To accomplish it more and better art training is required, and some more artistic forms of work should be provided. Better art training of the teachers of shop work in manual training schools is necessary, but this will come when its necessity is felt by them and by the school authorities. Then will the manual training school be able to accomplish more fully that which has been called the supreme purpose of education, the development of the capacity for unselfish creative activity, and for the highest enjoyment.

LIMITATIONS TO ARTISTIC MANUAL TRAINING.

By C. R. RICHARDS, Director of the Department of Science and Technology, Pratt Institute, Brooklyn, N. Y.

It seems to me that this conference affords us an opportunity not only to weigh the relation between art education and manual training, but also to acknowledge the debt that manual training owes to art education. Our friends, the art teachers, have always been a sort of foster brothers to us of the manual-training movement. We were all of the new tendency in education, and when the manualtraining movement began, the art people, who by that time had gained a fairly firm foothold for themselves, lent us a cordial support and most sympathetic assistance, and I do not think that we can ever sufficiently repay them for their cooperation at that time.

The purely mechanical character of much of our work, however, has always been a great distress to our friends, and from the first they have used all their influence to make our work assume a more attractive appearance. The results of this influence are to a large extent most happily illustrated by the work brought together by this conference, and for this again I think we owe a large debt to our friends. I feel most emphatically that our work will continue to be extended in this direction, and that we shall be able in the future to accomplish more and better results having a distinct artistic value.

There are, however, limitations in this direction, and it is upon the subject of these limitations that I wish to say a few words. It seems to me that at the outset we must accept the principle that manual training is not primarily art training. In its vital essence, manual training is an instrument that through certain processes of tool work serves to train the student in patience, carefulness, neatness, and accuracy of doing. I do not offer this as a complete definition of manual training, but this, it seems to me, is the basis of its educational value.

The above influences are important elements of character building, but they do not in themselves make toward an art training. In this direction our work in the public schools must be largely confined to teaching students to appreciate form and proportion and fitness of design. In order to gain this appreciation most naturally and most effectively, a medium is needed in which the student can most easily express and most easily correct his imperfect conceptions. This medium is presented by the processes of drawing and modeling. The exacting and laborious processes of tool work are, compared with these, but awkward instruments for the development of these ideas. When, after long training, a strong appreciation of form and the principles of design have been obtained, wood and iron and stone offer the natural opportunities for artistic expression, but during the developing period, while the problem is the gaining of form appreciation, it seems to me that drawing and modeling must always be the natural vehicles for such training.

Do not understand me as suggesting that we should not endeavor to bring in models of an artistic character in our manual-training work. I merely mean that we should not attempt to model in wood or to draw in iron, but should for certain ends seek the natural and legitimate means. I believe most emphatically that we should endeavor to make every exercise in our manual training so good in form

and proportion that it will have in itself an æsthetic influence. I believe also most strongly that we must give larger importance to the element of interest and make more frequent use of the finished piece, not at the end of our courses, but interspersed in simple forms throughout the work. By this direct appeal to the pupil's interest we place in the work its own natural stimulant and secure the application of the pupil through the nature of the task.

I returned a few days ago from what was to me a most interesting and valuable trip to some eight of our largest cities, and I found in every one of the manualtraining people with whom I came in contact the feeling that we must give more of a place to this element of interest. We must put in the work those elements which make a direct appeal to the pupil's imagination and his moral senses. I found this feeling even in places where manual training formerly meant a purely formal course of exercises. That stage, however, has gone by. We are not going back to it. The manual training of the future will recognize that its highest results can only be obtained when the imagination and interest of the pupil are sufficiently aroused to make of the work indeed a labor of love.

It is, of course, through this use of the finished project that the opportunities, and they are certainly broad ones, come of bringing in an artistic influence, but it seems to me that we should not in this matter sacrifice our manual-training principles to our artistic results. In other words, we should not start with the aim of artistic or decorative models as the end of manual training, but should rather make of each piece, first, a well-considered exercise in manual training, and then endeavor by all in our power to make it good in form and proportion, and perhaps in decoration. Manual training is a subject with its own value and with its own principles of development, and it seems to me that perhaps the true relation between art education and manual training will be obtained when, through all our work, we hold securely to our manual-training base and endeavor to build upon this all that we can of use and beauty.

SOME PRINCIPLES OF DECORATIVE ART.

By W. H. GOODYEAR, Lecturer on the History of Art at Cooper Institute, New York City.

[Abstract.]

The proverb which says that there is no disputing about tastes has suggested to me the historic method as the best one to follow in treating of my subject. To avoid the imputation of presenting individual views or theories, as to principles in taste, must be the first effort of the teacher of such principles. The same reasons which suggest the appeal to historic examples in fixing the standard of taste in music or in literature apply to art.

Even in speaking of the decorative-art movement of recent years the historic method is available, for I am able to say that the principles which I shall explain are those of a definite movement which has had widespread influence and a defined history, although this history is of recent date. The genesis of the decorative-art movement and of the art revival of the last fifty years dates back to the first studies of art history as made by John Winckelmann in the eighteenth century. His ideas were developed by Lessing, Goethe, and other Germans, and thus became the intellectual property of Europe. It was, however, especially reserved for England and the United States to make practical application of the results of such studies to modern decorative art. These last named countries have lagged behind the European continental countries in art, historic, and archæologic studies, but they have, in my opinion, gone beyond them in the matter of modern, practical results.

The new movement in England is probably known to you as dating from the Crystal Palace Exhibition of 1851 and the friendship then cemented between the

Prince Consort and Owen Jones, author of the Grammar of Ornament. Hence the founding of the South Kensington Museum and its various branches, and the later spread of the decorative-art movement to the United States. The ideas of this movement are best explained by Mr. Eastlake's book on Household Taste. From its great popularity resulted what is known as the Eastlake style of furniture. Mr. Eastlake himself did not, however, contemplate the creation of a style, nor were his designs proposed as the sole feasible notions of taste, in view of the flimsy and dishonest carpentry construction prevalent in modern furniture about and after 1850.

Mr. Eastlake's idea was to show that good taste was compatible with economy, simplicity, and good carpentry. The bare simplicity of his designs was caused by economic conditions and the necessary expense, even of the plainest articles, made in a time when glue had taken the place of joints and when machine-made carving had ruined the trade of hand carving. The "Eastlake" pieces of furniture herewith may, however, be regarded as good illustrations of the principle of "constructive truth." Still more important examples of this law may, however, be found in all good historic architecture. All objects of large size in furniture should be designed on architectural principles. As regards the frank exhibition of the carpentry construction and framework and the preference for the natural-wood surface and graining as against the use of artificial veneers, what may be called the skeleton of construction should generally determine the main lines of the piece.

We may here mention the principles controlling the proper use of ornament in architecture, furniture, utensils, and dress. Ornament should emphasize the points of support and pressure, the terminal points, joints, seams, outlines, and borders. "All-over" surface ornament is also a phase of constructive use.

As the object becomes more humble in use or smaller in size, the strictness with which the architectural idea is applied should naturally be modified, but the Pompeian survivals of Greek taste in utensils are excellent illustrations of the wide applicability of the principle of constructive emphasis in the use of ornament. We find this principle in the bronze vases, lamps, and even in the kitchen and cooking utensils of Pompeii. The handle of the bronze vase is the first point of departure in its ornamental idea; next come the joints of the handle.

The principle of constructive truth in decorative art is simply one phase of a larger principle which applies to many objects in which a definite type of constructive form is not to be expected-for instance, an inkstand, a saltcellar, a match box, a comb, a pair of bellows, a pair of nutcrackers, an andiron, a lamp, etc. This larger principle is that of uniting utility and beauty to make the ornamental useful and to make the useful ornamental. In all historic periods down to the eighteenth century this principle has been applied to all the humble objects named and to many others. It is seen, for instance, in the Pompeian weight used in ordinary grocery scales, which takes the shape of a human head.

Whenever the use of ornament becomes general, according to principles so far far specified, it is clear that the rules controlling the treatment of life forms in ornament become fundamentally important.

If the nineteenth century had made a wider use of ornamental carving, it would be more accustomed to the treatment known as the conventional, one of whose phases is that of the grotesque. Contrary to widespread preconceived ideas natural to modern thought, the realistic or naturalistic treatment of life forms is generally improper in decoration.

One of the reasons for this principle relates to the unnatural appearance of a natural animal or human form which forms one portion of an object of use. Take the leg of an Italian trousseau chest as example. It has the imaginary and grotesque form of a griffin. As joined to the rest of the piece of furniture and

forming a necessary part of it, a real animal or human form would be an absurdity in such a place. We are not dealing with a piece of sculpture, with a work of art having an independent mission. Under the given circumstances to demand the realistic treatment is to ask that the legs should cost more money and effort than the whole piece besides. It would be to ask the genius and science of a great sculptor from the trade of the cabinetmaker. The principle of subordination-that the part is less than the whole and less important than the whole-is one principle at stake. Another is the unnatural appearance of a natural form forming only one part of a constructive form. Still another is the principle requiring pronounced visibility in ornamental forms. The angular, the rigid, the sharply defined forms necessary to the effect of decorative carving are rarely compatible with realistic rendering of nature. In the Pompeiian survivals of Greek art we find the drunken Silenus and the fawn with legs of a goat confined to decorative objects, lamps, and the like. The full-size Greek statue avoids the intoxicated Silenus or the fawn with goat's legs. This brings us back to the principle of subordination under another guise, i. e., the distinction between ideal art, or art for art's sake, and art for the sake of decoration. The field of the sublime and ideally beautiful is not, generally speaking, that of decorating utensils and objects of daily use, but in these the play of the imagination may generally have its share in the guise of the grotesque. We find the Gorgon head, but never the head of Minerva, on the handles of a Greek vase.

Illustrations of conventional or grotesque treatment may be found in this Mexican stirrup, having the form of a human head, and in nutcrackers of the seventeenth century Renaissance.

The use of the reptilian form in ornament as seen in Palissy ware, in ancient jewelry, and in the faïence of the Renaissance reflects the fact that the reptilian form verges on the grotesque, and here we find not only the idea of subordination but also the fact that the reptile form is more striking to the eye and therefore most available among animal forms for decorative use. The use of the dramatic mask in place of the human face in antique and Renaissance art is another apt illustration. It may be also noted that the periods most fertile in grotesque decorative art have been also those in which spiritual and ideal beauty were most highly appreciated and most successfully represented in their own appropriate sphere. The periods of Phidias and of Raphael are those most fertile in the creation of the grotesque in ornamental art.

We may next consider some points relating to appropriate treatment of a given material. Highly arbitrary forms due to the momentary and necessarily arbitrary impulse of the glass blower are beautiful in Venetian glass, but wholly improper in pottery, metal, or wood. A jar handle wholly beautiful in metal may be wholly improper in pottery. The sense of weight, the feeling that an object is becoming cumbersome, would forbid copying the form of a lamp with a cylindrical porcelain body in the same dimension in metal. In metal the treatment should be that befitting the appearance of a material that is ductile and pliable during manufacture. Angular and heavy designs should be avoided in this material. The contrasts here offered are those between recent American chandeliers, some of better and some of inferior taste.

Finally we notice the general inadvisability of direct copying of historic forms for modern decorative art, however valuable may be the lessons to be learned from them. Such copies generally overlook the principles observed by the originals. A Pompeian lamp designed for oil and wick is an inappropriate form for a chandelier using gas. An Ionic capital is hardly appropriate as the support of a cruet stand. The Parthenon frieze is out of place on a cake casket. The illustrations show these mistakes in recent designs of American silverware.

In closing my remarks let me say that I know them to be largely of a character

not directly related to the elementary teaching work in manual training; but as long as we confine the education of teachers to the points necessary to the elementary teachers' work in the direct education of children we shall never achieve great educational results. It is the atmosphere surrounding children which we should consider as more important than direct teaching. What they learn directly is not so important as the influence of the teacher's taste exerted insensibly and unconsciously. This is the taste to be created and developed first-the taste of the teacher and the parent. It is undeniable that this taste has been generally lacking in the civilized nations of the nineteenth century, excepting in so far as the art revival of the last forty years has striven to create it, and it is equally undeniable that this art revival was inspired by the continental interest in historic examples.

III.

THE OLYMPIC GAMES OF 1896.

The revival of the Olympic games, one of the most notable events of 1896, is due to the enthusiasm and persistence of Baron Pierre de Coubertin. This gentleman traveled extensively in Europe and in the United States to rouse interest in the project, and at a meeting of the delegates of the athletic associations of all countries, assembled at Paris in 1894,1it was agreed that the games should be instituted. For the execution of the purpose, an international committee was appointed. The first presidency was assigned to M. Bikelas, a Greek, since in his country the revival of the games was to be first celebrated. The presidency will fall in succession to a representative of the country in which the next games are to be held. Under this arrangement, Baron de Coubertin, the founder, has become the second president, the next contest having been appointed to take place at Paris during the exposition of 1900.

The first celebration opened at Athens, April 6, 1896. The scene and the spirit of the occasion are happily reproduced in the following letters, penned on the spot by Baron de Coubertin, and reproduced, with his permission, from the Journal des Débats, in which they originally appeared.

The roll of the victors is quoted from an article by the same author published in the Century Magazine for November, 1896.

"The Athenians enjoy this year a twofold spring; it warms at the same time the illuminated atmosphere and the popular spirit; it gives life to the small, fragrant flowers that force their way between the marble slabs of the Parthenon and imparts a smile of satisfaction to the lips of the proud 'Palakares' (champions of the people). The sun shines and the Olympic games are at hand. Nothing remains of the irony and fears of the last year. The skeptics are silent and the Olympic games have no more enemies. French, Russian, American, German, Swedish, and English flags are for sale on every hand. The Attic breeze joyously raises its light folds, and men in 'fustanellas,' who lounge before the picturesque show windows of the rue d' Hennes, rejoice at the spectacle. They know that the whole world is coming (l'univers va venir') and approve of the preparations made for their appropriate reception. These preparations are manifold. Everywhere the marbles are scraped, new plaster and fresh paints are put on, the pavers are at work, and people are busy cleaning and decorating. The street of the stadion is a fine sight, with its triumphal arch and Venetian masts. Its

1 Since the close of the first celebration at Athens of the Olympic games revived by the International Congress at Paris in 1894 it was decided to strike off a medal commemorative of this congress. Copies will be sold (Florentine bronze, 12 francs; old silver, 25 francs) strictly to persons who participated in the work of the congress or in its organization. The disposition of the medals will be made on some ceremonial occasion, the date of which will be ultimately fixed. The work is in charge of M. Maurice Borel, 32 Avenue Montaigne, Paris, France.