Devon

From Macmillan's Magazine. ON EXMOOR.

A SKETCH.

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seen that a writer who supplies these persons with a change of reading which they like, is sure of both fame and fortune. In Hannah More's days there were hardly any of these books to be had (the taste of A FINE travelling-day! So it is; a the age was not elevated enough to find perfect day; rather cloudy this with a pleasure in the grand old sermons of cool light air blowing softly from the west, Jeremy Taylor and the men of his time), over Exmoor and all the wide stretch of and it must be owned, besides, that every country beyond. A different day to the one, high and low, did want a great deal one last week, on which I first made of teaching, and very rudimentary teach- acquaintance with Somerset and North ing too, as is proved by Sir Joshua's comthen the coach crept slowly plaint that nearly all the visitors who and with difficulty up the long steep came to his studio to see his "Infant ascent of Porlock Hill a rise of seven Samuel" had to ask him who Samuel hundred feet, against the collar every foot was. And-to give an idea of the depth of the way, in the teeth of a furious of ignorance existing among the lower classes- when Hannah More, with noble disregard of personal comfort, went miles and miles on Sundays, to teach the semisavages in the villages near Cheddar, the parents resisted her endeavors to secure the children's attendance at school, because they were sure that she wished to steal them away to sell them as slaves.

gale. Wild gusts of rain and hail swept by, hurried past by the driving wind, cutting us like whips, almost without wetting our ulsters. Then, the vast extent of moorland was blotted out completely in places by banks of low hanging cloud, and everywhere it showed blurred, and misty, and desolate. No living creature would willingly affront such weather, for it was cold as December, and the only sign of life except our storm-driven selves was a tossing speck on the Bristol Channel which represented the daily steamer vainly trying to force and plough and fight her way along through the chopping waves to our right. For a moment, however, the cloud lifted at sunset, to show a crimson glare in the wide west, with broad rain-rays streaming down to the murky horizon. It is well to remember that wild afternoon, only three days ago, on this soft and smiling summer morning, and we do remember it; but as a sailor remembers the outside storm when he has dropped anchor in a sheltered baywith an added sense of enjoyment in the remembrance.

She persevered, however, and in time did an immense amount of good in benighted regions which had not known the care of a clergyman for nearly a century. This was only one amongst many of her patient and unselfish efforts to help others, and we are glad to chronicle it, and especially anxious, besides, to declare that we feel a sincere reverence for Hannah More, and believe her to have been a very carnest, good woman, though we cannot but wonder at the success which she obtained as a writer during the earlier part of her life, when, if ever, she was judged as a writer merely. One person seems to have shared our opinion even in those days; for when poor Mrs. More set her dress on fire, and was only saved by the courage of a friend, the announcement of The desolate moorland road is gay tothis fact and that the dress she wore at day with vehicles of all sorts and sizes, the time was made of a stuff called last-foot and horsemen cut the sky-line sharping, which did not burn readily, provoked the following epigram from "some heartless pretender to wit:

ly, converging from different points, for all the world is out and on its way to Coultsham Ball, sixteen miles away, to "assist" at the first meet of the staghounds. To nearly all the way must needs be long, for though the actual distance is not great to that central spot, still the roads wind, and dip, and curve round the steep hillsides in a fashion which doubles and trebles the mileage. Yet no other way is practicable except to the few who know the short cuts and safe crossing-places of bog and streamlet. We are soon in Somerset, and skirting the edge of Exmoor. Close at hand, it is true moor apparently, and yet the

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actual moor itself lies away, they say, | New Zealand black-faced merino, though yonder to the north-east, and is lost in their wool is not so fine and good. the soft rolling distance. Patches of would not suppose that they had enough vivid green and pale yellow, well fenced sunshine to quarrel with it, so it looked and farmed, lie peacefully in the middle absurd to see how they struggled with distance between us and "the moor," each other for every inch of shade. Unand here and there the closely folded der every heather bush large enough to hills are cleft by deep and densely wooded cast a shadow, in every scraped-out combes. Yonder is Badgeworthy (pro- gutter or roadside bank, a sheep was nounced, to my deep amaze, "Badgerry") comfortably curled up, much too lazy Valley, and out of it stretches the Doone even to mind the passing horseman, or Valley, fastness of the robber Doones, to take any notice, beyond a placid stare, the story of whose fair captive, Lorna, of the noisiest vehicle, and we could not as told by Mr. Blackmore, has delighted help being noisy sometimes, for the drag us all for many a day. Still nearer to the was in constant requisition, and creaked east rises Dunkerry Beacon, the highest and squealed horribly as we slid down hill in all this hilly region, yonder are the hill. Quantock Hills, and now we are passing over Hawkcombe Head, a bold bit of moorland country, where the great meet of last year was held. It was on just such a fine and breezy day, only a little later in the autumn, and ten thousand people came out to see the Prince of Wales, who was to hunt his first Exmoor stag. The wonderful part of the story is that a capital stag was found, that the prince and his formidable following had a capital run, and killed in Badgeworthy Water, after an exciting chase which led them ten miles round.

To-day every one seems to be bound for a picnic or a racecourse, for out of everything on wheels the corner of a hamper protrudes. Lynmouth and Lynton, Porlock and Brendon, send forth hundreds of visitors this fine morning, and the tourist element already shows strongly. Here and there an unmistakable farmhouse party pass each other, and exchange greetings in what sounds to strangers uncommonly like a foreign tongue. But their speech is the sole foreign thing about them, for those rosy cheeks and broad shoulders can only belong to the true John Bull, and nowhere are his sons more stalwart or his daughters more blooming than in this bracing moorland region. The sheep who had hidden themselves so carefully away on that wild Saturday afternoon are numerous to-day, and I regard them with the affectionate interest of a ci-devant squat'ter. They are compact little beasties, broad in the back and short in the legs, placid of demeanor and in capital condition. I am told they are nearly all horned hereabouts, and I need no information as to their excellence when regarded as mutton. But in spite of their wild condition and education, they are infinitely more civilized than our hardy

The

Thus we go on and on, up and down, over excellent roads, it is true, but of a steepness which is simply appalling, and I wonder more and more how any hunting, except in balloons, can be possible in such a country. A dapper huntsman from the shires is on the box seat of our carriage, and from time to time I hear him murmur, "I don't believe it." He never says anything else, so his utterances have all the force of an oracle. To the heart of a painter no scene could be dearer, and the alternations of sunshine and lingering fog banks create enchanting effects of light and shade. moor, too, is in its most brilliant summer glory of purple heather and golden gorse, with waving cotton-grass between; the shady banks of the road, wherever it has a bank, are gay with tufts of pale yellow snapdragon or plumes of foxglove and waving branchlets of bracken. At every patch of whortleberries we are pretty sure to flush a covey of round-eyed children playing truant. I for one will not blame them this beauteous morning, and the wildest imagination could not conceive the arm of the School Board stretching so far.

Presently the open moorland road gives place to a more trodden track between stone walls or hedges, and a few faint signs of human occupation occasionally appear; the waggonettes, and gigs, and carts are also more numerous, and seem to be coming from opposite directions. Hitherto we have all followed each other

at intervals, it is true, yet still as if in a procession; but now the streams of travellers, though converging to one point, cross each other. Here and there a red coat brightens the groups, and the horsemen grow more numerous. So do the ardent sportsmen on foot, and most of them escort a damsel or two in her

- have been in those dense and beautiful

smartest summer frock and gayest hat. | "tufters " six or eight couple of them To my London eyes every one looks in such glowing health that I long to pinch and kiss the apple-cheeks of some of the pretty staring children. Many of the little boys are on pony back, and ride a great deal more fearlessly than the 'grown-ups," who have farther to fall. Here, at last, is the farmhouse where the hounds are kennelled, a low, substantial stone building, opening into a shady lane, through which one can hardly get along for the crowd; and here, with a sharp turn through a gate, is Coultsham Ball itself, a large open field on the side of a hill.

The first thing is to get the horses out and send them away to rest and feed in the shade yonder, for, big and strong as they are, sixteen miles of such a road has told on them a little, and one hopes their bait will be a long one. Everybody else is looking for their acquaintances, but I have none, and am free to gaze and gaze at the view before me. Surely the master of the hounds must be an artist to choose such a spot for his first meet this year! The hunting part of this programme seems more impossible than ever, and I begin to agree with our midland-county sportsman. He is still in his dust-coat, standing staring blankly at his horse, of which animal the bone is certainly more conspicuous than the breeding. I observe that his cigar has gone out, and he is shaking his head dubiously. But evidently some of the motley throng-and they are very motley-mean business; for not only are there led horses being walked about, but those who have ridden to covert are resting themselves and easing their steeds by a few minutes on foot. Here and there a smart young farmer is hastily unharnessing the stout pony which has drawn himself and his family to the meet, and preparing to saddle it and "pursue with the best. I begin dreamily to speculate how the wife and babies who are now so busy with the meat pies and ginger beer will get home in the event of the run taking the head of the family and the pony twenty miles off; but there is no time to go into this subject, for here comes the whip, looking rather disgusted at the unbusinesslike aspect of the field. Everybody seems to have but one idea, which is "luncheon," and certainly the moorland air creates a good excuse for that idea.

Still the bright morning is wearing on; there is always the risk of a sea-fog rolling up and blotting out everything. The

Horner woods opposite, for an hour or more with the huntsman, and yet no stag has shown an inclination to break covert. How should he, poor beast, when not only is there this vast gay assemblage on the side of the hill before him, but knots and groups of people, on foot and horseback, are dotted about the neighboring hills? All night the "harborer" has been, what a middy from Dartmouth calls cruising," about these woods in order to ascertain the exact whereabouts of a "warrantable deer; but at this time of year it is difficult to get the stags to break covert, for they are fat and lazy, and so numerous that I hear many complaints of the damage they do to young plantations and crops.

It is a bright and picturesque scene; but my eyes stray from the gay groups immediately around, to the wonderful beauty of hill and combe, of wood and water, of sky and sea, stretched out before me. Over all an English summer sky is bent, than which, I maintain, there is nothing more beautiful to be seen, even in tropic lands. The blue, where it is blue, is so deep yet tender in color, and the sailing gray clouds, light as a film where they lie low, are only a grateful relief to the eye, and cast enchanting shadows over the purple moorland or the yellowing corn-fields. Porlock Bay shimmers silvery over yonder, dotted with the sails of the fishing-boats, and the Welsh coast opposite looks but a dozen miles away.

We are all impatient to see a stag, though the old hands expect nothing less than a run on this first day. "It is only a big picnic," they say disdainfully, and I confess it looks like it. By-and-by the hounds pass through our midst, all anxious as we are for a run. They are but a young pack, for a couple of years ago hydrophobia broke out in the kennels, and the old trained hounds had to be destroyed, one after the other. These are fine animals, but young; and as they are really large foxhounds, not the deerhound of a picture or a story, they need careful training. The veteran sportsman of North Devon is close on their heels, and every one turns to try and get a cheery smile or nod from "one of the good old sort," as I hear the people about me saying. A happy chance brings a kind word or two my way, and I at once fall hopelessly in love with the "Jack Russell" whom every one loves. I stoutly refuse to believe in

between humor and wit, the latter having no constant object in view, but only the anomalous one of epigrammatically exposing real or fanciful incongruities. This distinction does not, of course, stand in the way of humor's being witty upon occasion.

educated people, even to those who may never have happened to read his books. Some of it has entered into the language, and in general its validity has reached that stage where it is as secure from question, in its own degree, as that of Cervantes or of Fielding. Yet at best it is little more than an easy and genial sort In "Knickerbocker's New York," Irvof playfulness, slyly smiling at things ing hit upon a very happy conception, and which pompous conventionality delighted one which was especially suited to his to honor. The author himself, while genius. It was his first work; but much writing in 1809, probably had no concep- as he wrote after that, it may be doubted tion that his "Knickerbocker" would be whether he ever again accomplished quite remembered and read in 1880. He was so fortunate and long sustained a flight. moved to run a tilt at some pretentious The fun consists technically in burleshumbugs of the period, and he was aware quing the dignity and doings of the worthy that many affairs in themselves insignifi- personages who settled and developed the cant were by stupidity magnified into island of Manhattan, the site of what importance. He thought it would be afterwards became the city of New York; wholesome sport to prick a few bubbles but when the author was once warmed to and slit a few windbags, to show irrever- his work, he was continually adventuring ence where reverence was not due, and into new regions of frolic and fancy, beto startle the prejudices of a self-compla- ing comfortably supported on his way by cent little social world. But while doing the pompous historical language and style all this voluntarily, he was involuntarily in which his composition was couched, doing a great deal more. For although and which formed the most artistic relief we have long since ceased to remember possible for the quaint absurdity of the anything about the things and the people matter. Take, for example, the account which Diedrich Knickerbocker held up of the diplomatic mission of Antony the to ridicule seventy years ago, yet these trumpeter to the fortress of Rensellaerwere typical of other people and things stein. It would appear that Govert Lockwhich exist to-day, and are no less ridicu- erman, commander of the Manhattan lous now than they were before; and as Company's yacht the "Half-Moon," was we read, we silently apply the writer's one day tiding down the Hudson, quietly arch criticisms to matters within our own smoking his pipe under the shadow of experience. All humor, in fact (in the the proud flag of Orange, when, coming sense in which we are now considering abreast of Bearn Island, he was perempit), mainly depends upon a persistent torily ordered by one Nicholas Koorn, a tendency in the human race towards retainer of the Rensellaers, to lower his emptiness, purblindness, and silliness, flag. This Lockerman stolidly refused to qualities not peculiar to any special class do, and held to his refusal, in spite of sunof persons, but common, at certain times dry guns fired at his vessel and his flag and in certain relations, to all. The hu- from the fortress, he maintaining a stubmor consists in subjecting the fantasies born silence, though his smothered rage and figments of our vanity and dulness to might be perceived by the short, vehethe sane light of simple good sense; and ment puffs of smoke from his pipe, by the quality of the humor is determined by which he might be tracked for miles, as the manner in which this is done. In he slowly floated out of shot and out of Irving's case, it is a gentle and amiable sight of Bearn Island; and he never gave process; we hear a subdued chuckle, and vent to his passion until he got among the swollen balloon of our self-importance the highlands, when he let fly a volley of imperceptibly collapses. Swift, on the Dutch oaths, which are said to linger to other hand, employed a far more stringent this very day among the echoes of the and violent method, which it has become Dunderberg, and to give particular effect the custom to distinguish under the name to the thunderstorms in that region. of "satire;" it is humor in a bad humor, | Upon this insult being reported to Wilbut the essential principle is the same. liam the Testy, governor of Nieuw Between these two extreme exponents the Amsterdam, the latter despatched to whole world of humorous treatment lies. Rensellaerstein the diplomatic mission Most humor has the same general object, above alluded to. Antony the trumpeter the abatement of folly; and it is here sounded a parley, and when Nicholas that the main difference is to be found Koorn made his appearance above the