, for the
freedom of the world, conquer a future Waterloo--another who, hoisting
his flag on the "mast of some tall ammiral," shall, like Eliab Harvey in
the Temeraire, lay two three-deckers on board at once, and clothe some
now nameless peak or promontory in immortal glory, like that shining on
Trafalgar.

Well, then, after cat-killing comes Coursing. Cats have a look of
hares--kittens of leverets--and they are all called Pussy. The terriers
are useful still, preceding the line like skirmishers, and with finest
noses startling the maukin from bracken-bush or rush bower, her skylight
garret in the old quarry, or her brown study in the brake. Away with
your coursing on Marlborough downs, where huge hares are seen squatted
from a distance, and the sleek dogs, disrobed of their gaudy trappings,
are let slip by a Tryer, running for cups and collars before lords and
ladies, and squires of high and low degree--a pretty pastime enough, no
doubt, in its way, and a splendid cavalcade. But will it for a moment
compare with the sudden and all-unlooked-for start of the "auld witch"
from the bunweed-covered lea, when the throat of every pedestrian is
privileged to cry "halloo--halloo--halloo"--and whipcord-tailed
greyhound and hairy lurcher, without any invidious distinction of birth
or bearing, lay their deep breasts to the sward at the same moment, to
the same instinct, and brattle over the brae after the disappearing
Ears, laid flat at the first sight of her pursuers, as with retroverted
eyes she turns her face to the mountain, and seeks the cairn only a
little lower than the falcon's nest.

What signifies any sport in the open air, except in congenial scenery of
earth and heaven? Go, thou gentle Cockney! and angle in the New
River;--but, bold Englishman, come with us and try a salmon-cast in the
old Tay. Go, thou gentle Cockney! and course a suburban hare in the
purlieus of Blackheath;--but, bold Englishman, come with us and course
an animal that never heard a city-bell, by day a hare, by night an old
woman, that loves the dogs she dreads, and, hunt her as you will with a
leash and a half of lightfoots, still returns at dark to the same form
in the turf-dyke of the garden of the mountain cottage. The children,
who love her as their own eyes--for she has been as a pet about the
family, summer and winter, since that chubby-cheeked urchin, of some
five years old, first began to swing in his self-rocking cradle--will
scarcely care