I have spoken of Davies’ strong sense of civic duty. To compare him again with Hughes, there was as great devotion to duty in the latter, but with a somewhat different colouring. In Hughes’ case the sense of duty was not so sharply defined, or clearly thought out, nor so much a matter of reason. With him it was rather a feeling, an instinct, part of his nature, such a sense of duty as comes into being at a great public school, in the form of _esprit de corps_, loyalty to a community of comrades and friends. All these men had this sense of obligation in different shades and forms; all heard the call of duty, each in his own way—the clergyman, the scholar, the public official, the merchant, the lawyer, the artist—and all obeyed the call by giving of their own particular store of knowledge. To the Greeks of old duty and goodness presented themselves in the guise of the beautiful, and this may be one reason why so many artists of fame gave their help to the College. In the list of art teachers of the past are the names of Ruskin, D. G. Rossetti, Ford Madox Brown, Burne Jones, Thomas Woolner, Stacy Marks, and others. One of the longest lived and best loved of the founders was Lowes Dickinson, who taught in the art class for many years, and, as all who knew him will testify, never lost sight of the connection between goodness and beauty. But it was not to be expected that the students, or would-be students, would be all of this type, until they had been duly inoculated. For instance, in the account of art teaching at the College in early days, which is given in the Jubilee volume, there is a story of a man coming to Ruskin’s class with a request to be taught how to draw a cart-wheel. He explained that he was a wheelwright, and that it would pay him in his business if he could draw a wheel as it looked lying on the ground. He wanted no art or anything of the kind, but simply to learn how to draw a wheel. This limited aspiration was not at all to Ruskin’s mind, and the wheelwright appears to have gone away sorrowing. The man came, quite naturally and laudably, in order to obtain some technical instruction, which would bring him in more money. No set of men were ever more anxious than the Founders of the College that their poorer brethren should rise and prosper, hence their staunch support of the Co-operative Movement. But they did not found it to give technical instruction; they founded it to teach the ‘humanities’ in the widest sense (including boxing), to give to poor men more human lives, to widen and multiply their interests, to open their understanding, to make them better citizens. They were democrats, but not democrats of the utilitarian type. They taught duty, the faith that was in them, more than rights or claims. They never taught the working man to try everything by the test question, What am I going to get by it in pounds, shillings, and pence? nor did they for one moment appeal