could rear his maypole, play at quarter-staff,
wrestle, run, or disport himself as he would.
Nearly every village had its free playgrounds,
where the old people sat, and the young made
love, and where the youth who now poach or
drink, passed happy hours at athletic games, that
rendered them not only stronger, but more intelligent.
Now, there is no opportunity for our
villagers to meet together, to strengthen mutual
friendship and remove foolish prejudices.

But lest I should be thought to be repainting
a mere conventional picture from Goldsmith's
Deserted Village, let me go on to prove that
public amusements were common among the
Elizabethan villagers.

That good old man, Roger Ascham, the tutor
of Lady Jane Grey, tells us that village sports
were much in practice in his time, to banish
idleness and to harden the body for war. It is
true that the increase of enclosures was already
bringing archery gradually into desuetude, but
it still continued a constant recreation amongst
the poor. The growing use of the musket was
also entrenching on the credit of the bow as a
weapon, but it was still much used even in war.
Henry the Eighth had passed a law requiring
villagers to devote certain stated days to the use
of the bow. The bow was cheap for the poor
man, and he could make his own bow and his
own arrows. These archery meetings were both
useful and interesting. There, the wisest men
of the village exercised a wholesome influence,
both by example and by word of mouth. There,
poor men sharpened their wits by competition,
and learnt to cultivate their powers of observation.
No man could have left the ground without
being in some degree more fitted to take his
part as a useful and intelligent workman. To
a man with few subjects for thought, it was no
bad mental exercise to have to consider whether
his bow should be of Brazil-wood, elm, hazel, or
ash; whether his string should be of hemp, silk,
or flax; whether he would feather his arrows from
the goose or the gander, the gosling or the
fen-born bird; whether his arrows should have
blunt, sharp, or silver-spoon heads. These meetings
must have often brought landlord and men
together, and have taught each his own position
and his several duties. But countrymen scarcely
ever meet now, except at the beer-shop, or
coming home from work.

And now let us take a chronological leap to
the Queen Anne times, of which the Spectator
gives us so vivid a picture. And what do we
lind there? Social village gatherings, perhaps
a little coarser than those just described, but
still hearty, merry, and unfettered. There was
wrestling on the green, boisterous cudgel play,
running in sacks, and grinning through horse-
collars;—not the most refined fun, I dare say,
but still good-hearted and jovial, and a thousand
times better than tavern-drinking, low gambling,
and thievish poaching: which only make wife and
children ragged and miserable, and eventually
drive the man into jail and the family into the
workhouse.

But the remedy? The remedy is to a certain
degree simple. Where there is no common,
let a village have its free field, bought by
subscription, and bought inalienably. In many
large places, the poor and middle classes would
soon collect money enough for such purposes
by subscriptions. In other places, landlords
with thirty and forty thousand a year would
give the people a field, where cricket, single-
stick, and football, could go on all the year
round. Richer places might creep on until
they built zinc sheds for tennis or bowls; and
so the thing would progress.

For my own part, I could heartily wish to see
the rifle movement progress among the
agricultural poor; I should like to see whole
regiments of mechanics in plain blouses and
belts. But there are serious objections to this.
In the first place, the average labourer of
England is far too poor to be able to buy a five-
pound rifle; and, in the second place, the great
landed proprietor would too often do all he
could to stop such a movement: believing that
every agricultural rifleman must necessarily turn
rebel-poacher and trespass on his preserves. I
venture to contend, on behalf of Pinchback, that
this is a mischievous delusion, and that the more
he is trusted and encouraged, the less he will
poach. Further, the use of the rifle would
soon transform the English labourer into a far
brighter fellow. He would grow keen,
farsighted, observant, light of foot, obedient, quick,
and smart.

I fear that some of the clergy, with all good
intentions, have done much harm in setting their
faces against country fairs and social meetings.
They have abolished them, when they ought
only to have reformed them. Indifferent
themselves to athletic pursuits, they have shut their
eyes to the fact that such sports invigorate,
harden, and develop the country labourer.

MR. CHARLES DICKENS'S NEW READINGS.
On Thursday, 27th instant, at St. James's Hall, Piccadilly,
at 8 o'clock precisely,
Mr. CHARLES DICKENS will read
DAVID COPPERFIELD
(In Six Chapters),
AND
MR. BOB SAWYER'S PARTY,
FROM PICKWICK.
MR. DICKENS WILL ALSO READ ON THURSDAY,
3RD APRIL.

THE SIXTH VOLUME,
Price 5s. 6d., is now ready.

A STRANGE STORY,
BY THE AUTHOR OF " RIESZI," "MY NOVEL," &C.,
Is now published, in two volumes, price 24s.
SAMPSON LOW, SON, AND CO., LUDGATE-HILL.