yet
he is a fine follower. He has learnt to do what he is told; he takes
life as he sees it and is content. So far so good. With the average
individual the system is not so very unsatisfactory.

But take the case of the boy who has it in him to be a leader, who is
not merely content to follow, but wishes to be at the head, in the
forefront of the battle. What of him? Gordon went to Fernhurst with the
determination to excel, and at once was brought face to face with the
fact that success lay in a blind worship at the shrine of the god of
Athleticism. Honesty, virtue, moral determination--these mattered not at
all. The author of _Eric_ and such others who have never faced, really
faced, life and seen what it is, talk of the incalculable good one boy
can do, who refuses to be led astray by temptations, and remains true to
the ideals he learnt in the nursery. If there does come into any school
such a boy, he is merely labelled as "pi," and taken no notice of. He
who wishes to get to the front has to strive after success on the field,
and success on the field alone. This is the way that the future leaders
of England are being trained to take their proper place in the national
struggle for a right and far-sighted civilisation. On this alone the
system stands condemned. For the history of a nation is the history of
its great men, and the one object of the Public School is to produce not
great men, but a satisfactory type.

Gordon found that, as soon as he was recognised as a coming athlete,
popularity was his, and that on the strength of his physical abilities
he could do pretty well what he liked. For there is no strong feeling in
schools on the subject of honesty and morality. And it is not unnatural
that a boy, finding that no one will object if he follows the call of
pleasure, drifts with the stream. And then Gordon went off suddenly at
games, as the best athlete must at some time or other. Like many others,
he loved popularity and fame. So, in order to keep in the limelight, he
flung aside all pretences of conscience, and got the reputation of being
"the devil of a sport"--a reputation that is a passport to Public School
society, but is damning to any man's character. Only a few realise this.
Betteridge was one. He was not an athlete, but was clever and in the
Sixth. He enjoyed a rag, but saw the difference between liberty and
licence. He was a freethinker, and saw life with a wide vision that
embraced the whole horizon