Perhaps one ought not to think of comparing the sport of fox-hunting, with its extraordinary variety of incident and surroundings, the study of a lifetime, to the game of cricket.  At the same time, for actual all-round enjoyment, and for economy, the game holds its own against all amusements.

Bromley-Davenport has said that given a good country and a good fox, and a burning scent, the man on a good horse with a good start, for twenty or thirty minutes absorbs as much happiness into his mental and physical organisation as human nature is capable of containing at one time.  This is very true.  But how seldom the five necessary conditions are forthcoming simultaneously the keen hunting man has learnt from bitter experience.  You will be lucky if the real good thing comes off once for every ten days you hunt.  In cricket a man is dependent on his own quickness of hand and eye; in hunting there is that vital contingency of the well-filled purse. “’Tis money that makes the mare to go.”

Then what a grand school is cricket for some of the most useful lessons of life!  Its extraordinary fluctuations are bound to teach us sooner or later

    “Rebus angustis animosus atque
     Fortis appare.”

The rebus angustis are often painfully impressed on the memory by a long sequence of “duck’s eggs”; and how difficult is the animosus atque fortis appare when we return to the pavilion with a “pair of spectacles” to our credit!

Then, again, cricketers are taught to preserve a mind

     “Ab insolenti temperatam
      Laetitia.”

We must not permit the laetitia insolenti to creep in when we have made a big score.  How often do we see young cricketers over-elated under these circumstances, and suffering afterwards from temporary over-confidence and consequent carelessness!

But we must have no more Horace, lest our readers exclaim, with Jack Cade, “Away with him! away with him! he speaks Latin!”

Hope, energy, perseverance, and courage,—­all these qualities are learnt in our grand English game.  There is always hope for the struggling cricketer.  In no other pursuit are energy and perseverance so absolutely sure of bearing fruit, if we only stick to it long enough.

The fact is that cricket, like many other things, is but the image and prototype of life in general.  And the same qualities that, earnestly cultivated in spite of repeated failure and disappointment, make good cricketers lead ultimately to success in all the walks of life.  In spite of the improvement in grounds, cricket is still an excellent school for teaching physical courage.  Many grounds are somewhat rough and bumpy to field on, beautifully smooth though they look from the pavilion.  We have only to stand “mid-off” or “point” on a cold day at the beginning of May whilst a hard-hitting batsman, well set on a true wicket, is driving or cutting ball after ball against our hands and shins, to realise what a capital school for courage the game is!