tolerate the opinions of others. If the recreation, however, is
to be a mental gymnasium it must be guided by fixed rules, and
this is most important.

The tone must be of a high level. No vulgarity; no scurrility.
_In the hottest debate we must not forget that we are gentlemen_.

We should argue, not to overcome an opponent, but to make truth
evident. Minds in debate should resemble flails on the threshing
floor, that labour not to overcome each other, but to separate
the solid grains from the chaff and straw.

No man should be ashamed to say "I don't know" or "Perhaps I am
wrong."

Without these safeguards the recreation or debate might easily
become a cock-pit of unbridled passions. "Our fortunes lie not in
our stars, good Brutus, but in ourselves." The making of the
priests depends not merely on the college, but also on the
students' own endeavours. This latter fact is but imperfectly
understood, or acted on only in a very limited extent. It is from
intercourse between minds of various bents, the debating clubs,
the social unions, and not the lecture halls or study desks, that
the Oxford student draws strength and elegance of character. It
is the want or misuse of these opportunities that leaves the
young Irish priest so raw and unfinished.

_Knowledge_ only comes from the professor and the book, but the
_character_ is shaped, rounded, and polished by a variety of
agencies lying outside both these. The creation of these agencies