game for the few, and as the rowing
authorities, by the time the summer term begins, had selected their
chosen followers and left the rest of the world free, there was far
more walking, and consequently more knowledge of the country round
the city, than is the rule now. The long rambles which play so
prominent a part in Oxford biographies, such as Stanley's /Life of
Arnold/, were still the fashion, while of those who could afford to
ride, certainly many more availed themselves of the privilege than do
now.

So far as games themselves were concerned, their cost was far less.
College matches away from Oxford were almost unknown; college
grounds, which were still quite a new thing in the middle of last
century, were nearly all concentrated on Cowley Marsh, and the
somewhat heavy contribution from all undergraduates, now generally
collected by the college authorities in "battels" and become semi-
official, was not dreamed of. Those who played paid, and the rest of
the college got off easily. And games were much more games than they
are now, and less of institutions; the "professional amateur," who
comes up with a public school reputation to get his "blue," was
almost unknown, and certainly, so far as rowing was concerned, any
powerful man with broad shoulders and a sound heart was a likely
candidate for the University Boat. The days were not dreamed of when
the fortunes of Oxford and Cambridge on the river depended largely on
the choice of a University by members of the Eton Eight.

But there is of course another side to the development of Oxford
athletics. Perhaps the most important point is that play is the
greatest social leveller. It is easy to attend the same lectures as a
man, and even to sit at the same table with him in hall, and not to
know him well, because his clothes and his accent are not quite
correct. But in these days when so many games are played, and when
competition is so keen, any man who can do anything gets his chance;
and many are the instances every year of men who would never have
made friends in their colleges outside a small circle, had not their
quickness as half-backs, or their ability as slow bowlers, brought
their contemporaries to recognize their merits. You cannot play with
a man without knowing him, and young Oxford is democratic at heart,
and when once it knows a man, it does not trouble about the non-
essentials of wealth and fashion.

And again, though it may seem a paradox to say i