dition. It is not to be obtained quickly, and,
when obtained, will fit the beast for no other than that one purpose
of running races. Crucifix was never good at going in a cab; Ilione
never took her noble owner down to the house of Parliament; nor has
Toxopholite been useful in Leicestershire.

But, nevertheless, let all our work be done by race-horses; all, at
least, that shall be considered honourable. Let us have strength and
speed. And how shall we know who are strong and swift if we do not
train our horses to run against each other? But this early racing
will hardly produce that humanity of spirit of which we now deplore
the want. "The devil take the hindmost" is the very essence of the
young man's book of proverbs. The devil assuredly will take all the
hindmost. None but the very foremost can enter the present heaven of
good things. Therefore, oh my brother, my friend, thou companion of
my youth! may the devil take thee; thee quickly, since it needs must
be thee or me.

_Vae victis_--alas! for these hindmost ones; there are so many of
them! The skim-milk will always be so much more in quantity than the
cream. With us at present cream is required for everything; nothing
can be well done now unless it be done by cream of some sort. That
milk has been skimmed; the cream has been taken away. No matter; skim
it again. There shall be something yet which we will call cream.
Competitive examination will produce something that shall look to
be strong; that shall be swift, if it be only for a start of twenty
yards.

This is the experiment of the present day. Wise men say that when
nothing but cream is accepted, all mankind, all boykind rather, will
prepare itself for a skimming of some sort; and that the quantity of
cream produced will be immense. It is only done as an instigation to
education. Much may be said in opposition to this; but nothing shall
be said here. It is merely of the cruelty of spirit that is thus
engendered that we now speak. Success is the only test of merit.
Words have lost their old significance, and to deserve only is not
meritorious. _Vae victis!_ there are so many of them!

"Thompson," says Johnson, the young poet, when he has at last
succeeded in getting the bosomest of his friends alone into his
chamber with him, "have you happened to look at my Iphigenia yet?"

Thompson can't say that he has. He has been busy; has had so many
water-parties; and then, somehow, he doesn't think that he is ver