DOI issue:
July to December, 1845
DOI Page / Citation link:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.16541#0214
ere my Taylor somewhere compares
the world to a board pierced with
square and round holes, and many of its
men to square and round pegs, unfit-
tingly placed in them. Thus, we often
see an angular man, intended for a
court of law — a square human peg,
like Henry of Exeter or any other
special pleader with a black apron, in
the easy round of a bishopric. We
have only to look into our Houses of
Parliament to acknowledge the quaint
truthfulness of old Jeremy's saving,—
for how much foolish legislation do we
owe to pegs in false places ? Now, Mr.
Grantley Berkeley is assuredly a peg
in a wrong position. Nature evidently
intended him for a game-keeper,—when
Fortune—to keep up her reputation for
blindness—stept in, and made him, by the
grace of goods, a gentleman and a legis-
lator. This peg in a wrong place is again
before the world : again are we called
upon to lament the position of human
genius, dropt in the wrong hole.
A few days since, Mr. Berkeley pro-
secuted two poachers " whose characters
were well known to him." He pressed
for " the severest reprobation,'' which
holiday phrase means the longest possible term of imprisonment, or
the heaviest money fine. And wherefore ? Because their defence
in a former instance—
" Had been stained by the most irreligious arid lying perjury that ever came from
the lips of a criminal endeavouring to screen his fellows from the consequence of sin.
" The consequence of sin ! " Ha ! Mr. Berkeley, human nature
—especially the heavy, clayey part of it, of which rustics are com-
pounded—is hopelessly dull at some lessons. How many magistrates
— the body, too, refined and sublimated by more than a judicious
sprinkling of parsons—have, for years and years, been trying to
teach the English peasant that it is a sin to wire a hare or bag a
bird ? Miserable, darkened creature! He cannot read the word
"property" written in its fur—emblazoned in its plumage. And
yet prisons have been built, that he might therein con the lesson ;
and teachers of the Word of God appointed to help his halting intel-
lect. No—so stubborn is some sort of humanity—you cannot make
him take the lesson to heart : you cannot—aid his vision by what
law you will—so improve his twilight sense, that he shall read the
word "property" marked on game—although to the piercing eye of
a sporting gentleman it may be as plain, nay, plainer, than the sun in
Heaven. The illiterate wretch at once recognises it on a sheep's
back, ruddled or not; but he cannot spell it out on a partridge,—nor
will all the teaching of a hundred statutes, with the whole bench of
Bishops as expositors, help him in his ignorance. Therefore should1
Mr. Berkeley have some compassion for lower men, who cannot
recognise sin in an act which—from the spiritualised nature of the
Christian " puncher on the head "—so shocks the moral sense of a
sporting gentleman. Saint Francis, we are told, in the compre-
hensiveness of his love, was wont to call beasts and birds his brothers
and sisters. Now, with all Mr. Berkeley's affection for hares and
pheasants, we do not think the less of his benevolence because he
cannot consider these animals with the like tenderness of the Saint.
Though, by the way, we doubt not there are sportsmen who, without
knowing it, may in such affection even surpass St. Francis.
However, we have not come to the great wrong of Mr. Berkeley.
The poachers were committed : the great Game Preserver had
bagged his men, and doubtless tasted on his pillow that sweet repose
that ever waits upon a good deed,—when, in brief season, Mr.
Collett, M.P. for Athlone, sent the imprisoned poachers five
rr,, • , , pounds. The men escaped : and those of our readers who remember
lhese are serious, nay, solemn words. Ine pious game-preserver, I f, , , , „, ,, k , « t>i„„u t?rt_00*
• ci.- .i rx. • * -x 6 j . the glum and baffled look of some necromancer of the Black sorest,
in the excess ot his abhorrence of human infirmity, crowds epithet , 6 . , . , . , , .,___„x xi,„ „^^Q^v, r.f
■ . t, ■ •j . . x i • v • when, in a pantomime, he sinks through a trap at the approach ot
on epithet; theperjury^committed is, strange o say, both irreligious the £ d £ £ ' iW concefve the ^gnified ire of the-
?w Argt* ! f conse*ienc.e 0f *m ! . We ha7e n°i°T Member for Bristol, defeated in his legal wrath by the Member for
tnat Mr. Berkeley looks upon the iniquity of a poacher with the A , 0 v c \i xi • i xi • * • „ „„„„ ;„„„.(;„„„( .
„„„ i„ , . . j, s, -c . ij i j j I Athlone. Some folks may think the intrusion very impertinent,.
same horror that a priest of old Egypt would have considered any | ^ tfae cQunt ossesse&
offence committed on the animals sacred to his temple,-and for the ! . o_. ' * . , 11v want _ Romii Ho0D.
certain squires, it does not wholly want a Robin Hood.
Mr. Collett, however, does not pass without a lecture on the
improper use of his money. The pious Berkeley says :—
'I can furnish him with a list of deserving poor [of Athlone], to whom his gifts
same profound and touching reason. The pheasant and hare are to
the religion of the squire what the ibis and the crocodile were to the
devotion of the ancient hierarch. They are solemn things, sanctified
to the especial uses of sporting gentlemen ; they are the sacred
creatures of the acres-formed an! sent into this world for the sole "ZentfnTuZt'" °f Godandman' and not premmms UP°Q ™' " m
delectation of the upper classes,—the gunpowder priests, licensed to
hunt and shoot. Nevertheless, we respect the prejudices of Mr. Really, it is passing sweet, in these selfish, money-getting days, to
Berkeley, as we respect the ignorance of any idolater, " suckled in fall upon matter like this, where religion, by the happy nature of the
writer, is so constantly rendered the handmaid to sporting. Old
authors were wont to commence every canto or chapter with an
a creed outworn.
But are only the rich to have their prejudices ? Are not poachers,
as well as landed gentlemen, to have, at least, their share of human invocation to the Deity. We can almost imagine a sportsman, so
infirmity ? What sounding words are these :—" the consequence of impressed with the solemnity of his amusement, that he shall not
sin !" We can fancy them, falling sonorously, awfully, from the ■ take aim without some such ceremony ; nay, can fancy him so
lips of some reverend man denouncing the commission of murder, ; associating religion with shooting, that he shall ram down every
or some other deadly crime ; but when dropping from a sporting j charge with a leaf of the Prayer-Book.
gentleman—from one, too, who has grafted upon his Christianity { Well, a few days pass, and the great Game Preserver makes an
the meek doctrine of " a punch on the head,"—we are almost tempted j amended charge against his old enemies, released by Mr. Collett, of
with Uncle Toby to whistle LillibuUero ! \ " unlawfully using a dog." The dog, it was proved, ran after a hare—
the world to a board pierced with
square and round holes, and many of its
men to square and round pegs, unfit-
tingly placed in them. Thus, we often
see an angular man, intended for a
court of law — a square human peg,
like Henry of Exeter or any other
special pleader with a black apron, in
the easy round of a bishopric. We
have only to look into our Houses of
Parliament to acknowledge the quaint
truthfulness of old Jeremy's saving,—
for how much foolish legislation do we
owe to pegs in false places ? Now, Mr.
Grantley Berkeley is assuredly a peg
in a wrong position. Nature evidently
intended him for a game-keeper,—when
Fortune—to keep up her reputation for
blindness—stept in, and made him, by the
grace of goods, a gentleman and a legis-
lator. This peg in a wrong place is again
before the world : again are we called
upon to lament the position of human
genius, dropt in the wrong hole.
A few days since, Mr. Berkeley pro-
secuted two poachers " whose characters
were well known to him." He pressed
for " the severest reprobation,'' which
holiday phrase means the longest possible term of imprisonment, or
the heaviest money fine. And wherefore ? Because their defence
in a former instance—
" Had been stained by the most irreligious arid lying perjury that ever came from
the lips of a criminal endeavouring to screen his fellows from the consequence of sin.
" The consequence of sin ! " Ha ! Mr. Berkeley, human nature
—especially the heavy, clayey part of it, of which rustics are com-
pounded—is hopelessly dull at some lessons. How many magistrates
— the body, too, refined and sublimated by more than a judicious
sprinkling of parsons—have, for years and years, been trying to
teach the English peasant that it is a sin to wire a hare or bag a
bird ? Miserable, darkened creature! He cannot read the word
"property" written in its fur—emblazoned in its plumage. And
yet prisons have been built, that he might therein con the lesson ;
and teachers of the Word of God appointed to help his halting intel-
lect. No—so stubborn is some sort of humanity—you cannot make
him take the lesson to heart : you cannot—aid his vision by what
law you will—so improve his twilight sense, that he shall read the
word "property" marked on game—although to the piercing eye of
a sporting gentleman it may be as plain, nay, plainer, than the sun in
Heaven. The illiterate wretch at once recognises it on a sheep's
back, ruddled or not; but he cannot spell it out on a partridge,—nor
will all the teaching of a hundred statutes, with the whole bench of
Bishops as expositors, help him in his ignorance. Therefore should1
Mr. Berkeley have some compassion for lower men, who cannot
recognise sin in an act which—from the spiritualised nature of the
Christian " puncher on the head "—so shocks the moral sense of a
sporting gentleman. Saint Francis, we are told, in the compre-
hensiveness of his love, was wont to call beasts and birds his brothers
and sisters. Now, with all Mr. Berkeley's affection for hares and
pheasants, we do not think the less of his benevolence because he
cannot consider these animals with the like tenderness of the Saint.
Though, by the way, we doubt not there are sportsmen who, without
knowing it, may in such affection even surpass St. Francis.
However, we have not come to the great wrong of Mr. Berkeley.
The poachers were committed : the great Game Preserver had
bagged his men, and doubtless tasted on his pillow that sweet repose
that ever waits upon a good deed,—when, in brief season, Mr.
Collett, M.P. for Athlone, sent the imprisoned poachers five
rr,, • , , pounds. The men escaped : and those of our readers who remember
lhese are serious, nay, solemn words. Ine pious game-preserver, I f, , , , „, ,, k , « t>i„„u t?rt_00*
• ci.- .i rx. • * -x 6 j . the glum and baffled look of some necromancer of the Black sorest,
in the excess ot his abhorrence of human infirmity, crowds epithet , 6 . , . , . , , .,___„x xi,„ „^^Q^v, r.f
■ . t, ■ •j . . x i • v • when, in a pantomime, he sinks through a trap at the approach ot
on epithet; theperjury^committed is, strange o say, both irreligious the £ d £ £ ' iW concefve the ^gnified ire of the-
?w Argt* ! f conse*ienc.e 0f *m ! . We ha7e n°i°T Member for Bristol, defeated in his legal wrath by the Member for
tnat Mr. Berkeley looks upon the iniquity of a poacher with the A , 0 v c \i xi • i xi • * • „ „„„„ ;„„„.(;„„„( .
„„„ i„ , . . j, s, -c . ij i j j I Athlone. Some folks may think the intrusion very impertinent,.
same horror that a priest of old Egypt would have considered any | ^ tfae cQunt ossesse&
offence committed on the animals sacred to his temple,-and for the ! . o_. ' * . , 11v want _ Romii Ho0D.
certain squires, it does not wholly want a Robin Hood.
Mr. Collett, however, does not pass without a lecture on the
improper use of his money. The pious Berkeley says :—
'I can furnish him with a list of deserving poor [of Athlone], to whom his gifts
same profound and touching reason. The pheasant and hare are to
the religion of the squire what the ibis and the crocodile were to the
devotion of the ancient hierarch. They are solemn things, sanctified
to the especial uses of sporting gentlemen ; they are the sacred
creatures of the acres-formed an! sent into this world for the sole "ZentfnTuZt'" °f Godandman' and not premmms UP°Q ™' " m
delectation of the upper classes,—the gunpowder priests, licensed to
hunt and shoot. Nevertheless, we respect the prejudices of Mr. Really, it is passing sweet, in these selfish, money-getting days, to
Berkeley, as we respect the ignorance of any idolater, " suckled in fall upon matter like this, where religion, by the happy nature of the
writer, is so constantly rendered the handmaid to sporting. Old
authors were wont to commence every canto or chapter with an
a creed outworn.
But are only the rich to have their prejudices ? Are not poachers,
as well as landed gentlemen, to have, at least, their share of human invocation to the Deity. We can almost imagine a sportsman, so
infirmity ? What sounding words are these :—" the consequence of impressed with the solemnity of his amusement, that he shall not
sin !" We can fancy them, falling sonorously, awfully, from the ■ take aim without some such ceremony ; nay, can fancy him so
lips of some reverend man denouncing the commission of murder, ; associating religion with shooting, that he shall ram down every
or some other deadly crime ; but when dropping from a sporting j charge with a leaf of the Prayer-Book.
gentleman—from one, too, who has grafted upon his Christianity { Well, a few days pass, and the great Game Preserver makes an
the meek doctrine of " a punch on the head,"—we are almost tempted j amended charge against his old enemies, released by Mr. Collett, of
with Uncle Toby to whistle LillibuUero ! \ " unlawfully using a dog." The dog, it was proved, ran after a hare—