of contemporary thought.  More and more we are getting volunteer labour in almost every department.  Everywhere, in every town and in every parish, along with the professional workers, are those who work for nothing.  As for the women who work for nothing, the sisters of religious orders, the women who collect rents, the women who live among the poor, those who read aloud to patients in hospitals, those who go about in the poorest places, their name is legion.  And as for the men, we have no cause to be ashamed of the part which they take in this great voluntary movement, which is the noblest thing the world has ever seen, and which I believe to be only just beginning.  All our great religious societies, all our hospitals, all our philanthropic societies, are worked by unpaid committees.  All our School wards over the whole country, not to speak of the House of Commons, are unpaid.  At this very moment there are springing up here and there in East London actual monasteries—­only without monastic vows—­in which live young men who devote themselves, either wholly or in part, to work among the poor, often to evening and night work after their own day’s labours.  It is no longer a visionary thing; it is a great and solid fact, that there are hundreds of men willing, without vows, orders, or any rule, and without hope of reward, not even gratitude, to live for their brother men.  They give, not their money or their influence, or their exhortations, but they give—­themselves.  Greater love hath no man.  As for us, we shall not ask our teachers to give their whole time, unless they offer it.  One or two evenings out of the week will suffice.  I am convinced—­you are all, I am sure, convinced—­that there will be no difficulty at all in getting teachers, but that the only difficulty will be in selecting those who can add discretion to zeal, capability to enthusiasm, skill and tact in teaching, as well as a knowledge of an art to be taught.  Think of the Working Men’s College in Great Ormond Street—­perhaps you don’t know of this institution.  It is a great school for working men; it teaches all subjects, and it has been running for nearly thirty years.  During the whole of that time, I believe I am right in saying that the professors and teachers have been all unpaid—­they are volunteers.  Can we fear that in Art, in which there are so many enthusiasts, we shall not get as much volunteer assistance as in Letters and Science?

This, then, is my proposal for creating and developing an enthusiasm for Art.  There are to be schools everywhere, controlled by local committees, under a central society; there are to be volunteer teachers, willing to subject themselves to rule and order; there are to be public exhibitions and prize-givings; all the arts, not one only, are to be taught; great prominence is to be given to the minor arts; at first there will be no fees; above all and before all, the great College of ours is not to be made a Government department, to be tied and bound by the hard-and-fast rules and red tape which are the curse of every department, nor is it to be under the direction of any School Board, but, like most things in this country that are of any use, it is to be governed by its own council.