those horses that carry us. If I would be prodigal of my time and your
patience, what might not I say in commendations of the earth? That
puts limits to the proud and raging sea, and by that means preserves
both man and beast, that it destroys them not, as we see it daily doth
those that venture upon the sea, and are there shipwrecked, drowned,
and left to feed Haddocks; when we that are so wise as to keep
ourselves on earth, walk, and talk, and live, and eat, and drink, and go a
hunting: of which recreation I will say a little, and then leave Mr.
Piscator to the commendation of Angling.

Hunting is a game for princes and noble persons; it hath been highly
prized in all ages; it was one of the qualifications that Xenophon
bestowed on his Cyrus, that he was a hunter of wild beasts. Hunting
trains up the younger nobility to the use of manly exercises in their
riper age. What more manly exercise than hunting the Wild Boar, the
Stag, the Buck, the Fox, or the Hare ? How doth it preserve health, and
increase strength and activity !

And for the dogs that we use, who can commend their excellency to
that height which they deserve ? How perfect is the hound at smelling,
who never leaves or forsakes his first scent, but follows it through so
many changes and varieties of other scents, even over, and in, the
water, and into the earth! What music doth a pack of dogs then make to
any man, whose heart and ears are so happy as to be set to the tune of
such instruments! How will a right Greyhound fix his eye on the best
Buck in a herd, single him out, and follow him, and him only, through a
whole herd of rascal game, and still know and then kill him! For my
hounds, I know the language of them, and they know the language and
meaning of one another, as perfectly as we know the voices of those
with whom we discourse daily.