NEXT to its faith in religion an extreme abhorrence of matched athletic games pervaded the ruling spirits of the University and found its sanction in the charter of the institution. In the Bleponian and Boulomanian literary societies the characteristic discussion for heated and vigorous debate, next to the eternal question: Does Love or Money Rule the World? was: Are Athletic Contests Moral? The charter and advertisements of the University said very emphatically that they were not and should not be tolerated by Christian people. Jason and his Board of Pharisees agreed with the University. On the other hand, there were many young men and women who had an opposite mind and took issue on every occasion with Jason and the authorities. Thus one could find them on every occasion in the springtime when the fields and the paved paths lured forth whatever sporting proclivities nature had deposited in the blood, Jason and his followers firmly insisting that under no consideration should a contest of any sort—even a game of checkers or “Pit” be countenanced, as it led to gambling, and, if not to gambling, then to unchristian feeling. This feeling became acute when the students began to discuss the necessity for an athletic field and a gymnasium: a very hypothetical discussion remote and probably ever to remain remote, for the University had need of money for more impending goods than gymnasiums. But Jason’s party argued as if the gymnasium were about to be built, and said that it would only lead young men into racing for prizes!—and competing for wagers! The party was called the Anti-Gymnasiums.

Thropper and I aligned ourselves to the Pro-Gymnasiums, for, as Thropper said to me:

“My kneecaps fairly creak for need of stretching. As for my arm joints and muscles, they pain me on the least provocation. I need proper, systematic exercise.”

The Pro-Gymnasiums were thoroughly represented by “The Clamorous Eight,” whose faces and veins throbbed with healthy, well-exercised blood; in fact, they were eight who cared for little else beyond exercise of muscles.

The program of the Blepoes one Friday evening was devoted to the debate of the question: “Resolved: That the Bible Prohibits Athletic Contests.” Larry Thomas, who debated for the Pro’s and who was almost as well versed in biblical lore as was Jason, argued well, basing his strongest rhetoric on Paul’s words: “I so run that I may receive a prize,” and “I box, not as beating the air,” but, as Larry paraphrased it, freely, “to give a knock-out, pure and simple, a plain indication that Paul believed in the prize-ring and the running-track!” The Anti’s, realizing the force of these quotations, attempted to minimize their power by arguing, “Oh, Paul was only using the common terms of his day; the ordinary experiences of unchristian men, to represent to them the Christian life. That was all. He was not giving sanction to sports.” This explanation, the judges informed us, considerably helped the Anti’s, but the debate was declared a draw.

Evangelical University was Treated to its First Match Game

One Saturday morning when the air was crammed with the warmth and lassitude of early summer, and a considerable number of Pro-Gymnasiums were playing scrub baseball, one of the “Clamorous Eight,” in a fit of healthy rebellion against the University, proposed:

“Say, fellows, this knocking out a ball is too tame. Let’s choose up sides. There’s no harm in it!”

Thropper, who was not working that day, and myself, were among those enjoying the sport, and in the excitement and thoughtlessness of the minute we consented. I was placed in the field, Thropper went in the catcher’s box. We even engaged the services of an umpire, though few were found from whom we could select a capable official. Many of the Pro’s dared not come into the game, but stood off ready to look on an incident that should become historic, like a Civil War or a French Revolution: the first matched game ever played on the University grounds!

Jason looked on the opening of the game with horror. To him it seemed that the Evil One had just made his bold appearance in the morale of the institution. When he heard the umpire’s decisions and saw the sides changing positions, and realized at last that the whole event had actually developed into a matched game, he hurried to the home of the Dean and gave notice of the rebellion that he had scented. Instantly the authorities came, ordered the game disbanded, took our names for Faculty discipline, and we left the field to the Anti’s, who sincerely believed that Satan himself had been flouted.

But even the anti-match spirit of Jason and his band could not eliminate from their joints and muscles the need of exercise, and while they argued against the advent of contested sports, they could be found on the cinder walk after supper, previous to the evening prayer-service, leaping, bounding, twisting, and jumping, Jason in competition manifesting the grace of a rheumatic frog.

Shortly after this an epidemic of disease broke out in the village. The University was quarantined—even from attendance at the village church services. The momentousness of this is plainly evident when it is remembered that it was these church services which gave to the University lovers their chance to walk together, sit together, sing and pray and talk together; consequently the quarantine imposed a severe restriction upon the poor unfortunates.

When Sunday dawned, glorious with the summer sun, some of the members of Jason’s clique together with their young ladies took their black-bound Bibles and sat under the campus saplings for Bible study: two in a class and every sapling shade occupied.

But the Dean, who hated sham of every sort, interrupted these classes and the next morning in chapel he had some very emphatic and pointed remarks to make on the subject: “The Sacrilege of Pretending to Study the Bible when You are Doing Nothing but Make Love!”

It was the Pro-gymnasiums’ turn to laugh then.