ine of methodical training; he has awakened in them the sense
of beauty. Such a man is nothing less than a benefactor to humanity.
Let us follow his example in the Palace of the People.

I venture, further, to express my strong conviction that the success
of the Palace will depend entirely upon its being governed, within
limits at first, but these limits constantly broadening, by the people
themselves. If they think the Palace is a trap to catch them, and make
them sober, good, religious and temperate, there will be an end. In
the first place, therefore, there must be a real element of the
working man upon the council; there must be real working men on every
sub-committee or branch; the students must be wholly recruited from
the working classes; and gradually the council must be elected by the
people who use the Palace. Fortunately, there would be no difficulty
at the outset in introducing this element, because the great factories
and breweries in the neighbourhood might be asked each to elect one or
more representatives to sit upon the council of the new University. It
'goes without saying' that the police work, the maintenance of order,
the out-kicking of offenders, must be also entirely managed by a
voluntary corps of efficient working men. Rows there will undoubtedly
be, since we are all of us, even the working man, human; but there
need be no scandals.

I must not go on, though there is so much to be said. I see before us
in the immediate future a vast University whose home is in the Mile
End Road; but it has affiliated colleges in all the suburbs, so that
even poor, dismal, uncared-for Hoxton shall no longer be neglected;
the graduates of this University are the men and women whose lives,
now unlovely and dismal, shall be made beautiful for them by their
studies, and their heavy eyes uplifted to meet the sunlight; the
subjects or examination shall be, first, the arts of every kind: so
that unless a man have neither eyes to see nor hand to work with, he
may here find something or other which he may learn to do; and next,
the games, sports, and amusements with which we cheat the weariness of
leisure and court the joy of exercising brain and wit and strength.
From the crowded class-rooms I hear already the busy hum of those who
learn and those who teach. Outside, in the street, are those--a vast
multitude to be sure--who are too lazy and too sluggish of brain to
learn anything: but these, too, will flock into the Pa