He was contented, in a dull kind of way, with the even monotony of his days. Life at school, he felt, would be always the same; he would attain no distinctions, but at least he would suffer no violent agonies. If you could not be brilliant and wonderful it was as well to be completely insignificant. Defiant eccentricity led to much discomfort, unless you possessed invincible contempt for ordinary popularity; and the way of the harmless imbecile was hard at a public school. When you were at school all the old standards did seem to alter most strangely. After all, why bother about standards? Why think at all? School was really pleasanter when you did not think but just drifted. Yet, could a place where it was better not to think except about everyday events be really right? All boys were either beasts or worms or geese. The geese were most numerous, and usually followed and applauded the beasts. Oh monstrous, stale, unprofitable world!—From _The First Round_, by ST. JOHN LUCAS. XII At present those who pursue philosophy at all are mere striplings just emerged from boyhood, who take it up in the intervals of business; and, after just dipping into the most abstruse part of the study, abandon the pursuit altogether. And pray what is the right plan? Just the opposite. In youth and boyhood they ought to be put through a course of instruction carefully suited to their years; and while their bodies are growing up to manhood, especial attention should be paid to them, as a serviceable acquisition in the cause of philosophy. At the approach of that period during which the mind begins to attain its maturity, the mental exercises ought to be rendered more severe. Finally, when their bodily powers begin to fail, and they are released from public duties and military service, from that time forward they ought to consecrate themselves altogether to the study of philosophy, if they are to live happily on earth, and after death to crown the life they have led with a corresponding destiny in another world. —From PLATO’S _Republic_, bk. vi. V. SUJETS DE RÉDACTION I _Le soir, après souper, je relisais mon_ Robinson, _je l’apprenais par cœur; le jour, je le jouais, je le jouais avec rage, et tout ce qui m’entourait, je l’enrôlais dans ma comédie_ (voir p. 6). ROBINSON SAUVE VENDREDI 1. Un matin, il aperçoit de loin une trentaine de sauvages, qui débarquent dans son Île et allument un grand feu. Ils ont avec eux deux prisonniers, et, pendant qu’ils en tuent un et le découpent pour le faire rôtir, l’autre s’échappe. 2. Trois des sauvages se mettent à sa poursuite, mais il court plus vite qu’eux et gagne une crique, qu’il traverse à la nage. Un de ses ennemis s’arrête, ne sachant pas nager, et les deux autres n’atteignent le bord que longtemps après le fugitif, qui se dirige précisément du côté de Robinson.