OTTER HUNTING.

If the sport of hunting be cruel, as some compassionate persons declare, it can hardly be objected to in the case of the otter, who is a tyrant and depredator so unsparing and rapacious, that mercy to him would be destruction, on a large scale, to other creatures, on whom he preys from day to day.

Both ingenuity and experience are necessary to pursue the otter with success. Man and dog must have education appropriate to the undertaking. The latter requires something like an apprenticeship of four or five seasons, before he is equal to the duties of his calling; and after all, he greatly requires the aid of human skill. A writer who well understands the subject, says: "No pack of otter-hounds, however perfect in their work, if unas. sisted, and left entirely to themselves, shall kill an old otter found on a fair, deep stream. In this sport, especially, man's hand and eye are indispensable to the hound. Thus, I infer, that no hounds would naturally take to drawing for an otter as they would for other game; that an otter in his element (if I may be allowed to call it so) is more than a match for hounds, and that, consequently, to them the sport is an artificial one. Notwithstand ing, the deer excepted, no animal leaves a sweeter scent to hounds than the otter.'

The otter is a formidable enemy to frogs. Multitudes of them in every season become his victims. He seeks them in small streams, and with immense diligence, especially in the hot season; and will often cross from stream to stream in the chase. The hounds are sometimes repeatedly at fault, in consequence; but though the scent is lost for a moment, they soon recover it, with infinite delight. A better idea of the course taken by sportsmen when following the otter, cannot be given than that furnished by the Sporting Review. Having described the hopes and fears, the expectations and disappointments, of the opening day, the scene which ensued is thus painted:

"Two or three miles of the river had been traversed in this manner, when 'Baronet' came to a mark in a hover formed by an old oak tree. That sounds solid,' was the general observation, as the hound's peculiar earnestness carried conviction to all, that the game was at hand. Solid and sure,' was Ned Fullbert's reply, as he caught a terrier by the tail, and quietly dropped him through the hollow of the tree. Now, look below, gentlemen; Fox is aboard him; and if he don't bolt in a se cond or two, I'm deceived; so look below, for he'll slip by you like a conger.' War to the knife was at once heard at the roots of the tree, and a chain of small bubbles

rising to the surface, told all that the otter had bolted. The hounds now settled upon him down stream, and for an hour or more worked him incessantly. His life a'nt worth a farden,' says Ned, 'tis too hot to hold him.' The otter now landed, unseen by any one, while the hounds flashed away down the stream on the scent of the water for several hundred yards. Here they threw up for a time; but, at the sound of the horn, again heading back, they hit off his line with an avidity that seemed to say his very minutes were numbered. However, it was not so, for by the aid of a small copse through which he ran, he managed to reach the hover from which he was first bolted. Great was Ned's grief at this occurrence, for he knew the punishment that awaited his 'fire-side friends,' as he always called the terriers, and he predicted the very bones of their head would be cracked ere the otter could be made to quit his strong holt a second time. Halloo-in-loo,' said he, as a couple of them got in. 'I'll warrant me they'll do their duty.' Every hound pricked his ear, and every man seemed a statue of attention; it was a strange contrast to the scurry and excitement that had just prevailed. A rattling, rumbling noise was quickly heard, and the chain of bubbles again shot up, glistening like so many pearls, and announcing at once the evacuation of the fortress. otter was now fairly beaten, he vented more frequently, and was 'gazed' without intermission. Pavidum capul extulit undis,' old Beeswing grabs at him, then Rattler, then all, 'stant littore puppes.' 'Well done, good hounds, well done.' 'Worry, worry, worry; you can't tear him, eat him,' lads whowhoop.' Ned took the otter by the tail in his left hand, and with the whip in his right he kept off the hounds that were baying in a circle around him, while he screeched at the top of his voice Whowhoop.'"

The

"It is well, young man, that these interrogatories should be put, because you have done me some injury. You have supposed I was conniving to disgrace my child, by permitting the attentions of the squire, the heir of many broad acres. Know," continued Cumlin, walking erect, and darting a haughty look at James, "that the daughter of Edgar Cumlin would never feel honoured by a union with the house of Barnard, and this hand would destroy the life he gave, rather than dishonour should attaint his name.' 99

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Sir, you do me injustice." "Peace!" interrupted the old man, fiercely, with strong emotion, which shook his powerful frame. "In other climes, my name was associated with the highest in the land of my birth. If that name has been changed, the causes which have led to an assumed cognomen have justified me, in my own heart, in that course I have thought proper to pursue. My daughter is the scion of a race of heroes, and she shall never wed any, excepting on two conditions."

"Name them," cried Waldron, impetuously.

"The first, she must love; secondly, the man she thus honours must partake and embrace her father's hatred and scorn of arbitrary government, and oppose, while his life continues, infamous and pernicious laws."

"Great God! you do not mean that I

ing, with a bitter laugh. "Call you those laws which tax a people, in order that wars may be carried on, to deluge fair fields and smiling plains with blood and carnage, fair laws? Call you those that force a man from his home, from the wife of his bosom, from the children of his affection, and the friends of his early days, fair laws? Call you those which impress men on board yonder detestable navy from every blessing that life can afford, to fight in a cause most horrible, killing men in cold blood-aye, men they have never seen before, not one of whom has ever injured them-fair laws? Call you those that thus force civilised beings into terrible conflicts without one thought or feeling on the justice, merits or demerits, of a quarrel between two men, the chiefs of nations? Why, these 'equal laws' which you evoke will tear you from the ties you have men. tioned, and plunge you in misery."

It is impossible to describe the extraor dinary fire and energy with which Mr. Cumlin delivered his denunciations against impressment and war. Nor can we depict the effect this language had on the young man to whom it was addressed. Waldron was confused; he answered not. Cumlin, after a slight pause, continued his remarks;

"You ask me, young man, not to demand a 'sacrifice' which would destroy my daughter's peace. What, are you disposed to sacrifice for her love nothing? And yet you expect everything. Where then are those overpowering sensations which men feel when they love? Love is indigenous to the climate of the sweet south, and a constituent part in the composition of the hearts of its children. Alas! you men of the north talk, without feeling."

"I love your daughter, sir, with a pure and honourable passion."

"Had you dared," hissed the voice of Cumlin in Waldron's ear, "to breathe any other feeling, your life would long since have paid the forfeit."

"Let me implore you, listen to me, if but for a moment'

"Not an instant, sir; you see my daughter no more as a suitor, excepting the conditions named are complied with."

"But if I consent to these conditions, shall I be compelled to become one of your band immediately ?"

"Instantly," answered the smuggler, in a decisive tone. "You think the terms hard, and yet I have waived all consideration of wealth. All I demand is that you shall join our band, and take our oaths; then if my daughter loves you, her hand shall be freely accorded thee, with the dower of a princess. I have now done. 1 give you until twelve to-morrow night to decide; and when you have determined,

meet me at the Chequers before midnight; you will find me in the Hall of Nations." Cumlin then stalked forward, and was quickly by his daughter's side.

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Daughter," said Cumlin, addressing Margaret," Mr. Waldron will not sup with us this evening; but he will, in all proba bility, step in and take a parting glass. Of course," he continued, turning to Captain Sarson, "you will not permit me to invite you to my humble home."

"For myself, I thank you, sir," return ed the sailor; "but I cannot enter your dwelling; my duty prevents me; I may be compromised for being at present in company with a man so much suspected. But on land we may meet as men-we both know how to act, should ill fate bring us together under other circumstances."

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Oh, oh!" cried Cumlin, "I accept your apology, sir, and honour your fidelity to your sovereign. But with regard to our meeting on the deep, why Edgar Cumlin will never show his back; and if the Lapwings have not yet experienced sufficient defeat, why the time may arrive when they may have a surfeit."

The colour mounted to the face of the young officer, and he was on the point of uttering an angry reply, when Cumlin add ed with blandness," Why, captain, you will not be angry with a blunt old seaman. You think you are doing your duty. I suppose I am performing mine. I think you are wrong-you suppose me in error. Give me your good opinion until you are compelled to condemn my motives and actions."

along the sand cliffs, commanding a fine view of the opposite coast of the Gaul.

Why did this fair flower leave her home so early?

The events of the preceding evening had opened another and an enigmatical page in her existence. She could not sleep, and she rose from her couch, dressed herself, threw an Indian shawl across her shoulders, placed her bonnet and veil on her ample brows, and with a light step passed on to the verge of that beautiful plain, which leads the pedestrian to the interesting village of Sandgate.

And what can be of deeper interest to the lover of his species, than in perceiving a young and guileless being in the first blush of existence, endeavouring to disguise from herself impressions which render the tenderest sensations delicious-the thrilling and quickening of the pulsation, indicating a first affection it is said can never be felt but once in a life-the solicitude to enjoy her thoughts-to luxuriate on her reflections engendered by one hu man creature-there is certainly nothing so ethereal, so extatic, so dear.

The road which this fair young creature pursued verged to the extremity of the beautiful table land, overlooking the dark blue waters of the Channel.

Stiles and "kissing" gates separated the meadows from each other, affording places for rest and contemplation. The marine views extending to the east, bounded by the lowlands of Flanders; to the south, the undulating cliffs of Calais and Boulogne were perceived; and the far west of limitless water affords to the lovers of the sublime and beautiful never failing sources of pleasure.

From this table land the town of Folkstone is perceived, with its choked harbour and pier.

The fresh morning sea breezes fanned the faultless features of Margaret, and transferred a lovelier hue to her clear complexion. There was deep thought in her speaking eyes, as she passed through the verdant pastures. That fair creature was analysing her sensations-feelings new and strange to one who supposed she loved Waldron, so strongly and so truly.

If she had loved Waldron, whence the cause of her present impressions?

Margaret Cumlin supposed, until she met Poynder, that she loved Waldron with sincerity, and with her father's consent would have stood before the altar to pledge her vows to him. From the moment she heard the voice, and listened to the eloquent language of the young artist, she felt that more was required than a fine person, and amiable manners, joined with manly courage, to constitute the elements of that burning passion which she now ex

perienced for the first time. Before she saw Edmund, she imagined James to have been her "first love," and certainly he had succeeded in rousing new and pleasing emotions in her heart, but the passion that now glowed in her virgin breast, thrilled her whole soul, and induced sensations of restlessness, fear, and incipient hope. She had looked forward to the time when she would have been Waldron's bride, with anticipations untinctured by fear or hope; but in one moment the electrical, subtile, fluid mind, had transformed her whole nature, and she confessed on the margin of those waters, that she could never, never be the wife of Waldron, These sensations were so entirely new to her that she could scarcely understand them; she was convinced her affection for James was the result of mere physical admiration and vanity, in supposing herself the idol of the most elegant and handsome man she had ever seen. But Waldron was utterly deficient in conversational powers-he had no poetry in his soul, he despised reading and the unfading pleasures it affords-he condemned science as abstruse and uninteresting, and gazed on the magnificent works of art as "very good-looking things." In animated nature he loved but little excepting horses and dogs-they were the principal companions and sharers in his

amusements.

But Poynder was the very antipodes of all this. Passionately devoted to literature, the arts and sciences, believing poetry to be the very essence of the soul, and calculated to lead human creatures from vice and folly to virtue and excellence, he cultivated his fine taste and genius, in order by his example to induce in others a love for the useful, the ornamental, and the elevating. Possessing great natural eloquence, he enforced with energy what he had gleaned from study and an intercourse with mankind. And although nature had denied him personal beauty, and given him homely features and a stature below that generally allotted to man, yet, when his features were animated by enthusiasm in defence of his favourite theories, he appeared then almost sublime. His dark eyes beamed with the fire of in tellect; and his eloquence, like the rushing of the mountain cataract, bore down every petty obstacle.

The education Margaret received from her mother, a lovely, amiable Italian, had been almost useless in her seclusion from intercourse with the erudite and accomplished; and it is no wonder then that the language and fervour of Poynder struck chords that never vibrated before, and brought into life and activity the slumber. ing education received in her youth.

Thoughts like these passed through the

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brain of that young gazelle, as she slowly threaded the windings on the edge of the cliffs of Folkstone. "Ah!" she muttered, "I have only admired mere personal beauty; I now appreciate and-" She hesi tated, blushing deeply; then with the im petuosity characteristic of her race added, Why, why should I fear to breathe it to myself that I love mind, intellect, genius? There is no disgrace or shame in this. No human being is in possession of my secret. The veil is rent in twain only to myself, My soul is aroused, and I am no longer a dreamer. No, no, Waldron, our paths are now widely separated, I seem as if awakened from a long trance, and now for the first time live-exist with hope. But my father-" she shuddered at the mention of his name, and continued walking and musing. After a pause, she muttered: "But he loves me ardently-he has no feeling of tenderness for any living. He regarded Poynder with that attention which he has not bestowed on any for years. But what could that conversation mean between them when returning from the Cherry Gardens yesterday? It was long and animated; I fear me, there is some dark page about to be turned in my history."

The sun had now reached high in the fields of azure; bright fleecy clouds, piled like the strata of a mountain pass, rose and were tinted with the bright and glorious refulgence of its rays. The light air had given place to a fresh breeze from the south-west. Innumerable vessels of all sizes appeared skimming the sea like wild fowl on the wing. Now and then might be perceived the rising of tall spars of a merchantman careering up the Channel to the Thames. Afar in the horizon the hull of a flag ship was seen, with her tender, cruizing boldly in the teeth of the Gaul in these narrow seas, breathing like a huge monster, as she ploughed the waves, with all her bunting set, before the small cap of wind.

The beautiful bay of Hythe, with the natural curved breakwater at whose extremity stands Lydd lighthouse, now lay béneath the feet of Margaret. She had arrived at the verge of the plain of Sandgate. From this bold promontory the scene is enchanting; at the bottom of a steep hill lays the beautiful marine village of Sandgate, with its ancient castle, villas, and bathing establishments, its pretty street, constructed of brick and boards, and its fine strand of shingle. About three miles westward, the town of Hythe reposes in silent loveliness at the foot of the same ridge of hills, with its church elevated amongst gardens and pastures.

When arriving at this headland, Margaret felt fatigued, and seated herself down to enjoy the charms of nature and her own