many faults, and remain contented with such sport as they can show, according to the manner I have endeavoured to describe.

N.B. When they are first uncoupled they require a little gentle guidance, with as little noise as possible, as they are not unfrequently a little wild at first, and apt to pass over the scent without noticing it; for this reason it is best to leave them to themselves at first, and on no account to cross their path, or they will return to you, and thus put an end to all sport.

ON THE ANCIENT BLACK HOUND OF THE ABBOTS OF SAINT

HUBERT, IN ARDENNE.

The hound commonly known as the Saint Hubert's breed is properly quite black; but the race has been so mixed with that of other sorts, that at the present time they are found of every colour, which circumstance is much to be regretted. This long celebrated breed of hounds has always been carefully preserved by the abbots of Saint Hubert, in honour and remembrance of the saint who hunted with Saint Eustace; and as the art and pastime of venerie was practised by such venerable men, it is from thence to be presumed that all good and valiant sportsmen will, with the grace of God, follow them to Paradise ; but it is vain to pursue the path of conjectures, since it is interminable; and so we return to facts.

This race of dog was anciently very common all through the countries of Haynault, Lorraine, Flanders, and Bourgoyne. They are of an exceedingly powerful make, with rather short legs in proportion to their size. They are more celebrated for scent than for speed, as they possess the former quality in great perfection, but are occasionally rather noted as inclined to be laggards in the chase. They fear neither cold nor water, and perfer foul and heavy game, such as the fox and boar, to that of a nobler order, probably because they feel unequal or disinclined for the speed and exertion necessary for the pursuit of swifter animals, such, for instance, as the deer or hare. They are occasionally trained and used as bloodhounds, for which purpose the blackest are generally selected; but I do not think much of their skill or capabilities in this line.

I once found an old book, which was dedicated by a sportsman to a prince of the House of Lorraine, who excelled in the chase; in this document there was emblazoned the picture of a white bloodhound, which was named by his master Souillard,' probably a descendant of the hound mentioned as presented to the king. From this circumstance we may conclude that there are even white dogs of the Saint Hubert' breed.

Under the emblazoned portrait of the above-mentioned hound the following words were written :

"From Saint Hubert first I took my name,

Son of Souillard,' that hound of fame."

Napoleon's Escape from Elba-We are ordered to Belgium-Reach it "just in time to be too late" for Waterloo-Bivouac in Paris-I am appointed Aide-deCamp to General Marston-Embark for Quebec on board H. M. F. Rokeby.

As, in the days we write of, neither the gigantic power of steam, nor the magic influence of electricity, had displayed their almost supernatural qualities-when, instead of being able to "waft a sigh from Indus to the pole," or send a message to a friend in Paris, to ask him to dine with you in London, on the evening of the invitation, we were content to wait some days for home, and many weeks for foreign news. Can it be wondered, then, that during our transatlantic campaign we should have been kept in profound ignorance of what had been going on in France during the early part of the memorable year of 1815? and yet how much had happened in that interval! Napoleon had escaped from Porto Ferrajo in the Isle of Elba; Wellington had attended the Congress at Vienna, where the four allied sovereigns of Great Britain, Austria, Russia, and Prussia had made a declaration, binding themselves to maintain the treaty of Paris, to keep each one hundred and fifty thousand men in the field, and not to lay down their arms until Bonaparte should be placed without the pale of civil and social relations, as an enemy and destroyer of the tranquillity of the world; Louis XVIII. had abdicated the throne of his ancestors; Ney, "the bravest of the brave," who had declared that he would bring his former chief to Paris like a wild beast in a cage, had recognized his superiority, joined him, and again sunk into his satellite. To resume: our passage to Ostend afforded no incident that would bear even the slightest detail, and there

fore let it pass. Upon landing, we were ordered to proceed by forced marches towards Brussels. Ere we had gained our destination the battle of Waterloo had been fought. I pass over the rest of the campaign. We reached Paris unmolested, and after a few days were snugly encamped in the Champs Elysées. So many narratives of the allied armies in Paris have been published, that I shall content myself with saying that the summer passed delightfully. The rejoicings which followed the restoration of the Bourbons were in a style of which I had no previous conception. There were reviews in the Champ de Mars, and public fêtes in the Champs Elysées and Tivoli Gardens. I should tire my readers, were I to dwell upon all the gaieties of that time. Let them picture to themselves an immense army pouring along the spacious quays of Paris in battalions and squadrons-the bright cuirasses of the heavy dragoons, the waving pennons of the lancers, the soldier-like bear-skin caps of the grenadiers, the gay costume of the light infantry, the multitude of plumes and banners fluttering in the breeze, the magnificence of the marshals and their staff, the royal cortége, the bands of inspiring music-these, set off by the glowing sun, produced an effect that cannot be described. Then the Champs Elysées on a gala-daythe temporary stands from which all sorts of eatables were distributed to the populace; the fountains of wine playing into the jars and cups of all who chose to adventure getting near them; the theatres, puppetshows, jugglers, mountebanks, the games of every description dispersed throughout the green sward; the quadrilles and waltzes for those who liked to trip it "on the light, fantastic toe;" all species of music, from the wandering Italian and his hurdy-gurdy to the Jullien of that day, with his magnificent band-these all formed an entertainment delightful to the multitude. The rejoicing usually concluded with a display of fireworks, commencing with a flight of five thousand rockets of various colours at one coup, and terminating with the ascent of a balloon, loaded with every species of fireworks, which, bursting high in air, illuminated by their momentary blaze the whole hemisphere. And here a slight digression may be pardonable, in favour of that unhappy, distracted country, France-a country which, within the memory of living man, has witnessed the extinction of three legitimate monarchs, the abdication of the "man of the people," the deposition of the Orleans dynasty, a country which has been the scene of three sanguinary revolutions, and, for all we know to the contrary, may again be involved in civil or other warfare. The feverish and restless state of the nation-ever ready for a change-may, at an hour's notice, set aside the presidency of Louis Napoleon, the wisest and bravest man that has ever ruled over the destinies of that fickle race- -brave not alone in animal courage, for that is the characteristic of every Frenchman; but morally brave; animated with but one motive-the good of his country.-Napoleon proceeds firmly and conscientiously in what he conceives the right path of duty. No threats from the Anarchists, no taunts from the Conservatives, no hostility from his supporters, will induce him to swerve to the right or the left. If he cannot "command success," at least he "deserves it."

I must now put on my seven-league boots, and, passing over a year in France, bring the reader to the period when, having accepted a staff appointment with my father's old and highly-valued friend, General Marston, about to proceed to Canada, I found myself at the George Inn,

Portsmouth, under sailing orders. Upon inquiring for the General, I was ushered into his presence. On making my bow, I saw before me a fine military-looking man, apparently forty years of age. His deportment was dignified and commanding; and there was an urbanity in his manner which at once relieved me from all embarrassment. He spoke of my family in the kindest strain, and complimented me in very courteous terms, for the zeal I had evinced in joining him at the earliest period; for I had posted from Dover, so as to reach Portsmouth on the day previous to the one named for our sailing.

Little occurred during our stay in the garrison. Happily for me my time was so much occupied, that I had scarcely a moment to brood over my griefs. The thought of parting from Ellen Ramsay, for what then appeared an age, was one of agony. I had written to her on my arrival in England, and anxiously awaited her answer, to cheer me during our prolonged separation.

The General's baggage all being on board, and the ship reported quite ready, we only waited the going down of a fresh summer's gale from the westward, to embark. On the morning of the 18th of June, the wind suddenly veered to the north; and knowing the anxiety of the General, I had taken care to have the first information of a change of wind-which fact I communicated to him early, so that we were quite prepared for a call. At nine the Admiral politely sent his flaglieutenant to announce to us that the Rokeby would sail at twelve. Shortly afterwards, a little "mid" made his appearance, with a note from Captain Warwick, to say that he had ordered a cutter to the sally-point, to take on board our traps and servants, as soon as they could conveniently be sent down, and to tell the General that the flag-ship's barge would lie in waiting at the same place at eleven, to take him and suite on board. The Captain added, "I am sorry I cannot accompany you; but it will be necessary for me to be in attendance at the Admiral's office up to the last minute. Having a fast gig of my own, I shall hope to be on board in time myself, to receive you-if not, the firstlieutenant will show you your quarters, and do you the honours." The gallant Captain, however, did not come on board until nearly one o'clock, and as I learnt from his coxswain, that he was clear of the Admiral's office, which was nearly opposite The George, at eleven, that he embarked at the hard at Portsea, I arrived at the conclusion that he, like some of ourselves, had some adieus to make, which in peaceable times affect soldiers and sailors, bound for an indefinite period to foreign climes, or countries, with a weight infinitely more oppressive than when hopes run high, and honour, glory, and speedy promotion are in the ascendant-when, as I soon heard from my messmates of a month, a standing toast in the gun-room on the West India station used to be "Continuance of a sanguinary war, and a sickly season!" Shortly before eleven we left our comfortable quarters of The George, at eleven -the walk not being more than five minutes to the sally-port-the Admiral did the General the honour of accompanying him on foot, as the offer of his carriage had been declined. The “old and bold ”—at that time quartered at Portsmouth-were marching towards the common, to fire a feu-de-joie, it being the anniversary of the battle of Waterloo. Remnant as they were (being less than four hundred strong), a finer body of men were seldom to be seen; and as they had all just been

newly clothed, they looked as British soldiers should look. The Lieutenant-Governor was at their head, and seeing the General and staff (for with the Admiral's party we appeared an imposing cortége), a few hasty words were exchanged with the commanding officer, when the Lieutenant-Governor and staff rode over to us, dismounted, and entered into conversation with my chief, the purport of which I did not hear; but the meaning was soon apparent, for instead of continuing our walk direct to the sally-port, we debouched a little to the left, and proceeded to the parade-ground, which hereabout nearly joins the High-street. The regiment in the mean time had formed into line; the words "Rear rank take open order!" were given; and the usual honours were paid.

The saluting over, we proceeded to the sally-port, and there found a twelve-oared barge-the Admiral's own-manned by a dozen handsome and well-made fellows, such as were to be at that time called from the crews of our men-of-war: the number required being only two or three per cent. of the ships' companies, they were sure to be the élite of the crews the coxswain was no way behind his men in appearance; neither did the lieutenant of the flag-ship, who on this occasion was ordered to attend, nor the midshipman, do discredit to the crew-all were neat and orderly. Black shiny hats, a little on one side, with the ship's name in gold on a black ribbon band; duck frocks and trousers, the collars turning over, lined with light blue calico, and knowingly stitched; black silk neckcloths, brought round in front and passing through a ring; a bit of marline round each neck, to which was appended the necessary buckhorn handled knife; shoes with a superabundance of tie, long in the quarters, completed the costume. On the beach, stood two of the men at the foot of the gang-board, each holding the end of a boat-hook-the staff painted green. In the head-sheets stood two more, holding the other ends of the same staves. Behind them stood the next six respectfully, hat in hand, showing the curling black head-gear, and a plenteous crop of dark whiskers. One on each quarter was engaged in keeping the boat from swaying from the direct right-angle with the beach, through the little run which there generally is on beaches in the least exposed situations: at this time it was rather more than usual; the wind having veered to the southward of east, had increased in freshness. I noted all these things most particularly, from the singular contrast it offered to my last embarkation, when I was huddled together with three or four brother-officers, with as many men as the boat could hold, and more than would have been safe had a breeze sprung upwhere, so far from respect being paid to persons, we found seats where we could; and so far from apologies for treading on our toes being offered, I was actually holding one foot in my hand, my knee drawn from a crunch by the greasy, tarry, black-handed transport-sailor who rowed the stroke oar, and who did it, I verily believe, on purpose.

The contrast was indeed great. Cordial adieus and bows over, the General entered the barge, followed by his aids-de-camp and his military secretary. Assisted by the arms of the crew, we seated ourselves on handsome Morocco cushions, resting our feet on a variegated rug made of bunting. Scarcely, however, was the order given to shove off, which was obeyed with a little too much alacrity and force, when a lop of a sea, a little higher than usual, seeming to take offence at being so unceremoniously pushed against, took the liberty of fairly looking into