is not ours. Thus much we for our modesty premise, and there's an end on't.

There is in the heart of every Briton a lingering love of Nature. Our city poets, who hardly know the name of a flower, babble of green fields, as the tavern-haunting, sack-swigging fat Sir John did on his death-bed. All his sad life could not expunge the early impressions of boyhood; and albeit he had wickedly and selfishly courted, for vile lucre, the somewhat questionable Mrs Quickly, sitting by a sea-coal city fire, his waning life drifted back for a fleet moment to the age of youth, when he sighed to his

"Amaryllis in the bowers

Of youthful love, and life was pure and good."

The ambitious statesman, the enterprising merchant, the plodding tradesman, all long for the day when leisure shall permit them to retreat to their Sabine farm. And when that day arrives, how often, alas! has the mind become all unfit for peaceful retirement; the otium comes, but the dignitas is not enjoyed; life stagnates, and death quickly closes the scene. The bow has been too long strung to give the elastic rebound; but had it, as skilful archer's practise, had the string always slackened after severe effort, it might have much longer held good, until the inherent infirmity of all organic matter "had touched its frame with slow but sure decay." Our object in the following discursive and random notes is to awake a love of field sports, as the most innocent means of maintaining and restoring health, a belief which we hold in common with the wisest of men. Hear COTTON, in his "Vision of Health:"

"The virgin is averse to courts,
But often seen in rural sports;
When in her rosy vest the morn
Walks o'er the dew-bespangled lawn,
The nymph is first to form the race

Or wind the horn, and lead the chase."

Precisely so, and to the chase COTTON would have added the trigger and the angle, only he had never happened to meet the nymph equipped for the mountain or the flood, although we have, and therefore think ourselves much greater than COTTON, quite superfine SILK, in point of fact.

Coming down from our stilts then, here is January, with his twofold face, waiting patiently for a few remarks. And a double face, indeed, has he shown of late years; and it may be doubted whether or not he is really January any longer, but that he has changed places with April. But perhaps he will yet take a thought and mend, forego his evil ways, and return to the honest old times of frost and snow. Did Fenton foresee his latter conduct when

he penned this stanza?—

"Janus! great leader of the rolling year,

Since all that's past no vows can e'er restore,

But joys and griefs alike, once hurried o'er,

No longer now deserve a smile or tear;
Close the fantastic scenes-but grace
With brightest aspect thy fore-face,-
While Time's new offspring hasten to appear.
With lucky omens guide the coming Hours,
Command the circling Seasons to advance,

And form their renovated dance

With flowing pleasures fraught, and blessed by friendly powers."

The best of the shooting season is now over, and crack sportsmen have generally laid aside the gun to mount the brown-leather tops and get across the pig-skin.

Covert shooting is, however, still in its zest, and this is the very hey-day of wildfowl shooting from punts and boats. To get within shot of ducks on open water is difficult, if not rightly managed. A boat propelled by oars is useless. A stout boat, rigged with mainsail and jib, should be manoeuvred so as to gain the weather-gage of the birds, and then with a slack sheet be run right on them—not a finger being shown outside of the gunwale, and the crew sitting motionless. The birds will allow the near approach of the boat, and then fly towards it, and give shots in passing. If two or three birds are seen to separate from the main flock, follow the former, which will sit close, manoeuvring as before. Heavy shot, No. 1 or 2, is required, to penetrate the mass of feathers and down which form the winter coat of aquatic birds. Fire well in advance of ducks crossing, as they fly very quickly and steadily, and always at the furthest out birds when going from you.

Partridge shooting is still open, but the birds are now wild, and shooting should be conducted with moderation, with a view to maintaining a good breeding stock. Do not therefore persecute the birds in the afternoon by too urgent pursuit. Partridges are fond of the fields in which they have been bred,-and, although you may be sure to find them there, it is imprudent to push the knowledge of this fact to extremity, else they will seek fresh fields and pastures new.

Hares are mostly to be found in the open fields, preferring wheat stubbles and fallow; if the coverts or hedgebanks be dry and thick, the timid short-tails may also be there fallen in with.

But hares, poor timid creatures, endowed with extreme caution for self-preservation, frequently shift their quarters

"As wandering shepherds on the Arabian plains

No settled residence observe, but shift

Their moving camp, now, on some cooler hill
With cedars crowned, court the refreshing breeze;
And then, below, where trickling streams distil
From some penurious source, their thirst allay,
And feed their fainting flocks: so the wise hares
Oft quit their seats, lest some more curious eye
Should mark their haunts."-SOMERVILLE.

Pheasants and rabbits form the staple of covert shooting. The latter may be cut down in any number, as they should never be over-preserved, and there will always be enough for sport on suitable ground, where other game is preserved. The intelligent gamekeeper will now begin to have a proper estimate of the remaining number of his pheasants and the proportion of the sexes. The very best pheasant breeders keep in confinement one cock to two or three hens. There is not a more common mistake, therefore, than to shoot down the cocks unmercifully, and trust the next season's stock to the number of hens. Both should be shot off proportionately, and especially all very old hens, which can readily be distinguished by their dark plumage. These old birds are non-productive. Two-year-old hens are best; and cocks of three years are in their prime. Kill off every party-coloured cock. All such departures from normal colours are evidences of disease. In coverts there should be at least one cock to five hens, and if this proportion of cocks be not on the ground, they should be procured, and turned out not later than the 1st of February. Pheasants to

--

breed in confinement should be put together immediately, observing the due proportion of one cock to three hens. Intending breeders should not lose a day now in forwarding their object.

Roe-deer are now at their very best season. They may be beaten for as woodcock are, some of the best sportsmen being placed at passes, and using heavy shot, to be certain of knocking them over, and firing at the shoulder. Beat always down the wind. Blowy weather is the most suitable. Roes always lie on the windward side of coverts, not far from the edge, and select dry knolls for their lairs. The does are now in young, and should be spared-but the flesh of the doe is the best venison. When a roe passes too quickly for aim, give a low whistle or cough, which will cause it to pause for an instant. Never fire at a roe looking towards you; we have seen them fired at in this position without effect at the distance of a few yards. Neither should they be fired at beyond sixty yards with heavy shot, nor thirty with No. 4. Small shot will kill them at nearer ranges,- —we have known one killed with No. 8.

Woodcock shooting near the coast is now good, but will be better next month. Clumber spaniels are the dogs for this sport.

Poetry again for this:

"Cool breathes the morning air, and winter's hand

Spreads wide her hoary mantle o'er the land;

Now to the copse thy lesser spaniel take,

Teach him to range the ditch, and force the brake;

Not closest coverts can protect the game:

Hark! the dog opens; take thy certain aim;

The woodcock flutters; how he wavering flies!

The wood resounds: he wheels, he drops, he dies."-GAY.