A SPORTSMAN OF OLDEN TIME.

I shall conclude this account of the officers of the forest with the singular character of one of them who lived in the times of James I. and Charles I.

The name of this memorable sportsman-for in that character alone was he conspicuous-was Henry Hastings. He was second son to the Earl of Huntingdon, and inherited a good estate in Dorsetshire from his mother. He was one of the keepers of New Forest, and resided in his lodge there during a part of every hunting-season. But his principal residence was at Woodlands, in Dorsetshire, where he had a capital mansion. One of his nearest neighbors was Anthony Cooper, afterward Earl of Shaftesbury. Two men could not be more opposite in their dispositions and pursuits. They seldom saw each other, and their occasional meetings were still more disagreeable to both, from their opposite sentiments in politics. Lord Shaftesbury, who was the younger man, was the survivor; and the following account of Mr. Hastings, which I have somewhat abridged, is said to have been the production of his pen. If Mr. Hastings had been the survivor, and had lived to have seen Lord Shaftesbury one of the infamous ministers of Charles II., he might, with interest, have returned the compliment.

Mr. Hastings was low of stature, but strong and active; of a ruddy complexion, with flaxen hair. His clothes were always of green cloth. His house was of the old fashion, in the midst of a large park, well stocked with deer, rabbits, and fish-ponds. He had a long, narrow bowling-green in it, and used to play with round sand-bowls. Here, too, he had a banqueting-room built, like a stand, in a large tree. He kept all sorts of hounds that ran buck, fox, hare, otter, and badger; and had hawks of all kinds, both long and short winged. His great hall was commonly strewed with marrow-bones, and full of hawk-perches, hounds, spaniels, and terriers; the upper end of it was hung with fox-skins of this and the last year's killing. Here and there a polecat was intermixed, and hunters' poles in great abundance. The parlor was a large room, completely furnished in the same style. On a broad hearth, paved with brick, lay some of the choicest terriers, hounds, and spaniels. One or two of the great chairs had litters of cats in them, which were not to be disturbed. Of these, three or four always attended him at dinner, and a little white wand lay by his trencher to defend it if they were too troublesome. In the windows-which were very largelay his arrows, cross-bows, and other accoutrements. The corners of the room were filled with his best hunting and hawking poles. His oyster-table stood at the lower end of the room, which was in constant use twice a day, all the year round, for he never failed to eat oysters, both

at dinner and supper, with which the neighboring town of Pool supplied him. At the upper end of the room stood a small table with a double desk, one side of which held a church Bible, the other the Book of Martyrs. On different tables in the room lay hawk's-hoods; bells; old hats, with their crowns thrust in, full of pheasant eggs; tables; dice; cards; and a store of tobacco-pipes. At one end of this room was a door which opened into a closet, where stood bottles of strong beer and wine, which never came out but in single glasses, which was the rule of the house; for he never exceeded himself, nor permitted others to exceed. Answering to this closet was a door into an old chapel-which had been long disused-for devotion: but in the pulpit, at the safest place, was always to be found a cold shin of beef, a venison pasty, a gammon of bacon, or a great apple-pie, with thick crust, well baked. His table cost him not much, though it was good to eat at. His sports supplied all but beef and mutton, except on Fridays, when he had the best of fish. He never wanted a London pudding; and he always sang it in with "My part lies therein-a-." He drank a glass or two of wine at meals, put syrup of gilliflowers into his sack, and had always a tun-glass of small beer standing by him, which he often stirred about with rosemary. He lived to be an hundred, and never lost his eyesight, nor used spectacles. He got on horseback without help, and rode to the death of the stag till past fourscore.

WILLIAM GILPIN, 1724-1807.

SONNET.

Old Harry Hastings! of thy forest life

How whimsical, how picturesque the charms!
Yet it was sensual! With thy hounds and horn,
How cheerily didst thou salute the morn!
With airy steed didst thou pursue the strife,
Sounding through all the woodland-glades alarms.
Sunk not a dell, and not a thicket grew,

But thy skill'd eye and long experience knew.
The herds were thy acquaintance; antler'd deer
Knew where to trust thy voice, and where to fear;
And through the shadowy oaks of giant size,

Thy bugle could the distant sylvans hear,

And wood-nymphs from their bowery bed would rise,
And echoes dancing round repeat their ecstasies.

SIR EGERTON BRYDGES, 1762-1837.

SONNET.

There is exhilaration in the chase

Not bodily only! Bursting from the woods,
Or having climb'd some misty mountain's height,
When on our eyes a glorious prospect opes,
With rapture we the golden view embrace:
Then worshiping the sun on silver floods,
And blazing towers, and spires, and cities bright
With his reflected beams; and down the slopes

The tumbling torrents; from the forest-mass

Of darkness issuing, we with double force Along the gayly-checker'd landscape pass,

And, bounding with delight, pursue our course.

It is a mingled rapture, and we find

The bodily spirit mounting to the mind.

SIR EGERTON BRYDGES, 1762-1887.

LINES.

This world a hunting is

The prey, poor man; the Nimrod fierce is Death;

His speedy grayhounds are

Lust, sickness, envy, care,

Strife that ne'er falls amiss,

With all those ills that harm'd us while we breathe.

Now if by chance we fly,

Of these the eager chase,

Old age, with stealing pace,

Casts on us his nets, and then we panting die.

WILLIAM DRUMMOND, 1585-1649.