wondering contempt on the antiquated stuff which it rejoiced me to gather
from that kindly stall, or from the richer shelves within. My _Cicero's
Letters_ for instance: podgy volumes in parchment, with all the notes of
Graevius, Gronovius, and I know not how many other old scholars. Pooh!
Hopelessly out of date. But I could never feel that. I have a deep
affection for Graevius and Gronovius and the rest, and if I knew as much
as they did, I should be well satisfied to rest under the young man's
disdain. The zeal of learning is never out of date; the example--were
there no more--burns before one as a sacred fire, for ever unquenchable.
In what modern editor shall I find such love and enthusiasm as glows in
the annotations of old scholars?

Even the best editions of our day have so much of the mere school-book;
you feel so often that the man does not regard his author as literature,
but simply as text. Pedant for pedant, the old is better than the new.



XIV.


To-day's newspaper contains a yard or so of reading about a spring horse-
race. The sight of it fills me with loathing. It brings to my mind that
placard I saw at a station in Surrey a year or two ago, advertising
certain races in the neighbourhood. Here is the poster, as I copied it
into my note-book:

"Engaged by the Executive to ensure order and comfort to the public
attending this meeting:--