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 THE LIBRARY 
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 W \S1I I \(i I ON I l{\ I NC. 
 
 ^a,,^ 
 
 J%
 
 Education in Chaeleston.— The Swi ia 
 iadebted to Mayor Courtenay, of Charleston, 
 for exceedingly interesting publications iu 
 xeferflDce to education in that city, includ- 
 ing articles on "Manual Training in Com- 
 mon Schools," an essay on the value of clas- 
 sical learning by the late Hugh S. Legare, 
 and the reports of the State and city pub- 
 lie schools, academics and hi^h schools, 
 together with » sketch of the history 
 of the Collf o;8 of Charleston, over which 
 Prof. Henry E. Shepherd, formerly of this 
 « ity, has been called to preside. The chief 
 value, however, of Mayor Courtenay's re- 
 -view of the school work of the year paat is 
 in the evidence it contains of the possibility, 
 by proper procedure, of enlisting the best 
 intelligence and character of a munici- 
 pality in behalf of its educational in- 
 terests. The hand of the politician 
 18 not traceable anywhere in the oubli- 
 cationa before us, either in the theories 
 of education adopted, the books prescribed 
 the teachers appointed, the work done, or 
 the eipense incurred. The Charleston 
 Bchools are conducted, it would appear, in 
 the broadest and most liberal spirit, so that 
 they are to-day fully equal in progressive- 
 ness and efficiency to any in the United 
 States. That this is the case is evidenced 
 ! among other things by the intelligent dis- 
 ycusaion given in the school board reports to ' 
 (the pressing educational problems of the 
 J day. ■f^ * « In the light of these facts it 
 would appear that the change that took 
 place ia 1876 was an advantageous one,— 
 jffaltimore Su7i.
 
 1 882.] SOME CAUSES OF FAILURE AMONG TEACHERS. 93 
 
 The future of the commonwealth depends upon the teacher ; he 
 molds the men and women of the future. What teachers are to their 
 profession, that it will be ; what it is, that will the youth of our land 
 become ; and what they become, determines the whole future of the 
 state, — nay, more, of all states, of eternity itself. Whatever our 
 religious tenets, we must believe in an immortality of influence ; and 
 theeforcesthat teachers set at work to-day in their pupils will cease 
 to act only when soul ceases to impress soul.
 
 94 
 
 EDUCATION. [Sept. 
 
 HOX. n\]f. A. COCRTENAV, CHARLESTOX, S. C. 
 
 We present with this issue a likeness of Mayor William A. Courtenay, of 
 Charleston, S. C. He was born in that city on February 4, 1831, and at 
 the a<^e of 14 went into business with a very limited education. Jn the 
 period between 1S50 and i860 he conducted, with his brother, an extensive 
 and ver>' successful publishing and book-selling business in Charleston, and 
 eagerly availed himself of the opportunity for reading which his surround- 
 ing's afforded. He here formed the acquaintance of many of the leading 
 professional and literary men of that cultured community, and profited 
 greatly by his intercourse with them. It was remarked at that time that he 
 associated mainly with men older than himself. In the spring of i860 he 
 was invited to assume the business management of the Charleston Mercury, 
 and on October i entered upon these duties. In a few weeks his ability as 
 an ort^anizer and manager made itself felt, and the business affairs of the 
 paper were administered with the most satisfactory results to the proprietors. 
 While here employed, the great fire of December, 1861, swept through the 
 city. Although without previous training or experience, he undertook to 
 report this disastrous conflagration in great detail. Beginning on Cooper 
 River at the foot of Hasel street, where the fire originated, he followed its 
 course on foot to Ashley River on the southwest, and in a report, embracing 
 ten or twelve columns of the Mercury, he gave the boundaries of the fire, 
 the names of the owners and occupants of houses, names of streets and 
 numbers of the houses, and brief descriptions of churches, buildings, and 
 noted residences destroyed. This was the only account of the calamity 
 published in Charleston on so complete a scale, and attracted considerable 
 attention at the time. Although not connected with the editorial staff, he 
 was a frequent contributor to the paper, and improved himself very much 
 as a writer by this privilege. At the close of 1S61 he left the Mercury and 
 entered the Confederate army, where he served until its surrender in 1S65' 
 After the war. Mayor Courtenay, like the rest of the men of the South, 
 found himself in poverty. As former employments were not yet possible, 
 his first work was to diive a wagon for freight through the desolated region 
 between Newbury and Orangeburg, S. C, a distance of eighty miles. The 
 railroads having been destroyed, this was the only transportation possible 
 for many months. From this beginning he established, while residing at 
 Newbury, an extensive and profitable forwarding business. When the 
 railroads were rebuilt these profits of course disappeared, and in the spring 
 of 1 866 he returned to Charleston, 'A'here he soon became the manager of 
 steamship lines from that port to New York and Philadelphia, and still con- 
 tinues to hold that position. While a democrat i«i politics, Mayor Courtenay 
 has been distinguished by the liberality of his views, and as Captain of the
 
 
 
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 1 882.] HON. WM. A. COURTENAY, CHARLESTON, S. C. 95 
 
 Washington Light Infantry he was greatly instrumental in the acceptance of 
 invitations which resulted in the presence of that historic corps at the cen- 
 tennial celebrations at Bunker Hill and Philadelphia, an exchange of mil- 
 itary courtesy which was productive of the kindliest feelings. 
 
 No Southern city suffered more than Charleston during the war. Fires 
 Were frequent ; shot and shell had done their ravaging work ; fifty millions 
 of real and personal property had sunk to less than twenty millions. The 
 subsequent rule of the military and the ignorant had further unsettled public 
 and private affairs ; the city debt had greatly increased. As late as 1879 
 grave apprehensions were expressed as to city affairs. In the municipal 
 election occurring that year, for a term of four years, strenuous effort was 
 made to secure a strong business administration. Mr. Courtenay was 
 selected to make this laborious canvass, which continued six months, and 
 resulted in his election, with an excellent Board of Aldermen. Since then 
 great changes have taken place. City securities have advanced fifty per 
 cent. The debt has been materially reduced. Business is conducted in all 
 departments on strictly mercantile principles. Miles of stone roadway have 
 been laid ; real estaie values show a marked advance. The annual average 
 cost of the city government, from 1870-1879, was $800,000, while since 
 1879 it has been $650,000. 
 
 In addition to these beneficial reforms, what has most distinguished Mayor 
 Courtenay since his entrance upon his administration has been the active 
 interest he has displayed in the cause of education. Before the war, owing 
 to the social condition of the South where no large middle class existed, 
 and the leading portion of the community were able to give their children 
 the costliest advantages, the common school system was neither well under- 
 stood nor generally established. To this general rule Charleston has 
 always been a notable exception, and has been distinguished from the 
 earliest times by its enlightened and liberal policy in all matters that con- 
 cern education. As long ago as 181 1, when the General Assembly of South 
 Carolina passed an act authorizing the establishment of public schools, the 
 allotment to Charleston was a fund of $5,100 and five teachers. In 1S80 
 the fund had grown to $62,000, and the number of teachers to ninety-one, 
 and in that year the white pupils attending these schools numbered 2,079 
 and the colored 2,069. I^^ i860 the number of white children in the public 
 schools was about 4,000, so that by the addition of the colored population, 
 although the number of possible school-children has doubled, the number 
 of children attending the schools has remained the same. The five public 
 schools, crowded as they are by the present attendance, do not afford ac- 
 commodations for more than half the school population of the city. This 
 fact exists in spite of the large fund above mentioned, 40 per cent, of which 
 is annually collected by a voluntary extra tax on city property to supple- 
 ment the constitutional State tax of two mills. Charleston, in a word, is 
 taxed for purposes of education more than half as much again as Boston, 
 a city the reputation of whose schools is world-wide ; and although the
 
 cf> EDUCATIO.W [Sept. 
 
 colore<l population po^- hut a ven' small percentage of this taxation, their 
 schools receive over 50 per cent, of the fund expended on education. 
 
 These interesting facts we derive from Mayor Courtenay's annual report 
 of 1S79-1SS0. Devoting a large space to the consideration of education 
 in Charleston, he gives a most exhaustive review of the history and present 
 condition in that city, depicts the sacrifices which are being made by a 
 population impoverished by war and bad government, and closes with a 
 series of masterly arguments and an eloquent appeal in favor of national 
 aid to the public school system at the South. In the latter connection he 
 gives especial consideration to the problem of the education of the colored 
 population, "who," he says, "constitute an exceptional class of our popu- 
 lation. They had no opportunity of obtaining education and acquiring 
 property. They are not responsible for their ignorance. They have had 
 no teachers, and their parents were as ignorant as themselves. They are, 
 therefore, necessarily incompetent to exercise with discretion the elective 
 franchise. Justice to them requires that they should be given that educa- 
 tion which alone can make them responsible citizens in their duties to 
 others and in protecting their own rights." , 
 
 Not only do the views of Mayor Courtenay extend to the establishment 
 of a sufficient number of public schools for the needs of the population, 
 while and black, but it is also his aim that the scope of usefulness of those 
 schools be considerably enlarged. He does not believe in the theory that 
 the obligations of the State to the public schools is fully discharged by 
 teaching the rudiments of reading, writing, and arithmetic. Attention 
 should be paid to the physical as well as the mental training of the pupils. 
 As the public school is not only the nursery for the professional and busi- 
 ness man, but also for the artisan and mechanic, trained muscles and a 
 quick eye, as well as reading, writing, and arithmetic, constitute the capital 
 of a part of the pupils. He is, therefore, a strong advocate of a system of 
 manual training in the public schools, in order that " (i) Pupils may be pre- 
 pared to earn a living more quickly and more readily upon leaving the 
 public schools : (2) that the dignity and importance of manual labor may 
 be appreciated more highly, since pupils will learn that study and prepara- 
 tion are essential to proficiency in the trades ; (3) that training of the body 
 may not be neglected while the intellect is developed." 
 
 But the energies of Mayor Courtenay have not been directed merely to 
 the improvement and enlargement of the common school system, but also 
 to the establishment and advancement of those great facilities for higher 
 education which Charleston possesses. The high school, founded in 1839 
 as a training school preparatory to a business or collegiate life, receives 
 from tJie city $4,000, and has a total income of about $11,000. During 
 Mayor Courtenay's administration this school has been removed to a com- 
 modious building, with over an acre of ground, in the central section of the 
 city, and the course of study entirely remodeled and reorganized. He has 
 aptly illustrated his faith in physical culture by establishing a gymnasium, a
 
 l882.] HON, WM. A. COURTENAV, CHARLESTON, S. C. 9/ 
 
 model structure in size and ventilation, and equipped with the latest ap- 
 paratus for exercise. In charge of an excellent instructor, its influence on 
 the school has been marked by the happiest results. To receive the pupil 
 who may desire a liberal education, after his course at the high school is 
 finished, the College of Charleston stands ready. This institution has at 
 present the entire income of $300,000 applicable to its support, occupies 
 an entire square, with extensive buildings, a valuable museum of natural 
 history, and a library. 
 
 Before the war one of the most distinguished educational institutions at 
 the South was the State Military Academy of South Carolina. Established 
 in 1842 and closed in 1865 by the necessity of the times, during the twenty- 
 three years of its history it was celebrated for the thoroughness of its train- 
 ing and the high character and extended influence of its graduates. Since 
 the close of the war the buildings have been in the possession of the United 
 States Government. For several years past Mayor Courtenay has been 
 among the most active and effective workers for the reestablishment of this 
 great academy. Even before his election, at his suggestion as Captain, the 
 Washington Light Infantry dedicated the 22d of February, 1879, to the 
 presentation, through their orator, of this institution to the favorable con- 
 sideration of the Legislature and people. As a result of these and other 
 efforts the academy will reopen in Charleston on the ist of October with 
 one hundred and fifty cadets from all parts of South Carolina. The course 
 of study as nearly as possible resembles that of West Point, is highly 
 scientific and technical, with modern languages in addition. It is a sig- 
 nificant fact that the orator of the Washington Light Infantry anniversary 
 of 1879, the State Superintendent of Education, in a little more than three 
 years afterward, is unanimously nominated for Governor of South Caro- 
 lina with a popular enthusiasm throughout the State which heralds his cer- 
 tain election. 
 
 Mayor Courtenay's annual report of education of 1879-1880 is well sup- 
 plemented by that of 1880-1881. The former is devoted to the public 
 schools, while the latter discusses the advantages of Charleston for higher 
 education, the importance of physical training in education, and appeals for 
 the generous establishment of scholarships and foundations to confer a 
 " blessing on hundreds of boys who might otherwise grow up neglected in 
 their preparations for the duties of life." The two reports are a revelation 
 in themselves to any one interested in education at the South. With the 
 conspicuous advantages enjoyed by Charleston, as set forth in the report of 
 1880-1881, there is still wanting that unity of administration which can 
 alone assure the full measure of success. To establish a system of school 
 government which shall include the public schools, the high school, the 
 college, and the military institute, Mayor Courtenay is taking active 
 measures, and, supported as he is by influential cisizens, will doubtless ac- 
 complish it. An important step has been taken in this direction by the 
 appointment of Mr. Shepherd, for many years Superintendent of Education
 
 98 EDL'CATIOX. [Sept. 
 
 of Baltimore, to the presidency of the College of Charleston ; and by making 
 this office include the supervisorship of the high school of Charleston, 
 where a complete unification of school government is established, it is the 
 hope and ambition of Mayor Courtenay that, with her institutions of learn- 
 ing on a sound financial basis, and under the supervision of one body, 
 with able instructors and numerous pupils, Charleston may rise to the dig- 
 nity of an educational centre, and attract to her schools not only the youth 
 of South Carolina, but many from beyond the limits of the State. 
 
 We give this sketch, — although short and imperfect, — because we feel 
 the greatest gratification that in a portion of the South, at least, such good 
 work is being done in the cause of education, and because the Mayor of 
 Charleston is the only municipal executive we know whose highest ambition 
 is in such a cause. He has clearly seen that the salvation of the South 
 must result from the general education of the masses by the common school 
 system, and that home facilities for higher education are doubly valuable 
 because training to the mind is afforded without sending the boy to other 
 cities, where he loses the association of his family and misses a part of his 
 life education which nothing can supply ; nor can we better express our 
 appreciation of him or his work than by quoting his own eloquent words : 
 " May the day soon come when, in response to so earnest solicitation and 
 so grave warning from men who represent the conscience and wisdom of 
 this people, every child in the city and State and throughout the whole 
 South can find an entrance into the school-house, where alone he may be 
 made a freeman and worthy of the trusts and capable of the duties of 
 Aiierican citizenship."
 
 
 EDUCATION IN CHARI.HSTON. 
 
 1882 
 
 MANUAL TRAINING. 
 
 " ist. The introJuctinii into Public Schools of proper appliances for the development of the 
 sense perception of pupils in regard to color, form, projiortion, &c., by contact with models and 
 with natural objects. 
 
 " 2d. The introduction into Grammar Schools of simple physical and chemical experiments, 
 for the purpose of acquainting pupils, through original observation, with the elements of chem- 
 ical and physical science, and their common applications in the arts. 
 
 " 3d. The teaching of drawing, not as an accomplishment, but as a language for the graphic 
 presentation of the facts of forms and of objects ; for the representation of the appearance of 
 oijjects ; and also as a means of developing taste in industrial design. 
 
 '■4th. The introduction into Grammar and High Schools of instruction in the use of tools, 
 not for their application in any particular trade or trades, but for developing skill of hand in 
 the fundamental manipulations connected with the industrial arts, and also as a means of men- 
 tal development." 
 
 PHYSICAL CULTURE. 
 
 " 'J"he erection (pf a gymnasium, constructed and equipped in accordance with the imist ad- 
 vanced ideas, and the appointment of an accomplished teacher of gymnastics, have also con- 
 tributed largely to the efficiency of the school. In my visit, the past summer, to several of the 
 leading schools in New England, I saw no arrangements for physical training which would 
 compare with those provided for the pupils of the High School. All of the boys have improv- 
 ed, and some who were in delicate health are becoming strong and robust." 
 
 .]//-. Dil'l'lcs Ilish School Ki/>ort. 
 
 CLASSICAL AND SCIENTIFIC STUDIES. 
 
 Professor Seeley, author of Ecce Ifoiiio^ sums up the controversy in a single .sentence, which 
 is both terse and clear. " H there is any result which may be said to have been fairly attained 
 in the controversy, it is this — that science must come in, and that iaiigiiagc must not g;o out." 
 
 " The argument we so often hear against the study of the ancient languages conveyed in the 
 question, why should I study Greek and Latin when I never e.xpect to have to read a line of 
 either in my business ? is very much as if a pupil in the gymnastic school should ask the teach- 
 er, why he should e.xercise with an Indian club or climb a pole when he never expects to use 
 the one or climb the other in his business?" 
 
 The NE^vs ;\.nd Courier Job Tkesses, Cii.\klesto.\, S. C.
 
 i;iHr.\T|iiN l.\ ( MAKI.I-STO.X.S. C. 
 
 fON I 1. N IS. 
 I — Maxl'.vi. Tk\i\ix<; KKfOMMF.SKF.D IN Common Sfiiooi.s — Ii> I'KAt - 
 ric.vi. Oi'KRATiuN IN iiiK \VokKiN(;M an's Sciiooi in Nf.w VuUK. 
 
 II_Sl'rERINTE\l)ENT SiMONS' RKI'OKT OI- II 1 V I'l Itl.K SCHOOLS. 
 
 Ill— II MMiNioN CiiLKLii Insihl IK— Cahiui.k Schools— Wai - 
 
 i!s..i.iAi> A«AiiKMV— Avery Normal Inshh ii:. 
 
 1^ -!■' liiii- Sriiooi. Work l\ SoiTH Carolina in 1S62. ik«'M mi An- 
 
 \r\i Rei'ort or THE State Siterintenijent ui- Edicaiion. 
 V— \ iiir. Rlv. a. 1>. Maso, 1). !>., i.i Ciiaki i-.sion. 
 
 \ I— Art' o|- GiiNERAi. As,EMiii.v Rearkan(;ini: Cirv School IJistku is 
 AND Providing i-ou a New School Moakd ai iiie Minkipai 
 Klkction 1)eckmi!ER. 1SS3. 
 VII — Annial Rei'Ort ok High School— Classics and I'uvsicai. Ccl- 
 
 11 RT. LEADING 1-EATLRES. 
 
 \!li— liiE College ok Ciiaklesion — Koinued 1785— The kacii.ities ir 
 
 AH-ORDS rOR LlIiKRAI. I'lH < A lloN AI IIoMK, AND IIS Cl VIMS I loN 
 THE COMMLMIV. 
 
 I\ — Reopening ok the Ciiadei. Academy OcioiiKi; isr, 1SS2. 
 X — (.i.vssicAL Learnin<;— An Kssay iiy hie i.aie IIu.n. High S. I.l- 
 
 r:ARE, KROM IIIE SOC IIIEKN REVIEW, 1S2S. 
 
 .MANTAL 'IKAlMNd. 
 
 W'c send our children and our Nouth to school lo educate 
 tlieiii : that is. to train them to develop their faculties, and 
 to teach them such thincjsas we think will be of use to them 
 in whatever path of life their future lots ma\- be c.\st. To 
 teach these elementary branches — knowled^je needed alike 
 by rich and by ]ioor — is the promise of the rublic School. 
 Reading, writing;, and arithmetic have for ajj^es, by common 
 consent of schoolmen evcr)'whcre, been assigned as indis- 
 pensable branches of learning, and, in fact, nian\- have re- 
 stricted the uses of the Public Schools to these three ele- 
 ments. The tendency of our da\', however, has been to 
 broaden this limited course, and room has been made in 
 almost all common schools for geography, grammar, history
 
 (L^^Ai^" 
 
 Rdiicotioii in C/i'irirs/oii. 
 
 and composition. This is well, and worthy of commenda- 
 tion, but there is still considerable room for further im])ro\'c- 
 mcnt. There are other branches of knowledtje that have 
 hitlierto been neglected, have not been thought necessary 
 in the curriculum of the common school, which, it seems to 
 
 
 ■Any particular trade or tiadjs, but \o\- developing skill of 
 hand in the fundamental m;ini[nilalioas connected with the 
 indu^ti-ial arts, and also as a mi\ins of mental dc\-clon;nent." 
 
 The recommendations of this Committee met w ith my 
 hearty approval. Object teaching, now so extremely prac- 
 ticed in the Kindergarten, would seem to mc as of at least 
 as much importance in schools for children of larger growth, 
 
 550941
 
 ll WL- c>iii uach a boy to liclp liinisclf; if we ctliicatc his 
 cvc to observe, and train his hand, even w ith only a mod- 
 erate decree of skill, to execute the bitldin^ of his mind, 
 we shall have conferred a ^reat boon, not so much for what 
 he has actually learned, as for havinij put him in the way of 
 teachin<T himself alter he shall liave left school. If a bov is 
 to pursue even a professional career, object lessons im- 
 pressed upon his mind in tender )'ears will always stand 
 him in i^ood stead ; w hethcr he is to be a lawyer, physic- 
 ian, teacher or clerg\'man, the time spent in obtaininj]^ a 
 knowledf^e of drawin;^ and of the elements of physics, will 
 not have been spent in vain; ami of still greater use will 
 this preparation be io him if ho is to be a farmer, an 
 engineer and artisan, or even a sailor. Indeed, it is not too 
 much to assert, that there is no vocation a man ma)- be en- 
 gaged in, after he has entered upon the struggle of life, in 
 which a knowledge of drawing cannot at some time or 
 Other be extremely useful to him. So it is, and certainly 
 to a greater degree, in regard to the abilit\' to handle the 
 more simple mechanical tools. I have known men who 
 were graduates of colleges and of scientific schools, who did 
 not know how to drive a nail into a board fence. The 
 great majority of the boys of our Public Schools, will, in all 
 probability, be mechanics or farmers; some will have to do 
 with railroad construction or management ; with steamboats 
 or telegraphs; and all, as already stated, will have been ad- 
 vanced by having learned at school the use of hammer and 
 saw, square and plane. We are told by the press, and wc 
 see it from actual observation, that the old apprentice sys- 
 tem in our workshops and factories is rapidly pa'ssing away. 
 Now, unless we make some such provision for the teaching 
 of the rising generation, as I here indicate, we must expect 
 serious difficulties in these matters at no distant day. The 
 want has long been felt; industrial schools and schools of 
 technology are being established at various points North 
 and West, but for us, it seems to mc, the only effectual way 
 of providing for our future is to begin at the beginning, and 
 Iny a gr). d foundation; in other words, to introduce these ^ 
 
 I
 
 Ed /leaf ion ill Chariest. 
 
 oil. 
 
 elements of an industrial education into the curriculum of 
 our common schools. And this can be done. JUit to be 
 done effectually, it must not, as has been vainly tried here 
 and there, be left to the c.iprice of either the children or 
 their parents; it must be incorporated into the rc^L^ular 
 course of studies of the schools; it must be compulsory, just 
 as is spelling, arithmetic, or any other branch taught regularly 
 at the schools. Some such course is the more needed when 
 we bear in mind that the mass of children in the I'ublic 
 Schools do not have the preliminary training of the Kinder- 
 garten, and will not have the opportunity of entering 
 technical or special schools after their course in the J'ublic 
 Schools is finished. In the language of an earnest writer, 
 "for them it is evident that the common school course 
 should include such manual training as will supplement ed- 
 ucation of the brain by education of the hand, a natural 
 development of such culture of the hand and eye as will 
 lead to the best preparation of any form of skilled manual 
 labor. Each step from the first should be educational, and, 
 moreover, should be taken in its proper relation to those- 
 \vhich have preceded, and to those which are to follow. 
 In the second place, the idea oi construction must be wholly- 
 ignored, while that of instruction takes its place. In the 
 third place, the class system should be introduced, whereby 
 one expert or teacher is enabled to impart his instruction to 
 many at the same time. Lastl)', the object sought is not 
 so much the power to do this or that specific thing, as the 
 /;7?///rc/ hand and eye, which shall give to their possessors, 
 the power, t,o do anything within their capabilities. 
 
 The cha-wge from mental to purely industrial application 
 during school hours affords healthful recreation to children, 
 without retardingthe progress or diminishing the amount of 
 necessary school work. The training of hand and eye to 
 precision in doing things which children can understand and 
 can see the immediate application of is legitimate school 
 work, and a long stride towards the object for which all 
 strive in teaching writing and drawing. 
 
 There is, as We all know, a constantly increasing demand
 
 6 Miiyor Courtiitay s Aninuil Rcviciv. 
 
 for results of greater commercial aiul industrial \'alLic from 
 «iiir educational system ; and in the ctnirse of manual in- 
 struction, we have just what is necessary to meet this want. 
 These exercises can be intr()duced not only w ithout detri- 
 ment to intellectual advancement, but as a valuable au.\iliar\- 
 to mental progress. It is not proposed to turn out rcatly 
 made carpenters, brick-layers or engineers from the common 
 schools, as I have already stated, but to teach certain fun- 
 damental operations which maj' be considered the basis of 
 every trade. It is agreed that the practice of a few fundamen- 
 t.d mechaiiical motions is of \ital importance in securing 
 manual dextcrit)'. ]^y special gymnastic exercises, or other- 
 wise, these fundamental motions should be practiced regu- 
 larlv and dailv in the Public Schools: first, because of their 
 value as a means of plu'sical development : second; because 
 of their wage-earning value in after life; and third, because 
 no other place affords the facilities of the school-room for 
 such regular and sj-stematic practice. 
 
 The conservative school-master may object that this is an 
 innovation; that it will ui)sct his admirably arranged plan 
 of studies, and, moreover, will make such an inroad upon the 
 school hours, as to render such a notion altogether impractica- 
 ble. Such objections come up with certaint\- in ever\- change 
 of the traditional curriculum. Wo ina\- be sure, that when 
 it was first proposed to make geography one of the regular 
 free school studies, there were old masters who protested 
 \'ehemcntly that it was unnecessary. 1 do not doubt, how- 
 ever, that the time can be found in a well-digested plan of 
 studies, for this and any (Uher instruction that should be 
 introduced into our schools, and it is maintained b)' advocates 
 of this reform, that the intellectual training derived from 
 skillfully directed manual instruction will fully counter- 
 balance the difterence in the number of study hours. 
 
 These are not speculations; the\' have been reduced tci 
 l)ractice. The Workingman's School of New \'ork has in- 
 stituted a course of this instruction, and Mr. Bamberger. 
 the Principal, presents the follow ing detailed statements of 
 the special features of their scheme of manual training:
 
 Education in Cluvlcston. 
 
 '• III llic school i)re)[)cr, then, \vc seek to bridge over the 
 interval lying- between the preparatory Kindergarten train- 
 ing and the specialized instruction of the technical school, 
 utilizing the school-age itself for the development of indus- 
 trial abilit}'. This, however, is only one characteristic 
 feature of our institution. The other, and the capital one, 
 is, that we seek to combine industrial instruction organically 
 with the ordinary branches of instruction, thus using it not 
 only for the material purpose of creating skill, but also 
 ideally as a factor of mind education. To our kno\vledge, 
 such an application of work instruction has nowhere, as yet, 
 been attempted, either abroad or in this country. 
 
 In practically attacking our problem, however, we were 
 compelled to meet great difficulties. The choice of mateiial 
 for the children's work presented a first difficulty. 
 
 The softest wood is too hard for the delicate fingers of 
 children seven years old, and, moreover, requires the use of 
 heavy and sharp tools, such as are not willingly intrusted 
 to little ones at so tender an age. \Vc finally decided to 
 u.^e clay. Clay, after it has been prepared in a special way 
 for this purpose, is easy to cut and manipulate, does not 
 stick to the tool, and is not brittle enough to break and 
 crumble. This proved entirely successful. 
 
 A complete series of patterns had to be invented, whieli^ 
 might be worked by young pupils out of tliis matericd. 
 Thirt\- such patterns have been produced, and in them we 
 have the system of elementary industrial exercises, with 
 which we begin. These patterns are described in our illus- 
 trations. 
 
 Let us now look at our little workmen at their work. 
 15y means of a simple arrangement the school desks are 
 converted into work-tables. Every child is supplied with a 
 set of cheap and suitable tools. The wofk-lessons occur in 
 the afternoon on two daj-s of the week, and last two hour^ 
 each time. The pupils are obliged to behave as quietly 
 during work as in the other school hours ! only just so much 
 whispering is permitted as is necessary for the requesting 
 and renderinu" of necessary assistance We endeavor to
 
 ,s .]Jin\'i Coiirttiinv's .liiiiiml Ki'i'iitc. 
 
 fjivc the school-rotun ihc air of <\. u cll-coiidiiclcJ workshop. 
 Kach pupil-workman has his own place and tools, for which 
 he is hckl responsible, so far as possible. All begin work 
 simultaneously, and stop at the same moment. 
 
 \Vc now come to the work itself. Plates of ck<y of 
 irregular outline, ten t(j fifteen inches in leni^th and breadth, 
 and about one to one and a half inches thick, are gwcw the 
 
 pupils. 
 
 The first lesson consists in the construction of a sipiare 
 from such a plate. The children place their rulers across 
 one side of it, and with their pointed chisels draw a line 
 alont; the outer edi^e. This is not so easily done as one 
 mii^ht think. The children must jjractice the following 
 precautions: they must apply the ruler correctly, and hold it 
 firmly with the left hand, so that it cannot slip and produce 
 a crooked instead of a straight line ; they must also select 
 the proper tool, and hold it lightly and skillfull)-, if the 
 straight line is reall>- to be faultless. h'inall\-, from the out- 
 set, they must learn to estim.itc tiie amount of their material, 
 and to avoid wastefulness. To this enti the\' are shown 
 how to move the ruler towaid the edge as far as possible, 
 so that none but useless pieces, or, at least, few others, may 
 fall away. When this is done they take up their chisels anil 
 smooth on the outside according to rule, th.it is to say, they 
 learn to wield their tool after the fashion of the master- 
 workman, in the manner in which it most speedily and 
 accurately does its work. If the\' have done this, the 
 cut will show the required perpendicular direction, an im- 
 possibilit\-. if the work has been performed incorrectly <n- 
 awkwardly. I'ach worker thereupon applies his ruler to the 
 .section, and convinces himself that it really is accurate. 
 The side is then completed. 
 
 We come \.o the second part of the work: the scpiare is 
 applied to the plate of clay; the sccoiul adjacent side is 
 ruled, and then chiselled off like the first. Then the 
 children learn the use of a new tool,— the carpenter's square ; 
 they learn the signification of a right angle, and the eye 
 soon grows so accustomed to this new form, that it detects
 
 lidiication in Charlcsto)i. ij 
 
 the slightest deviation from it. Not all, indeed only a few, 
 among- the pupils are able to do this work correctly at 
 first; but after many trials and repeated corrections the lit- 
 tle workman gradually becomes clearly aware of what is re- 
 quired, and how the squares of clay look when they have 
 been marked off perfectly. Now, [)roceeding from a given 
 point, equal portions are taken away on either side. Here 
 the child learns to know and use the rule, and becomes ac- 
 quainted with the simplest lineal measure. The two re- 
 maining sides are constructed in like manner to the first 
 two, and the square is then so far finished. 
 
 We now give the class a number of exercises on the 
 square, by means of Vv'hich, all the properties of this fuiida- 
 mental geometrical figure are rendered more and more 
 familiar to the pupils. Thus, it becomes clear that the 
 square has four sides of ec|ual length and that when one side 
 is knowMi, the length of the others is at once known also. 
 It is further obvious that the square possesses four right 
 angles. Finally, by applying the carpenter's square to all 
 the sides of the clay square successively, it is seen that the 
 opposite sides are equally distant from each other at all 
 points: hence, that they are parallel. 
 
 Further exercises: the children are told tu la\' their 
 rulers diagonally across the squares and draw a line upon 
 the clay. They measure this line, and are asked : Ls it 
 longer or shorter than any one side? Then another 
 diagonal line is dra\\'n, and also measured. How long is 
 this? wc ask. Surprised, and in joyous excitement, they 
 discover that the lines are perfectly equal. They are then 
 told that these lines which they have drawn are the 
 diagonals, and shown that //uy liave tJicinsclvcs proved the 
 diagonal lines in a square to be equal to each other. This was 
 not taught them ; they have found it out for themselves, 
 and will never forget it. The little ones quickly discover 
 that onl}- two diagonals can be drawn in one square, and 
 that these intersect each other at a certain point. They are 
 now^ directed to measure again, and they find that this point 
 and no other is equally distant from the corners, and that 
 o
 
 lo Mtivor Courhnnys Aiunuil A\:/i:i'. 
 
 the diagonals cut each other into halves, l^y application 
 of the carpenter's square the\' now find that aii^.iin there 
 arc four right angles about this point vcentrei. The sides 
 of the square arc likewise divided into halves, and the cen- 
 tral points found. The lines that connect the points must 
 pass through the central point of the square. 
 
 The e.Kercises on the square are continued until the 
 larger number of pupils can make one without assistance, 
 and are perfectly familiar with its properties and relations. 
 It is a matter of course, that the squares are matle in various 
 sizes, according to a specified measure, so that the children 
 ma\' be thoroughly e.\crcised in lineal measure. 
 
 The undersigned, after having taught the lowest class of 
 the school during a whole month, i. e. during sixteen work 
 hours — had the pleasure of seeing that nearly all his pupils 
 were able to handle the clay square according to his expec- 
 tations. Althoufrh the exercises are continualK' made more 
 difficult, it is yet plain that they will be mastered in shorter 
 and shorter time, in proportion as the hands and eyes of the 
 children daily grow more practiced, and what has already 
 been taught, comes up i.i review at almost every fresh stage 
 of acquirement. 
 
 Lesson No. 2 requires the construction of a rectangle. 
 This figure is first accurately described and contrasted with 
 the square alread}' studied. The quickness and correctness 
 with which several of the pupils immediately recognized 
 the essential differences between square and rectangle were 
 a great satisfaction to mc. They noted that the sides are 
 equal in pairs (parallels) ; that the diagonals are equal to 
 each other, but do not intersect at right angles, &c., ^'c. 
 
 New facts and difficulties are successful!}' cncounteretl. 
 Squares and rectangles occur in the most various combin.i- 
 tions; these numbers arc especially adapted for exercising 
 the hand. When the drawing has been made on tlie plate, 
 and by means of the indicated aid lines cut away to about 
 half the plate's thickness, the shaded parts are carved out, 
 and the figure then stands out in relief. See plate I ( i )and (2). 
 
 No. 3 introduces a new form, the triangle, which offers no
 
 I'.diicatioii in Charhston. 1 1 
 
 (lifficultics to the pupil. Preliminary practice may be ob- 
 tained by letting" the pupils divide a square or rectangle 
 diagoflally once or twice, b)' which means cither two oi- 
 four equal triangles will be produced. 
 
 No. 4 represents the three forms — square, rectangle and 
 triangle, in pleasing combination. 
 
 A new scries of lessons begins with No. 5. The pu[)il 
 now for the first tinie makes use of the compass. A regu- 
 lar hexagon is marked off by means of the radius on the 
 circumference of a circle, and then inscribed within it. It 
 is not necessary to dwell on the gain in mathematical 
 knowledge which is here obtained, and all the useful and 
 noteworthy facts that may here be shown. In the illustra- 
 tion itself it is indicated how the central point of the scjuare 
 and rectangle is to be found. 
 
 It is understood that the work of the second school >-ear 
 shall begin with No. 5. This is followed by other num- 
 bers, representing strictly mathematical forms (6) and plate 
 II (7); a mathematical construction, the dividing of a 
 straight line into any number of equal parts (8); and ob- 
 jects of every-day life, in which all the forms hitherto 
 taught appear in the most various combinations, (91, (10), 
 (i T) and (12). 
 
 When the children reach the age of nine, and have al- 
 ready worked for two years, it may be assumed that they 
 possess enough strength and skill to work in wood, and to 
 manage a small saw\ It may here be remarked that this 
 has been proved by the experience of industrial schools in 
 Germany, especially in Saxe Weimar. 
 
 Articles constructed of unbarked wood make a favorable 
 impression when well executed, and their fabrication does 
 not require an unusual degree of skill nor elaborate tools. 
 As regards the latter, a saw, a knife, hammer and nails suf- 
 fice ; for the smaller articles a little glue is requisite. The 
 material may be maple, hawthorn, hazel or similar woods, 
 which are cheap, handy, easy of transportation, and can be 
 manipulated in the school room. These woods are pro- 
 cured in rods of various length, and from one-quarter to one
 
 12 .)/<tror CoiirttHny's Annunl RcviciK.'. 
 
 and a half iiiclK-s in diameter. The articles constructed 
 arc photo'Traph frames, matchboxes, saving boxes, four- 
 footed garden furniture, and a particular three-footci sort. 
 When the pupil has attained his eleventh year, and enters 
 on his fifth school year, he is entrusted with a scroll saw to 
 work in wood, and later on, also, in /.inc. This kind of 
 work is in itself quite eas)', except in its artistic finish, but 
 very important. I lerc, for the first time, the pupil learns 
 to work after a drawings, which drawing- must be thoroughl)- 
 understood. A new feature consists also in the opportu- 
 nity now afforded for designing patlcrus, which tends to de- 
 velop the imagination. It is true that such work in wood 
 and zinc, when not executed by proficient workmen, alwa>s 
 has a rough and unfinished look, the wood being usually 
 poorly cut out, and the various parts inartistically joined 
 together, since it is rare that anyone is able, without special 
 instruction, to round off and smooth the cut edges prop- 
 erl)'. I''or this reason we propose to connect the rudiments 
 of wood-carving with this sort of work. The necessary im- 
 plements for wood-carving are a scroll-saw, drill, gouge and 
 file. The wood and patterns are chcaph' procured ; of the 
 latter, only the copies made by tJic pupils tJuuiscIvcs are 
 used. The work done in zinc is almost new, and little 
 known as jet. It proves a higher step in this species of 
 work. The awl replaces the drill, and a fijundation of 
 wood is used. Remnants of zinc can be bought \\\i cheapU' 
 from tin-ware dealers. The simplest house and kitchen 
 utensils are manufactured, such as put covers, spoons, fr\-- 
 ing pans, strainers, pots, salt cellars, &c., &c. 
 
 The seventh school year begins with instruction in the 
 large field of carpenter's work. The complete outfit of a 
 workshop is now requisite, and the carpenter's bench be- 
 comes the pupil's true work-table, while various planes, 
 drills and saws. constitute the necessary tools. The articles 
 manufactured arc at first limited to the most simple house- 
 hold utensils, but the pupils speedily advance to more com- 
 plicated work. When this branch has been thoroughly 
 pursued for a period of two years, carving and turning offer
 
 Rdiicaiioii ill Charles/ on. 13 
 
 very few difnculties to the worker. The [)reHinnian'es licrc 
 are always carpenter's work, and the free-hand exercises 
 witlrthc ckay constitute an additional preparation. This 
 species of work forms the introductory step in tlic Russian 
 w^orkshops, and is followed by instruction in turning and in 
 the blacksmith's craft. 
 
 Such is a brief outline of the industrial exercises planned 
 for our school, and of which the earlier are already in oper- 
 ation. The plan is by no means in so far definite as not to 
 be open to modifications, which our own experience, or the 
 criticism of others, may suggest ; it is the provisional i)lan 
 upon which we propose to proceed, and the first steps of it 
 at least have already been approved b)' experience. 
 
 These exercises possess educational value in many differ- 
 ent ways, and may be shown, as wc have said in the begin- 
 ning, to be in close connection with many branches of in- 
 struction, and with the collective education of the pupils. 
 
 Instruction in drawing must of necessity go hand in hand 
 with the modelling. What is drawn here is manufactured 
 there, and vice versa. 
 
 Further, the rudiments of geomctr\' are taught b)- means 
 of this work far better than with the aid of mere diagrams. 
 And a large number of definitions and propositions, which 
 are commonly remembered by routine, are, by our method, 
 demonstrated to the eye, and thus remain stanipcd on the 
 mind forever. 
 
 Knowledge of arithmetic is also incidentally acquired. 
 The children have to cipher practically, to add and sub- 
 tract, to read the figures on the scale, to divide and multi- 
 ply them in the most various combinations. 
 
 Even certain of the facts of natural history ma\' be 
 taught in connection with the work. 
 
 The children learn to know the material which they are 
 handling; they study various kinds of wood, their proper- 
 tics, marks of recognition and adaptation. The teacher 
 goes back to the tree out of which the wood has come, and 
 explains the formation of the annual rings, so easily per- 
 ceptible to the children. They arc taught from these how
 
 i^ Miijor Li'iii iiiiiij i' Annittrl Rcviciv. 
 
 to (.letcniiinc the age, quality and value of the i\.'00if. l\Mnis 
 of nature, also, arc actually copied in wood. cla\- and plas- 
 ter, whenever such imitation is possible: and when it is 
 not, recourse is had to drawing. 
 
 In this way we endeavor to make work-instruction con- 
 tribute toward the j;eneral development of the chiUl. The 
 hand is cdueated by the mind, the mind ly the hand." 
 
 Tin: ci I \ 11 i;i It ^t iiooi^— ki-:i'u1v1 "i m n;ki.\ ii"Ni>r.N'i" 
 
 SIM (INS. 
 
 I Ion. U'm. .1. Court enay : 
 
 Dkar Sir— One year ago 1 had the honor to report fue 
 City Public Schools. I now take pleasure in saying that we 
 have added a sixth. 
 
 In ( )ctober last, when we resumed after the summer va- 
 cation, the "Crafts" was sufficiently completed and equipped 
 as to be ready for service. The name of the building, as 
 will be seen, was suggested b\- the following correspon- 
 dence: 
 
 Ch.vrleston, S. C, August 15th. iSSi. 
 ]J1:akmr-1 passed through Friend Street to-day, and 
 the new school building is progressing favorabl}'. .At an 
 earh' day a panel in the front wall over the entrr.nce 
 should be prepared to receive the inscription. 1 renew 
 my suggestion, that it be called the "William Crafts 
 School," to perpetuate a name early identified with the 
 cause of public education in South Carolina, and I do so, 
 that the present generation may make a public acknowledg- 
 ment for a past service in this great work, and thus pre- 
 serve to posterity the name of a public benefactor. 
 
 I would be pleased to have your influential concurrence. 
 
 \'ery respect fulls*, 
 (Signed,! ' \VM. A.'corUTFAWV. 
 
 Mayor. 
 
 II "H. L. Vi. .Mkm.minckr, 
 
 Chairman Board of SeJiool ComJi/issioner.<.
 
 Education in Charleston. \ 5 
 
 Crrv B(>.\Ki> of School CoMMibSiONERS, .] 
 Charleston, S. C, October 9th, i88r. j 
 Hon. Will. A. Court cnay : 
 
 Dear Sir — I have the honor to transmit to you the fol- 
 lowing copy of a resolution passed at a meeting of the Board, 
 held on the 7th instant : 
 
 Resolved, That in grateful memory of the efforts of the late Hon. \Vm. Crafts 
 ill the cause of Public Schools in South Carolina, the Friend Street School has 
 been named in his honor, and that a marble tablet be inserted in the front of 
 the building bearing his name, and the preparation of the said tablet be referred 
 to tlic Building Committee. 
 
 By order of the Board. D. M. O'DRISCOLL, 
 
 Clerk. 
 
 The building is of brick, rough-cast, three stories on a 
 high basement, and contains three large main rooms, four- 
 teen class-rooms, office, teachers' cloak-room, besides a cloak- 
 room for the children on each story. 
 
 Constructed after the plan of the Morris Street School- 
 house, it stands out, like the latter, bv itself, commanding 
 from the upper floors a magnificent view of the cit}', rivers 
 and harbor. The situation is altogether desirable — beino: 
 the site of the old Friend Street School, destroyed by fire — 
 open, air}', and well ventilated. Occupying as it does a 
 prominent position near one main thoroughfare in the lower 
 wards, this building is an ornament to the city, and well 
 deserving of notice. 
 
 The school opened fairly, and has improved steadily each 
 day in numbers. The majority of the pupils, however, are 
 from the " Bennett " and " Memminger," furnished from the 
 classes hitherto necessarih' crov.'ded into these two schools. 
 
 The Memminger School having been divested of its four 
 lower forms, has been constituted entireh' a High School for 
 Girls, with the addition of higher branches in the divisions, 
 such as astronomy, chemistry and geometr\'. 
 
 The Saturday Normal School is also held in this building- 
 each alternate Saturday, there being two sessions in the 
 month, and is regularly attended by the Principals, \'icc-
 
 l(, Mayor lviu iiiiiiy's Annual RlVuw. 
 
 Principals and the teachers of all the sclu)ol.s. as well as by 
 in.iny of the ^Matluatcs of the '• MemmiiiKcr," under conduct: 
 «.f oureflicient and experienced Associate Principals, Messrs. 
 11. I'. Archer and A. Doty. jr. 
 
 The Hennett School has also been relieved of its pressure 
 by five classes since the opening i)f the "Crafts." In c.ich 
 of these schools has been organized a Girl-.' (irammar De- 
 partment, intended to serve as a feeder to the Memmingcr 
 High School, furnishing each year from the higher classes 
 pupils for the lowest form of the latter. 
 
 The Meeting Street School is improving in luunbers, and 
 bids fair to call for more room for e.vpansion. The pupils 
 of this school, as you are doubtless aware, are from the ex- 
 treme upper wards, and some from the farms in the North- 
 ern part of the city. It is, therefore, the smallest. 
 
 The two colored schools, the Morris Street and Shaw 
 Memorial, are still over-crowded, but a plan is in contem- 
 plation which, when carried out. will go far to remove the 
 difficult}', and accommodate a still larger number of the 
 children of our colored citizens. 
 
 Might I be pardoned for saying just here that a Reforma- 
 tion School is an institution much to be desired, as it is 
 much needed in our midst at this time. Many of the child- 
 ren in the city do not take advantage of the opportunities 
 offered them by our City Public Schools, but gro v up in 
 idleness and ignorance, nay. in beggary and want. It is 
 distressing to sec a child of tender years dogging the foot- 
 steps of respectable citizens on the busy thoroughfares, as 
 also to witness the attendance at prayer meetings held each 
 Sabbath at the Jail, of boys of twelve years, and upwards. 
 These things should not be I These children should all be 
 placed in wards of some institution where reform is to be 
 had, then regularly educated. There arc too many match- 
 boys, boot-blacks, self-constituted, unlicensed, independent 
 errand-boys, strolling the streets; sufficient to fill one or 
 more large graded schools. Let these be looked after as 
 well, and, believe me, sir, many a useful citizen would thus 
 be reclaimed, crime would be less frequent, and our County 
 jails iiei"! n-' ''il irgement.
 
 • ■ Ritucation in Charleston. 17 
 
 The present status o{ the schouls is as foHows: 
 
 NUMBKK OF Purii.s Registerki) IX Till-; Cnv I'l iu.k 
 Schools December 31 si', iSSj. 
 
 Hennkit SriiU'ji. — Mr. II. 1'. ArcIuT, I'riiuiiial: 
 
 Boys ^ 1 
 
 Girls 3(ji — S52 
 
 CkAI'TS Seiiool. -Mr. F. \V. Clement, Priiiciiial: 
 
 Boys y)K) 
 
 Girls 254— 563 
 
 MtM.MiNiaiK Iliiai SeiiuoL — Miss A. R. Siniontiiu, rriucipal; 
 
 (iii Is 3(j(j — 3(j6 
 
 Meeting Street Seiiooi.— Mr. J. A. Finger, Principal; 
 
 Boys 151 
 
 Girls 164— 315 
 
 MuKKlS Sl'REET Seuooi. (Colored) — Mr. A. Duty, Jr., Principal: 
 
 Boys.: 537 
 
 Girls 701— 123S 
 
 Sii.wv Memori.vi. SeuooE (Colored) — Mr. Ed. Carroll, Principal; 
 
 Boys 330 
 
 t;irls . . 44'J— 77'J 
 
 Gka.M) Tut.\ls: 
 
 Boys i77rf 
 
 Girls 2355—4143 
 
 Average Number Belonging. 
 
 BOYS. GIRLS. TOTAXS. 
 
 Bennett School 45 1 39^ 842 
 
 Crafts School 294 250 5-14 
 
 Memminger High School 3S9 3^9 
 
 Meeting Street School 152 iCji 3i3 
 
 Morris Street School 539 ''S4 1223 
 
 Shaw Memorial School 318 421 ^^39 
 
 .. Grand Totals i754 2296 4"5o
 
 ig ^fi1vor Courfniny's Annua/ Rivii'W. 
 
 AvKKA'.i l)\iiN A 1 ri;M)ANri:. 
 
 \M\ >. >,1K1 s. TUTAI.S. 
 
 Pcnn.i! 9>!uK.l ■ • 4^i3 343 1V> 
 
 (.'rat 270 221 4VI 
 
 McmmiiJger High Stlioul. . . 34' 34' 
 
 ^' ' 1 1.27 132 250 
 
 i 41)0 615 1105 
 
 Shaw Memorial Sdiool. 2^1 377 (122 
 
 Ur liiv.-^ 4.'43 children in the hLhools, 2,126 arc white 
 and 2,017 arc colored. 
 
 rhc number of teachers empluxed in the schools is 
 102, to u it : I male Superintendent, 5 male Principals nf 
 Schools, I female I'rincipal of School, 3 male Vice-Principals 
 of Schools, 3 female Vice-Principals of Schools, 4 female 
 Principals of Departments, 4 female X'icc-Principals of De- 
 partments, 79 female teachers, i female teacher (floating), 
 1 male teacher of music; besides others holding certificates 
 from the Cit)' Board of Examiners, or certificates of gradua- 
 tion from the IMemminger School, who may be employed 
 from time to time, as occasion may require —when more than 
 one of the regular teachers is absent from sickness, or other- 
 wise detained. 
 
 As but five of uur schools liaxe been in session for the 
 entire year, it is not possible to estimate the cost of the six ; 
 suffice it that the additional school has not increased our 
 expenses proportionally, since most of the teachers, as well 
 as pupils, have been transferred from the other schools, thus 
 decreasing the cost of those depleted. It is to be hoped 
 that the recent change in the division of the Count)' will 
 afford us a better income rateabl)', and allow opjjortunit)- 
 UiV expansion. 
 
 Our City Public Schools have attracted attention of late, 
 and have been favorably commented upon by dislinguishetl 
 vi.sitors, educationalists, and others. During the past year 
 we have been favored by occasional visitors from all parts 
 of the .States, and much satisfaction has been expressed, 
 nay, our school system has been commended in highest 
 terms. Special interest has been evinced in our colored
 
 Education in Cliarhsloii. 19 
 
 schools by Foreigners and Norlheiii and Western \-isitors, 
 and all have gone away pleased. 
 
 If our own citizens, leading men and fellow-townsmen 
 generally, would but favor us with an occasional call, it 
 would inspirit the pupils, teachers, and all connected with 
 the schools, and urge them to redouble their efforts. 
 
 Education is no longer a luxury, but a necessity. The 
 right of suffrage is not yet restricted to the benefit of clerg}', 
 but sorely hampered by ignorance and superstition. This 
 state of affairs must necessarily have existed for a time, but 
 the clouds of darkness are by degrees being dissipated, and 
 light gleams in the distance. It may tcd<e many, man)- 
 years to unravel the problem, but be it ours to lead the 
 willing by the lettered light of instruction until the scales 
 shall have fallen from the now purblind e}'es, and the adult 
 voter walks unassisted to the ballot-box. 
 
 I am, sir, very respectfulh', 
 
 William' si moms, 
 
 Superintendent City Publie Schools. 
 HOLY COMMUNION CHURCH INSTITUTE. 
 
 The Holy Communion Church Institute, founded by the 
 Rev. A. Toomer Porter, D. D., in 1867, continues its great and 
 good work. Over two thousand boys have passed through its 
 halls, a large portion of them filling their station as respect- 
 able citizens. There w^ere last year one hundred and thirty- 
 six inmates in the Institute, and one hundred and ten 
 day-pupils — one hundred and fifty-three persons fed and 
 housed, inclusive of teachers and servants. The cost was 
 $28,790.56, of which $15,000 was raised at home i,i fees and 
 board, and in subscriptions and donations. There was a 
 back debt of $5,000, which has all been paid, making nearly 
 $19,000 as the generous offering to this enterprise by our 
 fellow-citizens, at the North, and from friends in England. 
 The school is larger this year, and offers greater facilities 
 than ever before. It opened in October, 1882, wholly free 
 of debt. It has a department of elocution and mechanical
 
 20 Mnyor Cfliir/imiys Annual Ri-'idv. 
 
 lirawin^, ed sicin'j^raphy unci tclci^rapln'. The whole school 
 i«^ luidcr a principal and sonic seventeen teachers. Though 
 a private work, it has become a public necessity, and needs 
 n!! thr aid that cnii be trivcn. and vurits all that it rrci^ives. 
 
 <,EN IKAl- ( .VTJ{(.)I.U SCHOUI-FOR BOYS 
 
 Number of pupils registered 376; number of teachers 
 nnale") 7; co«;t of maintenance per month Sv^<^- 
 
 >(MiLl\ .--.IkELi M' lit »(»1.- lok c.ikl.^. 
 
 Number of pupils registered 280; number q{ teachers 
 (female") 6; cost of maintenance per month $240. 
 
 ^T. IM:1KR"S SCIiOOL— for COl.oRKI) < iiii.hrkx. 
 
 Number of pupils registered no; number of teachers 3 ; 
 cost of maintenance per montii $80. 
 
 Total number of pupils 766; total cost of maintenance 
 per month S'^>50: making an annual cost of §6,500 for ten 
 months. 
 
 Nil. WALLINGFORD A( ADK.MV ((QLOREr)). 
 
 Organized 1865; Rev. Thos. A. Grove, Principal. This 
 school is kept open nine months in the year, at an annual 
 cost of $3,000. The teaching force consists of a principal 
 and si.x teachers, two of whom are graduates of the institu- 
 tion ; three of the others arc from the Northern States. 
 The enrolment during the past year was 612 pupils— males 
 285, females 327 ; total 612. Average attendance seventy- 
 nine per cent. 
 
 llir. A\i:kV NORMAL INSTiTl'TE (COLORED). 
 
 For the past year I note good progress made at this In- 
 Ktitute, of which Mr. A. W. J-"arnham is now the very 
 acceptable principal. Since the issue of the last Year Book, 
 the course of study has been so modified and extended that 
 it coincides with the average normal and preparatory 
 Kchools. The course now includes French and German, as
 
 Rduidtioit ill Chdrlcston. 2\ 
 
 well as Latin and Greek. To the department of natural 
 science have been added chcmistr\-, niineralo_i^}-, gcolojry, 
 /.oology and astronomy. There has already been introduced 
 natural theology and evidences of Christianity. A class of 
 twenty are showing marked efficiency in stenograph}'. 
 Vocal and instrumental music arc receiving more than usual 
 attention, the teacher for that department giving her whole 
 time to it. In the normal department special attention is 
 beincr eivcn to methods of teaching, scliool economy, and 
 school law, especially the school law of South Carolina. 
 Designing has been introduced into the higher classes; 
 needle-work and sewing into the lower classes ; and the 
 Kindergarten into the primary classes. All normal and pre- 
 paratory students are required to take systematic physical 
 exercise with apparatus. i\ reading room has been opened. 
 One hundred and fifteen volumes have been added to the 
 library. A course of lectures is being given. The attend- 
 ance of pupils was never more regular and punctual. The 
 Institute has three hundred and fifty pupils, under the care 
 of eleven teachers. The tuition of language pupils has 
 been raised to two dollars a month ; of English pujjils, one 
 dollar and fifty cents. 
 
 rUBLIC SCHOOLS IN SOUTH CAROLINA. 
 
 The following information of the Public School work in 
 this State, continues to 1882, inclusive, the record in pre- 
 vious Year Books, and ^s copied from the last annual re- 
 port of the State Superintendent of Education : 
 
 "NUMr.ER or SCHOOT.S. 
 
 1876-77 -'-is^ 
 
 1877-7S 2.922 
 
 1878-79 2,901 
 
 1879-So 2,973 
 
 i38o-8i 3.057 
 
 i88r-82 3.1S3 
 
 laerease since 1S76-77. .. 1 ......i.... 7t>C)
 
 JA/r<'/ Coiirti-ttii\'s Annual Rt-iicw. 
 
 I'KAc lltKS IlMI'l <»vi:i). 
 
 I- -(. 77 - \\ liitc 1,7-- 
 
 < 'olnrcd ( 4 ) 
 
 Total 2/>74 
 
 iS77-7^— While 2,i)«)i 
 
 (^■<i)oi cd 1 ,r!2(j 
 
 Total 3.TI7 
 
 jv-q -,,— White j.dr)!) 
 
 ('oloreil i/^T''" 
 
 Total 3. 1 Ml 
 
 i.^j.j-^.. — Wliilc 2,n4S 
 
 I'olored 1.123 
 
 Total 3.17' 
 
 l>->n M— White 2,026 
 
 ( olorcd T ,223 
 
 Total 3,2-1') 
 
 I SS I -82— White 2,i2r. 
 
 Colored i,2S7 
 
 Total 3,413 
 
 Increase since 1876-77 73') 
 
 StTinni, A 'ni-.Mi.Wi K. 
 
 i'7'> 77-\Viute 4''.4-44 
 
 ("oloicd 55.952 
 
 Total 102,30(1 
 
 '•''77-7"'— ^Vhiic 54.1"^ 
 
 Colored 62,121 
 
 Total 1 16, 230 
 
 I ncrcase '3.^43 
 
 1S7S 7,1— While 53.368 
 
 C 'olored 64,09!; 
 
 Total 122,463 
 
 1 ncr. asc 6,224
 
 Education in Chnrlcsiou, J3 
 
 1879-80 — White . 61, arc) 
 
 Colored 72,853 
 
 'lotal 134,072 
 
 I lu rcasc II ,61)9 
 
 I^8o-Sl-'^Vhitc (ji,33') 
 
 Colorcil 72,1 Kj 
 
 'I'otal 133.45'"^ 
 
 Decrease , , . fri 4 
 
 1881-S2— While ^'5,39') 
 
 ( 'oloi'cd 80,575 
 
 Tolal 145,974 "• 
 
 I iicrease 12,5 16 
 
 Increase since i87()-77 43,578 
 
 School Fund. 
 
 1876-77 i?iSy,325.8o 
 
 1877-78 316,197.10 
 
 1878-70 33i,049-9<-> 
 
 1879-80 415,108.94 
 
 j88o-Si 452,965.44 /'. 
 
 Lexciii Ol' Skssiov. 
 
 1876-77 3 niiiiilh>, 
 
 1877-73 3 ■ .0 " 
 
 1878-79 vA " 
 
 1879-80 3>< 
 
 iS3o-Si ":,% " 
 
 1881-82 -••4 
 
 <7. I'his is the largest number of pupils c\ei' enrolled in 
 the Public Schools of this State in one \'car. 
 
 h. This amount is the largest ever reported in one \-ear 
 tor Public Schools in South Carolina. It is believed that 
 the school fund for the fiscal year 1881-82 was larger than 
 the amount here reported for 1880-81. Full reports of the 
 school taxes collected during the fiscal }-ear i88r-S2 have 
 not yet been made to the Comptroller-General,
 
 24 
 
 .]/tJVi^r Conrftimr's An until Rtvic'c 
 
 It will be seen that tlicre lias been a marked increase in 
 ll»c number of schools, in the number of teachers employed, 
 in the school attendance and in the school fund. 
 
 At the close of the fiscal year 1876-77, reports made to 
 this office showed that the amount of past due and unpaid 
 schod! claims against the school fund of the several Counties 
 of the State was $209,940.66 ; but subsequent investigations 
 have shown that in several Counties the indebtctlness was 
 puich larger than the amount then reported. 
 
 In twenty-seven Counties, under the authority of .Acts of 
 the Legislature, the proceeds of the poll tax, in whole or in 
 part, have been used to pay these claims. In those Counties 
 in which the proceeds of the poll tax have been thus used 
 theschool session has been necessaril}- diminished. 
 
 The following is a statement of the amount of the pa^»t 
 due school claims still unpaid : 
 
 Cliailcstun .i5l3,6(j2.7S 
 
 Clarendon 3,01 1 .44 
 
 Hampton 2,018.3(1 
 
 Kcrsh.iw 3,426.02 
 
 Oconee 2,5(jo. 75 
 
 Orangeburg S,e»2o. 70 
 
 Kicliland. ... !,SJ5.o8 
 
 'lotal ?:i4.575'3" 
 
 \ i>ir (>!• 1111-: Ki;\ . .\. p. m.w c, i>. i'. 
 
 In the spring of 18S2, this distinguished divine \isiteil 
 South Carolina in the interests of education, and was invi- 
 ted to come to Charleston as the guest of the cit\'. This 
 he did, spending two weeks here visiting our schools, public 
 and private, and has been pleased since to speak of our edu- 
 cational establishments in i)ieasant terms. .\l the i)ublic 
 reception at the Academy of Music, he was welcomed by <i 
 crowded and influential audience, and spoke most eloquent- 
 ly in behalf of renewed energy in educational work. Upon 
 leaving Charleston, the City Council took the following ac- 
 tion. 1)\- a uti.inimous vote:
 
 I: J Ilea t ion ill CJiarlcston. 25 
 
 The Cuiiiniittcc appointed under resolution of Couiuil U) 
 prepare suitable resolutions to be sent trj the Rev. A. I). 
 Mayo, \). I)., expressive of tlie thanks of our citizens for 
 his recent visit to our city in the interest of public educa- 
 tion, respectful!}' reconunend the adoption of the follouin'4 
 resolutions : 
 
 Rcioliwl, 'I'IkU llic L'ily Cmiiicil hcrcwiUi (.'xpiv^s tlicir :>iucijrc giatirKalioii 
 al the rtccnl visit of the Rev. A. 1). i\[ayo, IJ. 1.)., tt) uur citv. 
 
 Ktsolvcd, That we herewitli leium to the Rev. A. I). .Mayo, 1). I)., uuv 
 Iiearty thanks fur the able, eloquent and instructive address delivered liv idm 
 in the Academy of Music, and the addresses delivered by him in the several 
 educational institutions of our city. 
 
 Kcsoh'cJ, That wc regard with high appreciation the ^eal and interest mani- 
 fested by the Rev. A. IJ. Mayo, D. D., in the cause of public education, and 
 cherish the liope that his varied and earnest efforts in this direction may be 
 rewarded w ith deserving success. 
 
 (t. \v. dingle, 
 a. johnson, 
 
 Committee. 
 
 HIGHER EDUCATION. 
 
 THE Ill(;il .SCHOOL— COLLEGE— SOUTH CAROLINA MILLIARV 
 
 ACADEMY. 
 
 As a proper introduction to this portion of my educational 
 report for the year, I present a copy of the bill passed at 
 the last session of the General Assembly, the most impor- 
 tant feature of which is the generous provision for affording 
 the advantages of higher education, free, to the meritorious 
 bovs from the Pufilic Schools, the " Central " and "German " 
 Academies. By this legislation it is hoped that some boys 
 from these schools will be induced annually to undertake 
 the High School and College course, or seek appointments 
 in the Citadel Academy. 
 
 AN ACT TO Reorganize the School Board oe the. 
 Clfv oe Charleston, and to gi\ e ef rin-: Row er 
 oe Providing a Liberal Education eor Meri- 
 torious Run Ls. 
 
 Skctiox r. /.'<■ // ciiaclcd hv the SciiaU- and House of J\,pirsciUallvfs of llic
 
 26 Miivt^r Conrttnny s Aiinuixl RcvitXi.'. 
 
 Stilt ff S>-nlh Ciinflimi, now iiul and sitlhii; in (Jtiicral .lssc/nl>/y, and l>y tlu- 
 ,,„i. :ht- same. Thai the Cily of Charleslou i> luicbv iliviiki.1 into si\ 
 
 l»lsllicl^: The V'wsi District to comini'^c Wauls one (i) ami two (2); 
 I,,. .^^. ad Dislrict to comprise Wards tliree (3) and foin (4!, the Third District 
 to cuniprisc Wards five {5) and six (6); the Komlh District to comprise Ward- 
 Mjven (7) and cinhl (S); the Tifth District to comprise Wards nine (9) and ten 
 !• ; the Sixth District to comprise Wards eleven 111) and twelve (12) of said 
 ^.;.. At cverv general municipal election in the Lily of Charleston there shall 
 i>e elected hv the legal voters of each of the said School Districts, respective!) , 
 uiie School Commissioner, and the six School Commissioners so elected, togetlui 
 \» ith the two School Commissioners to be appointed fur the same term by tin, 
 (iovernor, upon the reconimenilation of the Board of Trustees of the llij;li 
 School of Charleston, ami two School Commissioners to be appointed for the 
 same term by the Governor, upon the recommendation of the Hoard of Trustees 
 of the College of Charleston, shall constitute the School Board for the City of 
 Charleston, and shall be invested w ith all the powers and perform all the duties, 
 and in every respect be governed by the laws now existing respecting the 
 Sjhool Hoard of the City of Charleston, as heretofore constituted. 
 
 Sec. 2. It shall be the duty of said School Board, and they are hereb\ 
 authorized and empowered, to select from the Public Schools, the School of llu- 
 (ierman School Association of Charleston, South Carolina, and the Central 
 .School, by competitive examination, such meritorious boys as may desire to 
 secure the privilege of a more liberal education, and arc otherwise unable to 
 secure the same, and recommend them to be received into the High School of 
 Charleston, under such rules and regulations as may be prescribed by the said 
 lioard of Trustees of the High School of Charleston ; an<l the said School Board 
 is further authorized and empowered to pay the regular annual tuition fees, and 
 no more, for such pupils so recommended as may be received into said High 
 School, and maintain such a standard as is reipiireil therein, which said tuition 
 fees shall be paiil out of the fund to which the Charleston School District is 
 entitled out of the amount raised by (In- Citv of ( 'h.ulr-i.iii im.l iM,f ,,u\ .if iIk- 
 constitutional two mill tax. 
 
 Sec. 3. The pupils so admitted into the High School of Charleston, as shall, 
 upon graduation, be recommended by the .School Board for the City of Charles- 
 ton for proliciency in saiil High School, shall be entitled to the free honorary 
 scholarships in the College of Charleston, provided for such purp(jse b) the 
 Board of Trustees of the College of Charleston, such scholarship to be held 
 under the rules and regulations prcscribetl by the Trustees of the (ollei.'e of 
 Charleston. 
 
 Ski . 4. lor the further promotion of the liberal education of the youth of 
 the State, the said School Board is hereby authorized and emi)owered to a|>- 
 |Miint the beneficiaries of the scholarships to which the County of Cliarlesliui 
 may be entitled in either Inancli of the Stale University. 
 
 SK' . :. The present School Board of the City of Charleston shall conlinue 
 to exercise the same powers and iierform the same duties heretofore exercised 
 and performed by them, until the Board herein provided for shall be elected 
 and organized. 
 
 .!
 
 lid Ilea no)t ill C/nrr/cs/oii. 27 
 
 Sicr. (1. All AfU and |);iit^ of Acts incon^i^l^.'lU willi lliis Acl nrc iK-rcl))' 
 repealed. 
 
 Appiineil llie Iwenly Ih^l (la\ nl I )o('eniliei-, A. I). jSS2. 
 
 rill', STATK OF SOUTH CAROLhNA, ? 
 'Oii'H K oi' Sf.crktakv of Statk. ) 
 
 T, James N. Lipscomli, Secrelaiy of Stale, do liciebv eerlifv llial llie fore^ciinLj 
 i-i a true copy of an Act iinw on file in tliis office. 
 
 Witness my liaml ami the i^icat seal of the .Slate, at (Ailumhia. ihi^ 22cl ilay 
 of January, A. I ). 1S.S3. 
 
 |sKAi.| J AS N. 1.11'SrOMI!, Sc-nrlarv of S/,i/,\ 
 
 Tiir: hk;!! si'in^of.— rkiNcii'Ai, diiuii.k's rkpokt. 
 
 IIk;i[ Sciiooi, of Ciiarlestox, .S. C, \ 
 
 Januaiy iSth, 1883. ) 
 'J'o I hi Prcsidcni and Member & of iJie Board of Trustees of 
 the High Sehool : 
 
 GentI-EMEN — In 1880, when the present Board of Trus- 
 tees was organized, tlic High School was just emerging 
 from a protracted period of trial. Onl}^ those who were ac- 
 tively engaged in managing its interests during the preced- 
 ing decade can have any just conception of the obstacles 
 through which it had forced its way. With a limited in- 
 come, with an inadequate corps of teachers, with social ques- 
 tions threatening to precipitate such a calamity as befel 
 the State University; with these and other difficulties be- 
 scttino- it, it is stranfje that the school survived; it is still 
 more strange that it should have grown and gradually 
 worked its way to a position of prominence and cfticiencw 
 
 The promise for the future, which the Board saw in the 
 school, led them to devise such plans and make such changes 
 as v.'ouKl, in their judgment, most surely devehip its possi- 
 bilities of usefulness. Measures which, had been previously 
 impracticable were now apparentl)' feasible, and the time 
 seemed propitious for the establishment of the school tq:>on 
 a permanent basis. 
 
 Tiic principal changes embodied in the new organization 
 are :
 
 28 Afitror Courfithivs Ainnial Rcvici^'. 
 
 1. .Makin^j the stiuly i)f Latin coinpulsorw 
 
 2. riic assignment of a dcpaitnicnt, instead of a class, 
 to each teacher. 
 
 3. The adoption of a rule rcquiriptj the pvipils to niiin- 
 tain a fixed standard in recitations. 
 
 While the first of these measures was under consideration, 
 fears were entertained by some that the patronage of the 
 school might be seriously afTected. These apprehensions, 1 
 am glad to be able to report, have proved groundless. The 
 advantages in other respects which the school offered were 
 so evident, that those who had been prejudiced against 
 classical culture were willing to surrender the option that 
 had formerly been allowed. 1 tliink the marked mental 
 development, which has in most instances resulted from the 
 new course of study, has satisfied objectors that the change 
 had been well considered. In a few years I hope it w ill not 
 be necessary in this community to apologize for our com- 
 pulsory Latin course. The superior training of our gradu- 
 ates and their thorough preparation for life's earnest work 
 will be an argument, the force of which cannot but be 
 C()nccded. 
 
 The objection to classical culture rests upon the assump- 
 tion that it is not practical; an assumption which although 
 not uncommon is nevertheless incorrect. There is no issue 
 between classical education and that which is practical. 
 The only education worthy of any serious advocacy is the 
 practical — that which is adapted to the condition of its sub- 
 jects, and which will prepare them for the real work which 
 life will demand of them. Education is in fact life begun. 
 It is the stimulating and directing of mental processes 
 which are to continue and develop into habits. The in- 
 formation a boy gains at school is of course important. 
 Kvery valuable fact acquired is a valuable possession. lUit 
 what arc facts to one who is unable to appreciate them, who 
 cannot make judicious use of them, who is simply their 
 passive custodian ? Besides, in tiie few years spent at school, 
 it is after all only possible to store up a \ery limited num-
 
 Ildiicaiioii in Charleston. 29 
 
 lier of facts; and if tlie acciuisition of knowledge is all that 
 education aims at, even the most cultured would leave tlie 
 schooldiouse with a very meagre equipment. 
 
 To teach a boy how to think — this is the higher purpose 
 of education, and that education is most practical whicli 
 most effectively accomplishes this. The question to be con- 
 sidered in arranging the curriculum of a school is not so 
 much what is in itself important, as what in its effects upon 
 the mind produces important results. Now it can liardl)- 
 be disputed, that no educational system demands and elicits 
 so much thinking as that into which is incorporated the 
 study of Latin and Greek. Without alluding toother ad- 
 vantages, it may be said that the faithful student of these 
 languages must subject his mind to such exercise as \\\\\ of 
 necessity develop, strengthen, mature it. My own observa- 
 tion leads me to this assertion : Given two equall}' studious 
 boys of equal age and equal capacity; let one pursue what 
 is usually known as the English course, and let the other 
 be trained under the classical system. At the expiration of 
 four or five }'ears the classical student will, in mental 
 power — power to think, to reason logically, to give correct 
 and elegant expression to his thoughts and his conclusions — 
 be found far in advance of the other. In this assertion I am 
 only stating what prominent educators have long observed^ 
 and have presented again and again as their conviction. 
 Now, in view of the results of such a test, instead of ob- 
 jecting that the classical education is not practical, ought it 
 not rather to be affirmed that it is the most practical ? 
 
 The second change made by the Board, viz: the assign- 
 ment of departments instead of classes to the teachers of 
 the school, has also in its general results proved judicious. 
 I^^ach teacher, concentrating his energies upon kindred sub- 
 jects, has been able to give his pupils better and more help- 
 ful instruction. The best results have, however, been 
 reached in the upper classes. With the younger pupils the 
 plan has this disadvantage— they arc not able to readil\- 
 adapt themselves to the methods and the characteristics 
 of their several teachers; and the impressi(^n ^^■hich one
 
 30 JAj'I'.v L ourhittiv's An nun/ Ri:it:<.'. 
 
 teacher, constaiitl)' in chari^c of thcni, niij^ht make, is not so 
 well made by the four or five teachers. t<» whom they recite. 
 antl who by turns are to control tliem. In the Boston Latin 
 lli"h School the lower classes have each of them their own 
 class teacher, while in the upper classes the same plan is in 
 operation as that which has been adopletl here. 
 
 The rule requiring^, uiuler penalty of assignment to a 
 lower class, or (»f exclusion from the school, that pupils 
 should in each department maintain an ;ivera;^"e of at least 
 fifty per cent., has had a salutary effect upon those inclineil 
 to habitual indolence. Care has been taken in the enforce- 
 ment of this rule to avoid doing injustice to such as. even 
 with proper diligence, were for a time unable to make tin- 
 required average. 1 confess to a decitled ]i:irtialit\- for the 
 dull bov who is not lacking in industrx-, ami I think the 
 best work of a school is that which is directed to such cases. 
 .Several of our pupils, now quite promising, have been at 
 times, from no fault of theirs, unequal to the tasks assigned 
 to their classes; and had they been dealt with harshly, the\- 
 would have given up in tiespa-r the faithful struggle the)- 
 were making. I'nder the operations of the rule, a few l)a\e 
 found their proper place in lower classes, w liile some ha\e 
 withdrawn from the school. The number of bo\s w ho failed 
 t,o maintain the required standard during the past quarter 
 was \-er\' small, and I think it likeh' that before the time 
 allowed them shall have expired most of these w ill have 
 attained the prescribed percentage. 
 
 The removal of the school from Societ\- Street to the 
 " King Mansion" and grounds, purchased at the suggestion 
 of the Ma\'or, and with the ready co-operation of the Cit\- 
 Council, was a very wise step. The additional rooms at our 
 command have been found a great convenience, and while. 
 of course, a building, not originalK' constructed for school 
 purposes, could scarcel}- be expected to meet al! our wants. 
 )'ct with the changes made, it h;is been found a great im- 
 provement upon the building formerly occupied. The 
 classes have been much more comfortable during recitation 
 hours, and the boys have been the belter prepareil for tluir
 
 Etliicalion in Charleston, 3 1 
 
 iiiciital work from ciijoyiii;,;- fdcilitics for open air exercise 
 on an ample play-ground. 
 
 'I'he erection of a i:^\'mnasiuni, ct)nstructed and equipped 
 in accordance with the most advanced ideas, and the aj)- 
 l)ointnu:nt of an accomplished teacher of i^ymnastics, have 
 also contributed largely to the efficiency of the school. In 
 my visit the past summer to several of the leading scliools 
 in New Kngland, I saw no arrangements for ph}'sical train- 
 ing which would compare with those provided for the 
 pujnls of the Charleston High School. I can speak' with 
 great satisfaction of the results already reached b\^ Professor 
 Reinhard, in the development of his systematic ccnirse. .\11 
 of the bo\-s ha\'e improved, and some wJio were in delicate 
 health are becoming" strong and robust. 
 
 At the opening of the school in April last, many of the 
 applicants being unable from inadecpuitc i)rcparation to 
 enter the fourth (lowest) class, it was deemed expedient by 
 the Hoard of Trustees ttj organize a primary department. 
 This department sot)n hat! upon its roll the names of 
 twenty- five boys, and now numbers more than fifty. It is 
 gratifying to be able to state that a majorit}' of these give 
 more than ordinary promise ;'' and we have good reason, 
 therefore, to anticipate i^1rTCf^^"d contributions from this 
 source to the regular classes of the school. The course of 
 study for this department has been arranged to gi\'e 
 thorough instructioi". in the elementary branches, so that 
 wiien tlie pupils enter the school they will be well prepared 
 for the work- wdiich will then be demanded of them. Be- 
 sides, if all is accomplished wdiich we hope for, the retpiire- 
 ments for admission into our fourth class at the beginning 
 of the next school year can be considerabU' increased, and 
 the course of study in the upper classes of the school can 
 be extended to a corresponding degree. It appears to be 
 entirely practicable in the five years' course, which the or- 
 ganization of this department allows us, to prepare our boys 
 to enter any college, or to graduate them with as complete 
 a school education as is afforded anywhere. 
 
 The pupils of the school have, during the past year, done
 
 32 Mil \ or Cold (iiitiys Aiiiiiiii/ /urit-70. 
 
 very yjood work. The cxaiiiiiiations for promotion, held in 
 March, indicated that in each department of stin.ly there 
 had been considerable advance made, and the averages were 
 better than I have e\er known. The first class especiall\' 
 did credit to themselves .md to their teachers, and were 
 worthy recipients of the first certilicates of graduation issued 
 by the school. Those who entered Charleston College 
 elicited from the professors who examined them words of 
 high commendation. It may not be out of place to men- 
 tion here, that for four consecutive )'ears at the College of 
 Charleston the first honor has been awarded to our High 
 School bo\s, and the reports which ha\e reached nie from 
 other colleges as to the standing of our .\lumni have been 
 i:ratif\inL:. I would furthermore state that at the recent 
 competitive examination for State appointments to the 
 Citadel Acadenu', the first place was gained b\' one of our 
 pupils. I feel satisfied that the attainments of our bo\s 
 will compare fa\orably with those of bo}s of similar age in 
 any of the schools (jf the country. 
 
 The average number of pupils during the \-ear i)ast in the 
 regular classes of the school has been 12 r, in the preparatory 
 department 40. The average attendance for iSSi was no. 
 There has been marked improvement in the daily attendance 
 for the year. The change in the time of the summer 
 vacation has enabled us to k-ee[) our classes full, u[) to the 
 close of the school term, while formerly our numbers 
 invariabl}' diminished from about the middle of June; and 
 during July the school would become so much disorganized, 
 from the withdrawal of jnipils whose parents were leaving 
 the city for the summer, as to make it \ery difficult to do 
 any effective work. 
 
 'I'he recent action of the Legislature, extending io deserv- 
 ing boys at the Public Schools the opportunity of cnjt)ying 
 the advantages which the High School offers, will doubtless 
 give us a large accession from these sources. This increase, 
 with the addition to our numbers which we may reasonably 
 anticipate from the natural growth of the school, will in a 
 very shmt tim<^ necessitate more spacious accommodations
 
 EducattcDi ill Cliarhstoii. 33^ 
 
 than arc now at our commantl. W'c shall .soon rctiuirc a 
 new buiklint;', constructed with special reference to our 
 needs, with an amjjle number of class rcjonis, of proper 
 dimensions, and a main hall which would seat comfurtabl)' 
 all the students, and which could also be used on public 
 occasions. I would therefore suggest the: importance of 
 devising plans for the accomplishment of this great purpose. 
 Much of the work already done by the l^oard, with the co- 
 operation, of our public spirited Mayor :ind Aldermen, will 
 remain as a monument of their zeal and devotion. .\ well 
 constructed and suitably equipped High School building- 
 would be the crowning glory of their acti\-e and intelligent 
 administration. 
 
 The growth of the school will probably also soon render 
 it necessary that the lower classes as well as the preparatory 
 department should be divided into sections. It has been 
 deemed expedient already to pursue this course in most of 
 the studies of tlie fourth class, and in tlie prim.ary depart- 
 ment. It is difficult for a teacher to do full justice to his 
 scholars individually if the class numbers more than twent\'- 
 five or thirt)-. We have now in all seven teachers, a force 
 sufficient to meet present demands; but in the cx'cnt of the 
 accessions anticipated, a larger corps of instructors will be 
 called for. 
 
 W'c need at once, in order that our instruction in natural 
 science should be most fruitful in results, a complete set of 
 philosophical apparatus. Natural science, taught from a 
 text book alone, is like geography taught without a map. 
 Experimeiits constitute its very groundwork. The scientific 
 principle which the boy knows, because he has had it pre- 
 sented to his observation, or because he has, with his own 
 hand, tested its truth, is much more valuable to him than 
 that which he simply accepts on the assertion of his teacher 
 or his text book. We need also a full set of wall maps, 
 illustrating ancient and modern geography. 
 
 The High School in the past has uniformly had intimate 
 relations with the College of Charleston, and has made an- 
 nual contributions to its roll of students; and as the sch.ool 
 
 b
 
 ^1 ^u'iijor Coiir/('nnj's .linnial Rcvii'w. 
 
 'Tfovvs aiul develops, the nuinber awiiliiv^ themselves of the 
 
 to ^ *" 
 
 advantages of this t'ov-honorod iiistitufi')n will doubtless 
 be very much large i 
 
 Our good old city, many of whose sons, trainetl in her 
 home institutions of learning have been, and still are, at 
 once her strength and her ornament, is gr.idua!!)' but surely 
 becoming a great educational centre. The reputation she 
 has attained must not be allowed to lose an\' of its lustre. 
 What has been alread\' accomplished is not the culmination 
 of our work, but should be regarded as only the earnest of 
 still greater things. Charleston can fulfil wu higher destiny 
 than to provide for her sons, and for others who may come 
 to her for instruction, the largest facilities for thorough and 
 extended culture. The teachers of the city may well deem 
 themselves fortunate in being permitted to contribute by 
 their labors so directly to this end. I am sure that those 
 of us who are identified with you will earnestly and con- 
 scientiously co-operate in e\cry plan \ou may devise to 
 enable the High School to do a wort^u' part in achieving 
 the (jreat consvimmation. 
 
 Respectfully submitted, 
 
 VIRGIL C. DIBBLi:. 
 
 TFIE COLLEGE OF CHARLESTON. 
 
 The College of Charleston is neiuing the close of a cen- 
 tury of corporate existence, hax'ing been chartered in 
 March, 1785. 
 
 '• The first meeting of the Bjard (jf Trustees u ;is heUl 
 at the State House in Charleston '(the present Court- 
 house)* in August, of the same year. In the early lioards 
 r>f Trustees were John Rutledge, Dictator of Soi;th Caro- 
 lina and Chief Justice of the United States ; IXivid Ramsa\-, 
 Historian of the State and the United States, and sometime 
 President of the Continental Congress; Charles CoteswortU 
 I'inckney, Ambassador to France and author of the patri- 
 otic sentiment 'millions for defence,' 6<c. ; Henrv W'm.
 
 Elf II cat ion in C/itnlcs/oii. 35 
 
 DeSaussurc, father of the Equity Jurisprudence of the State ; 
 General William Washini^ton, whom John Randolph called 
 the Marccllus of the War of the Revolution ; and others, 
 the chiefs and leaders of the noble men who achieved our 
 redemption from Colonial vassalage, and whose names are as 
 familiar to us as household words. And from these daj's 
 to the present, and at all times, the purest and most learned 
 of our citizens have given their services to the institution, 
 and manifested a liveK' and earnest interest in its welfare. 
 What a galaxy of portraits might be made even from those 
 who were living within our personal recollections. 
 
 These are some of them : William Dra\'ton, whose fine 
 instincts as a gentleman and accomplishments as a states- 
 man made him the fitting representative of a high-toned 
 constituency in the better days of this proud city; Thomas 
 S. Grim.ke, who united the simplicity of a child, the ardor 
 of an enthusiast, and the inflexibility of a patriot with a 
 wealth of varied learning rarely equalled ; Daniel Elliott 
 linger, who recalled the days of Rome, when the virtue 
 and courage and dignity of Rome shone brightly in her 
 public men ; Robert Y. Hayne, the gallant champion of the 
 rights of the States and of the South, in one of the great- 
 est intellectual conflicts ever witnessed in the Senate of the 
 United States ; Langdon Cheves, jurist, financier and states- 
 man, whose robust and massive intellect had a reserve of 
 power equal to any demand that niight be made upon it ; 
 Charles Eraser, for near forty }-ears a Trustee aiid Treas- 
 urer of ihe lioanl, a man of exquisite taste and refinement, 
 artist, scholar and poet; and that favored child of gcn.ius, 
 James L. Petigru, brilliant and profound, with a wit that 
 flashed like the scimetar of Saladin, and was as keen, but 
 whose wit was argument and illustration, and iiis reason 
 sound and comprehensive as it was subtle, th.e acknow- 
 ledged head of his profession, with a heart tremblingly 
 alive to every generous impulse, at one time melted to pity 
 and at another fired with resentment and indignation 
 against moral or legal wrong, the man of courageous soul, 
 whose love of the right never succumbed to popular favor
 
 ^6 Minor Courtrtinys Annual Rcviiiv. 
 
 or dibla\ \\;is now the peer ot the liii;hcst and 
 
 hft'ighticsi. a:ij wins was now the friend and servant of the 
 poor and oppressed —nature's nobleman ; " " " '" 
 " Mitchell Kin^, in point of lon^j. active ami unwearied ser- 
 vice the most devoted friend the Collej^e of Charleston 
 ever had. whose services as teacher. Trustee and President 
 of the Hoard cover a period of fift\- years — he gave it his 
 time, attention and money, in life, and in death he did n<"it 
 forget it, bequeathing to it a numerous and costly collec- 
 tion of classical book's — whose literar\- taste and attain- 
 ments, his elegant and refined hospitalit)'. and his conspic- 
 uous reputation as a law\'er and judge, marlv him out as 
 one of the most distinguished figures of the generation just 
 passed awaw lie was an Ionic column in (Mir social 
 edifice." 
 
 And let me add to the list the name ct W illiain J). Por- 
 ter, from whose address before the Alumni of the College 
 of Charleston, delivered in 1871^ the foregoing extract is 
 taken — most lovable and loved, and whose loss we freshl\- 
 mourn ; a graduate and Trustee, and enthusiastic friend of 
 the College. As he said of Judge King's devotion to the 
 College, '• Ilis heart was in the matter." He dedicated his 
 facile pen to the cause of the College. 
 
 The College of Charleston has through these long years 
 unassumingly, but patiently and faithfully, continued the 
 good work of fitting our young men for the duties of life ; 
 and many of those whose names have adorned the annals 
 of the city and State owe the culture which has fitted them 
 for the duties of their career, to the thorough training re- 
 ceived within her walls. 
 
 " Following the history of this institution," .says :\lr. 
 Porter, " we find it to have been the predominant and per- 
 vading purpose of the Trustees to foster a complete sys- 
 tem of domestic education, and to this end, to establish on 
 a permanent basis a /7o;;ie College. And the object was a 
 patriotic one. No city or State can grow in greatness that 
 docs not give her sons the opportunity of an education at 
 home."
 
 lidiiciUioii ill Charleston. 37 
 
 And this end has been attained. The College of Ciiailes- 
 ton, throngh the enlightened liberality of the City Conncil 
 and private benefactions — some of them, such as Ephraiin 
 Baynard's gift of $i66,O0O, munificent — has a permanent en- 
 dowment, which, providently administered, is s'lfficicnt fm- 
 its ordinary wants. 
 
 It is therefore independent of political inlluences and sec- 
 tarian patronage. 
 
 Its curriculum docs not need to be modified or its stand- 
 ard debased to subserve the designs of any faction or to 
 conform to the decrees of any sect. 
 
 I'^'cedom and catholicity it possesses by the vcr)- condi- 
 tion of its existence, and freedom and catholicity are the 
 life as well as the inspiration of higher culture. 
 
 The College course comprehends the full curriculmii ; 
 languages, ancient and modern, science and literature, im- 
 parting a breadth and symmetry of development, which 
 cannot be obtained if the time of the student is concentrated 
 during the period preceding his university career, upon 
 special professional studies. 
 
 Every department is thoroughly organized, and the 
 course of instruction in each is broad, deep and complete, 
 furnishing an admirable equipment for the higher walks ot 
 professional life, for the active career of the man of busi- 
 ness, or the special pursuits of exact science under the 
 guidance of the university or the technical school. 
 
 The fact that the number of students is small affords the 
 rarest facility for individual /raining; so essential a factor 
 in any complete system of intellectual development, and 
 one which the conditions of our ordinary collegiate courses 
 seldom render practicable or even possible. 
 
 The professors are all men who have devoted their lives 
 to teaching, of high attainments, long experience and wide 
 reputation. 
 
 Within the last year the Trustees have secured the ser- 
 vices of Professor Henry E. Shepherd, of North Carolina, 
 who so long and successfully discharged the responsible du- 
 ties of Superintendent of Public Instruction for the City
 
 3S 
 
 Mayor CointtHdv's Aiiiiiui/ luvifii'. 
 
 t)f Jiallimorc, as rrcsiilciu of ihc Tolloijo ;uul Pn^fcssor of 
 Knfjlish Language and Literature. 
 
 i'he tuition is almost nominal — $40 a year. 
 
 There are scholarships, givini; support a^ well as tviilinn 
 to eight stuilcnts, which are of the Ker Hoyce foundation. 
 
 There are a number of scholarships, giving free tuition, 
 in the gift of the Trustees and Faculty; and the ])oard of 
 Trustees have also recentl}' offered free tuition to every 
 jjupil of the High School of Charleston who graduates fron) 
 that school and obtains a prescribed degree of scliolarshij). 
 
 By the provisions of the Act to reorganize the School 
 lioard of the City of Charleston and to give it the power of 
 providing a liberal education for meritorious pupils, passeil 
 22*1 December, 1882, and herewith printed at pages 273-7.4, 
 meritorious pupils from the Public Schools, the Central and 
 ticrman Academies, may be educated free at the High 
 School of Charleston ; and free honorar\- scliolarships an- 
 also provided for such pupils in the College of Charlest<in. 
 This unification of the educational s\stem of Charleston, 
 marks an era in the educational history of our eit\-. 
 
 The re-establishment of the State Military yXcadeni)- .it 
 the Citadel, and the liberal patronage which it has received 
 from the Legislature and the people of the State, .so far 
 from beine regarded bv the Trustees and I'acullv of the 
 College of Charleston with jealousy or grudging, are cor- 
 dially approved by them as affording a most v.iluable ally 
 in the cause of thorough education. 
 
 Again, to quote from thi^ thoughtful address ot .Mr. Por- 
 ter: 
 
 " 1 here are some who consider that too niueh attention 
 is given in the collegiate course to the dead languages; tli.it 
 lanjjua^e is onlv .1 vehicle of thought, .ml n<>t a substitute 
 or equivalent for it; and that the study of languages is the 
 study of words and leads only to scholarship ; tli.it science 
 on the other hand deals with facts; that facts are better 
 than words, and that education should bo niore i)ractical 
 and liave a more direct reference to the actual ))ursviits ol 
 life. I'hc friends of cl.is>ical education rcj)!)- tii.it (jrcel:
 
 hdiicafioii in Charleston. 
 
 39 
 
 and Latin arc the model and master languages of the world ; 
 that the object of education is the complete training of the 
 faculties, and that the study of these languages is the best 
 mental discipline known to the world ; that we learn things 
 onl}' through words, and that the object of College educa- 
 tion is nsjt to teach a calling or pursuit, but to teach the 
 uses of the mind, and so to train its powers tiiat it shall be 
 fitted to learn oraccjuire any calling that ma}' afterwards be 
 selected. '■•■ " '■•■ '"■ '''■" 
 
 " Professor Seele\', author of llccc Homo, sums up the con- 
 troversy in a single sentence, udiich is both terse and clear: 
 ' If there is any result which may be said to have been 
 fairly attained in tlic controvers}' it is this — that science 
 must come in, and that language must not go out.'" 
 
 "The argument we so often hear against the study of the 
 ancient lamjuages conveyed in the question, why should I 
 study (ireck and Latin when I never expect to have to reatl 
 a line of either in my business? is very much as if a pupil 
 in the gymnastic school sliould ask the teacher, why he 
 should exercise with an Indian club or climb a pole when 
 he never expects to use the one or climb the other in his 
 bu'siness .' " 
 
 The object in both exercises is the training, mental or 
 physical, which gives mental or physical strength and supple- 
 ness, and not the actual use which will be made of the 
 thing learned. 
 
 The College of Charleston undoubtedly affords the op- 
 portunity for a thorough and liberal education to those who 
 prefer a home education, or who cannot afford any other. 
 
 The Trustees and Faculty of the College of Charleston 
 will continue to devote themselves with patient energy to 
 the task of teaching the parents of our young men the 
 value of the education which they offer so liberally to their 
 sons, and wait with confidence the coming of the time 
 when the halls of the College, as well as the Citadel, will bo 
 filled with the voung men of the city and State— there are 
 cnou"di young men without education for both. 
 
 The College of Charleston was at its best when the South
 
 40 ^fn^or Ceur/tfr,tr'< -hmunf Kmr-u: 
 
 Carolina Collcjjc uiul the Citadel aiul Arsenal Academies 
 were at their best. 
 
 We cannot close this branch of the subject of education 
 better than as we begun, with a passage iVuni M:. Porter's 
 address, from which we have quoted so largely. 
 
 •• h is certain that education in this countr\- ou^^hl to be 
 more thorough and exhaustive than it is. 
 
 •■ * The cause of this slu)rt-coniing en our part 
 IS to uc lound in the eagerness of tnir young nien to em- 
 bark in active life, and in the deference that is paid to this 
 sentiment or proper.sitv in our placi'> and swstem "f in- 
 struction. 
 
 This is one of the vice.'^ or weaknesses ul a )uung countr}', 
 which time and tlie strong educational spirit that is abroatl 
 with us will do mo>t to cure. W'c cannot e.xpect to leap at 
 once up to the ideal standard, but we ma\- piogress in that 
 direction. 
 
 In a College like ours the curricuuini, or li.xed course of 
 study, should be placed at a high point of elevation, and be 
 vigorously maintained. .\(tach more value lo quality of 
 instruction than to the number of students, the latter will in- 
 evitably follow the former. Let the institution lift the 
 students up, not the students drag the institution down. 
 A partial course should not be allowed. It is a temptation 
 to shrink from labor which a voung man Ctinnut resist, and 
 a bounty upon caprice or indolence which should not be 
 countenanced. "•• '■'■ "••' '••" '•'■ ''^' '"■ 
 
 The object of a College is to afford a liberal and compre- 
 hensive education, classical and scientific; and in a .State 
 that la)-s any claim to litcrar)' or intellectual character such 
 ;in institution is as necessary as primary schools. There is 
 no reason why the College of Charleston should not become 
 the leading College of the .State, and a leading centre not 
 only of knowledge but of refining and elevating social and 
 moral influences. On the contrarw there are many reasons 
 why it should become so. ■■ '■■ "■ 
 
 ICducatc your sons at home, then, from the primar)- .school 
 lo the c\n\ of the C(^llege course. Teach them to love the 
 
 ':!
 
 Education in Chariest on. 41 
 
 land of their fathers ; to know by heart the story of her he- 
 roic past, and to realize that if ever there was a W'^'tiX for 
 them to be true and strong and steadfast, it is in the time 
 of her suffering" and sorrow. It is not vainglorious to say 
 that we are sufficiently satisfied with the exhibitions of tal- 
 ent, character and attainments that have illustrated our 
 past, to desire most earnestly their renewal and perpetu- 
 ation." 
 
 THE SOUTH CAROLINA AHLITARV ACADEMN'. 
 
 I cannot close this review of our city's educational organ- 
 izations, without expressing my gratification at the presence 
 in our city, once again, of that institution, a memory of the 
 olden time, now by the State revived — the South Carolina 
 Military Academy. I rejoice in the re-estabh'shmcnt of this 
 educational power, both because it links the city, in its gen- 
 eral educational work, to the State at large, through the 
 many representatives of South Carolina's sons in our midst 
 from every County in the State, and also because through 
 its '\'\rts and Anns,'' and general education, we have a pow- 
 erful factor for good, both within and beyond the city, in 
 the awakened spirit whose purpose is the mental and moral 
 culture of our people. I greet this institution as a sister in 
 our home, and we look to her aid and co-operation in the 
 great-future we propose for our sons, in the rising schools 
 of City and State. 
 
 CLASSICAL LEARNING. 
 
 The marked increase of interest in higher education which 
 has recently been manifested in Charleston, and the growing 
 conviction that now, and in our present condition more than 
 ever, a "liberal education" is essentially the most "practi- 
 cal education," make it appropriate to republish the follow- 
 ing eloquent and effective plea for the study of the classics, 
 and especially of Greek, from the pen of South CaroHna's 
 most distinguished and finished scholar. Hugh S. Lcgare. 

 
 ^2 Mtivor Coiirf entry's Annvnl RtVu'v. 
 
 Mr. Lcjjarc's success and distinction as la\v\cr, advo- 
 cate and statesman, were due in a marked degree to his 
 eminent attainments as a scholar; and his career should be 
 a constant incentive to the young men oi Carolina, who 
 liope to attain the rewards of honorable ambition, rather 
 through a fitness derived from study and culture, than by 
 the sordid accumulation of wealth, or the arts of the dema- 
 gogue. 
 
 The e.xtracts here published are from an article in the 
 ••Southern Review,"' of which Mr. l.egare was editor, in 
 1S28, and which is probably known to comparatively few. 
 I'he article is a review of three addresses then recently de- 
 livered: the first, by lion. Thomas S. Grimke, on " '1 he 
 Character and Objects of Science, and especially on the In- 
 tUience of the Reformation on the Science and Literature, 
 past, present and future, of Protestant Nations: delivered 
 in the First Presbyterian Church, Charleston, on Wednes- 
 dav. the Qth of May, 1827, being the anniversary ot the 
 Literary and Philosophical Society of South Carolina;" the 
 second, "An Address delivered before the South Carolina 
 Society, on the occasion of opening the Male Academy on 
 the 2d July, 1827, by \Vm. Geo. Read, Principal of the same ;' 
 the third," hiaugural Discourse, delivered in Trinity Church, 
 Geneva, X. V.. August 1st, 1827, by the Rev. Jasper Adams, 
 President of Geneva College," formerly President of the 
 College of Charleston. 
 
 A considerable portion of the article is taken up with 
 a review of Mr. Grimkd's comparison between the ancients 
 and moderns, and an answer to his objections to the study 
 of the classics, and is very controversial in tone. All such 
 ]iortions arc omitted in these extracts, except where neces- 
 sary to understand Mr Legare's plea for the study of the 
 classics. 
 
 •■ .\ loiniai discussion at this time of tlay of the compai.i- 
 !ive merits of the ancients and moderns, and the ad\antages 
 of a classical education, would be set down in England by 
 the >ide of that notable argument to prove that a general
 
 Rdncatiou in Charleston. 43 
 
 can do nothing without troops, of which, Cicero, if wc mis- 
 take not, lias somewhere made sucli lionorable mention. 
 Hut what might there very properly be rejected as superero- 
 gation, or even qui/.zed as downright fivaddiiii_(^, (to borrow 
 a phrase from an English magazine) may be imperious!)- 
 called for by the state of public opinion on this side of the 
 Atlantic. The Edinburgh Review, in an able and elaborate 
 article on Cobbett's writings, dispatched his opinions upon 
 the subject now before us in a summary and sweeping de- 
 nunciation, as " his trash about the learned languages." lUit 
 what shall we say, when, in the midst of a society once dis- 
 tino-uished above all others in this country bv these vcr\' 
 attainments, '-'■ a gentleman having so many and such high 
 claims to our respect, as Mr. Grimke, declares it to be his 
 solemn conviction — and that, too, formed, as he assures us, 
 upon the fullest and fairest experiment — that they are abso- 
 lutely good for nothing. Nor does that gentleman stand 
 alone. We have frequently heard the same opinions ex- 
 pressed by persons of scarcely less authority and influence 
 in the Southern States, to say nothing of occasional essays 
 in the newspapers and periodicals, and discourses before the 
 philosophical and literary societies of other cities. It is 
 quite impossible, therefore, we apprehend, however strong- 
 ly inclined we might be to do so, to consider the instance 
 before us as a mere sporadic case, deserving, indeed, on ac- 
 
 * Before and just after the Revolution, many, perhaps it would be more accurate to say 
 
 most, of our youth of opulent families were educated at English Schools and Universities. 
 There can be no doubt that their attainments in polite literature were very far superior to those 
 of their contemporaries at the North, and the standard of scholarship in Charleston was, con- 
 sequently, much higher than in any other city on the continent. We have still amongst us a 
 venerable relic of that cultivated and heroic age, whom we may single out without an«nvidious 
 distinction, and to whom we gladly avail ourselves of this opportunity to offer a trilnite justly 
 due to such a union in one accomplished character, of the patriot, the gentleman, and the 
 scholar— of the loftiest virtue, exercised in all the important offices and trying conflicts of life, 
 \\ ith whatever is most amiable and winning in soci.al latitudes, in polished manners and an ele- 
 gant taste. To add that he is now crowning the honors of his useful and blameless life, with a 
 blessed and venerated old age, is only to say, that he has received the sure reward pure et 
 ehgantcr actie eatatis. But there is something melancholy in the reflection, that the race of 
 such men is passing away, and that our youth are now taught to form themselves upon other 
 models. These improvements, with so many more, are beginning to spring up and blossom 
 with great freshness and luxuriance about the favored City of Boston— our Western Florence, 
 m which industry has been the willing tributary of letters and the arts, and which is through-, 
 out all its institutions, its character and its pursuits, one great monument of what commerce 
 has done to civilize and adorn life.
 
 44 Mnvor Court euays Ann tin/ Rc-'irzc. 
 
 count of its peculiarly .»<igravatcd s)mptoin^. t<) be remarked 
 and recorded as a slrikini^ phenomenon in its kind, but not 
 calculated to excite any alarm from its supposed connection 
 with the state of the atmosphere, or its probable effects 
 upon the general health of the vicinage. We do believe, 
 on the contrary, that this grievous malad\' is of an endcmial 
 or epidemic class, and that it behoves all who, with us. 
 think it a matter of serious public concernment that its 
 progress should be arrested, to apply the most efficacious 
 remedies, and adopt all necessary precautions with the 
 least possible delaw 
 
 I/avarice, says La Rocliefoucault, est plus opposee 
 a I'economie que la liberalite. We have the same answer 
 to make to those, who, in the matter of education would 
 sacrifice what is really useful to their own narrow or per- 
 verse theory of utility, and out of sheer abhorrence of the 
 luxuries and prodigality of learning, would indulge the 
 neoph)'tc in a very scanty allowance of its bare necessaries. 
 They who apply to literature this radical, levelling, degrad- 
 ing r/// ^^;/cj test — who estimate genius and taste bv their 
 value in exchange and weigh the results of science in the 
 scales of the money-changer, may be wiser in their genera- 
 tion than the disinterested votaries of knowledge — but the\' 
 have, assuredly, made no provision in their system for the 
 noblest purposes of our being. The same thing may be 
 said of those, who are for sacrificing what arc rather am- 
 biguously called the ornamental to what arc just as absurdly 
 considered as par excellence the useful parts of education. 
 According to this theory a boy should be taught mathe- 
 matics, chemistry, mineralogy, metaphysics, and the 
 metaphysical part of moral philosophy, and be allowed from 
 his most tender years, we suppose, to dabble nd lil'itnni in 
 politics, speculative and practical — in other words, he is to 
 be brought up in studies, which, although they lead to far 
 more important results, are, as a mere discipline for youth 
 with a view to future usefulness in life, we really think, not 
 a great deal better than the drv and thornv dialectics of the 
 schoolmen, while no object should bo suffered to approach
 
 Education in Charlcsion. "45 
 
 liim that may speak to his taste, his ima<^nnation or his 
 heaiL Our youth are to be trained up as ifthcv were all 
 destined to be druggists and apothecaries, or navigators and 
 mechanists — or, if it sounds better, they are to be deeply 
 versed in the ccconomy of the universe, and the most 
 recondite and shadowy subtleties of transcendental geome- 
 try, or transcendent psycology — but v.-hat, after all, ought 
 to be the capital object of education, to form the niorcil 
 character, not by teaching what to think but persuading to 
 act well ; not by loading the memory with cold and barren 
 precepts, but forming the sensibility by the habitual, fervid 
 and rapturous contemplation of high and heroical models 
 of excellence ; not b}' definitions of virtue and speculations 
 about the principle of obligation, but by making us locc the 
 one and yvr/ the sacredness of the other — would, in such a 
 system of discipline, be sadly neglected. This is a radical 
 and an incurable defect in the cut bono theory. If we com- 
 pare different reras C)f history with each other, and inquire 
 wdiat it is that distinguishes the flourishing and pure from 
 the degenerate and declining state of commonwealths, we 
 shall seldom find that it is an\^ falling off in mere specula- 
 tive knowledge, or even in the mass of talent and ability 
 displayed at any one time. The softest Sybarites of 
 Juvenal's day provoked his indignant satire by talking of 
 morality with the sternness of Cato — courage was, no 
 doubt, as well understood and defined by the Sophists who 
 lectured to the slavish and cowardly successors of the 
 Scipios, as it had been in the wars against Pyrrhus and 
 Hannibal — and legislation became more ingenious just in 
 proportion as it was less efificacious, according to the 
 pointed saying of the great historian — corrnptissiind rcpublicd 
 pliwinice leges."' But what a difference was there, and how 
 essential is that difference in the eyes of posterity, between 
 the age of Cicero and that of Domitian (to go no further") 
 in genius, in taste and in moral character! '" ■''■ " * * 
 We really cannot, with a clear conscience, undertake to 
 promise, that Greek and Latin will make better artisans and 
 
 * Tacit. Ann. I. iii,
 
 46 Mnyor C tnirtcnoy's Annual Rcviiw. 
 
 nianiifaciuiLi>. or more thrifty ccconomi<;ts ; <m*, in short. 
 more useful and skilful men in ortlinary routine of life, or 
 its mere mechanical ofificcs and avocations. W'c should 
 still refer a younp^ student of law. aspiring to an insight into 
 the mere craft ami m\-stery of special pleading to Saunders" 
 Reports rather than to Cicero's Topics : the itinerant field 
 preacher would doubtless find abundanth' greater edifica- 
 tion, and for his purposes, more profitable doctrine, in hon- 
 est' John l-?unyan. than in all the speculations of the 
 Lyceum and the Academics; and we do conscientiously be- 
 h'eve, that not a single case, more or loss, of yellow fever, 
 would be cured by the faculty in this city, for all that Hip- 
 pocrates and Celsus have said, or that has been ever said 
 (or sung) of Chiron and .I'^lsculapius. It is true, their 
 peculiar studies would not be hurt, and might, occasionally, 
 even be very much helped and facilitated by a familiar ac- 
 quaintance with these languages; and what would they not 
 gain as enlightened and accomplished men! l^ut it is not 
 fair to consider the subject in that light onlw II is from 
 this false state of the controversy that the argument of Mr. 
 Cirimke derives all its plausibility. W'c. on the contrary, 
 take it for granted in our reasonings, that the American 
 people are to aim at doing something more than " to tlraw 
 existence, propagate and rot. " We suppose it to be onr 
 common ambition to become a cultivated and a literary 
 nation. Upon this assumption, what we contend for, is. 
 that the study of the classics is and ought to bean essential 
 part of a lilural education — that education of which the 
 object is to make accomplished, elegant and learned men - 
 to chasten and to discipline genius, t<i refine the taste, to 
 (juicken the perceptions of decorum and propriet\-,'' to ])urif\' 
 and .exalt the moral sentiments, to fill the soul with a deep 
 love of the beautiful both in moral and material nature, to 
 lift up the aspirations of man to objects that are worth}' of 
 his noble faculties and his immortal destin\' — in a word, to 
 r.ni.se him as far as possible abo\'e those selfish and sensual 
 proi>cnsities, and those grovelling pursuits and that mental 
 
 .Nihil est dilTiciliuf; qtiflin quid dcccat videre. — Cic.
 
 Education in Cliarlcsloii. 47. 
 
 bliiKlncss and coarseness and apatli}-, which dcj^r.ulc Uic 
 savatje and the boor to a condition but a little hiczhcr than 
 that of the brutes that perish. We refer to that education 
 and to those improvements, which draw the broad line 
 between civilized and barbarous nations, which have 
 crowned some chosen spots with glory and immortality, and 
 covered them all over with a magnificence, that, even in its 
 mutilated and mouldering remains, draws together pilgrims 
 of every tongue and of every clime, and which have caused 
 their names to fall like a 'breathed spell' upon the car of 
 the generations that come into existence, long after tlu' 
 tftles of conquest and violence have swept ov^er them, and 
 left them desolate and fallen. It is such studies we mean, 
 as make that vast difference in the eyes of a scholar between 
 Athens, their seat and shrine, and even Sparta with all her 
 civil wisdom and military renown, and have (hitherto at 
 least) fixed the gaze and the thoughts of all men \\\\.\\ curi- 
 osity and wonder, upon the barren little peninsula between 
 Mount CithcEron and Cape Sunium, and the islands and the 
 shores around it, as they stand out in lonely brightness ami 
 dazzling relief amidst the barbarism of the West on tlie one 
 hand, and the dark and silent and lifeless wastes of oriental 
 despotism oiw the other. Certainly we do not mean to say, 
 that in any system of intellectual discipline, poetry ought 
 to be preferred to the severe sciences. On the contrary, we 
 consider every scheme of merely clenwiitary education as 
 defective, unless it develope and bring out all the faculties 
 of the mind, as far as possible, into ecjual and harmonious 
 action, l^ut, surely, we may be allowed to argue from the 
 analogy of things, and the goodness that has clothed all 
 nature in beauty, and filled it with music and with fragrance, 
 and that has at the same time bestowed upon us such vast 
 and refined capacities of enjoyment, that nothing can be 
 more extravagant than this notion of a day of philosophical 
 illumination and didactic soberness being at hand, when 
 men shall be thoroughly disabused of their silly love for 
 poetry and the arts. Indeed, we know nothing that at all 
 comes up to this idea, but a tirade of one of IMoliere's
 
 4^ Miiyor Conr/t/in." .liniiuiiRiiiiz,.'. 
 
 cuinic heroes (Sganarcllc \vc believe) against the pernicious 
 charms of women— who, however, w iiuls iij) liis invectives, 
 as nrii^ht liave been expectctl. b\- the bitter .i\ owal - 
 
 c cjiciuiaui oil laii luui pour cc,-> .iiiiiiiaiix la. 
 
 Sj it is, hasbjjn. and ever will be (it is more than probable ) 
 as long as man is constituted as he is. .And the same thini; 
 mav be said of i)oetr\' ami the arts, which are onl\- another 
 form ofit. I'or what is poetry? It is but an abridged name 
 lor the sublime and beautiful, and for hi^h wrought pathos. 
 It is. as Coleridge quaintly, yet, we think, felicitously ex- 
 presses it, "the blossom and the fragrance of all human 
 knowledge." It appears not only in those combinations of 
 creati\'e genius of which the bcdii idcnl is the professed 
 object, but in others that might seem at first sight but little 
 allied to it. It is spread o\er the whole face of nature — it 
 is in the glories of the heavens and in the wonders of the 
 great deep, in the voice of the cataracts and of the coming 
 storm, in .Mpine precipices and solitudes, in the balmy gales 
 .ind sweet bloom and freshness of spring. It is in c\er\- 
 jieroic achievement, in every lofty sentiment, in every deep 
 j)assion, in every bright vision of fancy, in every vehement 
 affection of gladness or of grief, of pleasure or pain. It is, 
 in short, the feeling — the deep, the strictly moral feeling, 
 which, Avlien it is affected by chance or change in human 
 life, as at a tragedy, we call s}-mpathy — but as it appears in 
 tiic still more mysterious connection between the heart of 
 man .ind the forms and beauties of inanimate nature, as if 
 the\' were instinct with a soul and a sensibilitv like our ow n, 
 has no appropriate appellation in our language, but is not 
 the less real or the less familiar to our expericiKe on that 
 account. It is these feelings, whether utterance be given 
 to them, or thc\' be only nursed in the smitten bosom 
 wiiether they be couched in metre, or poured out w ith wild 
 disorder and irrepressible ra[)turt:, that constitute the true 
 spirit and essence of poetry, which is, therefore, necessarily 
 connected with the grandest conceptions and the most 
 toucl)ing and intense emotions, with the fondest aspirations
 
 Education in Charleston. 49 
 
 and the most awful concerns of mankind. For instance, 
 religion has been in all ages and countries the great foun- 
 tain of poetical inspiration, and no harps have been more 
 musical than those of the Prophets. What would Mr. 
 Grimke say of him whose li[)s were touched by one of the 
 Seraphim with a live coal from off the altar; or docs he 
 expect the day to come when the " wide-spread influence of 
 moral wisdom and instructed common sense" shall assign 
 to the Psalms or the Book of Job, in the library of a culti- 
 vated mind, a lower place than to Robertson and Hume? 
 Milton pronounces "our sage and serious poet Spenser," a 
 better teacher than Scotus and Aquinas — and in another 
 place, has expressed himself to the same effect so adn^irably, 
 and, for our present purpose, so appositely, that we cannot 
 refrain from citing the whole passage : "To which (viz: 
 logic) poetry should be made subsequent —or, indeed, rather 
 precedent, as being less subtile and fine, and more simple, 
 sensuous and passionate. I mean not here the prosody of 
 a verse, which they could not but have hit on before, among 
 the rudiments of grammar, but that sublime art which in 
 Aristotle's Poetics, in Horace, and the Italian commentaries 
 of Castlevetro, Tasso, Mazzoni, and others, teaches what 
 the laws are of a true epic poem, what of a dramatic, what 
 of a lyric, what dccoritvi is, which is the great masterpiece 
 to observe. This would make them soon perceive what 
 despicable creatures our common rhymers and play -writers 
 be, and shew them what religious, what glorious and mag- 
 nificent use might be made of poetry, both in divine and 
 hum.an things." [Tract: on Education.) 
 
 We have enlarged the more upon this head, because we 
 have uniformly observed that those who question the utility 
 of classical learning are at bottom equally unfavorable to all 
 elegant studies. They set out, it is true, in a high-flown 
 strain, and talk largely about the superiority of modern genius. 
 But the secret is sure to be out at last. When rhey have 
 been dislodged one by one from all \\\q\x literary positions, 
 they never fail to take refuge in this cold and desolate 
 region of utility. They begin by discoursing magnificent!}-
 
 JO Afnyor ioiirft'itiu s Annual Rtviivc. 
 
 of omiui>, poets a\Kl philosophers, aiul the best tlisciplinc 
 for forming them, and end by citinc^the examples of A, the 
 broker, or H, the attorne)', or C and D. members of Con- 
 gress, and u hat not, who have all t;ot alon^ in the world 
 without the least assistance from Latin and Greek. Just as 
 if everybody did not know that, as that sap^e moralist, Figaro 
 has it, pour avoir liii I'ii'n U' savoir fairc vaiii micux que Ic 
 savoir; and just as if our supposed great men had troubled 
 their heads any more about the exact sciences and modern 
 literature, than about the classics, or were not quite as little 
 indebted to Xewton. to Milton, or to Tasso, as to Virgil 
 and Tully, and just as if an argument which proves so much. 
 were gf)od for anything at all I 
 
 Mr. Grimke's assertion that the ancients did nothing in 
 ethics struck us as one of the boldest (and that is saj'ing 
 much) in his whole discourse. \\c have been always 
 accustomed to think that if those refined ages have left us 
 anything, in any department of knowledge, of which the 
 excellence is beyond all dispute, it is (after the Greek 
 geometry, perhaps,) their moral philosophw We presume 
 it will not be considered as derogating from their merit in 
 this particular, that they did not b\- mere dint of reasoning, 
 /? />r/V?r/, make themselves partakers in the benefits of the 
 C liristian Revelation. Neither do we conceive ourselves 
 responsible for certain strange customs and lieathenish 
 practices into which thev occasionalK' fell in their conduct 
 and way of living. We must repeat, once more, that the 
 (jucstion here is ncjt what the mass of mankind in those 
 ages luerc or did, but what the elite wrote and spoke, and 
 not whether we should follow the example of the former, 
 but whether we ought to study the literary works of the 
 latter. We concede, therefore, to save trouble, that their 
 morality — that for instance of Rome in the time of the first 
 I'unic war — would not be good enough to stand the severe 
 censure of London, of Paris, or of New York. Let us now 
 see how it fares in other respects with Mr. (irinike's pro})o- 
 sition. 
 
 1 he .^(.leuce of m<^r<ds has been \ery properly (.livided
 
 Education in Charleston 5 1 
 
 into two distinct ]-:iiui.s. Tlie one contemplates man as an 
 active bcinq;, having dnties to perform and obligations to 
 fulfil, approving good and disapproving evil, pursuing hap- 
 piness and avoiding misery and pain. The other regards 
 this moral constitution itself as a subject of inquiry and 
 analysis, and aims at explaining its phenomena (with how 
 much success Mr. Grimke ma}-, perhaps, be able to inform 
 our readers) in the same way as natural philosophy arranges 
 and accounts for those of the material world. The former 
 is obviously practical — the latter altogether speculative and 
 metaphysical. Under the discipline of the first, we arc 
 taught to love virtue, to feel what is so beautifully called 
 in the language of the Scriptures "the beauty'of holiness," 
 to abstain from false and deceptive pleasures, and pursue 
 only rational and solid good, to resist the temptations and 
 to encounter with fortitude and patience the conflicts and 
 sufferings of life — and, above all things, "to hate the 
 cowardice of doing wrong." In one word, it is the great 
 object of this part of a " generous education " to fit a man, 
 as Milton expresses it, for performing justly and magnani- 
 mously all the offices, both public and private, of peace and 
 war. The end of the second is nothing more — its fruit, at 
 least, has been and can be nothing more than the gratifica- 
 tion of a liberal — certainly, but still an unprofitable curios- 
 ity, by shewing xvJiy it is we love virtue, what is the princi- 
 ple of obligation, whether it is utility or a moral sense or 
 sympathy, or what else that causes us to approve or to 
 blame, &c. Now, in the former kind, the ancients not only 
 attained to a high degree of excellence, but there is nothing 
 in all that the copious literature of modern times has to 
 boast of— with the exception, /rr/^^/^, of Telemach us and 
 the finest compositions of Addison — that will bear a mo- 
 ment's comparison with the dialogues of Plato and Tull}', 
 to say nothing of the numerous other remains of the Por- 
 tico, the Lyceum and the Academy, that have come down to 
 us. This position is quite incontrovertible, and has been, 
 if we are not very much mistaken, stated in so many words 
 bv the author of one of the most ingenious, and h\ far the
 
 >- 
 
 Mil] or CoNr/efiiiv's Annuo/ Krv/rw 
 
 most eloquent work on the other, or metapliysical, branch 
 of moral philosophy that has ever been publi>hcd. It is 
 impossible, indeed, to ima^^ine anything more sublime and 
 consoling, more sweet, more touching, more persuasive than 
 the Apology for Socrates, the Crito and the Phacdo of his 
 great disciple, or the Somnium Scipionis. the whole Treatise 
 (ic Senectule. but especially the close of it, the Tusculan 
 Questions, nay, all that remains in this kind of the Roman 
 orator. As for the metaphysical part of this science of hu- 
 man nature, ue would express ourselves with a becoming 
 diffidence— but we must be allowed to say. that until Mr. 
 (irimke shall have put his finger upon any one thing, in the 
 whole compass of it, that is perfectly settled and has been 
 recognized as a profitable, and, as he would call '\\., print it til 
 addition to the stock of human knowledge, wc shall con- 
 tinue to think it. as we now do, very immaterial whether 
 the ancients or the moderns have had the best of it in this 
 nocturnal, and what is worse, far from decisive, conflict of 
 wits. Nothing is more possible than that we are ignorant 
 of the understanding of these writers, instead of understand- 
 ing their ignorance, according to the distinction of an in- 
 genious admirer of the philosophy of Kant. Be it so. We 
 do, however, for our own part, cheerfully resign these thorn\' 
 and unprofitable studies to those who profess to comprehend 
 and to read with edification such things as the Theaetetus 
 of Plato, or the cloudy transcendentalism of the German 
 school. In the meantime, without denying, as we do not 
 deny, that a young man ought, about his seventeenth or 
 eighteenth year, to study metaphysics, for several good 
 reasons, we fearlessly appeal to our readers to decide 
 whether he ought not to be deeply imbued with the spirit 
 and the precepts of ancient ethics, conveyed as they are in 
 a style of which the faultless execution is the best disci- 
 pline of taste, whilst its glowing eloquence fills every gen- 
 erous bosom with the most elevated and ennobling moral 
 enthusiasm. 
 
 We now approach, with more confidence, the second 
 (juestion : How far is it worth our while to study the writ-
 
 Rducalioii in C/iarhstoi 
 
 53 
 
 ings of the ancients as models, and to make them a rct^-idar 
 part of an academic course. We shall be obliged to be 
 more brief upon this branch of the subject than we could 
 wish to be, but will endeavor to urge some of the strongest 
 grounds in favor of the established system. 
 
 And first, it is, independently of all regard to their e.\- 
 cellence, a most importaiit consideration that our whole 
 literature, in every part and parcel of it, has immediate and 
 constant reference to these writings. This is so true that 
 no one, who is not a scholar, can even understand — without 
 the aid of labored scholia, which, after all, can never afford 
 a just, mucli less a lively idea, of the beauties of the text — 
 thousands of the finest passages both in prose and poetrw 
 Let any one who doubts this open Milton where he pleases 
 and read ten pages together, and we think he will confess 
 that our opinion is well founded. Indeed, a knowledge of 
 Latin and Greek is almost as much presupposed in our liter- 
 ature as that of the alphabet, and the facts or the fictions 
 of Ancient Historv and Mvthology are as familiarlv alluded 
 to in the learned circles of England as any of the laws or 
 phenomena of nature. They form a sort of conventional 
 world, with which it is as necessary for an educated man to 
 be familiar as with the real. Now, if there is no sort of 
 knowledge which is not desirable and scarcely any that is 
 not useful — if it is worth the while of a man of leisure to be- 
 come versed in the Chinese characters or the Sanscrit, or to 
 be able to decipher the .•Egyptian hieroglyphics, what 
 shall we say of that branch of learning which was the great 
 fountain of all European literature — which has left its im- 
 press upon every part of it, of which we are every moment 
 reminded by its beauties, and without which much that is 
 most interesting in it is altogether asnigmatical .-^ It is vain 
 to say that good translations are at hand which supersede 
 the necessity of studying the originals. Works of /^w/^ it 
 is impossible to translate ; and we do not believe there is 
 any such thing in the world as a faithful version that ap- 
 proaches to the excellence of the original work. They are 
 casts in plaster of paris of the Apollo or the Venus -and,
 
 ^4, MtiYor (oi/r/t'r/<j]s Aiiiinn/ Rii-ic7<.'. 
 
 indeed, not near so good, inasmnch as eloquence and poetiy 
 are far less simple and more difficult of imitation than the 
 forms of sculpture and statuarx-. There remains nothin{j[ 
 but the body — and even that, not unfrequently. so altered 
 in its verv lineaments that its author would scarcelv reco":- 
 nize it — while all "the vital j:jrace is wantini^. the native 
 sweetness is gone, the color of primeval bcai:t\- i-^ faded 
 and decayed." It will not be so easily admitted that the 
 same objection holds in works of which utility, mereh', is 
 considered as the object, such as histories, &c. \'et it cer- 
 tainly docs. The wonderful, the magical power of certain 
 expressions cannot by any art of compositi(^n be transfused 
 from one language into another, ihe associations con- 
 nected with particular words and phrases must be acquired 
 by long acquaintance with the language as it came warm from 
 the hearts of those who spoke it, or they are frigid and c\cn 
 unmeaning. What translation can give any idea to the 
 Knglish reader of the bitter ami contemptuous emphasis, 
 and the powerful effect with which Demosthenes pro- 
 nounces his Max:c)wv u^^ti^, or o{ the force of that eloquent hor- 
 ror and astonishment with which Cicero exclaims against 
 the crucifixion of a Roman citizen ? 
 
 In this connexion, we would insist upon the stores of 
 knowledge which are sealed up to all who are not conver- 
 sant with the learned languages. This is a trite topic, but 
 not the less important on that account. V>y far the most 
 serious and engrossing concern of man — revealed religion^ — 
 is built upon this foundation. The meaning of the .Scrip- 
 tures, which it is so important to understand, cm be ex- 
 plained only b\' scholars, and the controversies of the pres- 
 ent day, turn almost exclusively upon points of biblical 
 criticism, &c. How cdu a divine, whose circumstances allow 
 him any leisure, sit down in ignorance of such things? How 
 can he consent to take the awful information which he ini- 
 ])arts to the multitudes committed to his care, at second 
 hand? .Surely here, if any where, it may emphatically be 
 said tardi ingcnii est conscctari rivulos, f antes rcruui nan 77- 
 dirc. Indeed, this single consideration i-^ wcight\- enough,
 
 Education in Charleston. 55 
 
 to iTKiintain the learned languai^-os in their phiecs in all the 
 Universities of Christendom. 
 
 But it is not to Theolo<^nans only that this branch of study 
 is of great importance. How is the Jurist to have access to 
 the Corpus Juris Civi/is, of which Mr. Grimke expresses so 
 exalted an opinion? We agree with him hi this opinion, 
 and while we deem with a mysterious reverence of our old 
 and excellent Common Law — uncodified as it is— still we 
 woukl ha\'e our lawyers to be deeply versed in the juridical 
 wisdom of antiquit\\ Why? For the very same reason 
 that we think it desirable that a literary man should be 
 master of various languages, viz: to make him distinguish 
 what is essentiall}-, universally and eternally good and true, 
 from what is the result of accident, of local circumstances, 
 or the fleeting opinions of a da\'. That most invaluable of 
 intellectual qualities— which ought to be the object of all 
 discipline, as it is the perfection of all reason — a sound judg- 
 ment, can be acquired only by such diversified and compre- 
 hensive comparisons. All other systems rear up bigots and 
 pedants, instead of liberal and enlightened philosophers. 
 Besides, every school has its mannerism and its mania, for 
 \vhich there is no cure but intercourse with those who are 
 free from them, and constant access to the models of perfect 
 and immutable excellence, which other ages have produced, 
 and all ages have acknowledged. To point the previous ob- 
 servations, \\-hich are o{ very general application, more par- 
 ticularly to a topic touched upon before; even admitting 
 that modern literature were as widely different from the 
 ancient as the enemies of the latter contend, yet that would 
 be no reason for neglecting the study of the classics, but 
 just the contrary. Human nature being the same in all 
 ages, we may be sure that men agree in more points than 
 they disagree in, and the best corrective of the extravagan- 
 cies into which i\\Cw pccuiiaritit's betray them, is to contrast 
 them with the opposite peculiarities of others. If the ten- 
 dency, therefore, of the modern or romantic style is to mys- 
 ticism, irregularity and exaggeration — and that of the classi- 
 cal, to an excess of precision and severity, he would be least
 
 ^6 Mtiyor CourtiJhir s An'iKdi RtVJi'i'. 
 
 liable to fall into the excesses dl eitiier, who was ec[uall}' 
 versed in the excellencies of both. Certainly a critic who 
 has studied both Shakspeare and Sophocles, must have a 
 juster notion of the true excellence of dramatic composit- 
 ion, than he who has only studietl one of them. Where 
 lhe\- agreed he'would be sure the\- were both rii^ht ; where 
 they happened, as they frequently do. to differ, he would, 
 at once, be led to reflect much, before he awarded the pref- 
 erence to either, and to have a care lest, in indulei^ing that 
 preference, he should overstep the bounds of propriety and 
 •• the modesty of nature." It is thus, we repeat it, and only 
 thus, that sound critics, sound ])hilosophers, sound legisla- 
 tors, and lawyers worthy of their noble profession, can be 
 formed. 
 
 There are other kinds u\ knowledge, besides what is inter- 
 esting to divines and jurists, locked up in the learned lan- 
 guages. Whole branches of history and miscellaneous lite- 
 rature — of themselves extensive enough to occupy the study 
 of a life. Look into Du Cange, Muratori, Fabricius, &c. In 
 short, we pronounce, without fear of contradiction, that no 
 man can make any pretensions to erudition, who is not \'ers- 
 ed in Greek and Latin. He must be forever at a loss, and 
 unable to helj) himself to what he wants in man)- depart- 
 ments of knowledge, even sui)i)osing him to ha\e the curi- 
 osity t(j cultivate them, which is hardl\- to be expected of 
 one who will not be at the pains of acquiring the proper 
 means to do so with success. |-"or we have alua)-s thought 
 and still think — Air. Grimke's speculative opinions being 
 outweighed by his (nvn practice — that those who refuse to 
 study a branch of learning so fundamental and so universally 
 held in veneration as the classics, have forgotten " tlie know- 
 thyself," when they prattle about profound erudition. In 
 addition to all this, we venture to affirm tliat the shortest 
 way to ihe knowledge of the History, .\ntiquities, IMii- 
 losoph)-, ^cc, of all those ages, whose opinions and doings 
 have been recorded iti (ireek and Latin, even su])posing 
 1-nglish writers to have gone over the same ground, is 
 through the originals. Compare the knowledge which a
 
 Education in Charleston. 5.7 
 
 scholar acquires, not only of the policy and the res gestee of 
 the Roman Emperors, but of the minutest shades and in- 
 most recesses of their character, and that of the times in 
 which they reigned, from the living pictures of Tacitus and 
 Suetonius, w ith the cold, general, feeble, and what is worse, 
 far from just and precise idea of the same things, com- 
 municated by modern authors. The difference is incalcula- 
 ble. It is that between the true Homeric Achilles and the 
 Monsieur or Monseigneur Achille of the Theatre Francais, 
 at the beginning of the last centur)', with his bob w ig and 
 small sword. When we read of those times in English, we 
 attach modern nieanings to ancient words, and associate the 
 ideas of our own age and country, with objects altogether 
 foreign from them. In this point of view, as in every other, 
 the cause of the classics is that of all sound learning. 
 
 We mention as another important consideration, that the 
 knowledge of these languages brings us acquainted, fa- 
 miliarly, minutely and impressively, with a state of society 
 altogether unlike any thing that we see in modern times. 
 When we read a foreign author of our own da}-, we occa- 
 sionalh', indeed, remark differences in taste, in character and 
 customs; but in general, wo. find ourselves en pays de 
 connaissance. Modern civilization, of which one most im- 
 portant element is a common religion, is pretty unifoim. 
 But the moment we open a Greek book, we are struck with 
 the change. W'c are in quite a new M'orld, combining all 
 that is wonderful in iiction, with all that is instructive in 
 truth. Manners and customs, education, religion, national 
 charactei", every thing is original and peculiar. Consider 
 the priest and the temple, the altar and the sacrilice, the 
 chorus and the festal pomp, the gymnastic exercises, and 
 those Oh'mpic games, whither universal Greece repaired 
 with all her wealth, her strength, her genius and taste — 
 where the greatest cities and kings, and the other first men 
 of their day, partook with an enthusiastic rivalry, scarcely 
 conceivabJe to us, in the interest of the occasion, whether 
 it was a race, a boxing match, a contest of musicians, or an 
 oration, or a noble history to be read to the mingled 
 8
 
 ;8 Mnvor Coiirtcnny s Annual Rcviiii.'. 
 
 tlironsr — and where the horse and the rider, tlie chariot and 
 the charioteer, were consecrated by the lionors of the crown, 
 and the renown of the triuinphal odo. Look into tlie 
 theatres where "the lofty ^rave tragedians" contend, in 
 their turn, for the favor of the same cultivated people, and 
 where Aristophanes, in verses, which. b\- the confession of 
 all critics, were never surpassed in ener^^)- and spirit, in attic 
 purity and the most exquisite modulations of harmony, is 
 lujiding up Socrates — the wisest of mankind — to the con- 
 tempt and ridicule of the mob; if tiiat Athenian Demus, 
 that could only be successfully courted with such verses, 
 does not disdain the appellation. Next go to the schools. 
 or rather the shady walks of philosophy — single one object 
 (jut of the interesting groupe— let it be the most prominent — 
 he, in short, who for the same reason was made to play so 
 conspicuous a part in the "Clouds." Consider the habits of 
 this hero of Greek philosophy, according to Xenophon's ac- 
 count* of them ; how unlike any thing v.e have heard of 
 among the moderns : passing his whole life abroad and in 
 public — early in the morm"ng visiting the g)-mnasia and the 
 most frequented walks, and about the time that the market- 
 ])Iace was getting full, resorting thither, and all the rest of 
 the day presenting himself wheresoever the greatest con- 
 course of people was to be found, offering to answer any 
 question in philosopln- which might be propounded to him 
 by the inquisitive. .Above all, contemplate the fierce 
 democracy in the popular assemblv. listening to the 
 harangues of orators, at once, with the jealousy of a t\Tant 
 and the fastidiousness of the most sensitive critics, and 
 sometimes with the lc\it\', the simplicity, and the wa\ward 
 passions of childhood. Read their orations — above all, his. 
 whose incredible pains to prepare himself for the perilous 
 l)ost of a dcinagogitc, and whose triumphant success in it, 
 everybody has heard of — how dramatic, how mighty, how 
 sublimel Think of the face of the country itself, its monu- 
 mental art, its cities adorned w ith whatever is most perfect 
 and most magnificent in architecture — its ])ublic places 
 
 ♦ ^lcn^clr;lll. i \ !
 
 lidiirntioit in Charleston. 5,(; 
 
 peopled with the forms of ideal beauty — the pure air, the 
 warm and cloudless sk\', the whole earth covered with the 
 trophies of genius, and the very atmosph.ere .secminj:^ to shed 
 over all the selectest influence, and to breathe, if we may 
 hazard the expression, of that native Ionian elegance which 
 was in e\'ery object it enveloped. 
 
 It is impossible to contemplate the annals of dreek litera- 
 ture and art, without being struck with them, as by far the 
 most extraordinary and brilliant phenomenon in the history 
 of the human mind. The very language — even in its 
 primitive simplicity, as it came down from the rhapsodists 
 M'ho celebrated the exploits of Hercules and Theseus, was 
 as great a wonder as any it records. All the other tongues 
 that civilized men have spoken, are poor and feeble, and 
 barbarous, in comparison of it. its compass and flexibilit)-, 
 its riches and its powers, are altogether unlimited. It not 
 only expresses w ith precision, all that is thought or known 
 at any given period, but it enlarges itself naturall\-, with the 
 progress of science, and affords, as if without an effort, a 
 new phrase, or a systematic nomenclature v.henever one is 
 called for. It is ecjually adapted to ever\' variety of st}-Ie 
 and subject — to the most shadowy subtlety of distinction, 
 and the utmost cxactnesss of definition, as well as to the 
 energy and the pathos of popular eloquence — to the majest\-, 
 the elevation, the variety of the Epic, and the boldest 
 license of the Dithyrambic, no less than to the sweetness 
 of the Elegy, the simplicity of the Pastoral, or the heedless 
 gaiety and delicate characterization of Comedy. Above 
 all, what is an unspeakable charm — a sort of naivete is 
 peculiar to it, and appears in all those various styles, and is 
 quite as becoming and agreeable in a historian or a philoso- 
 pher — Xenophon for instance — as in the light and jocund 
 numbers of Anacreon. Indeed, were there no other object 
 in learning Greek but to see to what perfection language is 
 capable of being carried, not only as a medium of communi- 
 cation, but as an instrument of thought, we see not why the 
 time of a young man .would not be just as well bestowed in 
 acquiring a knowledge of it — for all the purposes, at least,
 
 6o Miiy.^r Lottrtiunv's Annual Rt"h7c. 
 
 of a liberal or elementary education— as in learning Algebra, 
 another specimen of a language or arrangement of signs 
 perfect in its kind. Hut this wonderful idiom happens to 
 have been spoken, as was hinted in the preceding paragraph. 
 by a race as wonderful. The very first monument of their 
 •jenius — the most ancient relic of letters in the Western 
 ^vorld — stands to this day altogether unrivalled in the ex- 
 alted class to which it belongs. What was the history of 
 this immortal poem and of its great fellow? Was it a 
 single individual, and who was he, that composed them? 
 Had he any master or model? What had been his educa- 
 tion, and what was the state of society in which he lived? 
 These questions are full of interest to a philosophic inquirer 
 into the intellectual history of the species, but they are 
 especially important v.ith a view to the subject of the pres- 
 ent discussion. Whatever causes account for the matchless 
 excellence of these primitive poems, and fur that of the 
 language in which thev are written, will go far to explain 
 the extraordinary circumstance, that the same favored 
 people left nothing unattempted in philosophy, in letters 
 and ill arts, and attempted nothing without signal, and in 
 some cases, unrivalled success. Winkelman undertakes to 
 assign some reasons for this astonishing superiority of the 
 Greeks, and talks very learnedly about a fine climate, deli- 
 cate organs, exquisite susceptibility, the full development 
 of the human form by gymnastic exercises, &:c. For our 
 own parts, we are content to explain the phenomenon after 
 the manner of the Scottish school of metaphysicians, in 
 which we learned the little that we profess to know of that 
 department of philosophy, by resolving it at once into an 
 original law of nature: in other words, by substantially, but 
 decently, confessing it to be inexplicable. Hut whether it 
 was idiosyncrasy or discipline, or whatever was the cause, 
 it is enough for the purposes of the present discussion, that 
 \hc /nc/ is unquestionable. 
 
 In discussing the very important question whether bo\-s 
 ought to be made to study the classics as a regular part of 
 education, the innovators put the case in the strongest
 
 Rducation in Charleston. 61 
 
 possible manner against the present s\-stem ; bv ars^uinga.s 
 if the young pupil, under tliis discipHne, was to learn notliing 
 else but language itself. We admit that this notion has 
 received some sort ot countenance from the excessive atten- 
 tion paid in English schools to prosody, and tlie fact that 
 their great scholars have been, perhaps (with man\' excep- 
 tions to be sure), more distinguished by the refinement of 
 their scholarship than the extent and profoundness of their 
 erudition. But the grand advantage of a classical education 
 consists far less in acquiring a language or two, \vhich, as 
 languages, are to serve for use or for ornament in future 
 life, than in the things that are learned in making that ac- 
 quisition, and yet more in the maimer of learning those 
 things. It is a wild conceit to suppose that the branches of 
 knowledge, which are most rich and extensive, and most 
 deserve to engage the researches of a mature mind, are, 
 therefore, the best for training a young one. Metaphysics, 
 for instance, as we have already intimated, although in the 
 last degree unprofitable as a science, is a suitable and ex- 
 cellent, perhaps, a necessary part of the intellectual disci- 
 pline of youth. On the contrary, international law is ex- 
 tremely important to be known by publicists and statesmen ; 
 but it would be absurd to put Vattel (as we have ourselves 
 seen it done in a once celebrated academ)', in a certain part 
 of the United States) into the hands of a lad of fifteen or 
 sixteen. We will admit, therefore, what has been roundly- 
 asserted at hazard, and \\ithout rhyme or reason, that clas- 
 sical scholars discontinue these studies after they are grown 
 wise enough to know their futility, and only read as much 
 Greek and Latin as is necessary to keep up their knowledge 
 of them, or rather to save appearances and gull credulous 
 people ; yet wo. maintain that the concession does not affect 
 the result of this controversy in the least. We regard the 
 whole period of childhood and of youth — up to the age of 
 sixteen or seventeen, and perhaps longer— as one allotted 
 by nature to growth and improvement in the strictest sense 
 of those words. The flexible powers are to be trained rather 
 than tasked— to be carefully and continually practised m
 
 62 Mtiyoi Li'iirfiiinys Aiinunl Riviitc. 
 
 the prcparator}- exercises, but not to be loaded with biir- 
 ihcns that nia\' criisli thcin. ov be broken down b\- over- 
 strained efforts of the race. It is in \outh that Montaigne's 
 maxim, ahvaj-s excellent, is cspcciall)- applicabie--that the 
 important question is, not who is most learned, but w ho h.is 
 learned the best. Now, we confess we have no faitii at all 
 in young prodigies — in your philosophers in teens. W i 
 have generally found these precocious smattercrs sink in a 
 few years into barrencss and inibecilit}-, and that as they 
 begin by being men when they ought to be boys, so the\- 
 end in being bo\-s when they ought to be men. If we woukl 
 have good fruit, we must wait until it is in season. Nature 
 herself has pointed out, too clearly to be misunderstood, 
 the proper studies of childhood and youth. The senses are 
 first developed — observation and memor}- follow — then 
 imagination begins to dream and to credtc — afterwards 
 ratiocination or the dialectical propensity and facultx' shoots 
 up with great rankness — and, last of all, the crowning per- 
 fection of intellect, sound judgment and sf)liil reason, which, 
 by much experience in life, at lenglh ri])cns into wisdom. 
 The vicissitudes of the seasons, and the consequent;:hanges 
 in the face of nature, and the cares and occupations of the 
 husbandman, are not more clearly distinguished or more 
 unalterably ordained. To break in upon this harmonious 
 order, to attempt to anticipate these pre-established periods. 
 what is it, as Cicero has it, but. after the manner of the 
 Giants, to war against the laws of the Universe, and the 
 wisdom that created it? Antl why do so? Is not the 
 space in human life, between the eighth and the twertieth 
 year, cpiitc large enough for acquiring dc'ry bianch ol 
 liberal knowledge, as well as the\- need, or, indeed, can be 
 acquired in youth ? I'or instance, we cite the opinion of 
 Condorcet, repeatedly quoted, with approbation. b\- DugaUl 
 Stewart, and. if wc mistake not, by Professor I'la) f.iir too 
 (both of them the highest authority on such a subject), that 
 any one ma\-, under competent teachers, acquire all that 
 Xcwton or La Place knew, in iico \ears. The same obser- 
 wition. of course, applies a Jorliori to any other branch of
 
 Education in Charleston. 63 
 
 science. As for the modern languages, the study of French 
 ought to be begun earl)- for the sake of the pronunciation, 
 and continued thorough the whole course as it may be, \\\\.\\- 
 out the smallest incon\enicnce. Of German we say nothing, 
 because we cannot speak of our own knowledge ; but for 
 Italian and Spanish, however difficult they may be — 
 especially their poetry — to a mere English scholar, they are 
 so easy of acquisition to an\' one who understands Latin, 
 that it is not worth while even to notice them in our scheme. 
 All that we ask then, is, that a boy should be thoroughly 
 taught the ancient languages from his eighth to liis six- 
 teenth }'ear, or thereabouts, in which time he will liavc his 
 taste formed, his love of letters complete]}^, perhaps enthu- 
 siastically awakened, his knowledge of the principles of uni- 
 versal grammar perfected, his memory stored with the his- 
 tory, the geography and the chronology of all antiquity, 
 and with a vast fund of miscellaneous literature besides, his 
 imagination kindled with the most beautiful and glowing- 
 passages of Greek and Roman poetry and eloquence, all the 
 rules of criticism familiar to him, the sayings of sages and 
 the achievements of heroes, indelibly impressed upon his 
 heart. lie will have his curiosity fired for further ac- 
 quisition, and find himself in possession of the golden keys 
 which open all the recesses where the stores of knowledge 
 have ever been laid up by civilized man. I'he conscioue-:- 
 ness of strength will give him confidence, and he will go to 
 the rich treasures themselves and take what he wants, in- 
 stead of picking up eleemosynary scraps from those whom, 
 in spite of himself, he will regard as his betters in literature. 
 He will be let into that great com.munion of scholars 
 throuohout all a^'es and all nations — like that more awful 
 communion of saints of the Holy Church Universal— and 
 feel a sympathy with departed genius, and with the enlight- 
 ened and the gifted minds of other countries, as they ap- 
 pear before him, in the transports of a sort of Vision Beati- 
 fic, bowing down at the same slirines and glowing with the 
 same holy love of whatever is most pure and fair, and ex- 
 alted and divine in human nature. Above all, our Amen-
 
 ^4 Mayor Ctf/tr/t/iiiy's .limiiol /^ii'iiw. 
 
 can \outh will learn that liberty— u hich is succt to all 
 men, but which is the passion of proud niinds that can- 
 not stoop to less— has been the nurse of all that is sublime 
 in character and genius. i'hey will see her form and feel 
 her influence in every thing that antiquity has left for our 
 admiration — that bards consecrated their harps to her^ 
 that she spoke from the lips of mighty orators — that she 
 fought and conquered, acted and suffered with the heroes 
 whom she had formed and inspired ; and after ages of glory 
 and \ irtue fell w ith ////// — her all-accomplished iiopc — //////, 
 thelA^ltii- Romans — the self-immolated martyr of I'hil- 
 ippi. Our \oung student will find his devotion to his 
 country — his free cmmtry — become at once more fervid 
 aiul more enlightened, and think" scorn of the wretched 
 creatures w lu) have scoffed at the sublime simplicity of her 
 institutions, and "esteem it" as one expresses it. who 
 learnetl to be a republican in the schools of antiquit)', 
 " much better to imitate the old and elegant humanit)- of 
 Cjreece, than the barbaric pride of a Norwegian or llunnish 
 stateliness ; " and let us add, will come much more to de- 
 spise that slavisii and nauseating subservienc)' to rank and 
 title with which all Muropean literature is steeped through 
 and through. If .Americans arc to stud)' any foreign liter- 
 ature at all, it ought undoubtedly to be the Classical, aih/ 
 I specially ttw (irccky
 
 •..dBi^lah^^^ 
 
 EDUCATION IN CHARLESTON, S. C. 
 
 From the City Year Book, 1882. 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 I — Manual Training Recommfxded in Common Schools— Its Prac 
 TicAL Operation in the Workingman's School in New York, 
 
 II— Superintendent Simons' Report of City Public Schools. 
 
 Ill— Holy Communion Church Institute— Catholic Schools — Wal- 
 lingkord Academy — Avery Normal Institute. 
 
 IV— Public School Work in South Carolina in 1S82, from the An- 
 nual Report of the Staie Superintendent of Education. 
 
 V- Visit of the Rev. A. D. Mayo, D. D., to Charleston. 
 
 VI— Act of General Assembly Rearranging City School Districts 
 AND Providing for a New School Board at the Municipal 
 Election December, 1883. 
 
 VII — .\nnual Report of High School— Classics and Physical Cul- 
 ture leading features. 
 
 VIII— The College of Charleston — Founded 1785— The facilities it 
 
 AFFORDS for LIBERAL EDUCATION AT IIOME, AND ITS CLAIMS UPON 
 
 THE Community. 
 IX — Reopening of the Citadel .\cademy October ist, 1882, 
 X— Classical Learning— An Essay by the late Hon. Hugh S. Le- 
 gare, from the Southern Review, 1828. 
 
 Hon. L. F. Yoinnans South Carolina College Address — 1S81. 
 
 " Shall I lell this audience that in all contests in life, from the most insignifi- 
 cant to the most important, from the Derby and the Goodwood Turf to the 
 great Olympic races of life for the grandest prizes of human ambition and 
 earthly interest, it is training, preparation, perfect education, that always wins? 
 What makes the huge wall crash before the course of the slight ball? 'Tis ac- 
 celerated educated force. Life is real. Life is earnest. Life is the verb to do. 
 Life is ctywu — strife ; and in strife in this right masterful world, the weaker 
 must go to the wall. 'Imperiniii' said Sallust eighteen hundred years ago in 
 the regal language of Rome, ^impentim his artibus retinettir quilms initio partttin 
 est.' Empire, command, e^tcellence, influence, are retained, and can be retained, 
 only by the exercise of those high qualities of the soul by which they were origi- 
 nally obtained. This truth is resonant on every page of recorded history from 
 the grey da,wn of antiquity to the year of grace in which we live ; it has been 
 echoed and re-echoed down all the corridors of time. As they sank for the last 
 time beneath the wave which has engulfed so many priceless argosifes, it has 
 rung in the ears of mighty peoples that have preceded us ; it may ring again in 
 the ears of as mighty peoples that may succeed us ; it will ring in ours, if we 
 neglect the priceless lessons which it teaches."
 
 ¥■■
 
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