never to run, and always to make sure of the kick into touch.
So far we have dealt with the play of full-backs when they are receiving the ball. The second, and to our mind the far harder half of his work, consists in receiving the man with the ball. If he lets only the ball pass him, it is still possible for him to get out of the difficulty; but if he lets the man with the ball pass him, it is all up with his side for the time at all events.
There is one elementary rule about tackling under all circumstances, and that is, to go at your man low—to aim at the hips and not at the shoulder. In the latter case the tackier can always be shoved off and the try is a certainty; in the former case, provided that the tackier knows the right moment to go for his man, he is certain to hold him and the ball. But how he knows the right moment is a mystery which we have never been able to understand. We can only suppose that it comes by instinct to some and not to others. It is easy enough to learn to tackle as a forward, where you can go at your man with a rush, but it is quite another matter to stand the last man on your side, and to feel that you must bring the runner down at all costs. Some backs seem to exercise a sort of fascination over you, and you feel bound to run into their clutches. We have a lively recollection in this respect of the play of A. S. Taylor of Cambridge, and we believe that others felt much the same about H. B. Tristram of Oxford.
The only way to elude such a tackier is by passing just as you come to him, unless you have the power of turning when going at fall speed, such as was possessed by Don Wauchope of Cambridge, G. C. Wade of Oxford, or Stoddart of Blackheath, and by very few others.
If a captain has to choose for his full-back between a
