We are the friend and apologist of Robin Hood, outlaw though he was. Hear how he may be forgiven;

"Lithe and lysten, gentylmen,
That be of frebore blode,

I shall you tell of a good yeman,
His name was Robyn Hode."

What though he hunted in the royal forest, contrary to the form of the statute in such case made and provided, entertaining an hundred tall men upon haunches of the king's fat bucks. Was not the charter unconstitutional? a rank monopoly of the merry green-wood? Were not the game laws tyrannical, cruel, unendurable by brave souls, heaven created warriors, the freest hearts, the strongest arms—in all merry England? What though he denied that property could be held in fee simple, and that he pressed the doctrine of “ equal rights" with perhaps too earnest zeal; yet was he not gallant, humane, magnanimous, and a sincere friend to the poor? Hearken to the testimony of the anthentic Stow ;- "He suffered no woman to be oppressed, violated or otherwise molested; poore men's goods he spared, abundantlie relieving them with that which, by theft, he got from abbeys, and the houses of rich carles; whom Major -the historian-blameth for his rapine and theft, but of all theeves he affirmeth him to be the prince, and the most gentle theefe."

Well! he was a practical leveller; that seems to be his offence. And is that unpardonable? Lo! even holy friars, and other good men, divers, have taught that the rich are merely trustees for the poor, and that goods and chattels are only lent to them. Shall he be condemned who executes the judgments of brotherly love and justice? God forbid. Robin, we take thy hand before the whole world, and call thee a good

fellow. Thou shalt have our vote for any office thou desires in the shades.

Those other yeomen named with Robin and little John, must not be lightly passed over. Modern times are shamed by their strength and skill. William of Cloudlesley, with an arrow from his bow, cleft a hazel rod in twain, at the distance of four hundred yards; and with another arrow shot an apple from his boy's head, at the distance of one hundred and twenty-five yards! Is there any gentleman hunter extant who will shoot against this performance? Bring up your rifles, and your boys, good people. William and his associates, we regret to admit, had some vague and indefinite notions on the subject of other people's property; and it does not appear that they were so discriminate as Robin Hood. But then they all repented, and were pardoned by the king, and were confessed by the bishop, and the king made William a gentleman, and gave him eighteen pence a day to bear his bow, and the queen gave him thirteen pence a day, and made his wife her chief gentlewoman; and then these good yeomen went forth and got cleansed with holy water,

"And after came and dwelled the kynge

And died good men all three.”

And so finally concludeth the legend ;

"Thus endeth the lives of these good yeomen,
God send them eternal blysse ;

[And all that with a hand-bowe shoteth,
That of heven may never mysse. Amen."

Amen! amen! with all our heart.

Three cheers for the

ghosts of Adam Bell & Co. Go it boys! hur-wait for the word;-Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah!

Much remains to be said of hunting. Many hunters remain

unsung. We have only brief moments to commemorate that exquisite fancy of the sport, fierce and gentle falconry.

We have a notion, that of all delights that ever it was given to man to enjoy, this must have been the most delightful.— Gentlemen of the cockpit, a fight in the air between a pigeon hawk and a blue heron!-Bold was he, and cunning, who first tamed the fiercest birds of prey, and taught them to sit upon his fist, to fly at his command, to pursue, to strike, to return, docile, faithful servants. Gentle, eager, and as humble,

and fond of the sport as our own good setters, Horatio.—Think of the king of birds soaring to the third heaven, and then hovering and swooping, and hovering and swooping, until, as it were, he could get good sight, and then, with terrible certainty, dashing down upon the devoted shoulders of an antlered monarch of the scrub oaks, and tearing out his brains, at the command of a master! Imagine yon duck hawk,-falco peregrinus—tamed, and thrown off, unhooded, from your fist, mounting into upper air, and thence, with lightning speed, striking out a wild gander from a flock of straining honkers, and then, conscious, of his deserved reward, sailing back to the bondage of his accustomed jesses! Why, people now-adays do not understand the virtue of birds. We are neophytes in ornithology and ornithodynamics. We hardly know a hawk from a hand-saw."

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For ourselves, it is our delight to read and dream of the goodly companies of noble knights and high-born dames of olden time, riding out with princely attendance to fly their hawks. We seem to hear their prancing steeds, and their gentle

"Jennettes of Spain that ben so white,
Trapped to the ground with velvet bright,"

their happy voices, and the dogs beating the bushes by the

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stream-side. We see the bittern flushed; and then, falcon, and marlyon, and gos-hawk, quick unhooded, and upsailing. We hear the tinkling of their silver bells-w s—we see the general rush of the whole happy throng following the pursuit-our breath is quick-up, up soars the bittern in lessening gyration higher and yet higher, to keep, if, alas! he may, keep above his unpitying pursuers, and avoid their fatal beaks. Vain hope! that falcon hath o'ertopped him, and now he pounces, and the poor victim feels death in his struck skull, and surrenders his life among the stars!

Not always victorious is the falcon. There are vicissitudes in the war. The hern hath a long, strong, straight, sharppointed bill; and if the hawk be unwary, he will spit his breast upon the dangerous spear thrown up to receive him, and, pierced through and through with a fatal wound, die ingloriously. We know a kindred bird, which baymen call “the straight-up" a biped something between the heron and the quaack, that is competent to do good execution after this wise. -We once ourselves, unhappy, received a fearful thrust in our dexter, from a scoundrel whom we had wing-broken on a salt marsh, which disabled us from pulling a trigger for a good fortnight. Somerville describes the performance to the life -to the death ;

"Now like a wearied stag
That stands at bay, the hern provokes their rage,
Close by his languid wing, in downy plumes
Covers his fatal beak, and, cautious, hides
The well-dissembled fraud. The falcon darts
Like lightning from above, and in her breast
Receives the latent death; down plum she falls

Bounding from earth, and with her trickling gore
Defiles her guady plumage."

Henry Inman! wilt thou not paint this picture? It is a striking illustration of " catching a tartar."

We are determined to become a faulkoner. We will build

us a mew and an aërie, and we will speak to some country friend to catch us a young hen-hawk, and a few butcher-birds, and we will revive the science. We know a pleasant meadow, where the curlew screams, and the straight-up flaps his heavy wings, and the newly-paired seges of blue herons sit solemn by the border of the interwinding rivulet, watching, with hungry patience, what truant eel, or backsliding young crab, leaving the safe channel, shall "coldly furnish forth their marriage breakfast," and dear Mary shall ride with us to the green rushes, and—

Here Mary, leaning over our shoulder, shakes us gently by the ear, and reminds us that we are impecunious, and points to a passage in aristocratic, cross, old Burton, and reads to us unwilling-we confess we hate the truth sometimes-as follows; "Hunting and hawking are honest recreations, and fit for some great men ; but not for every base, inferior person."

"That is not we, Mary dear. Docti Sumis; we are a gentlemen bred, and educated, and"

“Fiddle-de-dee; what are birth and education in a bank note world? listen! listen! who while they maintain their faulkoner, and dogs, and hunting nags, their wealth runs away with their hounds, and their fortunes fly away with their hawks.'

Reader, farewell! We are melancholy.