suppressed riding; for the hunting parson generally rides hard.
Unless he loved hunting much he would not be there. But the cloud
is to be perceived and heard in the manner in which he speaks of
himself and his own doings. He is never natural in his self-talk
as is any other man. He either flies at his own cloth at once,
marring some false apology for his presence, telling you that he
is there just to see the hounds, and hinting to you his own know
ledge that he has no business to ride after them; or else he
drops his profession altogether, and speaks to you in a tone
which makes you feel that you would not dare to speak to him
about his parish. You can talk to the banker about his banking,
the brewer about his brewing, the farmer about his barley, or the
landlord about his land; but to a hunting parson of this latter
class, you may not say a word about his church.

There are three modes in which a hunting parson may dress himself
for hunting, the variations having reference solely to the
nether man. As regards the upper man there can never be a
difference. A chimney-pot hat, a white neckerchief, somewhat
broad in its folds and strong with plentiful starch, a stout
black coat, cut rather shorter than is common with clergymen, and
a modest, darksome waistcoat that shall attract no
attention, these are all matters of course. But the observer, if
he will allow his eye to descend below these upper garments, will
perceive that the clergyman may be comfortable and bold in
breeches, or he may be uncomfortable and semi-decorous in black
trowsers. And there is another mode of dress open to him, which I
can assure my readers is not an unknown costume, a tertium quid,
by which semi-decorum and comfort are combined. The hunting
breeches are put on first, and the black trowsers are drawn over