The Sun.
London, England, 1857-05-04 00:00:00

A SNAKE IN THE GRASS.

When the season is over your true earnest sports-
man has little else to do but to fight his battles
over again. Squire meets squire—squire agricul-
tural, squire commercial, squire official, squire
legal, squire clerical, for there are squires of all
sorts—and, when the ladies have left the room, by
the warmth of an April fire they talk over their
covers, their preserves, their stables, their kennels,
their armouries, and all the sweet auxiliaries and
furniture of sport. On these occasions bosoms are
unlocked, and the observations and meditations of
half a year reveal themselves. The favourite hun-
ter's forelegs and his rider's weight are candidly
considered ; "You won't ride that brown mare

another season ;" such a pointer is getting
idle, and such 'a grey-hound cunning ;
such a gun kicks, or hangs,fire, or is too heavy, or
won't carry far enough for this country, where the
birds are very wild. " What shot do you use for
grouse ?" What do you find the best wadding?"
What do you give your keepers ?" "Do you ever
give your hunters carrots ?" Then come in shoot-
ing jackets, and boots, and pouches for all sorts of
purposes. Then the best breakfast to hunt upon
or to walk 20 miles upon, or to set one's self up
with when rather " done up." The subject ,has
endless ramifications, and in an age of improve-
ment, with such a succession of new minds brought
to bear upon it, is on every point inexhaustible.
The curate sits by, munching the brandy cherries,
or yielding his inner soul to the contemplation of
a gay new altarcloth, a rare encaustic tile, or a
quaint " poppy head." For hours and hours,
evening after evening, this is country life in Eng-
land ; and for this the merchant pines to leave his
counting-house, the lawyer his desk, the official his
post, and every man his work, whatever it may
be. There is a good' deal to be said for it, andinot
much against it. At all events, it is a common ob-
ject, a pursuit, a war against a common foe, not
one of ourselves. It is not everybody who cares
for the subject ; but the question concerns those
who do care for it, not those who do not. Perhaps
they prefer human game ; the pursuit is more in-
teresting, perhaps, but not so harmless or sociable.
It certainly is a matter for congratulation that when
the brother Nimrods are discussing these grave
affairs, the intended prey are silly brutes or worth-
less vermin. The guns are not to be pointed at
our neighbours' windows ; the shot is not for their
bodies. The rival sportsmen are fellow sportsmen
also, and the competition is not suicidal.
The great sportsmen of Europe have had a
glorious season, a regular battue in the Crimea,
capital duck-shooting in the Black Sea, and some
rather mild sport in the Baltic. The return of
gold is considerable, and the improvements in
guns, shot, and all the personal as well as the ma-
terial accessories of the amusement immense. We
have finished for the present ; indeed, the preserves
are almost bare, and horses, dogs, and all, fairly
done up. So now is the time for that aftersport
we have attempted to describe. The Grand Duke
Constantine is come to visit his sporting neigh-
bours-, Napoleon and Victoria. He seems to be
making rather a long stay with the former, the
latter not being quite ready for him just now.
They are doing their very best to amuse him across
the Channel, and have carefully hunted up the
precedents of Peter the Great's visit to Paris Mi-
me liately after the accession of the house of Hano-
ver to this throne, and of Paul's a few years before
the French Revolution. The Grand Chamberlain,
the masters of the ceremonies, admirals, field-
marshals, prefects, authorities, and constituted
bodies of all kinds, are doing their best to show off
France—her splendour, her power, her gaiety, her
politeness. Public entries, receptions, balls, operas,
reviews, hunts, and everything that princes are
eupposed to delight in, are prepared with a zeal
that to France is so usual and characteristic as to
require no explanation and admit of no comment.
But the Grand Duke is a man of business—" a
keen sportsman," and " business before pleasure if
you please." His soul is in the arsenals and dock-
yards. Your real sporting neighbour has never
done with your horses, your dogs, and your guns,
and the Grand Duke returned again and again to
the foundries and workshops. On a second visit to
the dockyard of Toulon, after examining the new
gunboats and a model frigate, he broke out, " I am
impatient to have done with these official receptions
in order that we may more carefully examine
together your ships and your dockyards." The
floating batteries he examined with intense curio-
sity. To the conductors he imparted his confidential
opinion that they would be a failure against any

heavier ordnance or a closer fire than that at
Kinburn ; and, hearing that some under equip-
ment were intended for China, he pleasantly ob-
served, "So you are going to take the chesnuts
out of the fire there too." But nothing came amiss
to his useful and vigilant curiosity. Water-tanks,
sail-stores, oil-stores, small armouries, iron and
copper works—everything that contributes to per-
fection in the sport—he went through and inspected
with a yard measure in hand. As he always re-
duced the French measures to ours, it is evident
that the British Navy has been the earliest and the
most favoured object of his official studies. The
Grand Duke is quite a model for tourists. This is
turning travel to account. When his grandfather,
his father, and his uncles came to this country they
also brought with them engineers and savans, and
took home all sorts of peaceful inventions. But the
Grund Duke, as we have said, is a man of business,
and he returns to the example of the founder of his
empire, who wielded not only a yard measure, but
an adze, in our dockyards. As a nation of keen
sportsmen, of people who must have an object, and
who adapt the means to the end, we cannot but
respect the Grand Duke's way of seeing " foreign
parts." We cannot help sympathising with him in
his pursuits ; nor, it appears, can the French. He
has won his way to their hearts. Indeed, it is
quite delightful to see the flags of all nations
blended, national airs alternated, captured cannon,
balls, and other trophies, magnanimously hidden,
to be uncovered, and all sorts of recollections of
certain recent occurrences fondly brought up, while
Russia, France, and England, soon to be added to
the group, are examining one another's weapons
with scientific, and affectionate interest, and inter;
changing hints, or " wrinkles," as sportsmen now
call them, for future use. Is not this the lion and
the ox, the wolf and the lamb, lying down toge-
gether ? But an odd thought strikes one. Where
is the game for this sport ? What's the " country,"
brother sportsmen, that you seem so busily and
amicably polishing your weapons and taking sweet
counsel for ? For the noblest possible prey—for
oue of themselves. Two are to chase, hunt down,
shoot, snare, or to destroy the third ; and which
the sportsmen, which the game, time alone can
show.

This consideration imparts a particular interest
to the Grand Duke's approaching visit to this coun-
try. When a brother sportsman examines your
fowlingpieces, your dogs, or your ffshing tackle,
you may or may not feel anxious to hear that he
has bagged more birds or lauded more fish than you
have. In this case the object is to bag you, and, of
course, you are interested. You are the vermin,
and your guest has a fancy for your meat, your fur,
or merely your brush to present to his lady, or
sweep the dust from his ancestral hall. So he
wishes to study your ways, your haunts, your
track, where you burrow, when you come out to
feed, how you run, how you double, how you de-
fend yourself if you can, the thickness of your fur
or your feathers, and what shot will do for you.
Small shot, 18-pounders, for example, will glance
off your feathers, and the Grand Duke finds he
must have heavier metal to do the work. But,
like all sportsmen, he is quite fair, and teaches
while he learns. He lets us know the thickness of
his own fur, and the weight of metal he can stand
with impunity. Nevertheless, this is no visit of
ceremony or pleasure, and the High Admiral of the
Russian fleet, the sternest of the Russian Princes,
is no mere " fine, frank-hearted sailor," but a man
who goes about a yard wand, and makes three vi-
sits to a gunboat or dockyard.

" A chiel's amang you takin' notes,"

and if he does not publish them, which will not
answer his purpose, he will put them to a better
use. _ _

However, as far as wo are concerned, the Grand
Duke Constantine is most heartily welcome to see
everything that is to be seen in this country. He
will not see so splendid a capital as our neigh-
bours have to show ; he will not have such fates in
his honour, and possibly not be assisted with quite
so much alacrity in his.naval measurements ; but
there is not an invention of peace that England

—in their perfect freedom, ana
enterprise—than in any aggressive or defensive or-
-, .-91-int.. He will see that we are Ballyi a mili-
tary Power because we seek peace rather than war,
while the weakness of bis country has lain in its
aggressive spirit and expressly military organisa-
tion. We are amused with the Grand Duke's visit
to the Dockyards and the Court of France. Of
course, we aware that Russia would rather have
Prance for an ally than a foe, and that on the most
common
,grounds of policy France will do her best
"to be civil" to her Imperial visitor. Indeed, we
take it all as a matter of course. We feel, however,
that what we have to show Russia is neither naval
establishments nor Royal magnificence. We neither
dread Russia as a foe, nor particularly desire her
as an ally ; but we do most earnestly desire to see
her entering cordially and unreservedly into the
race of civilisation. We wish to interchange with
her not the ideas and the materials of only military
success, but of peaceful progress. In this sense
Russia will find England much more of a sister and
an ally than even France, which is still swathed and
cradled by a jealous and prohibitory system. We
want in Russia neither a foe nor an ally, but sim-
ply a neighbour ; and if Russia desires to be worth
more fifty years hence, as either foe or ally, she
will do well to accept this advice.—Times.

THE VALUE OF THEATRICAL PROPERTY.

A correspondent addresses to us the following
complaint ;—A few days since, at the Auction Mart,
Mr. Robins disposed of a 5001. renter's share in
Drury-lane Theatre, paying au annual dividend,
with a marketable free admission, transferable
yearly, which produced 46/, 65., and fifteen 1001.
proprietary shares, with a free life 'admission pro-
duced 341. 3s. 6d. ; so that theatrical property which
originally cost 2,0001. sold in the public market
for 801. Os. Gd., being but a fraction over 4 per
cent. of the original cost. This great depreciation
in value may be attributed to some circumstances
attending the property, for it seems to be its fate,
whenever it has become valuable and paying, always
to have some obstacle thrown in the way on the
part of the committee, or committees we should say,
for, with a rental of 4,000/., there are five sub-
committees, then a general committee, then a
secretary, then a property master, then an archi-
tect, then a party to take charge of the music—all
these have the management of the theatre. When
Mr. Macready was lessee he was obliged to give up
the theatre through the caprice of those concerned ;
then Mr. Boon, then Mr. Gye, and latterly, through
some differences of the renters and Mr. Gye, the
proprietors, renters, and .public have been deprived
of a splendid treat in Italian opera. We have had
wild beasts on the stage, and her Majesty has at-
tended the feeding. We have had every kind of enter-
tainment, and a first-rate American company have
offered to take the theatre for equestrian perform-
ances. They have been several times at the thea-
tre, and done no harm. The theatre is let for
promenade concerts by the sanction of the commit-
tee, and horsemanship is considered not to be an
art and amusement for the public. Great, very
great dissatisfaction is expressed by the renters at
these delays in letting. By the theatre being open
they receive Si. extra over 200 nights ; indeed it
will be found that they receive 6001. for extra rent
over and above 4,0001. paid by Mr. Smith, and
would not have received one penny but for these
extra nights ; yet the committee, who are
merely trustees for this body of gentlemen, do
all they can to prevent money coming into the
house, and keep the theatre closed, which is do-
ing more damage than all the promenade con-
certs and horsemanship possibly could do. The
proprietors, who have the power, must alter this,
or else they will find no lessee who will undertake
to pay 4,0001. a year for the theatre which is subject
to the control of persons whose interests seem op-
posed
to tire bowifide owners of the property.