is not self-reliance, but a vigorous determination to stand or fall by others. It is the chosen band of youth, one of whose fall would vitiate, if not destroy, the chances of the rest. There is no such question ever asked as 'who got the score?'

When the boat-race was a matter of small importance, but little care was taken to select the real representatives of the University. But since it has become an annual exhibition, and one annually increasing in popularity, the choice has been more honourable, as the numbers for election have been greater. If now favour be shown, if now the crack ones of smaller colleges be excluded, if partiality instead of intelligence guide the club, it is not the club or the interests of a few boating men which suffer, but the prestige of a whole University. The hole-and-corner business is done away with, by the general taste exhibited for aquatics, as the grand test of excellence in the Universities. The energies of undergraduates have become more concentrated: their enthusiasm has produced the necessity of an ever-recurring competition, it matters very little for what, and by sheer force has compelled the whole population to share their zeal. Changes have produced a combination of circumstances, which have favoured an innocent recreation to an extent which five-and-twenty years ago seemed impossible.

It will be understood that University men, having taken up the thing con amore, are in a peculiarly favourable position for enforcing its superiority over every other form of competition. The finest scullers, the best London and Kingston oarsmen, Newcastle and Glasgow may send out their champions, but who ever hears even their names excepting among rowing men? or sees them excepting in the columns of papers devoted to sport? It is not any taste for fine pulling, though the Oxford crew of 1864 may certainly lay claim to the highest credit, that brings men out of their beds at seven o'clock in the morning, to run from Putney to Mortlake, to be knocked into the water by an infuriated charge of cavalry from the towing-path, to stand on Hammersmith Bridge in a cold northeaster, or to form one of a party on a rival steamboat, whose least loss is likely to be that of a paddle-wheel, and whose greatest advantage is a total inability to see. In the University, as elsewhere, once make a thing fashionable and it is all over but shouting. Undergraduates command a certain amount of attention out of their own world. Fathers and mothers delight in dear Tom, as long as he does something: and even if he pretends a little enthusiasın, which he does not feel, it easily communicates itself to others, and, like the electric fluid, permeates all dear Tom's acquaintance. Boating, too, as the patriarchs admit, is such an innocent occupation. Like mourning coaches,' however, after the funeral, an University boat may contain a deal of fun and it has been already observed that the severity of six weeks' training demands a little relaxation.

'Neque semper arcum
Tendit Apollo.'

Then again, beyond the family circle, undergraduates are sure to be favourites with the women. It has been asserted that a really good curate, a good specimen lately imported with his University feathers fresh on him, can give 7 lbs. to an ensign, and 3 lbs. to a cornet. I do not profess to have studied that (some of them could once over a country); but I believe a good neutral tint is invaluable; and that the pleasing uncertainties of an undergraduate career, which may turn to red or black, holds out a lure which, cæteris paribus, the daughters of England find it difficult to resist. So conspicuous were the bonnet ribbons on Saturday, the 19th of March, on the banks of the Thames, in all sorts of carriages, over garden walls, and at open windows, that the question is still raging as to which had the show of hands whether the dark blue or the light blue was first in favour with the sex, and, as neither feel inclined to give way, adhuc sub judice lis est,' and the Gentleman in Black will offend neither party by pretending to decide.

And now to business. Let us leave a record of what we saw for future generations, when the participators in the scene shall have passed away, but the pages of Baily' shall remain behind, to benefit succeeding ages.

Rursus ut stripem novam

Generet renascens melior' (dies).—SENECA.

The morning of Saturday, March 19th, came gloriously forth for the sport that was to be witnessed. The sun shone out in all its beauty, and cleared away the mists that early settled upon the waters. The ripples of old Father Thames danced in the sunlight, and responded gaily to the willing hearts that were waiting for a final trial of strength, or longing to witness the struggle which was to decide the great aquatic question of the year. Not to have it all our own way, a sharp south-easter quickened the appetites and reddened the noses of the multitudes, who full two hours before the time, had taken up positions in the most available localities. As the time drew nearer, the Waterloo Station presented a scene of confusion which can be found nowhere but at the Waterloo Station on such occasions. The temporary box for the receiving of money and the issuing of tickets was all but demolished before the final rush for the train. Light blue and dark blue were mingled in muchadmired confusion: the rosettes were manifestly in many cases the work of fairy fingers, which knew no more severe labour than the Penelopean intricacies of embroidered slippers and the time-beguiling crochet. The Blue Riband of the Water was gained already; and the sky seemed to have lent its influences, if we may judge by the amount of blue that had descended upon earth. The rural blue alone was absent. The Derby was being rehearsed, if we may only substitute the refined elbowing of the better classes for the inexorable skrimmaging of the rough and the betting-man. Once inside the carriages, and the journey was speedily performed, amidst the vociferous predilections of Oxford and Cambridge.

Nor was the road free from interest. Every vehicle worthy of the name, from the aristocratic phaeton to the costermonger's cart, helped to swell the crowd and clog the road; and each had its prejudice, which it was not backward in proclaiming. Odds on Oxford was the order of the day; but if the expressers of opinion were inclined to back it there ought to have been but little choice between the two. Putney was besieged by a crowd denser as it approached the rival publics devoted to the two Universities. No more enthusiastic an election mob in the fine old days of prolonged contests ever thronged a window to hear their beloved candidate state what he called his principles, than that which surrounded the Star and 'Garter,' or the White Lion,' to catch a glimpse of the champions of their cause. Handsome women and Hansom cabs both solicited attention; and it was no easy matter to get out of the way of either. The London and Hammersmith road, as leading from the great metropolis, had the pull; but from the other centres there poured into the villages of Sheen and Mortlake carriages, omnibuses, dogcarts, and donkey-carts of every pattern and contrivance. Such an excitement, even at the University boat-race, has never been seen before. The hour, too, was propitious, as well as the day. I have shaved in the dark, I have faced a gale of wind, and once I encountered a moderate snow-storm in search of my favourite holiday, but no such obstacle presented itself now. Save to the unfortunate inhabitant of the antipodes, ample time was given to digest a breakfast and yet reach the scene of action at 11.15. Nor ought I to forget to mention the body of both sexes which charged along the towing-path, or down the benighted alleys and wharves on the river's bank, on horses manageable and unmanageable. The hot haste of the riders as they hurried along an unwilling steed, and the useless efforts of the ignorant to restrain the impetuous rush of cavalry, as they scattered dirt and stones amongst the flying pedestrians, was truly a sight for gods and men. their flowing robes on side-saddles might be forgiven, but why young The lovely figures that sported gentlemen who take an outing' on these occasions do not ride inside' it would be difficult to imagine. The pleasure of being run down by a lovely female in equestrian costume is open to discussion, but the being knocked into the river by an incapable' in male attire, who may be a man, but looks like a yahoo,' is an unmistakeable nuisance.

The river itself on such an occasion was a highway. Every conceivable craft sought refuge on the bosom of the Thames. There were all the rowing-clubs in England, and the professional talent of the three kingdoms was represented. There were washing-tubs with funnels and Lord Mayor's barges cheek by jowl; there were colliers and yachts, funnies and wherries, and, as a facetious friend observed, some wery funny wherries indeed. Above, towering in their pride and might, were one-and-twenty steamers-huge, noisy, lumbering affairs, prepared to run down or into anything; and there

was the 'George Peabody,' which hoisted the royal standard, and carried our own gallant Prince of Wales.

It is impossible to pass over this eventful occasion without digressing for half a dozen lines in favour of his Royal Highness. Although he has always shown himself attached to the sports which constitute the great characteristic of the Englishman over the foreigner, the Universities must feel flattered that he should have exhibited an interest in their contest. Belonging to both, it is difficult to know whether the Prince felt any decided predilection for the one or the other: indeed it matters but little to the bulk of his future subjects: but we are confirmed in our previously conceived notions of his kindness of feeling and sympathy with the pursuits of his countrymen by the manifest interest he has taken in the late boat-race. The Prince's time is not as our time; and the value of the sacrifice should not be forgotten when he spends two or three hours of his leisure in giving countenance to our recreations. If there were nothing in the contest to mark it beyond this, the first visit of the Heir to the English throne would lend the day a peculiar lustre; and we congratulate Oxford on so auspicious an addition to the pleasures of success.

I was about to return to the start and the race; but I have been stopped by a ghostly array of steamers ahead, of which I would primarily dispose. In the language of Mr. Chucks, the boatswain, I would just delicately hint that they are, without any exception, the most indomitable, impracticable, inevitable, disgustingly objectionable obstacles to sport and fair play that have ever interfered in any race. They are alike dangerous to small craft and large, and not the less so to one another: while, as if to cheer the spirits and aid the efforts of the losing crew, they create a swell and a deadness of water all round them which increases their difficulties, and adds the pleasing consolation to their disappointment that in the event of an accident they are quite sure to be swamped. I never saw anything more disgraceful than the year Cambridge was upset (1859), when it was a merciful dispensation of Providence that the crew was not smashed. Figure to yourself the pleasures of a stern chase, feeling the water momentarily heavier and heavier, and your own strength failing, while you see immediately behind you, with her bows well over your coxswain's head, the Vivid,' the Rapid,' thePluto,' or the Cormorant,' ready to fall upon and devour you at once. They have been warned year after year by public print and private expostulation; but if there is money to be got they are indifferent to human life, yours or their own, so long as their object is attained. It was not this year so grossly bad as it has been; but it was so dangerous and so severe an impediment to the losing boat that this trial ought to end the steamers. There must be a finish to it somewhere; and on the next trip either the steamers must abstain from coming within a given distance of the last boat under certain penalties, or the race must be removed to Henley.

Having disposed of the steamers, let us go back to the boats, which at half-past eleven were each at their respective stations-Oxford, having won the toss, as usual (I suppose they have bought Box's halfpenny, woman on both sides), on the Middlesex side of the river, and Cambridge, of course, off the Putney shore. The starting place had been slightly altered, and, instead of the Aqueduct, two boats were moored nearly opposite the Star and Garter' to serve for the poteau de départ. The names of the men composing the crews, with their weights, are as follows; and when I add that up to this year the successes of the two Universities are exactly equal in their matches, each having been victorious ten times, it will be difficult to imagine a more exciting moment than that in which Mr. Searle of Lambeth declared them to be 'Off!'

་

By this list of the competitors composing the crews it will be seen that Cambridge had about two stone the best of it in weight-an advantage which might have availed them in former years, when the water was rough and the wind against them, but which was not so when the stream had scarcely a ripple larger than a handsome dimple.

Cambridge took the water first; and obeying that instinct which calls upon all men to hit the first blow, if they really mean fighting, succeeded by a few rapid strokes, not peculiarly artistic, but effectual for their purpose, in putting the nose of the light-blue first. But when blue nose meets blue nose the tug of war is severe; and it is not too much to say that dark-blue was not more than a few seconds in putting in an appearance, which left little doubt on the minds of good judges of rowing how this contest would end. Some have endeavoured to make a race of it: there's not a ghost of reality in it: not even for a quarter of a mile. Oxford was always going within 'herself:' within a hundred yards of the start she was even with her opponents; her long, swinging stroke, as perfect in form and time as could be, sent her ahead long before they reached Hammersmith Bridge; at Barnes even the shadow of a contest was over; and at the Ship' at Mortlake the dark-blues were almost resting on their oars, and had taken out their pocket-handkerchiefs for the performance of that modified toilet which is wont to be performed when the pores of the forehead have been unusually opened. Finding, however, that the flagstaff was a little higher up, they rowed leisurely on, completing the distance in 21 min. 15 secs., without