a great deal (laugh who likes), it is well worthy the attention of every genuine sportsman who may wish to be as near the mark as possible, to say nothing of the immensity of trouble, time, labour, and vexation it will save him.

I am, Sir, yours, &c.
A QUARTOGENARIAN.

July 10, 1832.

1825.

I

SIR,

Found lately on the floor of my study the inclosed paper, which appears to be intended for your Work (dropped by some person who had doubtless visited me in the morning). If you deem it worth insertion, it is at your service; and I will keep a sharp look out on all scraps which may again be found in the studio, and not permit my Abigail to consign any papers (which she is very handy in doing) to the grate. Yours obediently,

GILBERT FORESTER.

THERE is, probably, no reflection more pleasing to a sports man on his return to 66 merry old England" from a foreign climate, than that he is once more in the country which has carried his favorite amusement to its utmost excellence. Fired in his youth by glowing descriptions of the stupendous sport met with in other countries, and irritated, perhaps, by the tenaciousness of his neighbours, he has visited every part of the habitable globe, spent the meridian of his life in pursuing the game of stranger lands, and returns exulting to his own paternal estate, convinced at last, by hard-earned experience, that "there is no place like home."

It might be imagined, that as danger constitutes a great part of the attraction of the chase, the greater the risk the greater would be the enjoyment; and, therefore, that the lion, tiger, or chamois hunt would bear the palm over English sport: but it must be remembered that the risk at

tending English sport is of a character very different from that which accompanies it in other countries. In England the chase offers few, if any, perils to the experienced, and there is consequently a pride and a pleasure in evincing the dexterity which overcomes them-in other climes the most wary may fall.

A sportsman in the East, who, like the Americans*, can put a ball through the eye of a swallow as it flies, finds his aim no protection against the scorpion; and the daring conqueror of the lion not unfrequently falls by the bite of a serpent.

In the Western hemisphere there are dangers likewise, but they are not attractive: the fear of being swept away by a mountain torrent adds no pleasure to the chase; but, such is the soul of a thorough-bred sportsman, that he will rather brave the fury of all the elements than forego his amusement.

It happened to me some years back to accompany a couple of sporting friends through the woods of Trinidad; and, as your readers may not be acquainted with the nature of tropical sport, an account of our excursion may not be unacceptable. It was on one of those fine mornings which perhaps are unequalled in any other part of the world for their soft and yet invigorating coolness, that my friend B and De L-, accompanied each by his man servant, summoned me to join them in a day's sport. In a few minutes my preparations