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."