Countries;" while we in our towns should receive equal crowds of our friends the Braves Belges and the blouse-clad men of Normandy and Picardy. There is nothing impracticable in the scheme. Only let such trips be performed-and they could be so performed at the expense of a few, a very few pounds, and hundreds of thousands who now no more think of visiting Dieppe and Rouen, or Ghent and Bruges, than of starting for the antipodes, would be all agog for a week to be passed in some strange land-hitherto dimly known by the vague phrase "abroad." We are certain that the happiest results would flow from such an intermingling of France, Belgium, and England. It would form friendships-dissipate prejudices-convey instruction—bind together by the ties of acquaintanceship and pleasant recollections thousands who, ignorant of each other, and each other's lands, would be the first to cheer on quarrelling statesmen, and throw their caps up for war. Let nations know each other, and acquire the habit of inter-communication, and you will check hostile feelings in their bud. Acquaintances are not so likely to quarrel as strangers. Time was when the inhabitants of England were as much divided for all practical purposes as the inhabitants of Europe are now. What was the consequence? Civil warcounty against county-the strife of the Roses. When Scotland and England fought the battle of Bannockburn, London was nearly as distant from Edinburgh as it is now from Constantinople. Paris will soon be as near us, or nearer, than the Scotch capital, and as surely as that time will come so will an age which will regard the idea of the recurrence of a Waterloo just as wild as we should now look upon the notions of a man who waited in expectation of another Flodden.

We would then foster these peaceful tendencies by encouraging people to avail themselves of the cheap and ready means of communication opened up by steam. We warrant, the railway and steam-boat people would in the end find it to their advantage to inoculate with a love of somewhat extended travel classes who now seldom think of stirring beyond Gravesend on the one hand and Richmond on the other. Several lines have already, to some extent, carried out the practice here recommended. We would mention, especially, the Brighton Railway Company, who deserve popular gratitude for the liberality of their conduct and the cheapness of their fares.

We have already said that, as a general principle, we should

like to see Easter converted into May time for the people-by sending the denizens of the towns to the country – those of the country to the towns. We would also wish to see every possible means of instructive amusement provided by city authorities for their rural visitants. Why not have theatres opened at reduced prices?-Railways run at reduced fares-or might not the former be thrown open gratuitously, or nearly so? Precedents are not wanting. The same rule ought to apply to all manner of exhibitionsgalleries of works of art-museums, and so forth. We should not object to fairs either. We have enough of police to keep down objectionable practices. We would discourage dancing boothsdiscourage drinking booths, and put down gaming booths. Fairs, after all, generate a genial social spirit-they promote good humour and relax the tighter bonds of conventional decorum. Why not add facilities for manly exercises-why not give prizes for rowing -leaping, wrestling, and so forth? Of course, these would be kept very subordinate to higher and more elevating amusements, but lusty arms and nimble legs are, after all, not things to be sneezed at.

We have thus sketched out our idea of what might be an extended "May-day for the People." We would preserve as many of the old customs as appear conducive to the promotion of health and vigour. Cheap travelling would be one of our principal holiday means of attraction and improvement. To every class we would open up a new sphere of observation. Every class we would knit in closer bonds by promoting frequent and kindly intercourse. Every class we would seek to improve by introducing them to works of art and science, or whatever was to them an unknown field of mental pleasure and profit. We have recorded our opinion that the May-day festival of yore was wisely instituted. We have now grown beyond its childish gambols. Let us then improve without destroying. Dancing round a garlanded pole was better than continued toil: but the townsman gaining health in the country, the countryman gaining knowledge in the town-the English operative wandering through the gorgeous towns of Flanders and the picturesque sites of Normandy-all these are surely more ennobling pastimes still than jumping in sacks or chasing pigs with greased tails. ANGUS B. REACH.

A little girl stood at the door,
And with her kitten play'd;
Less wild and frolicsome than she,
That rosy prattling maid.

Sudden her cheek turns ghostly white;
Her eye with fear is filled,

And, rushing in-of-doors, she screams-
"My brother Willie 's kill'd!'
And thousand joyful voices cry,
"Huzza! Huzza! A VICTORY!

A mother sat in thoughtful ease,
A-knitting by the fire,
Plying the needle's thrifty task
With hands that never tire.

She tore her few gray hairs, and shriek'd,

My joy on earth is done!

Oh! who will lay me in my grave?

Oh, God! my son! my son! And thousand joyful voices cry, "Huzza! Huzza! A VICTORY!

A youthful wife the threshold cross'd,
With matron's treasure bless'd;

A smiling infant nestling lay

In slumber at her breast.

She spoke no word, she heaved no sigh,
The widow's tale to tell;

But like a corpse, all white and stiff,
Upon the earth-floor fell.-
And thousand joyful voices cry,
"Huzza! Huzza! A VICTORY!"

An old weak man, with head of snow,
And years threescore and ten,
Look'd in upon

his cabin-home,
And anguish seized him then.
He help'd not wife, nor helpless babe,
Matron, nor little maid,

One scalding tear, one choking sob-
He knelt him down, and pray'd.
And thousand joyful voices cry,
"Huzza! Huzza! A VICTORY!"

THE REV. R. E. B. MACLEllan.

ENGLISH SCENES AND CHARACTERS.

BY WILLIAM HOWITT.

JOCKEY DAWES.

THERE was not a man in all that part of the country who was able to compete in wit with our old friend, Dick Redfern, in his best days, but Jockey Dawes and the jockey has a fame as extensive and enduring as Dick himself. By a jockey the people of the midland counties in common parlance, do not mean, as the term more usually signifies, a rider at races, but a horse-dealer, a horse-jockey.

Jockey Dawes was a prince and a leader in his profession, and that, as all the world knows, requires a keen wit and a cunning. There is no trade in which overreaching is more highly estimated as a science. With this class of men it is a constant battle of intellects. It is always diamond cut diamond. To be a good horse-jockey a man must, to use their own term, be as deep as the north star. To bargain, to banter, to pose by a species of sharp sarcasm and vaunting eloquence, to set stratagem against stratagem, trick against trick, lie against lie, that is the daily business

of the jockey. A fair statement of the actual quality of the article, a fair demand for it, those are the very last things which are thought of. The grand triumph and glory of jockeyship is, by well-laid schemes, good selection of customers,-for a jockey sees at a glance whether he has, to use his own phrase, got the right sow by the ear,-by the practice of the most singular arts and artifices, to palm off a worthless beast for a good price, or a good beast for five times its value. Hence all the practices of patching, painting, clipping, trimming, gingering, to cover defects and impose a temporary show of spirit till the bargain is over. It is only a practical eye that knows where to look for what is real, and what is deception; but that eye will in a moment detect the cleverest deception. The good jockey will coolly lay his finger on the weak point, on the concealed defect, with a quiet smile, as if it was a thing of no great importance,―show up the cheat, and tell to a penny the real worth or worthlessness of the animal. It is the Johnny Raw and the pretender who pay the penalty for dealing in horse-flesh. It is Moses who sells his horse, and gets a gross of spectacles in shagreen cases. I have knowD many who prided themselves on their judgment in such matters, but I scarcely ever knew one man who was not a regular jockey himself, who did not severely suffer for such transactions.

The Jockey has a pride and glory in his profession proportioned to its difficulties and scope of imposition. See him riding into a town to a fair, with his long string of steeds all tied head to tailwhat a confident, self-satisfied air there is about him, as he jogs on, generally mounted on the most sorry jade in his possession, which you would not think worth a sovereign, but which, if you ventured such a sentiment, he would immediately crack off as a most extraordinary creature. Nay, he will point out points in the scarecrow as actual points of breed and beauty; and telling you, if you be a judge, you must see that at once, will make you quite ashamed of your ignorance. And then, as to virtues, and special qualities why, there never was such a horse! How many miles has he actually ridden that tit in one day without drawing bit? How many miles an hour does he trot? What weight has it carried or drawn? and what have said such and such great men of it? Bless us! why it is a fact, Bellerophon was a dog-tit to that horse! And with that he gives the jade a coaxing slap on the chest, with a-"What, they'd run thee down, old Bob, eh? They'd make us believe that thou 'rt fit for nothing but the dog.