In these days you cannot get an eleven who will make a good stand in a match without some professional training. Many places are fortunate enough to have an old professional or two amongst its inmates, men who have given up grand public matches, but who are worth their weight in gold as practice bowlers, trainers, and members of the village eleven. Men of this class, who will play in a match for ten shillings or will come in the evening after work for a crown or so, and who are always on the spot, are the best aids towards keeping together a good set of young players and forming an eleven. They know the young players and take a pride in them, and will find out their failings and good points; and nothing cheers a captain more than an invitation from a local professional to come and see Bill Smith or Tom Brown bat. When such an invitation is given, you may be sure that the professional has found a recruit who can play a length ball with a straight bat and confidence, and who can punish a loose ball. You will find numberless cricketers who can get runs--if they once get set; but, like precious stones, many get spoilt in the setting. What you want is batsmen who, in wet or fine weather, on rough or smooth ground, will go in with nerve to have a good try. If you want a few runs to-day from A, and he breaks down through that cricket malady called ‘funk,’ it is no consolation to hear from his _claqueur_ B that ‘A got seventy, not out, last week.’ You must try and raise the standard of a village eleven by letting them play when you have the chance against teams who are stronger than themselves. A licking is good medicine for them sometimes; and if, on the other hand, they win by the chances of the game, a victory of this kind ‘sets their tails up.’ The worst thing for them is playing against weak teams, making a tremendous score, and knocking their opponents’ wickets over for a few runs. It is astonishing how a captain, by working steadily on, can ‘educate his party,’ as the late Lord Beaconsfield said; and if by quiet persuasion he can influence some of the rougher element to abandon their horse-play and ‘flowery’ language, and to assist in keeping good order--at the same time warning them that ladies and gentlemen are kept away from the green for fear of their ears being contaminated by rough language--he will find that visitors who come prepared for a noisy rude crowd will be surprised to find perfect order; and if some one trangresses the bounds of good manners, he will hear a cry of ‘Better language there!’ This kind of thing _can_ be and _has_ been done; and the result was that, in a place where the possibility of such a thing as a ladies’ tent on the green was laughed at, not only was the ladies’ tent a great success, but subscriptions flowed in in a wonderful manner. One dear old lady--an Exeter Hall-er who took omnibuses full of people to hear Sankey and Moody--sent ‘two guineas for the green, which is now, I believe, a place of innocent