ment. Society is an organism; a part cannot flourish at the expense of the whole. Each function attains its maximum excellence in the perfect action and interaction of the others. At that grand wedding supper in which the senses are to be married to the soul all men are invited guests, and to each belongs a share in the feast. In taking this position democracy breaks with the traditions of the past. For from the days of Aristotle down two propositions have been accepted almost as self-evident truths the one that the majority of mankind are too dull to repay any strenuous effort in the line of their intellectual development; the second that, even if this were not so, society is too poor to support more than a few persons in that life of tranquil leisure which is indispensable to the successful pursuit of science and art. The many, one still hears it frequently said, must spend their days in physical toil and the atmosphere of sordid cares in order that the few may dwell exempt in the pure region of contemplation, in the society of immutable courses. The multitude must pass their lives in intellectual night in order that the light of culture may burn brightly at least in a few favored places.

answer to the second proposition, that society is too poor to exempt any considerable number of its members from physical drudgery, it points to the vast increase of wealth which has come in the train of labor-saving inventions and to the prospect that a more equable distribution of this wealth will in time place sufficient leisure for continued self-culture within the reach even of the humblest. Admitting that genius and even first-rate talent will always be rare, democracy uses the following argument for the culture of the masses. It is conceded that successful intellectual effort of any kind depends as much on favorable environment as on original endowment. Now the masses of the people constitute the environment, as it were, of the men of genius or talent who appear among them. It is indispensable that the environment— that is, the masses- be rightly influenced to obtain the highest possible results. Thus the rise of a truly national art in America will depend not only on the advent of a few fine souls who shall be capable of expressing the spirit of American life in tone, form, and color, but upon the existence of an educated taste among the American people as a whole,

on which the artist may rely to control, inspire, and sustain his efforts. The same is true in regard to American science. The larger the number of persons able to appreciate the best mental work, the greater and more varied the stimulus imparted to those who are capable of doing such work.

And again: the higher the standards of morality which are erected among the people, the more exalted will be the character of the public men of America, the nobler the principles which they confess and to which they conform. Turn in whatever direction we will the same truth meets us, the stream of spiritual endeavor cannot rise higher than its source. And the source is the people, the whole people, in whom is embodied the national life, of which the individual life is but a temporary expression. Thus even if popular culture will not greatly increase the amount of genius in the world, though some are sanguine enough to believe that it may, it will supply the basis on which genius must rest for its support, the fertile soil in which the flower of high thinking and fine feeling will flourish as it has never done before. It is the mission of democracy to create a new environment for the grander evolution of the spiritual life.

From this point of view the higher democracy assigns to the public school an altogether new and larger aim. It is the business of the school to cultivate every individual pupil as an individual; to develop, not some particular faculty, but, so far as possible, every one of his faculties; to liberate all the powers of mind and heart latent within him; so to educate him that he may become, not a breadwinner, but a man. The true man will also be an able breadwinner, but he will be much more besides. It is the business of the schools to produce the finest possible specimens of manhood and womanhood, just as the gardener aims to produce fine specimens of fruit or flowers. Elementary education must become a liberal education.

Touching the matter, a scheme of manual training is included in the course of studies. This scheme is planned for children between the ages of six and fourteen. The materials used are clay, pasteboard, wood, and metal, in the order mentioned. The educational objects aimed at are to cultivate the eye and the hand, to develop skill, to call out the active side of the pupil's nature. The series of workshop lessons is carefully graded, and so arranged as to fit in with other branches of instruction, especially geometry and drawing. Upon this organic relation of the school workshop to the classroom the greatest stress is laid. Because it does not satisfy in this particular, the Swedish slöjd is not used. Hand culture, apart from its value per se, is a means towards a more effective brain culture; the shop lesson is an advance on the so-called object lesson. The latter is based on the principle that the pupil shall learn the elementary properties of things by observing them; the former, on the principle that the pupil shall learn the properties of things by making the things, by toiling over them.

Modeling in clay, in connection with freehand drawing and designing, is employed to cultivate the taste. The results obtained in this department by children twelve years old, and even younger, are surprising. The artistic capacity of the American people has been likened to the deposits of the precious metals underneath our hills, which remained so long undiscovered but yielded an astonishing return the moment they were systematically mined. The delight in beautiful things, and the feeling for art which we have discovered in a brief experience among some of the poorest children of the tenement-house class of New York, seem to indicate that this comparison is not entirely extravagant. The principle upon which instruction in art is based is essentially the same as that stated above; namely, to cultivate a taste for beautiful objects by the reproduction of those objects.

1 This institution was founded in January, 1878. The name Workingman's School implies that it is primarily intended for the children of working people. Instruction is gratuitous, only children whose parents are too poor to pay a tuition fee being admitted. The VOL. XXXVIII.-123.

A course of unsectarian instruction in morals has been mapped out for the school and will shortly be introduced. In the series of moral

number of pupils at present is about 350. The school and kindergarten are maintained by a society called the United Relief Works of the Society for Ethical Culture. See an Open Letter in this magazine for June, 1888.

lessons thus outlined care has been taken to avoid all disputed points of theology or metaphysics, and to confine attention solely to that important body of moral truths in regard to which all good men are happily agreed.

The method of the school is identical in all its branches. Since the main purpose is to give an "all 'round culture," — that is, to develop the faculties of the child harmoniously,- and since a faculty is strengthened by its exercise, the method everywhere is to excite the pupils to self-activity. Hence our anxiety in the science department to make the laboratory method available for elementary instruction. Hence our eagerness to put tools into the hands of the little workmen six years old. Hence in the teaching of history, geography, etc., our determination to exclude as far as possible the use of text-books, to deprive teacher and pupils alike of those props of indolence, to make them construct their text-books as they go along.

It is the mission of the school to convert potential into kinetic mental energy; to build up faculty and ever and only faculty; to be, in the Socratic phrase, "the midwife" of the soul in its process of self-manifestation. It does not attempt to load the memory of its pupils with facts, it is not solicitous about the amount of positive knowledge which they may carry away with them; it is satisfied to train them in such a way that they may be able later on to attain the ends of knowledge and virtue, to whatever degree their nature permits, through their own exertions. The school is a gymnasium of the faculties. This, I think, in a single phrase expresses its character.

The extension of the subject-matter and the change in the method of instruction thus described lead to certain incidental advantages, among which the following may be mentioned: 1. The alternation of manual with mental labor is stimulating. Change of occupation is proverbially almost as refreshing as rest. The pupils pass from the shop to the classroom, and

conversely, with new zeal and zest for their tasks in either department. 2. The range of studies, including so much that is concrete and capable of presentation to the senses, affords an excellent choice of subjects for English composition, and constant contact with realities re-acts beneficially on the formation of style. 3. The habits of order, exactness, and perseverance fostered by manual training have an incalculable moral value. 4. Many pupils who seem hopelessly defective on the literary side prove to be "easily first" in the shop, in the modeling-class, etc. Finding that they can do some one thing well their self-respect is restored, and they acquire new confidence and courage to try harder even in those branches in which they have hitherto failed. In this way the shop has been the means of saving souls; that is, of saving children who under the ordinary system would have been regarded, and who gradually would have learned to regard themselves, as hopeless dunces. 5. The variety of educational instruments placed at the disposal of the pedagogue by the new system helps to solve the difficult and delicate problem of the pupil's future vocation. These new educational aids are all so many questions addressed to the child's nature. They help the thoughtful teacher to discover the child's bent, the direction in which it should receive its special training later on. For this is perhaps the gravest charge which can be brought against the prevalent methods, that they take too little account of the specific differences by which human beings are distinguished from one another, and endeavor to fashion all alike upon a preconceived and arbitrary pattern. And this, doubtless, is the highest aim which the educator can set himself: to be not a master but an interpreter of nature, to guide it in the way it would go, to regard every child committed to his charge as a distinct manifestation of the Infinite, and to transform into. beneficent reality the divine possibilities of which it is the vehicle.

Felix Adler.

H. S. Sanford, Jr.

intervention. When I answered: "Well, what do you expect? This is not their quarrel," he raved at me, ending by a declaration that he would willingly pay my passage to foreign parts if I would like to go. "Rob," said his father, "keep cool; don't let that threat excite you. Cotton is king. Just wait till they feel the pinch a little; their tone will change." I went to Trinity Church. Some Union people who are not Episcopalians go there now because the pastor has not so much chance to rail at the Lord when things are not going to suit; but yesterday was a marked Sunday. The usual prayer for the President and Congress was changed to the "governor and people of this commonwealth and their representatives in convention assembled."

The city was very lively and noisy this evening with rockets and lights in honor of secession. Mrs. F., in common with the neighbors, illuminated. We walked out to see the houses of others gleaming amid the dark shrubbery like a fairy scene. The perfect stillness added to the effect, while the moon rose slowly with calm splendor. We hastened home to dress for a soirée, but on the stairs Edith said, "G., first come and help me dress Phoebe and Chloe (the negro servants). There is a ball to-night in aristocratic colored society. This is Chloe's first introduction to New Orleans circles, and Henry Judson, Phoebe's husband, gave five dollars for a ticket for her." Chloe is a recent purchase from Georgia. We superintended their very stylish toilets, and Edith said, "G., run into your room, please, and write a pass for Henry. Put Mr. D.'s name to it." "Why, Henry is free," I said. "That makes no difference; all colored people must have a pass if out late. They choose a master for protection and always carry his pass. Henry chose Mr. D., but he 's lost the pass he had."

II.

THE VOLUNTEERS.-FORT SUMTER.

Feb. 24, 1861.-The toil of the week is ended. Nearly a month has passed since I wrote here. Events have crowded upon one another. On the 4th the cannon boomed in honor of Jefferson Davis's election, and day before yesterday Washington's Birthday was made the occasion of another grand display and illumination, in honor of the birth of a new nation and the breaking of that Union which he labored to cement. We drove to the race-course to see the review of troops. A flag was presented to the Washington Artillery by ladies. Senator Judah Benjamin made an impassioned speech. The banner was orange satin on one side, crimson silk on the other, the pelican and brood embroidered in pale green and gold.

Silver crossed cannon surmounted it, orangecolored fringe surrounded it, and crimson tassels drooped from it. It was a brilliant, unreal scene; with military bands clashing triumphant music, elegant vehicles, high-stepping horses, and lovely women richly apparelled.

Wedding cards have been pouring in till the contagion has reached us; Edith will be married next Thursday. The wedding dress is being fashioned, and the bridesmaids and groomsmen have arrived. Edith has requested me to be special mistress of ceremonies on Thursday evening, and I have told this terrible little rebel, who talks nothing but blood and thunder, yet faints at the sight of a worm, that if I fill that office no one shall mention war or politics during the whole evening, on pain of expulsion.

March 10, 1861.-The excitement in this house has risen to fever heat during the past week. The four gentlemen have each a different plan for saving the country, and now that the bridal bouquets have faded, the three ladies have again turned to public affairs; Lincoln's inauguration and the story of the disguise in which he traveled to Washington is a never-ending source of gossip. The family board being the common forum, each gentleman as he appears first unloads his pockets of papers from all the Southern States, and then his overflowing heart to his eager female listeners, who in turn relate, inquire, sympathize, or cheer. If I dare express a doubt that the path to victory will be a flowery one, eyes flash, cheeks burn, and tongues clatter, till all are checked up suddenly by a warning rap for "Order, order!" from the amiable lady presiding. Thus we swallow politics with every meal. We take a mouthful and read a telegram, one eye on table, the other on the paper. One must be made of cool stuff to keep calm and collected, but I say but little. This war fever has banished small talk. Through all the black servants move about quietly, never seeming to notice that this is all about them.

"How can you speak so plainly before them?" I say.

"Why, what matter? They know that we shall keep the whip-handle."

April 13, 1861.- More than a month has passed since the last date here. This afternoon I was seated on the floor covered with loveliest flowers, arranging a floral offering for the fair, when the gentlemen arrived and with papers bearing news of the fall of Fort Sumter, which, at her request, I read to Mrs. F.

April 20.-The last few days have glided away in a halo of beauty. But nobody has time or will to enjoy it. War, war! is the one idea. The children play only with toy cannons and soldiers; the oldest inhabitant goes by every