Again:  I see this Athletic Education of yours made a matter of public celebration in schools and colleges; and I ask any unprejudiced witness to tell me which excites most popular enthusiasm, and which gets the most prominent place in the public journals—­the exhibition, indoors (on Prize-day), of what the boys can do with their minds? or the exhibition, out of doors (on Sports-day), of what the boys can do with their bodies?  You know perfectly well which performance excites the loudest cheers, which occupies the prominent place in the newspapers, and which, as a necessary consequence, confers the highest social honors on the hero of the day.”

Another murmur from One, Two, and Three.  “We have nothing to say to that, Sir; have it all your own way, so far.”

Another ratification of agreement with the prevalent opinion between Smith and Jones.

“Very good,” pursued Sir Patrick.  “We are all of one mind as to which way the public feeling sets.  If it is a feeling to be respected and encouraged, show me the national advantage which has resulted from it.  Where is the influence of this modern outburst of manly enthusiasm on the serious concerns of life? and how has it improved the character of the people at large?  Are we any of us individually readier than we ever were to sacrifice our own little private interests to the public good?  Are we dealing with the serious social questions of our time in a conspicuously determined, downright, and definite way?  Are we becoming a visibly and indisputably purer people in our code of commercial morals?  Is there a healthier and higher tone in those public amusements which faithfully reflect in all countries the public taste?  Produce me affirmative answers to these questions, which rest on solid proof, and I’ll accept the present mania for athletic sports as something better than an outbreak of our insular boastfulness and our insular barbarity in a new form.”

“Question! question!” in a general cry, from One, Two, and Three.

“Question! question!” in meek reverberation, from Smith and Jones.

“That is the question,” rejoined Sir Patrick.  “You admit the existence of the public feeling and I ask, what good does it do?”

“What harm does it do?” from One, Two, and Three.

“Hear! hear!” from Smith and Jones.

“That’s a fair challenge,” replied Sir Patrick.  “I am bound to meet you on that new ground.  I won’t point, gentlemen, by way of answer, to the coarseness which I can see growing on our national manners, or to the deterioration which appears to me to be spreading more and more widely in our national tastes.  You may tell me with perfect truth that I am too old a man to be a fair judge of manners and tastes which have got beyond my standards.  We will try the issue, as it now stands between us, on its abstract merits only.  I assert that a state of public feeling which does practically place physical training, in its estimation, above moral and