they rolled him over in A—. It was a fine sporting run of an hour and forty minutes, with a handsome kill!' Further comment is unnecessary, such barbarity speaks for itself, and is little removed from the indefensible brutality of hare-coursing. On the other hand, in favour of our plea, the publicity given to the protest raised against an infamous run of the other day is a good sign of the feeling of the times. I allude to that run in which the poor fox, after a gallant race, took shelter in the dining-room of a house, but was not even then awarded the honour of keeping his beautiful brush. Why should the sentiment expressed by sportsmen for the hounds not be extended to the quarry? The quarry forecasts the hunting morning when it senses unseen hounds and men. The joy of the hounds at the unseen huntsman's approach upon that morning is but equalled by the painful terror of the hunted. The sport is all the more deficient in fair play from the fact that the fox-hounds of to-day have been bred up to a far higher standard of excellence than in former days. Indeed it is said that they have very nearly attained perfection, while the fox, if not deteriorating, has at least gained nothing in strength and endurance. Acquaintance with the methods of the 'chasse à courre,' English stag-hunting, fox-hunting, and hare-coursing, suggest comparison in which the picturesque dignity and scientific procedure of the 'chasse à courre' stand out undeniably conspicuous. The veneurs do not hunt hinds. Nor do they accept the services of any fugitive but the one started for the day's amusement. To change the quarry belongs not to the laws of La Grande Vénerie. But such comparison presents but one conclusion, that in shades of cruelty there is little to choose between them. Shall we say with a shrug or a cry' Que voulez-vous ? Humanity is low, very low, and that is all' ? Meanwhile, as if adhering to the carte blanche and as the 'amie de circonstance,' I have written of the hunted, believing that to chase animals to death is a selfish conspiracy of the stronger against the weaker-ignoble, unjust. That it is an assertion of the will which, as Schopenhauer puts it, is an assertion of the body. Just and high thoughts spring from the intelligence, so in the evolution of the world, then, there is hope-hope for the coming day when intelligence must reign supreme, above the sensual, now dominating will. For love is a prayer all-potent. In a certain Eastern stone we find the symbol, that most precious of all precious gems, which scintillates light, manifests 'intra-atomic energy' throughout the ages. It has a traditional name-The Angels' Seal. . . . Shall we who plead for justice—justice for the pursued, not plead for the pursuers? surely, we who know the passion of pursuit? A problem faces us. How to retain the nobler elements of the chase and eliminate the base? Among the best riders to hounds are those who assert that their thoughts are not concentrated on the fate of the quarry, but on the methods of the pack they follow. That in the emulation of the race is their courage stirred, stimulated by that of the sentient horses they sit, by the pace of the hounds, their own dexterity, their skill and knowledge of the country, when put to the utmost test. Many a brave sportsman would prefer that a fox should wear his brush for many seasons to come. The bravest of sportsmen will be that one who first makes for reform by promoting the inauguration of a chase on the lines of justice. Will not some genius discover and develop such a system ? Great riders, notably those who have hunted in Meath-called Royal Meath because of the sporting runs that country affords-testify to the merits of the well-laid drag-hunt. The very best runs on record, they claim, were due to the experience, the skill, the subtle craft of first-rate and superbly mounted drag leaders or riders, who, knowing the country and obstacles by heart, so laid their plans that the skill of horse and rider, and trained methods of the pack, were put to exceptional test. If the delight of the chase is not in the tracking down and torturing to death the wild creatures entrusted to us, not in the scoring blood, nor in the savage instinct inherent in uncivilised man to kill, then, in the rapture of a magnificent gallop and scientific chase, we should have the fulfilment of our desire. With human skill pitted against human skill, method of pursuit against method of escape, drag rider, hunters and hounds would have their courage and skill evenly and individually at stake. We want a real hunt, no make-believe. But in demanding the real we are reminded not to mistake shadow for substance. The substance which evokes the enthusiasm of the followers, we repeat, is not the taking of the animal, but the adventures of their ride, their dare-devil risks. It is a race for who shall be 'nearest the brush.' The genius among drag riders or leaders would be he who understands the inner side of hunting-the true inwardness of the chase. Masters and huntsmen who know how to breed for hounds of great speed, for powers of nose and endurance, would still be necessary. The drag rider would be one learned in the habits of the wild creatures, well up in lore of forest and field. There is not a quip or crank which we see exercised by the instinct of the terrorised hunted in self-defence for which the drag leader should not be able to substitute a ruse of his own. The elements of uncertainty which go to make up a day's sport, such as losing and finding, would still exist. The masterly casts to recover lines would still have to be exercised. Look how with us the 'trompe de chasse' has gone down in the last few years, yet, to describe the chasse à courre' in action, what a splendid adjunct it is, signalling as it does every movement of the quarry to alert followers and listening hounds by the distinguishing notes of a special fanfare blown by one observer alone, or in a concerted blast! Why should not the story of a refined chase in action be in the future told by every artistic and scientific embellishment, such as fanfare sounded on the winding horn-the great 'trompe de chasse '-and be accompanied with every fit decoration in colour and sound which with purpose we can devise. A blast as the drag-leader's challenge, a start -his second call-the huntsman's sonorous answer-the hunt are off, with do and dare' the motto for all, across the open, through flying forests and fields. That could be no dull chase. The hounds, it will be argued, will not run without a strong incentive; but to provide a treat at the finish of the best and strongest would not be difficult-all that is most luscious to suit their canine taste. Let them capture their prize in the open, in forest or river, lake, cave, or sea. . Let the Attaque,' the 'Débucher,' the 'Vue,' and the 'Bien Aller,' the Vol ce l'est,' the 'Bat l'eau,' the 'Hallali,' the 'Curée,' or any other historical fanfares sounded in appropriate order, rouse the limitless echoes of our sphere, and speak through those etheric regions which we dimly begin to discern through boundless space. Those fanfares would do more than sound their practical purpose if, in immortalising the martyrdom of those four-footed heroes in the past, they reminded us that we are in the presence of a progressive, judging Unseen, progressing always in spirit. To the call of the horn Nature's child awakes, for the very name of hunt with horse and hound' arouses thrilling memories of the gazouillement de la forêt,' of the joy of wrestling with the smiting breezes sweet stings that strike the blood in riding. Think of a chase exalted, just and clean, where selfish lust and cruelty would have no place, where love, goodwill, keen sensuous delight would reign. We should know mirth and frolic, feel the very laughter of wild Nature in our hearts; of a passion of the soul we should have foretaste-Hell left behind us, Heaven open wide before us. Come dew, the Light of the eternal springs! ... JANEY SEVILLA CAMPBELL. THE FIRMNESS OF CONSOLS ، CONSOLS It has been remarked by De Quincey that the English nation has always had a special delight in being alarmed, and in being clearly convinced that it is and ought to be on the brink of ruin.' This observation was made in connection with a treatise published 'somewhere about the year 1755' by the once celebrated Dr. Brown,' now, by one of the tricksy pranks of ironical fate, reserved for immortality by the trouncing that his absurdities received from the hands of De Quincey, by way of introduction to an essay on the Revolution of Greece. It appears that the said Doctor took up the conceit that England was ruined at her heart's core by excess of luxury and sensual self-indulgence. He had persuaded himself that the ancient activities and energies of the country were sapped by long habits of indolence and by a morbid plethora of enjoyment in every class. Courage, and the old fiery spirit of the people, had gone to wreck with the physical qualities which had sustained them. . . . It was questionable whether a good hearty assault and battery, or a respectable knock-down blow, had been dealt by any man in London for one or two generations. The doctor carried his reveries as far that he satisfied himself and one or two friends (probably by looking into the parks at hours propitious to his hypothesis) that horses were seldom or ever used for riding; that, in fact, this accomplishment was too boisterous or too perilous for the gentle propensities of modern Britons, and that, by the best accounts, few men of rank or fashion were now seen on horseback. This pleasant collection of dreams did Dr. Brown solemnly propound to the English public, in two octavo volumes, under the title of An Estimate of the Manners and Principles of the Times, and the report of many who lived in those days assures us that for a brief period the book had a prodigious run. The effusion which roused De Quincey's healthy scorn is only one example among many similar jeremiads which have achieved brief popularity during the lifetime of English literature. The shout of 'Actum est de republica' will always attract plenty of listeners among a people that is almost morbidly conscious of its defects, and the eager -apparently almost flattered-readiness of the average Englishman to give ear to any prophet who will tell him that his country is going to the dogs, is still an outstanding feature of the national character. This special delight in being alarmed was exemplified in a striking manner at the end of March, when a combination of circumstances quickened the speed of the downward movement in the price of Consols which has been a more or less existent feature of the financial history of the past decade. The fall in Consols was welcomed as a dire portent, presaging the financial downfall of England and indicating rottenness in the City. It became popular 'copy,' dressed out in headlines and excluding even All the Winners' from the contents bills. Experts gleefully rubbed in the statement that Consols had not been so low since 1866, and the fun became fast and furious when a political flavour was added to the discussion, and the tumble in the leading British Government security was wholly attributed to the Socialistic proclivities of the present Administration. It is only fair to the Tory publicists who barked so loudly up this tree, to point out that some of their Radical brethren vied with them and beat them. The fall in Consols, which, as will be shown later, was only an outstanding incident in a general decline among securities of a certain class, was accompanied by a similar movement in London County Council Stock. The Moderate victory had happened just before, and this event was connected, by implication, if not by actual statement, with the subsequent fall in the market price of London's credit. Of the two contentions, the latter is certainly the finer effort of political special pleading as applied to financial matters. There is a spice of truth in the statement that the Government's reputation for Socialistic leanings frightened holders into selling their stock, though the extent to which this happened was probably quite insignificant, and the force of the movement, if it had any, has long ago spent itself. Still, it is undoubtedly a fact that in the early days of the rule of the present Ministry a few investors sold their Consols in fear of Socialism; and it is another fact—and an infinitely diverting one-that some of them solemnly put the money realised by the sale of Socialistically tainted Consols into the loans of certain Australasian colonies, in which most of the tendencies and ideals which are here damned as Socialism are in the full swing of paramount predominance. To this very limited extent, then, those who used the fall in Consols as a stick to beat the Government withal may be said to have been justified. But the connexion of the fall in London County Council Stock with the Moderate victory was a profound and wholly baseless absurdity, as anyone who knows anything of City opinion will abundantly testify. Thus advertised by sensational journalism and political dialectics, the 'low price' of Consols became a nine days' wonder which agitated men's minds until the fine weather of the Easter holidays turned them into another direction, more especially as after Easter Consols went up again a little, though no intimation had been received that the Government had become less Socialistic. Nevertheless, now that the clamour has ceased, it may be worth while to consider quietly |