only people who ever mount a horse, and even they, so far as my observation goes, only in the hunting field. In the outskirts of London, where there are such numbers of prosperous people able to amuse themselves as they please on Saturday afternoons, one sees no doubt a sprinkling of horsemen, but this has little or no significance; nor again has such riding as still goes on in the Row, whether as part of the season's programme or the more serious performance of the liver brigade. But in the country, where the saddle horse was formerly the appanage of every man and most women who could keep one, and the pony of every youngster of moderate situation in life, there is next to nothing to be seen of either now. I have travelled many thousands of miles in various parts of the island in the last few years, and to say that one never meets a man or woman above the farming class, and uncommonly few of the latter, except in mountain countries, on a horse, is so nearly the literal truth that the statement is sufficiently accurate for every practical purpose. How different it was thirty years ago! Riding was looked upon as a regular form of recreation, and still to some extent as a means of getting about for social or business purposes. Of course the highway was avoided when practical, in purely pleasure riding, but it was often unavoidable, while the grassy strips by the roadside common to many counties made soft going. In the shires they are still deeply furrowed by horses' hoofs, but mainly those of horses exercised by grooms.

Where are now the family parties of old days: proud parents or equally proud old coachmen with boys and girls on ponies straining at leading reins, or just emancipated from their thraldom? Where is the country doctor in top hat of felt and strapped cord trousers pounding along in the dust?

Where are the old gentlemen on their cobs-squires, land agents, substantial attorneys, prosperous farmers? Gone altogether, so far as I can see or hear. Nor was it only among the wealthy or distinctly sporting households in those days that riding was part of an education. Everybody in the country or in the country towns strained a point to keep saddle horses or ponies. It was felt that if a boy or girl could not ride in an ordinary way it would be detrimental to them throughout life, and it would have been as things then were. I do not imagine that outside a very small class there is any such feeling whatever now, and, indeed, there is little cause for it. And it would be interesting to know the proportion of boys who can ride at any public school (Eton perhaps excepted), and compare it with the state of things twenty or thirty years ago. In my school days I am quite sure that the great majority were more or less accustomed to the saddle, and I am equally sure that those who were not would have had some touch of shamefacedness in admitting it. I should not imagine that even the average "outdoor" youth's dignity would nowadays be in the least bit upset by any such admission. "Now, Jones, you are thinking of that pony," was quite a stock form of mild rebuke to the inattentive fourth-form boy in my youth, and was significant no doubt of the ordinary boy's holiday delights. I am quite sure that such a pleasantry nowadays would be hopelessly irrelevant unless directed with special knowledge. The bicycle suggests itself at once as the main cause of all this, though the inference would be hardly accurate, since riding for use or pleasure had been on the wane long before the 'nineties, and there can be little doubt, I think, but that the minor revolution wrought in country life by lawn tennis at the close of the 'seventies had some

thing to do with it. For this was the first really popular game among the majority of young or active middle-aged people of both sexes ever introduced, and as a means of stimulating social intercourse was quite unique, and, above all, of promoting those small, informal, and friendly gatherings that nearly every one prefers to the more pretentious garden fêtes of Arcady.

But lawn tennis chiefly "caught on" because it appealed to the vigorous and the athletic man, and particularly to the indifferent or lukewarm cricketer, who found in it more sustained enjoyment and achieved greater success than on the then rough wickets of country grounds. Tennis, indeed, gave the first blow to genuine country cricket, now dead or dying in most countries. Where the men went the girls naturally went too, and an active outdoor game in which for the first time they could unite with men on sufficiently level terms to share their keen feeling of competition and excitement had unprecedented attractions. In short, men and women met with the main object of playing a stimulating active game. Country gatherings ceased to be a bore to the majority, and developed prodigiously on wider lines than hitherto. In the meantime those ungregarious forms of amusement devoid of competition lost zest (for the old croquet had virtually gone out before this time), and among them that of "equestrian exercise." Outside hunting families the saddle horse or pony ceased to be worth keeping, while the demand on the harness horse must have steadily increased till cycles came and changed the whole thing. I have already departed sufficiently from the title of this paper to venture more than an allusion to the increase of stimulating outdoor pastimes within the last two decades: the resuscitation of croquet in a vastly improved and fascinating form; of golf, a little revolution

in itself and a boon inestimable to men; of hockey, invaluable in winter to suburban and country maidens. And all these distractions, moreover, have been brought to everybody's door by the cycle and the motor, pastimes in themselves to thousands.

And while discussing the manner in which such changes have affected those classes of society from which readers of the Cornhill are mainly drawn, one must not forget that every class but the very poorest has been equally benefited, and 8 new life opened to thousands who had hitherto never stirred from home or shop.

Not the least of the blessings wrought by the cycle is the better knowledge it has given to Britons of the most beautiful country upon earth -their own. One may even venture to hope that a growing fraction are finding fresh pleasures not merely in its physical beauties but in the associations and memories that are enshrined among them. The average Briton gains nothing substantial by foreign travel. He neither mixes with the natives nor speaks their language, but very often abuses both, and nearly always grumbles at the food. The average Briton, too, knows even yet extremely little of his own country. Vast districts of the British islands, infinitely more beautiful than much he wanders far to see, lie virtually fallow and unknown. To put the matter on a lower plane-I confess to some irritation at the vast sums of money one sees being carried out of the country every summer by travellers who would really benefit themselves almost as much as their country by remaining in the latter and making its acquaintance. And while speaking of foreign travel the Americans are without doubt going to be a considerable factor on British roads. They have not figured conspicuously as wheelmen among us, partly because cycling has never been

so general in the States, both on account of highway difficulties and social distribution, and partly because of the baggage problem incidental to cycling tours. Indeed, fashionable America has of late taken violently to "equestrian exercise" as a rival to golf in its summer holidays. But now as motorists it threatens to loom large on British highways, and I hear rumors of a great invasion. Such form of progress will especially appeal to American taste, being quick, convenient, and, above all, through scenes which, as a rule, they are better able and more eager to appreciate than the average Englishman himself. As a distributor of money along British highways I venture to think the American motorist is going to be a substantial addition to rural economy. It will be a long time before the roads in America will be comparable with those of Western Europe. Speaking broadly those of the North are fair for driving, but mostly rough for the cycle or motor. South of the Potomac they are still intolerable even for driving almost everywhere, and the saddle horse retains his eighteenth-century position. Moreover, it is in the least attractive parts of the United States that the roads are likely to be first improved for motoring purposes. In the more picturesque States I cannot imagine a motor of any kind within measurable time, and the attempts of cyclists during the brief craze for the wheel in America to grapple with Virginia roads were a frequent source of humorous illustration in the comic papers. America in this particular is far behind most of the world.

The Canadians, too, enjoyed a cyeling boom a few years ago, but, save The Cornhill Magazine.

for occasional working men in the cities, few now use it. The country highways of the older provinces, though sufficiently good for wheeled traffic, are not tempting to the cyclist, and if they were, there are not the sametemptations to utilize them as in this country for reasons here irrelevant. Another cause, too, which will drive the American motorist to seek alien pastures is the appalling dust that his machine must raise on an American summer road.

Upon the whole the highways of England are in a fair way to regain much more than their ancient prosperity, if by means less picturesque to the fastidious eye. Many of them will no doubt. be put to it to carry their traffic. It is of a truth a strange thing that the coach road should not only spring into life once more but should actually threaten some measure of revenge on its old and ruthless enemy. A glance at the past would seem, as I have already remarked, to make prophetic utterances fatuous. But the motor-car in the nature of things can never be serious rival to the cycle. For strenuous Britons, after all, will have exercise, and we now know that for very many people there is none better or more exhilarating. But the motorbicycle may some day develop into a contrivance extremely formidable to the popularity of the ordinary pedalling machine, which has really done such great work both for the country and the town. Since this paper went to press I have covered several hundred miles in the counties of Hereford, Monmouth, and Brecon, and have encountered at least twenty motor-bicycles for every motor-car.

a

A. G. Bradley.

The decision of the London County Council to provide a site for "an adequate Shakespeare Memorial", is one of those decisions arrived at by a public body which it is impossible to regard without approval, but which compel misgivings. Now that a suitable site is assured, what is proposed is to collect funds and to organize a great international tribute to Shakespeare's memory, and for that purpose a Provisional Committee has been formed, with certain definite objects. It may be as well to state these in full. They are,-First, the memorial to be erected on some prominent site in London; the funds collected to be, in the first instance, devoted to the erection of some such monument in London as the Scott Memorial or the Albert Memorial; any sum over that required for the monument to be used for some object or objects tending to promote the study or appreciation of Shakespeare, to be determined by a General Memorial Committee. Second, the General Committee to consist of leading men and women belonging to all parts of the Empire, representatives of the American people, and distinguished foreigners. Third, a Shakespeare commemoration to be held in all parts of the world during "the Shakespeare week," 1905 (April 23rd to May 1st), so that a concentrated effort may be made in connection with the commemoration to collect the funds necessary for the memorial.

The last two provisions occasion no difficulty; but that cannot be said of the first, as to which obviously there will be the widest possible differences of opinion, even among those who do not hold that Shakespeare has built himself the only necessary monument in his works. The point is, of course, that the Provisional Committee have

set

before

before themselves first, everything else, the erection of "some such monument as the Albert Memorial," that many people dislike the Albert Memorial, and that many more would rather that, if a monument is to be erected to Shakespeare's memory, it should not take the form of a decorative column or statuary. We are certainly among the latter number ourselves, and think, not only that we are unlikely to get what is wanted if a column or statue is decided upon, but that, even if we were, it would be better to begin by deciding in the first instance for something else. There is, no doubt, a great deal to be said in favor of columns or statues as a means of perpetuating the memories of dead men-nobody who has watched the enthusiasm with which wreaths are sent every year to Trafalgar Square could deny that-and even as to the muchcriticised Albert Memorial itself, it is no more than the truth that it has its decorative aspects, though they may not exactly fit their surroundings, and though, in any case, such a monument must be left to be mellowed and graced by the mildew and lichen of time. [How many persons there must be who every year purchase old furniture and old decorative work of all kinds, and who sometimes admire such work simply because it is old, yet who do not reflect that some day the Albert Memorial will be at least interesting simply because it will be old.] were plenty of people, probably, when King's College Chapel was first built, who thought it something garish and wrong. Not, of course, that the Chapel and the Memorial can be bracketed together; but still, any work of the nature of the Albert Memorial, which is to depend for its artistic value partly

There

so general in the States, both on account of highway difficulties and social distribution, and partly because of the baggage problem incidental to cycling tours. Indeed, fashionable America has of late taken violently to "equestrian exercise" as a rival to golf in its summer holidays. But now as motorists it threatens to loom large on British highways, and I hear rumors of a great invasion. Such form of progress will especially appeal to American taste, being quick, convenient, and, above all, through scenes which, as a rule, they are better able and more eager to appreciate than the average Englishman himself. As a distributor of money along British highways I venture to think the American motorist is going to be a substantial addition to rural economy. It will be a long time before the roads in America will be comparable with those of Western Europe. Speaking broadly those of the North are fair for driving, but mostly rough for the cycle or motor. South of the Potomac they are still intolerable even for driving almost everywhere, and the saddle horse retains his eighteenth-century position. Moreover, it is in the least attractive parts of the United States that the roads are likely to be first improved for motoring purposes. In the more picturesque States I cannot imagine a motor of any kind within measurable time, and the attempts of cyclists during the brief craze for the wheel in America to grapple with Virginia roads were a frequent source of humorous illustration in the comic papers. America in this particular is far behind most of the world.

The Canadians, too, enjoyed a cyeling boom a few years ago, but, save The Cornhill Magazine.

for occasional working men in the cities, few now use it. The country highways of the older provinces, though sufficiently good for wheeled traffic, are not tempting to the cyclist, and if they were, there are not the same temptations to utilize them as in this country for reasons here irrelevant. Another cause, too, which will drive the American motorist to seek alien pastures is the appalling dust that his machine must raise on an American summer road.

Upon the whole the highways of England are in a fair way to regain much more than their ancient prosperity, if by means less picturesque to the fastidious eye. Many of them will no doubt be put to it to carry their traffic. It is of a truth a strange thing that the coach road should not only spring into life once more but should actually threaten some measure of revenge on its old and ruthless enemy. A glance at the past would seem, as I have already remarked, to make prophetic utterances fatuous. But the motor-car in the nature of things can never be

a

serious rival to the cycle. For strenuous Britons, after all, will have exercise, and we now know that for very many people there is none better or more exhilarating. But the motorbicycle may some day develop into a contrivance extremely formidable to the popularity of the ordinary pedalling machine, which has really done such great work both for the country and the town. Since this paper went to press I have covered several hundred miles in the counties of Hereford, Monmouth, and Brecon, and have encountered at least twenty motor-bicycles for every motor-car.

A. G. Bradley.