208 
NATURE 
[ DECEMBER 31, 1903 
aristocracy. There is a disadvantage in almost all our 
rulers being selected from a limited class. But in the 
democratic republics of America and Europe there is the 
far greater disadvantage that the nation seldom commands 
the public services of rich or cultured men or men of family. 
Here there is no man so high in rank, or so rich or so 
intellectual, that the nation cannot command his willing 
services. Again, there never in the history of the world 
was an aristocracy like ours, admitting mew men in every 
generation, allowing a constant flow of its younger sons 
downwards. Americans may gibe, and some of the younger 
of us may rail, but this system of government is beloved 
of all people in England, rich or poor; it is so. much a 
part of the English constitution that no'student of history 
can imagine an England governed in a different way, and 
this aristocracy will retain its power over a believing people 
until the time comes when it ceases to believe in its own 
self. At any one time it is only a minority of under- 
graduates who belong to the ruling caste, but the important 
thing to think of is that practically every member of the 
ruling class of England passes the four most important 
years of his life in Oxford (or Cambridge). All the rest of 
his life he looks at things through Oxford spectacles. His 
father and his father’s friends were Oxford men. His 
mother and his aunts have always been under the influence 
of Oxford clergymen; even the lighter literature and 
journalism of the household are from Oxford pens. Until 
he leaves his nursery, under his earliest tutors, in his pre- 
paratory school, in a public school, every tutor he has had, 
every influence round him, have been dominated by Oxford 
feelings. 
When at an age of from twenty-one to twenty-four a 
young man enters Parliament or diplomacy, or any of the 
reserved parts of our public services, his character is 
formed; ali his ways of thinking and his prejudices are 
on the models most revered in Oxford. His early youth has 
been influenced by Oxford of the past, his undergraduate 
ways have influenced and been influenced by Oxford of the 
present, and his prejudices, kept strong by loving memories, 
exercise an influence against all changes in Oxford for the 
future. 
I have often thought that Darius and his companions, 
the sons of the ruling families of Persia, had a most de- 
lightful education. We do not hear much of their love for 
literature or what we should call school-book work. Their 
education was in companionship with each other and with 
their wise fathers and their friends; in military exercises 
and in sports. Young gentlemen of England have always 
had that sort of education. It was probably best in 
Plantagenet times, when, indeed, a well trained young 
gentleman was not only very healthy and courageous, but 
he had not much chance of becoming lazy; he had the 
Opportunity, denied to the lower classes, of becoming fit to 
lead in warfare, fit to assist in all that then constituted 
the government of his country. But when the positions 
hitherto monopolised by great ecclesiastics became possible 
for laymen, if these laymen possessed the necessary learn- 
ing, youths of the higher class began to go to Oxford, and 
in the times of Queen Elizabeth and James there was real 
liberal culture among them such as had never been before 
and has never been since. To go to the university then 
became fashionable, and remains fashionable with youths 
of our higher classes. 
What is the nature of the education now given to one of 
these young men? His father, a man of consequence in his 
county, perhaps in the legislature, probably experienced in 
public duties, with much knowledge of men, has played with 
him in his infancy, and keeps in touch with him always. 
Even from infancy he has been in contact with the great 
people of his time. No book work, no lectures were needed 
in teaching him the manners of his class. He cannot help 
acquiring the virtues of the aristocrat ; his personal honour 
is dear to him, he always speaks the truth, he scorns all 
meanness, he respects the rights df others of his own class, 
and, indeed, of all others in so far as he understands that 
they have any rights. He shoots well and rides well. For 
some generations back he has been cleanly in his person, 
and he has been temperate and keeps healthy of body. 
Whatever becomes a custom of his class he follows as a 
law. Loyalty to his class and to the head of it are his creed. 
NO. 1783, VOL. 69] 
On the other side, he is ignorant of all knowledge that has 
not come to him by actual observation. . His sympathies 
outside his own class are very limited and conventional. 
His traditions are to the effect that only one man in a 
hundred takes heartily to School work, to book work, to 
learning ; that the average man-of -his class does not go 
to Oxford for learning.» He goes to finish his education, 
to meet. and make friends with, men who are to share with 
him later on in the government of the country. Healthy 
as an otter, unflinching as a fighting cock, faithful and 
courageous as a bulldog, clean as a cat, in far more 
intimate companionship with men than “he ever will 
be again, he admires or makes. close friendship with or 
mildly dislikes. these equals. His conneetion with the uni- 
versity is small; his college is everything; tutors were 
created for him. He learns the value of public opinion ; 
he learns that ginger may be hot in the mouth, and yet 
he is surrounded by such police arrangements that he is 
guarded from. ruin even when he is:most reckless. Truly 
it is a wonderful experience, a valuable education, and it 
is never through book work or lectures, but from actual 
experiment and observation that the average young English- 
man ever has or had -any kind of education. Darius and 
his young companions were well fitted to rule, but they 
probably could neither read nor write. The average young 
man who leavés Oxford with or without a pass degree 
forgets very soon what book work, what learning, he ever 
had, and he dislikes reading. He has always been laconic 
in speech, and finds a small vocabulary quite large enough 
for his needs. He has successfully cultivated an .appear- 
ance of. want of vulgar interest in anything, so that want 
of practice begins to tell upon his powers of observation, 
and his resourcefulness tends towards that of the ostrich- 
It is fondly assumed by his tutors that, although he soon 
forgets his Latin and Greek, yet his study of these was the 
medium of much mental training; that the study of Euclid 
and logic have given him a logical mind. I cannot deny 
that there may have been some mental training through 
Latin, but I assert—it is, of course, mere assertion—that 
it has not been much. On the other hand, I assert that 
much harm has been done, for his hereditary prejudices 
against all book work, all learning and literature have 
been deepened. For the few men of his own class who 
take kindly to literary studies he has a respect not un- 
tinged with doubt. Between him and the real student not 
of his own class there is a great gulf fixed, like what there 
is between him and clergymen. 
Observe that I am not here referring to the education 
of the real students. For them, it is true in a very limited 
range of subjects, but for them there is the most wonderful 
education ever known.’ They also make friends for life, 
they take fire at each other’s ideals as only young men can, 
they meet every day the great scholars of their age who 
are also students, and there is always a fine education in 
the mere contact with men worthy of young worship. 
Young men like this need but little teaching ; they are fond 
of books and educate themselves. 
It is easy for an outsider to overpraise this education, 
because the glamour of the beautiful college life is on alk 
his thoughts; he does not at once observe how narrow the 
culture has always been, and how now the examination 
system is cramping it more and more. Oxford is hard, un- 
spiritual and idolatrous, and the absence of scientific method 
is evident everywhere. Oxford is like a technical school, 
training these better’ men for the higher 
the Church, in the Civil Services, in journalism, at the 
Bar, and in boys’ schools. And it is found that these 
successful men have dwarfed imaginations and no power to 
think for themselves in any subjects outside their narrow 
professional grooves. The barrister who seems inspired in 
the Law Courts is mute and inglorious in the House o' 
Commons. The readers of the hundreds of newspaper 
1 Just nine days ago I gave a short address on the twentieth anniversary 
of the opening of College Hall, London. It is a hall which Lady Lockyer, 
her sister and her friends started for women students attending medical 
and other college courses where they might have that companion-hip without 
which there can really be no higher education. It is curious that this 
should be the only college hall in London, that London should be so well 
provided with university professors and lecture rooms and laboratories, 
and that the equally important c lleges of residence should be non-existent. 
A great city like London needs such halls far more than Oxford did whem 
William of Durham and Walter de Merton began to build. a 
posts in- 
