Part 4

When field amusements are allowed to engross the whole of our attention, and in their pursuit to enslave, as it were, the mind to the body; when they become the ἔργα of life instead of the πάρεργα, its daily occupation, instead of the occasional recreation of its leisure hours; they constitute, as Rittershusius has well observed, a culpable θηρομανία, and certainly tend, by devoting the attention exclusively to inferior objects, to abridge the intellect of that sustenance which it should occasionally derive from more refined and important studies. “Fateor insitam esse nobis corporis nostri caritatem: fateor nos hujus gerere tutelam: non nego indulgendum illi, serviendum nego.”

With such ultra-sportsmen the translator has no community of sentiment: nor will they experience from common sense less severity of reproof than “Reason” bestows on them in the dialogue with “Joy” in Petrarch’s “Remedia Utriusque Fortunæ.” “Ad honestum nihil idonei,” says Ratio, “sylvas colunt, non vitam solitariam acturi, cui non minùs quàm politicæ se ineptos sciunt, sed feris, ac canibus, et volucribus convicturi, quod non facerent, nisi illis similitudine aliquâ juncti essent: qui, si ex hoc voluptatem quandam, seu solam temporis fugam quærunt, utrinque stulti, voti compotes forsan evaserint. Sin, nescio quam, seu ingenii, seu magnificentiæ gloriam aucupantur, errant,” &c.

The whole dialogue is an admirable rebuke of the licentious sporting in the days of this extraordinary genius. “Hic amor, hæc felicitas, et hoc totum, quod Creatori Deo, quod altrici patriæ, quod parentibus, quod amicis redditis? Quis vos ferat, ad aliud natos, in his vivere, si modo vivitis, hoc agentes?” says “Reason:” and I confess that I am unable and unwilling to furnish “Joy” with a reply of defence; approving, as I do, of the joint worship of Minerva and Diana, recommended by Tacitus to his correspondent Pliny, and of making the health of the body conducive to that of the mind: “ut sua menti constet sanitas,” says Christopher Wase to William Lord Herbert, “et justum corpori accedat robur.”

It must ever be borne in mind that the illustrious heroes of Xenophon’s classic file acquired not their renown by hunting prowess alone, but by its union with moral and intellectual endowments: ἐκ τῆς ἐπιμελείας τῆς τῶν κυνῶν καὶ κυνηγεσίων καὶ ἐκ τῆς ἄλλης παιδείας πολὺ διενεγκόντες κατὰ τὴν ἀρετὴν ἐθαυμάσθησαν. Chiron himself was invested with the privileges and science of the chase on account of his moral worth, διὰ δικαίοτητα—for he was δικαιοτάτος Κενταύρων. And the numerous disciples of the craft, distinguished in the annals of the world as practical sportsmen, from Cephalus and Æsculapius to Æneas and Achilles, left other claims on the notice of posterity than those attached to their characters as μαθηταὶ κυνηγεσίων.

know that such Transporting pleasures were by heav’n ordain’d Wisdom’s relief, and virtue’s great reward.

But it is time to cease both praise and reprehension: of the latter I have been sparing; of the former, perhaps, too liberal. Symmachus, “the wordy champion of expiring Paganism,” checks his friend and correspondent Agorius in boasting too much of his “nodosa retia vel pennarum formidines, et sagaces canes, omnemque rem venaticam, meliorum oblitus;” and suggests “quare cum scribis, memento facundiæ tuæ modum ponere. Rustica sunt et inculta, quæ loqueris, ut venator esse credaris.” Wherefore, being myself addicted only to one branch of the craft, viz. that of “greyhound-hunting,” in the phrase of our “pedant king,”

to nourishe up and fede The greyhounde to the course—

I am fearful of falling into the error of Agorius, and becoming obnoxious to the same rebuke. Enough, therefore: and now for an example.—Will the bookful recluse, the sedentary and learned oppositionist qualify the scorn with which he views our varied course of occupation in the library and the field, if we show him that our opinions and practice “liberalia studia sylvestri voluptate distinguere” are supported by a renowned example of antiquity; and direct his attention to the latter and sequestered part of the life “secretum iter, et fallentis semita vitæ” of the elder Xenophon, in contradiction of the refined antipathies of Sallust?—bid him contemplate the rival of Plato and Thucydides in his delightful retreat at Scillus, “under the protection of the temporal sovereignty of Lacedæmon, and the spiritual tutelage of Diana; diversifying the more refined pleasures of his studious hours with the active amusements of the field; breaking his dogs, training his horses, and attending to the breed of stock; registering the observations of his personal experience in these healthful pursuits with his own immortal pen; and affording an example to scholars in all ages, that they should not disdain to refresh their vigour, and renew their animation, by allowing the unharnessed faculties to recreate themselves freely in country sports, and exercise themselves agreeably in country business.”

O would men stay aback frae courts, An’ please themselves wi’ countra sports, It wad for every ane be better, The laird, the tenant, an’ the cotter!

I wish it were in our power to enrol the name of the accomplished Athenian among the first patrons of our particular branch of field-sports; but the greyhound was unknown to the son of Gryllus. We may, however, place the honour of the leash under the early patronage of his celebrated namesake: whose talents, as a military chief, were distinguished in the age in which he lived; whose works, as a philosopher and historian, have been transmitted with reputation to posterity, and continue to attract sufficient attention from the literary world, to embolden us in directing the notice of such of our opponents as consider the courser in a state of degraded existence, to the younger Xenophon, in his twofold capacity of a man of literature, and a patron of the leash. And we may conclude from the latter having been considered worthy the illustration of his pen, that coursing was not then classed with the “servilia officia” of rural life.

Before I proceed to the reasons which have induced me to lay before the public the following translation, I cannot resist availing myself of the opportunity, which a defence of the courser’s pursuit affords, of transcribing a spirited and highly poetical production of the late Mr. Barnard, of Brantinghamthorpe, breathing the refined sentiments of a gifted scholar and ardent courser, fired at the idea of his favourite sport, his greyhounds, and his mountain thoughts being lightly or disdainfully received in the world’s esteem!

MY GREYHOUNDS.

Remember’st thou my greyhounds true? O’er holt or hill there never flew, From leash or slip there never sprang, More fleet of foot or sure of fang.—Introd. to +Marmion+ Cant. +ii.+

Oh! dear is the naked wold to me, Where I move alone in my majesty! Thyme and cistus kiss my feet, And spread around their incense sweet; The laverock, springing from his bed, Pours royal greeting o’er my head; My gallant guards, my greyhounds tried, March in order by my side; And every thing that’s earthly born, Wealth and pride and pomp, I scorn; And chiefly thee Who lift’st so high thy little horn, Philosophy!

Wilt thou say that life is short, That wisdom loves not hunter’s sport, But virtue’s golden fruitage rather Hopes in cloister’d cells to gather? Gallant greyhounds, tell her, here Trusty faith, and love sincere— Here do grace and zeal abide, And humbly keep their master’s side. Bid her send whate’er hath sold Human hearts—lust, power, and gold— A cursed train— And blush to find, that on the wold They bribe in vain.

Then let her preach! the muse and I Will turn to Gracchus, Gaze, and Guy; And give to worth its proper place, Though found in nature’s lowliest race. And when we would be great or wise, Lo! o’er our heads are smiling skies; And thence we’ll draw instruction true, That worldly wisdom never knew. Then let her argue as she will! I’ll wander with my greyhounds still (Halloo! Halloo!) And hunt for health on the breeze-worn hill And wisdom too.

But enough—

εἰμὶ δ’ ἄσχολος ἀ- ναθέμεν πᾶσαν μακραγορίαν Λύρᾳ τε καὶ φθέγμα τι μαλθακῷ, μὴ κόρος ἐλθὼν Κνίσσῃ.

By my literary friends of the leash, who will alone probably condescend to open the following little treatise, it will be expected, after this too prolix defence of active field-amusements, and too selfish gratification of personal regret, that I should particularly state the reasons which have induced me to devote a few intervals of leisure to the version and illustration of an ancient courser, dignified by Mr. Gibbon with the title of “the eloquent and philosophic Arrian.”

A task so often thrown aside When leisure graver cares denied.

But an objection in limine must be first answered to a modern reader giving up any of the “horæ vacivæ” of his library even to the perusal of the cynegetical writers of antiquity, much less to their collation; as treating forsooth of lowly animals, in their nature irrational and ferine.

Should any one address me in the language of the old nurse to Phædra—

τί κυνηγεσίων καὶ σοὶ μελέτης;

or of Menedemus to Chremes—

Tantumne est ab re tuâ otii tibi Aliena ut cures, eaque nihil quæ ad te attinent?

I would reply, that I do not consider these authors as affording unsuitable mental recreation to any literary gentleman, be his vocation what it may; nor as rendering him amenable to the charge of Dr. Young of being “a polite apostate.” Saint Chrysostom, the most eloquent of the Greek fathers of the church, was so enamoured of Aristophanes, notwithstanding the malignity of his satire, his occasional obscenities, and licentious morals, as “to wake with him at his studies, and to sleep with him under his pillow:” and it was never “objected either to his piety or his preaching, even in those times of pure zeal and primitive religion.” To close the ancient cynegetica against the modern student, merely because the lowly quadruped, that gives a name to such works, forms a part of their subject-matter, pregnant in every page with innumerable other beauties, unconnected with the poor tyke, but scattered around him, would be (in an expressive simile of the author of “the Governour”) like “prohibiting a man to come into a fayre gardein, lest in gadring good and holsome herbes, he may happen to be stung with a netle”—“Semblaby yf a man doe rede wanton matter, myxt with wysdom, he putteth the worst under fote, and sorteth out the beste.”

But the “Scriptores Rei Venaticæ” are, of all others on the classic file, most chaste and pure of sentiment. The character bestowed by Price on Gratius in particular, is applicable to all collectively:

their style, their argument Is pleasant, rev’rend, candid, innocent.