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the cause of bad sport during the regular season. If foxes are unmercifully killed down during the cub-hunting season, the number kept at the end of the regular season is proportionately lessened; hence the seasoned foxes for the following season are few, and so bad sport is a certain consequence. The excuse of the necessity of blood for the hounds is often put forward, but there is a good deal of nonsense in this plea. It is by no means certain that blood makes hounds hunt better. Deerhounds for example, which as a rule are never blooded, hunt just as well as foxhounds, and the destruction of cubs, which is partly a sacrifice to this theory, is a sure blow to the sport of the season. Murdering foxes,' says the writer whom we have just quoted, is a most absurd

prodigality; ' much more so is it in these days than in those of Mr. Meynell. There is also this to be said against the killing of many cubs: it causes the number of them which must be reared to be larger, because those which are sacrificed in September and October would go far to supply half the sport of the proper hunting season. We will give an example of this absurd prodigality. Imagine a cub rattled about a big wood for some time, and then followed through another large wood to one where he is again hunted for half an hour or more. He then takes refuge in a little outlying spinny in a deep bottom, where he is surrounded on all sides by the field, at last he makes a desperate bolt for the big wood, but the hundred yards between the two are more than he can cover, and he is pulled down just as he reaches the fringe of underwood. The scent had been bad for a long time, the hounds might over and over again have legitimately been taken home. Here was a cub well hunted which later on in the season would certainly have shown good sport; but instead of being spared he is killed in a manner which by no possibility could give sport. Then, when later in the regular season these woods are drawn blank, and men grumble about the scarcity of foxes, it may occur to some that a little less prodigality of this kind in the cub-hunting season might be the means of affording better sport when the majority of the hunt are present. • Neither is the farmer usually pleased with overmuch cubhunting: it breaks his fences while his cattle are in the fields, it comes upon him unexpectedly, and he has a feeling that more than a legitimate use is made of his land.

That cub-hunting is a pleasant pastime on a bright October morning may at once be admitted. The woods are then in their brightest livery, more beautiful in their varied colours

than in the warm days of summer. The mellow fruitfulness of a genial autumn is never more conspicuously noticeable than among the large woods and covers which are the most suitable for cub-hunting. The gleaming lights which are reflected by the rides of burnished beech, the picturesque vistas, and secluded dells kneedeep in the dying bracken, are sufficient to tempt the horseman forth at early dawn. But when we rid ourselves of the spirit of enthusiasm which haply may be created by a ride after hounds among such pleasant scenes, and regard the matter somewhat more critically, it must be confessed that the modern system of cubhunting is not altogether advantageous to fox-hunting in the customary months and in the open country.

Again, it goes without saying that every argument which may legitimately be used against undue cub-hunting is of equal, if not of greater weight against late spring hunting. The destruction of a vixen in April is a distinct blow to sport in the following season. The farmer with his ewes and his lambs, his growing corn and his springing grasses, naturally takes umbrage at horsemen galloping over his land. So that there can be no means more likely to promote the stability and popularity of fox-hunting than a determination among masters of hounds and regular subscribers on the one hand only to allow cub-hunting in great moderation, and on the other to cease hunting at the end of March, or earlier if the season be a forward one.

The excellent work in the Badminton Library on Hunting, from which we have from time to time quoted, suggests other points for reflection and remark than those to which we have alluded in this review. It would be interesting, did space permit, not only from a sporting but from a purely literary point of view, to attempt a survey of the steadily growing literature of the chase, which in the century since the first edition of Beckford's Thoughts on Hunting, which appeared in 1781, has been increased not only by the well-known works of Nimrod and the Druid, but by others-and not a few of them of fiction-which deal with every portion of this subject. It is a merit of the book before us that it not unsuccessfully summarises, so far as it is possible, and draws attention to, the efforts of those writers who have gone before, and is thus to some extent a landmark in the literature of the chase--a branch of our literature full of faults of expression and form, but unique in itself, and very noticeable for its reflection of some national characteristics and ideas. Thus the thoughtful sportsman will, from the


information contained in this book on hunting, and from that which it puts him on the track of obtaining, combined with his own observation and experience, be able to consider all the aspects of this great national pastime. That it is in no sense decaying, but that it is undergoing changes, as it has done before, and as is inevitable, is certain; of its firm root in English society there can be no doubt. Of its great value every unprejudiced man who has made himself a master of the subject in all its bearings must be aware, whether it be regarded as a pastime which brings various classes of men into touch with one another, or which helps to preserve the physical and nervous vigour of our generation.

ART. V.-1. The Ministry of Fine Art to the Happiness of Life.

Essays on various Arts. By T. GAMBIER PARRY. 8vo.

London : 1886. 2. Handbook of Painting. The Italian Schools, based on the

. Handbook of Kugler ; originally edited by Sir Charles Eastlake, P.R.A. Fifth Edition, thoroughly revised and in part re-written by AUSTEN HENRY LAYARD, G.C.B. Two vols. London : 1887. The essays which have been collected in a volume bearing

the title of. The Ministry of Fine Art' are a worthy contribution to the literature of art. The author, Mr. Gambier Parry, has been known for many years as a distinguished amateur. Towards the close of a long and useful life he has done what everyone would wish to do who has had great opportunities of making himself acquainted with the best specimens of ancient and modern art, and who has himself carried out into practice the principles which he has observed and made his own. One of the chief of these is the connexion of the various branches of art and their relation to architecture. There is no subject handled in the nine essays of which Mr. Gambier Parry is not entitled to speak with authority. However we may feel disposed to criticise the style of some of the essays, as wanting that care and polish which a finished work demands, it should be borne in mind that they are introduced to the reading public as sketches; and the modesty of the dedication should to a great extent disarm criticism. Perhaps the most valuable essays are those which treat of mosaic as used in church decoration, and of coloured glass, and the conditions under which the best examples of these have been produced. There is an especial interest in the last essay on Gloucester Cathedral, which Mr. Gambier Parry describes with the enthusiasm of an antiquary and the loving familiarity of a near neighbour.

The purpose of art is stated in the First Essay as the expression of the sense of beauty. This sense is not entirely a gift of Nature, but is in great measure) a creature of education. Much disappointment may be saved by the knowledge of a few principles which are common to all the branches of art; for instance, the value of repose, which Mr. Gambier Parry illustrates by one of Cuyp's quiet landscapes. The want of this in architecture may be seen in some of our club-houses, where there is no rest for the eye. Another principle is, the necessity of the artist combining intellectual with moral qualities. He should aim not only at the representation of beauty, but at making others recognise it; and his duty is so to present Nature to the eyes of men as to make them love that Nature more. As regards his own qualifications, a man must have intellect, else his art will be incomprehensible: and he must have a pure and noble nature, else his art will be sensual, and only fit to be burnt.

These are some of the principles which we find stated in the First Essay, and illustrated by reference to some of the noblest works in sculpture and painting. The application of these to architecture is continually suggested; and music is invoked to bring some points home to the subtler feelings. The value of constant study from the fountain-head of Nature is upheld, and the claims of genius are acknowledged in a generous spirit of appreciation.

The Second Essay treats of the Ministry of Fine Art to Common Life. It starts with the modest assertion that fine art ministers to human happiness, but does not make it. It requires a sympathetic nature in order that it may give pleasure. But without the rest and refreshment of art a portion of our nature is unsatisfied. It is a vulgar assumption that the enjoyment of art must be contined to the few. The love of art was once more diffused. It nourished in many ways the poetry of common life. Gradually the national love for beautiful surroundings disappeared.

· The old narrow shed, with all its interest of home endearment, with its pleasant outline of overhanging roofs and gables, quaint domes, turrets, and spires of shining shingle, carved woodwork and painted panelling, and all the cheery sense of friendship, warmth, and comfort that they gave ; the deep chimney corner, the pleasant open porch, with their associations of rest, of refreshment, of warm-hearted

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hospitality, and all else that could nourish in our people the last remaining and least sense of the poetry of common lite, gave way before the desolating hand of social and political change.' This is a good sample of Mr. Gambier Parry's style. A much longer quotation might have been made, but this is enough to show that he, like Mr. Ruskin, desires to see fine art ministering to the enjoyment of life, not only among the wealthy and highly educated, but among the poor.

Some good remarks will be found on the comparative effect of art in town and country life; and these are illustrated by the example of two cottages, one of which, in the course of a year or two, completely changed its aspect from gloom and dirt to brightness and cheerfulness, showing that art has a refining and cheering influence on individual life, and how we may hope to introduce with patience the materials of ' a higher and happier life.'

The aim of this excellent essay may be gathered from its concluding sentences :

The perception of beauty is one of the most precious endowments with which God has blessed humanity. The wise and benevolent do well to foster it in their fellow-men; and we do well to bless God for the inestimable gift, so far as we possess it ourselves, accepting the ministry of art as the surest means for its cultivation to enlighten and refresh the world, and accepting, in relation to it, the fundamental testimony of Nature, that God has spread man's path with beauty because He has consigned his life to work.'

The Third Essay treats of the Ministry of Fine Art to Spiritual Life. Nature, it is said, needs an interpreter to translate effects in the outward world into thoughts and feelings which can awaken the spirit of man. The early sculptor was haunted by an idea, and had no rest till he embodied it in marble. This is especially the case with the religious ideal. Poetry peopled the material universe with spiritual beings. It is the mission of Christian art to teach the world, through the element of beauty, the love of God to His creatures. This is what no analytical process can do. The artist is not a logician. His sense of beauty is intuitive, and he can but take the forms of beauty which surround him to interpret his thought.

The question Whence comes our power to respond to art's poetry?' is well answered, and there follows an eloquent passage, in which the effect of a sunset is explained upon a theory like the Platonic aváțvnois. Its fascination • is not that of novelty, but of reminiscence.' The same train of thought is pursued further, and finally we are told

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