all sorts and conditions of our people
of the honourable obligation of fidelity to the pledged word of
Britain, combined with a chivalric desire to champion the cause of
weak, unoffending Belgium against the Teutonic bully--there was
released in this country a flood of noble idealism and pure emotion,
the memory of which those who lived during that spiritual awakening
will never forget. No section of the community rose more finely to the
height of the occasion than the athletes and scholars from our public
schools and universities. Nobly did they respond to the call voiced by
one of their number, R. E. Vernede (an old Pauline, now sleeping in a
soldier's grave in France):

Lad, with the merry smile and the eyes
Quick as the hawk's and clear as the day;
You, who have counted the game the prize,
Here is the game of games to play.
Never a goal--the captains say--
Matches the one that's needed now;
Put the old blazer and cap away--
England's colours await your brow.

Man, with the square-set jaws and chin,
Always, it seems, you have moved to your end
Sure of yourself, intent to win
Fame and wealth and the power to bend.
All that you've made you're called to spend--
All that you've sought you're asked to miss--
What's ambition compared with this:
That a man lay down his life for his friend?

Exulting in the response of the athletes, Paul Jones found his faith
in the value of games confirmed by this memorable rally to the Flag.
His last contribution to _The Alleynian_ was inspired by it. Shortly
after he joined the Army he wrote to the magazine a letter (published
anonymously in May, 1915) under the caption "Flannelled Fools and
Muddied Oafs." In this contribution he sings a paean in praise of the
amateur athlete. After reminding his readers of pre-War denunciations
of "the curse of athletics," he asks, "What of athletics now?"

At present, we see that the poor, despised athlete or
sportsman--call him what you will--is coming to the front,
practically and metaphorically, in a way which makes one wonder
if, for the higher purposes of duty, athletics are not really the
very best of all systems of training. When we look at the matter
in the broadest light, the explanation shines forth clearly. All
learning and all business are in the end simply and solely
_selfish_. For example, you work hard for a scholarship at Oxford
or Camb