Consequently about the middle of her reign an order was issued that all captured horses must without exception be sent direct to the queen, the infliction of a severe penalty being threatened if the order should be disregarded. A number of these animals were subsequently sent as gifts to the more faithful of her nobles, and all the recipients sent in return “expressions of extremest gratitude.” There is a diversity of opinion as to what constituted “the staple article of food” of horses in the sixteenth century, though of course hay was used largely. Bishop Hall throws some light upon the subject when he mentions that thoroughbred stallions when largely in demand were given eggs and oysters. Reference to eggs and oysters in this connection is made elsewhere, so we may conclude that the custom of thus feeding stallions was not an uncommon one, at any rate in the time of Elizabeth. Horse bread has already been mentioned, but I have not come upon any direct allusion to oats being used to feed horses upon at this period. Several of the writers in Elizabeth's reign openly bemoaned the development of horse racing, urging that trouble and disaster followed in its train, but their moans were for the most part stifled in the clamour of general approbation. Among those who spoke strongly in condemnation of horse racing was the rather eccentric Lord Herbert of Cherbury. Late in life he wrote—to the amusement of his friends and relatives—a complete history of his own career, in which volume he again reverts to his pet aversion by declaring that among the exercises of which he disapproved were “the riding of running horses, there being much cheating in that kind.” Hunting also he clearly objected to, for he goes on to tell his readers that he does not like hunting horses, “that exercise taking up more time than can be spared for a man studious to get knowledge.” From other of his remarks it becomes obvious that some three centuries ago the men who devoted the better part of their lives to the sport of hunting became to such a degree engrossed in it that in time they could hardly be brought to talk, or indeed to think, of anything else whatever. That the same can be said with truth of a proportion of our modern hunting men is well known, and the question is asked to-day, as it was asked three hundred or more years ago—How comes it that over-indulgence in the chase has this odd effect upon us, whereas over-indulgence in other forms of sport but seldom makes its votaries shallow-minded to the same degree? Indeed Lord Herbert of Cherbury, eccentric as he admittedly was, made many sensible observations upon this and kindred topics; and there can be no doubt that in decrying the then increasing tendency of men and women of what were looked upon as the educated classes to squander their fortunes, he voiced the views held by a vast proportion of the thinking population of this country.