Some years ago a famous prize-fighter went about England on exhibition. He came to Taunton, but was there taken ill, and unable to show himself. The manager at once wrote or telegraphed to Jack Hannaford, and he went up with alacrity to supply his place. He was stripped, showed his muscles, and his mode of hitting, as the advertised pugilist. The Taunton people would have been none the wiser, but, as it happened, Lord Lundy was in the tent. Hannaford caught his eye, and saw that he was recognized; so he went over to his lordship and whispered, "Mum, my lord. The second best man in England was laid on the shelf, so they had to telegraph for the best man to take his place." Hannaford would never give any pocket-money to his sons till they were strong enough to knock him down. Then each received a five-pound note, which he was considered at length to have deserved by having made proof of his manhood. It is a fact that on market days, when Hannaford was seen on the platform with his ticket for the market town, the farmers would bribe the guard to put him into a carriage by himself and lock him in, so afraid were they of being in the same compartment with the parson, who would challenge and fight a man in a railway carriage as readily as anywhere else. Though a hunting parson, of altogether different character was Jack Russell. He was a sporting man to the end of his fingers and toes, but a most worthy, kind-hearted, God-fearing, righteous man. One story of Jack Russell that is not, I believe, told in his _Life_, is worth repeating. When he was over eighty, he started keeping a pack of harriers. The then Bishop of Exeter sent for him. "Mr. Russell, I hear you have got a pack of hounds. Is it true?" "It is. I won't deny it, my lord." "Well, Mr. Russell, it seems to me rather unsuitable for a clergyman to keep a pack. I do not ask you to give up hunting, for I know it would not be possible for you to exist without _that_. But will you, to oblige me, give up the pack?" "Do'y ask it as a personal favour, my lord?" "Yes, Mr. Russell, as a personal favour." "Very well, then, my lord, I will." "Thank you, thank you." The Bishop, moved by his readiness, held out his hand. "Give me your hand, Mr. Russell; you are--you really are--a good fellow." Jack Russell gave his great fist to the Bishop, who pressed it warmly. As they thus stood hand in hand, Jack said, "I won't deceive you--not for the world, my lord. I'll give up the pack, sure enough--but Mrs. Russell will keep it instead of me." The Bishop dropped his hand. That men like Chowne and Hannaford were unpopular in their parishes I have never heard. I do not believe they were troubled with any aggrieved parishioners. The unpopular man in his parish is he who tries to raise the moral and spiritual tone of his people. They do not like to be made to think that all is not well with them, and it affords them satisfaction to think that they are not worse, if no better, than their pastor.