an occasional exploit, but it is quite another thing habitually to ride for falls, as Mr. Smith did. He actually made a science of falling: he declared that 'all who profess to ride, should know how to fall.' In these days of hard words, this science of falling may be termed hippobathology.

George Carter, one of Tom Smith's huntsmen, told the truth about his master, and of most other great hunters: 'I ride to hunt, master hunts to ride.' So that a cynic might say Mr. Smith's hunting was an excuse for hard riding, and his riding an excuse for tumbling secundum artem. But Tom

Smith was not only clever at tumbling with his horse; he also was a dab at jumping or vaulting on to his horse. It is stated (Reminiscences), speaking of the meet:

No time, however, was lost in salutations, for business was to be done; so alongside of his hack the Squire's hunter was brought, and without dismounting he vaulted from one to the other, almost without rising from the saddle of the steed he quitted. This was always looked upon as an extrordinary feat of agility, and it could not have been performed without great muscular strength. Mr. Smith continued this practice almost up to the time of his death; and only two years before that event took place, he was stopping on horseback at the door of one of the clubs in St. James's-street, when a horse was brought up, of which his owner complained as being most difficult to manage. The Squire had him led up alongside of him, and jumped on his back in the usual style, although quite a stranger to him; when to the astonishment of every one, after a sharp turn or two had with

him up and down the street, he brought

him back as quiet as a lamb.

A few months before his death, Mr. Smith was in Rotten-row and at Tattersall's, as usual, on 'Blemish,' and when he rode into the ring one morning, and saw Rarey driving his zebra round it, he made his servant bring his horse alongside, and quite gloried in showing the

celebrated American how he could still change horses in a run without dismounting.-(Silk and Scarlet, 284.)

Now it is rather more than eccentric for a gentleman to amuse the spectators in public places with such gymnastic feats

as these, which are usually confined to the circus.

It is a trite remark, that a man's profession gives a certain tinge to all his actions, and even his thoughts. A clergyman enjoying an evening stroll with his son, the son said,What a singular cloud; it looks like a shepherdess.' 'To me,' said the ecclesiastic, 'it seems to resemble a cathedral.' During the panic created among the agriculturists by the idea of free trade, a worthy farmer remarked to Mr. Smith that the cultivation of corn would soon cease. 'So much the better,' said the Squire, for then I shall hunt over a grass country.'

One of the notes to the Reminiscences is headed 'Dick Christian's Hero-Worship of Mr. Assheton Smith.' 'On my last visit,' says Druid, 'I found Dick Christian firmer than ever in his hero-worship of Mr. Assheton Smith, Sir James Musgrave, and Captain White.' And it seems that Mr. Assheton Smith accepted this worship. Nothing,' says Sir William Miles, with Tom Smith that was his own could be bad, however much the performance might militate against recognised rules.' When hounds are running, the closer they keep together, the nearer perfection. This happens with a good scent, either in full cry, or breast high and mute; they are then said to be 'streaming.' If, on the contrary, some lag behind, the result of a bad scent, the hounds being tired, or an uneven pack, they are said to be 'tailing. But on one occasion, when Mr. Smith's hounds were 'tailing,' he cried out, Look, what a beautiful stream.' Were it not that nothing could be wrong that Mr. Smith did, it would appear that he was at least once guilty of a most marvellously unsportsmanlike act. It is stated (Reminiscences, p. 287) :—

Finding the foxes hung in cover in a place called Southgrove-that is, the cunning animals declined to leave the protection of the bushes in order to afford the field the pleasure of a run, though Mr. Smith tried to persuade them to turn out by the eloquent crash

1860.]

of forty couple of dogs-Mr. Smith being thus baffled for the day, said, 'I will try another plan next week, and see if I do not make them fly or die.' Accordingly, on the next hunting day, the field of huntsmen were surprised, as well they might be, to find a number of fires lighted at intervals of about one hundred yards all through the principal rides. This succeeded. No sooner were the hounds thrown in, than off went two or three foxes, no doubt ignorant of the cause quæ tantum accideret ignem.

Now, who ever before or since heard of such a proceeding in civilized warfare against foxes? Some one soon afterwards asking where was the steward of the owner of Southgrove, that fine old sportsman, the Reverend Fulwar Fowle, replied, "Do you not know that he is gone to the Sun Fire Office to insure Southgrove ?"

As regards parsons hunting, it seems that not a few clergymen were of Mr. Smith's 'sporting congregation,' and they were never far in the rear of the forward squire. Fox-hunting in the clergy is now, however, looked upon as a clerical error; yet there are still counties where it is not uncommon to meet a parson in the field. North Devon will long remember the late Parson Froude (not the Archdeacon), the keenest of sportsmen, and breeder of one of the best packs ever followed; it is said, indeed, that the reverend whip would follow hare, deer, or even (horresco referens) a polecat, sooner than keep his darling dogs idle. It was a clergyman who wrote those admirable articles in the Sporting Magazine which_appeared under the nom de plume of Uncle Scribble.' 'But Uncle Scribble, as the head of a most successful boarding-school, writes no more.'*

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is just the place to make my colt a good timber-jumper,' said the squire, 'so you shut the gate, and ride away fast from the fence.' This was accordingly done, when the squire rode at the rails, which Jack taking with his breast, gave both himself and his rider such a fall that their respective heads were looking towards the fence they had ridden at. Up rose both at the same time as if nothing very particular had happened. 'Now,' said Tom Smith, this will be the making of the horse. Just do as you did before, and ride away.' Edge did so, and Jack flew the rails without touching, and was a first-rate timber-jumper from that day. What made the feat more remarkable was, that it did not come off in a run, but in what is called 'cold blood.'

Now, this proceeding was wrong, both on principle and in detail. Captain Nolan, in his book on the History of Cavalry and on the training of horses, sets out with the golden rule laid down by the great Greek horseman more than a thousand years ago—'HORSES ARE TAUGHT, NOT BY HARSHNESS BUT BY GENTLENESS;' and this is the maxim of the celebrated Mr. Rarey. The method to teach a colt is laid down thus-If a colt has not been trained to leap, as it should be, by following its dam before it is mounted, take it into the fields and let it follow well-trained horses over easy fences and low ditches, slowly, without fuss, and as part of the ride, not backwards and forwards.' The same writer says in different places A colt should only be ridden by a man who is paid to risk his bones.'-'Any hard-headed fool can ride boldly.'-'It is madness to ride at a gate or stile with a doubtful horse.' A colt accompanying a horse always wants to follow that horse, so that Tom Edge should have taken his horse over the fence first; by taking his horse through the gate, the colt wanted to follow that way and was reluctant to go over the fence. But the colt ought on no account to have been put at an oaken rail for his first jump. It is true Mr. Smith succeeded in this case, but he might have killed himself or the colt, or both. What

owner of a valuable colt would not discharge his groom or trainer with disgrace, who put a colt to a new double oak rail-fence to teach it timber jumping? It was no doubt a plucky thing to do, like the Balaclava charge: pleasant, but wrong. To use Dr. Johnson's words, we admire the intrepid ignorance of the act. Of such a proceeding better say, laudatur et algetur: let it be praised, but avoided. It was the foolhardy act of a daring rider. No doubt it succeeded; but what then? Such exceptions prove the rule. At a review before Frederick the Great a man's cap fell off. The King had the man flogged. No more hats fell off; but was the King right? Sometimes in this world people get praised for doing foolish things; as when a Dutch and English ship being at anchor near each other, a rivalry arose between the crews in daring actions. A Dutch tar stood on his head on the truck of the mast-head. An English sailor did the like, but overbalanced himself, and down he came on deck, but the rigging broke his fall, so that he was not dangerously hurt, and up he jumped, and cried out, 'There, which of you will do that?' His captain immediately gave him five guineas.

now;

Squire Smith appears to have been somewhat exigeant. When he was at Belvoir Castle he got up early and breakfasted alone; and on one occasion he was not satisfied with the breakfast prepared for him, and complained to the footman who waited upon him that he did not think he had the attention given to him to which he was entitled; the Duke's servant received the rebuke in silence; but on the following morning, when Mr. Smith came down to breakfast, all the footmen in the castle entered the room in their state liveries, and took their station round the table. The Duke, to whom his guest's complaint had been reported, feeling satisfied that every attention had been paid to Mr. Smith, took this effectual mode of reproving his testy humour.-(Reminiscences, page 143). At another time he com

plained of the scarcity of muffins, upon which the servants received orders to pour in upon him a perpetual stream of muffins; each footman presented to the bewildered Squire a succession of hot plates, the chorus being 'Muffins, Mr. Smith.'

It is stated in the Reminiscences (page 126), that Mr. Smith was not personally popular, being more admired than liked. This is a grave charge against the keeper of a splendid pack of hounds, hunting daily, backed by the magnificent income of £45,000 a year. Mr. Smith was unfortunately bad tempered, being an exception to the rule that a bad-tempered man cannot be a good horseman. Even the laudatory Reminiscences contain too many instances in which Squire Smith had recourse to his fists and his whip. It is to be regretted that hunting had not the same softening effect on Mr. Smith that it had on Charles IX. (of St. Bartholomew memory), of whom Millet says, 'Born with a violent character, he softened his soul by the fury of the chase,' 'Né avec un caractère violent, il s'etait endoucé l'ame par la fureur de la chasse.'

We hope, for the credit of the hunting field, that some unhappy ebullitions of temper recorded in the Reminiscences will not be taken as specimens of hunting manners or feelings. Once, after a severe run in Leicestershire, when the fox was sinking, Mr. Smith found his horse in a like condition. 'Oh! if I had but a fresh horse,' said Mr. Smith, 'I would soon settle him.' Get upon mine,' said Mr. John Cook, who was riding 'Lancet,' a famous horse of great value. The offer was accepted, and the 'whoop' soon followed. Instead, however, of the expected panegyric when the horse was restored to the owner, the remark of the Squire was, 'I heard he was a plater, but he is as slow as a donkey.' The fact is, he was annoyed at his own horse being beaten.

'Why do you lie there, howling and exposing yourself? said he to a rustic, whom his horse had slightly kicked. 'My dear Tom,'

said his more feeling friend, Mr. Henry Pierrepoint, the man is hurt, and why so rough with him? 'On principle,' rejoined the Squire; if I had pitied him he would have been there for a week, but now you see he is up and well already.'

The Squire said, 'Why do you lie there howling? on principle.' It is singular how frequently, when anything particularly wrong or absurd is perpetrated, we are told it is on principle.' If, mutatis mutandis, the rustic had asked the Squire why he lay there howling, should we or should we not have called the rustic a brutal fellow? Lord Chesterfield, writing to his son nearly one hundred years ago, says, letter 260, The French manner of hunting is gentlemanlike; ours only fit for bumpkins and boobies; the poor beasts here are pursued and run down by much greater beasts than themselves.'

6

6

Again we hope that the following is not a fair sample of the judgment or morale of hunters. A fox having been 'lost' in a farmyard, was found in a corn-bin, in a sack. Now, sir,' said the Squire to Mr. Dickman, give an account of yourself, or you or I shall have as good a licking as one man can give another.' 'Please, sir,' said Dickman, 'I zeed a fox come into the yard, and thinking that Parson Lance's hounds were worriting the poor crittur, I cotches him up, and was a going to take him over to Squire Smith of Penton.' This pacified the Squire, who putting his hands in his pocket, and turning his cuffs down again, said, 'Your excuse is a good one, and here is half a crown for it, although I do

619

not believe a word of what you say.' Here is an instance of a gentleman giving the rustic the lie, and then giving him half a crown either for telling the lie, or else for intending to do that to Parson Lance which the Squire was ready to lick the man for doing to him.e., hiding the fox away. This must have been done on 'principle.' Nothing else could account for behaviour so irrational and improper.

Mr. Smith's ability caused him to be first of his class, but his class was not of the first. Few celebrated men have been fox-hunters, and no celebrated man has ever been a celebrated fox-hunter. Foxhunting as a relaxation is one thing, but to pursue this amusement as the great object of life is quite another matter; it then degenerates into mere strenuous idleness.' Boswell, in his Life of Johnson, relates that Sir Joshua Reynolds observed, that_the_real character of a man was found out by his amusements. Johnson added, 'Yes, sir; no man is a hypocrite in his amusements.' An artillery officer who thoroughly enjoys a hunt now and then, said of a brother officer in the line, 'I'll give you an idea of the sort of man he is: whenever he gets leave of absence, away he goes - does nothing but hunt every day as if he had been bitten by a mad centaur.' 'A man who never hunts,' said he, 'is a muff; a man who hunts every day is a fool.' Mr. Assheton Smith, however, was decidedly an exception to the rule of this artillery officer, for he was no fool, though he hunted six days in the week.

W. S. A.

OUR

UR former article on the Propensities, according to Phrenology, did not exhaust the list. We will now advert to the remainder, and then proceed to the present subject.

7. Secretiveness. The first instance that suggested to Gall the locality of this organ, was a friend of his own, who possessed good abilities and amiable qualities, but with an extraordinary disposition for cunning and finesse. Combe defines the propensity as the motive for expressing that free outward expression of our feelings and ideas, which would be the natural tendency of the mind, but for some such motive. It is an instinctive tendency to conceal, and the legitimate object of it is, to restrain the outward expression of our thoughts and emotions till the understanding shall have pronounced judgment on its propriety. A fool,' says Solomon, uttereth all his mind; but a wise man keepeth it in till afterwards.'

The existence of a greater secretiveness in some persons than in others, is as certain as the explanation of it by a primitive faculty of our nature is doubtful. So many obvious motives can be assigned for concealment and reserve, that it would be in the last degree difficult to assure us of there being a tendency to conceal without any motive. The inconveniences of too great openness soon suggest, to a mind of common prudence, the propriety of a certain amount of reserve; and a habit arises of putting a restraint upon the natural outspokenness of the original disposition. Secretiveness is a grand instrument of power to ourselves, and is of peculiar service in enabling us to keep out of other people's power. Demosthenes, in one of his strongest denunciations against Eschines, strikingly remarks that 'a man who gives his

opinion before the event, makes himself responsible to fortune, to those that have followed his advice, and to every person that chooses to hold him accountable.' If we are in anywise alive to such responsibility, we are chary in needlessly announcing our purposes to other people beforehand. Secretiveness in the extreme, is in fact the excessive use of an instrument directed against that foreign intervention which so often frustrates our ends. It is an instrument serviceable to the weak as well as to the strong, and helps to make up for the want of other force, offensive or defensive.

Whichever way we view the secretive propensity, we shall find it explicable by a reference to other well recognised principles of character. When the feelings are naturally strong, they vent themselves strongly, and are difficult to conceal; and in particular, when the sociable tendencies are highly developed, they show themselves in an open and confiding temper. The counter-forces inspiring reserve are chiefly of the prudential kind, and relate to the gaining of our chief objects of pursuit and avoiding the evils that we most dread. Being determined on some end, and unable to compass it by an open policy, there is a temptation to underhand methods, but the assiduous employment of such methods is no proof of an instinct of concealment. Of course, it is easier for cold natures to fall into the close and reserved policy, and we see that it prevails most in this class of minds. On no account, therefore, are we disposed to agree with phrenologists in pronouncing secretiveness an ultimate faculty. There is not a single fact adduced by them that does not admit of being otherwise explained.

8. Acquisitiveness.-The primitive faculty manifested by this