The combination of assaults on lines like these, and the anxieties generated in maternal minds, led the university authorities to discourage the spirit of rivalry which, it was feared, the inter-university contests might develop to excess. Cambridge was staggered, in 1867, by an official prohibition against the Oxford and Cambridge sports taking place within the precincts of the university. No other step could so certainly have produced the very results which it was aimed to prevent. Driven from Cambridge, where the contests might long have continued comparatively subordinate, under the immediate guardianship of the official eye, they were forced into the extended, and by no means preferable, area of the London world, of which they have since formed an important annual fixture.

Athletism rose triumphant over these as over the many other difficulties and dangers which surrounded its early path. The varying “uses” of distant and conflicting schools were reconciled, the barnacles of corruption cleared off, and the authority firmly established of that great central governing body the Amateur Athletic Association.

Cambridge, which by its early example did so much to popularize athletics, has had a long succession of faithful, loyal and patriotic sons to carry her colors through many a hard-won fight and many a stubborn fray. Who that has seen her career through the past quarter of a century cannot recall, with all the glow of rekindled satisfaction, her champions, from the day, in 1865, when R. E. Webster (now the learned attorney-general) twice lowered Oxford’s colors by defeating the Earl of Jersey for the mile in 4m. 441⁄4s. (on a slow, wet ground) and for the two miles in 10m. 381⁄2s. down to W. C. Kendall’s exciting “odd event” jump this spring? Between these dates what memories crowd the scene! Pitman and Ridley, Churchill and R. H. Macaulay (now head-master of Rugby), who covered the quarter of a mile in 1881 in 50 1-5s.; I. L. Stirling, “three stride Stirling,” of 1870, over his 120 yards and 10 flights; A. B. Loder, who, in 1876, plucked the honors from Upcher, the very classic of the hurdlers, in 16s.; S. Palmer, lithe as a leopard, who, in 1883, carried the “light blue” through in the same time; phenomenal E. J. Davies, short and spare of build, who, with his second thrust in midair, covered 22 ft. 10 in. in the broad jump; F. B. Roberts, who, in 1886, covered 21 ft. 9 in., and W. C. Kendall’s winning jump of 1888; W. W. Hough, lean and light of foot, who put the three miles behind him in 15m. 1 1-5s.; the mighty hammer throws of G. H. Hales, in 1876, 138 ft. 3 in. and E. O’F. Kelly putting the weight—these and hundreds more flit across the mind.

And who that has seen thirty generations—for each year brings its new generation—of under-graduates “strip” can have failed to recognize a distinct, general improvement in the average physique, in build, in carriage, and even in the quality and condition of the flesh. It is undoubted and palpable even to the casual eye, and it has, singularly enough, within the past few months, received confirmation from an authority anything but casual. Dr. Sargent, of Harvard, in his “Physical Proportions of the Typical Man,” has proved with mathematical accuracy and from reliable and exhaustive measurements, that “man cultivated both in mind and body along the lines of least resistance shows that the tendency of the race is to attain the perfect type, the order of growth is regular towards it.” Nor is it necessary at this day to elaborate the point that this physical advance is not only no injury to, not only compatible with, but a promoter of moral and spiritual benefits, as well as a direct aid to withstanding the wear and tear of modern business. The Universities’ missions to South Africa and China, abroad, Toynbee Hall, the White Cross Society, and other like efforts at home, are a standing testimony on the one hand, while on the other the presence “thick as autumn leaves in Vallombrosa” of old-time champions in the high offices of state and in every walk of science, art, enterprise and commercial life, is a ready and complete answer.

An author, whose modesty conceals his name, but whose good sense justifies the quotation, has well summed up the situation. “Athletism may not have crowned all its votaries with the laurels of social heroism, but it has disseminated a thoroughly healthy and energizing taste among our young men. It has taken them away from the smoking and the billiard rooms at unreasonable hours and stamped out that physical and moral malady, which was once powerfully described by the author of ‘David Copperfield’ as the ‘dry-rot in men.’”

In her physical training of the youth of the nation, those “trustees for posterity,” may its motto long express the universal verdict “Floreat Cantabrigia.”

COMPARATIVE TABLE OF AMATEURS’ RECORDS.

Oxford and
Cambridge
Inter-
university,
1864.
 Oxford and
Cambridge
Inter-
university,
1888.
 London
Athletic
Club,
1886.
 New York
Athletic
Champions’
Times.
 Harvard
Champions’
Times.
 Canbridge
Champions’
Times.
100 Yards Flat 10½s. 10 4-5s. 10s. 10s. 10s. 10s.
120 Yards, and 10 flights of hurdles 17½s. 17 1-5s. 16s. 16 1-5s. — 16s.
Quarter Mile Flat 53s. 51 2-5s. 49 4-5s. 47¾s. — 50 1-5s.
Half Mile 1m. 59s. 2m. 1m. 46 2-5s.
One Mile 4m. 56s. 4m. 29 2-5s. 4m. 25 2-5. 4m. 30s. 4m. 36 4-5s. 4m. 25 3-5s.
Two Miles 9m. 38s. 10m. 7s.
Three Miles 15m 28 1-5s. 14m. 50 3-5s. 15m 1 1-5s.
High Jump  5 ft. 5 in.  5 ft. 10¼ in.  5 ft. 11 in.  5 ft. 10½ in.
Broad Jump 18 ft. 0 in. 20 ft. 10¾ in. 21 ft. 7½ in. 22 ft. 10¾ in.
Putting the
Weight 		37 ft. 44 ft. 9½ in. 39 ft. 1 in.
Throwing the
Hammer 		93 ft. 10 in. 119 ft. 0 in. 138 ft. 3 in.