The ideal expressed in John Milton’s definition of education, “that which fits a man to perform justly, skilfully, and magnanimously, all the duties of all offices,” is one which is, we think, very deeply embedded in the minds of the working classes, and we attribute part of the failure of higher education among them in the past, to the feeling that, by means of it their ablest members were being removed to spheres where they would not be available for the service of their fellows. What they desire is not that men should escape from their class, but that they should remain in it and raise the whole level. The eleven millions who weave our clothes, build our houses, and carry us safely on our journeys demand university education in order that they may face with wisdom the unsolved problems of their present position, not in order that they may escape to another.... To-day in their strivings for a fuller life, they ask that men of their own class should co-operate as students with Oxford in order that, with minds enlarged by impartial study, they in their turn may become the public teachers and leaders, the philosophers and economists of the working classes. The movement, which is thus formulated in a report signed by seven representative workmen, is fraught with incalculable possibilities. The sum of happiness in the nation might be vastly increased, and politics might be guided by more persistent wisdom. The great sources of happiness which rise within the mind and are nourished by contact with other minds are largely out of reach of the majority of the people. These sources might be brought within their reach. The working classes whose minds are strengthened by the discipline of work, might have the knowledge which would interest them in the things their hands make; they might, in the long monotonies of toil, be illuminated by the thoughts of the great, and inspired by ideals; they might be introduced to the secrets of beauty, and taught the joy of admiration. They might be released from the isolation of ignorance, so that, speaking a common language, and sharing common thoughts, they would have the pleasure of helping and being helped in discussions with members of other classes on all things under the sun. The workman knows about livelihood; he might know also about life, if the great avenues of art, literature, and history, down which come the thoughts and ideals of ages, were open to him. He might be happy in reading, in thinking, or in admiring, and not be driven to find happiness in the excitement of sport or drink. The mass of the people it is often said are dumb, so that they cannot tell their thoughts; deaf, so that they cannot understand the language of modern truth; and blind, so that they cannot see the beauty of the world. The speaker, in Mr. Lowes Dickenson’s dialogue, condemns this generation when he says, “their idea of being better off is to eat and drink to excess, to dress absurdly, and to play stupidly and cruelly”.