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of the All England team, born in 1828. A ‘fast and ripping' left-handed round-arm bowler, in or about 1857 his style came under severe criticism in “Bell's Life,” but he survived the attack. Mr. Haygarth calls him “one of the most amiable, as well as one of the staunchest, of cricketers in the world.” To the name of Alfred the poet himself has put the following footnote: ‘Alfred is Alfred the Great, Alfred Mynn, W. G. of his day; six foot two, shoulder of mutton fist, foot on which he leaned made a grave in soft turf, brilliant both as bat and fast bowler.” I need only add that Alfred Mynn was born at Goudhurst in 1807, and died at Thurnham, also in Kent, in 1861, mourned by all Englishmen. The younger Hornby—A. H.-is this year (1908) captain of Lancashire. May he dobravely Silver Billy was William Beldham, of the Hambledon Club, over whose genius Nyren becomes lyrical. He lived to a very great age and died in 1860. Fuller Pilch, a Norfolk man by birth, was the best bat in England between 1820 and 1850. He played for Kent in the thirties and forties, and died at Canterbury in 1870,Land of Hops, you hold in trust Very sacred human dust 1

There were two Smalls, both Hambledon men celebrated by Nyren. Briggs was of course Johnny Briggs, of Thompson's own county, the left-handed bowler and cover-point whose end was a tragedy, for he lost his reason through a sunstroke and died in an asylum. George Ulyett is dead too—the great and genial Yorkshireman of the seventies. The other names need no gloss. Those are the verses. Thompson wrote also a little prose on the game, including a lengthy criticism of ‘The Jubilee Book of Cricket.’ This review, printed in ‘The Academy, for September 4, 1897, is interesting not only on the literary side but for its theoretical acumen too. It contains a very minute examination of the differences between the pitched-up balls of the under-arm and the overarm bowler, and there are some discerning remarks upon back and forward play. But more to our purpose as illustrating Thompson's cricket prose is the passage in praise of Vernon Royle, another Lancashire man, at cover-point:—

Fine fielding is very largely the work of a captain who is himself a fine fielder, and knows its vast importance in winning matches. Many a match has been won rather in the field than at the wicket. And, if only a boy will set himself really to study its niceties, it is a most fascinating branch of cricket. Prince Ranjitsinhji remarks on the splendid opportunities of cover-point, and cites the Rev. Vernon

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Royle as the cover-point to whom all cricketers give the palm during the last thirty years. ‘From what one hears,’ he says, “he must have been a magnificent fielder.” He was. And I notice the fact, because Vernon Royle may be regarded as a concrete example of the typical fielder, and the typical fielder's value. He was a pretty and stylish bat; but it was for his wonderful fielding that he was played. A ball for which hardly another cover-point would think of trying, he flashed upon, and with a single action stopped it and returned it to the wicket. So placed that only a single stump was visible to him, he would throw that down with unfailing accuracy, and without the slightest pause for aim. One of the members of the Australian team in Royle's era, playing against Lancashire, shaped to start for a hit wide of cover-point. ‘No, no l’ cried his partner; ‘the policeman is there !” There were no short runs anywhere in the neighbourhood of Royle. He simply terrorised the batsmen; nor was there any necessity for an extra cover —now so constantly employed. In addition to his sureness and swiftness, his style was a miracle of grace. Slender and symmetrical, he moved with the lightness of a young roe, the flexuous elegance of a leopard—it was a sight for an artist or a poet to see him field. Briggs, at his best, fell not far short in efficiency; but there was no comparison between the two in style and elegance. To be a fielder like Vernon Royle is as much worth any youth's endeavours as to be a batsman like Ranjitsinhji, or a bowler like Richardson.

That the author of ‘The Hound of Heaven’ and “The Anthem of Earth' should be also the most ingenious and suggestive reviewer of Prince Ranjitsinhji’s work is a curious circumstance worthy of note by any Isaac Disraeli of the future. E. W. LUCAS.

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For Englishmen and Frenchmen the outstanding feature of the Tercentenary Celebrations at Quebec will be the dedication of the battlefields of the Plains of Abraham and Ste. Foye as a National Park for the people of Canada. The narrow tableland which lies behind Quebec, between the mighty St. Lawrence and the winding St. Charles, holds intense interest for the two races who have a common heritage in the great Dominion. It was the scene of the two final battles between the French and English in Canada when the fate of half a continent was decided ; its soil was watered by the blood of commanders whose careers, and whose deaths in almost the same hour, possess a romantic and absorbing interest for both races. Each side won victory on its fields, and each can look back with pride to the history of these great events. To these compelling circumstances is to be added the important factor that for a century and a half the descendants of the conquerors and the conquered in the two battles have lived together in loyalty and amity under the same flag. Since the far-off days when Wolfe in Canada and Clive in India were laying the foundations of the British Empire in the worldwide wars of the eighteenth century, Frenchmen and Englishmen have contested many a hard-fought field, and they have also shed their blood together in a common cause. Nowhere has this most potent cement of national friendship been poured out with happier results than amid the forests and snows of Canada. Almost while the echoes of the final clash of arms on the Plains of Abraham were still ringing in men's ears the loyalty of England's FrenchCanadian subjects was put to the test in the struggle which detached the southern half of the North American continent from the British flag. They nobly stood the trial. Neither specious pleadings on behalf of republicanism nor the sterner argument of shotted guns could win them from their newly pledged allegiance. The part which the bishops and clergy of the Catholic Church in Canada played in that time of stress and danger is scarcely realised by the average Englishman to-day, who is not fully acquainted with the history of Canada during the American war of rebellion. With wise and far-seeing judgment the leaders of the Catholic French-Canadians took their stand firmly and uncompromisingly on the side of England. Acting on the minds of a people still largely subject to feudal influence and filled with a spirit of devotion and submission to their ancient faith, the French bishops and priests held their flocks loyal and did much to retain the wide province that is now the Dominion of Canada for the British Crown. The reward for these services was full and ample. The very remarkable position of power and authority which the Catholic Church occupies in the Province of Quebec to-day is in a large measure the direct outcome of the attitude taken up by the bishops and priests during the American war. In the war of 1812 between Great Britain and the new Republic the French-Canadians were as staunch and loyal as their fellowsubjects of Ontario and the Maritime Provinces, the heroic loyalists of the New England colonies who had given up home and all that made life dear rather than be false to allegiance or principles. Some of the most brilliant victories in the campaigns of 1812–3–4 were won with the aid of the French volunteers, and at Chateauguay on October 26, 1813, four hundred French-Canadian Militia, commanded by Colonel de Salaberry, defeated three thousand Americans under General Hampton. In later years, during the Fenian Raid of 1867, in the North-West Rebellion, and lastly during the Boer war, Canadians, French and British, fought side by side, and cemented anew their racial friendship and their unswerving loyalty to the Empire. It happens, then, that nowhere within the wide bounds of the British Empire to-day is there any spot so ripe and fitting for a scene such as that which will take place outside the walls of Quebec in this July, when with stately ceremony, and honoured by the presence of the heir to the British throne, the Plains of Abraham will be dedicated to the memory of the gallant soldiers of England and France who won, and lost, and died on that historic upland. The battle of the Plains of Abraham is unique in the world’s history. It is unique in that Wolfe, the English commander, died in the moment of victory, and that his noble adversary, Montcalm, who commanded the French, breathed his last almost in the same hour, finding sad consolation for the sorrows of the hour in the thought that he would not live to see the surrender of his beloved Quebec. Its issue decided the fate of a continent of unbounded richness and resources; though at the time men had scarce begun to dream that ‘ the few arpents of snow in Canada,’ as a French statesman described his country's lost dominions, held a tithe of the wealth that time has since revealed. The battle of the Plains of Abraham, therefore, possesses features of intense interest for every student of history, and above all for the members of the two slowly mingling races who now occupy as their heritage the lands for which their fathers fought and died. The conflict was the inevitable result of conditions which dominated and dictated the policy that France and England in the seventeenth century were compelled to pursue. On the Continent of Europe, on the burning plains of India, and amid the swamps and fastnesses of North American forests the two nations had long been engaged in a struggle for mastery. We are not here concerned with the incidents of the age-long contest in other parts of the world. The warfare between the English colonists in New England and the French settlers of New France, as Canada was generally termed at the time, had gone on intermittently for generations; sometimes helped and encouraged by the Mother countries, often waged more or less independently. Local victories or defeats had little effect on the general progress of the struggle. American territory was given and taken by treaty-making statesmen at home who frequently had but the faintest notion of the boundaries with which they were dealing. Even in later days we have the famous instance of a British Minister who was thrown into a ferment of excitement by his unexpected discovery that Cape Breton was an island 1 But apart from any question as to their final outcome the records of British and French achievements in North America are equally glorious for both. Fighting now with each other, now with the fierce and bloodthirsty savages of the forest, the long story is always one of progress and improvement in the face of appalling difficulties. Victory rested sometimes with one, sometimes with the other. In the end the incredible peculation and rascality of Bigot, the last Intendant of New France, with his misappropriation of funds and the falsification of accounts, had, perhaps, as much, or more, to do with the final defeat of France as the qualities of the soldiers on the battlefield. Montcalm himself, before his last battle under the walls of Quebec, had met the British on four hard-fought fields

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