war had just begun--that the real enemies were
not subdued, and that these enemies were ignorance, superstition and
incompetence.

The pitiable condition of four million human beings, flung from slavery
into freedom, thrown upon their own resources, with no thought of
responsibility, and with no preparation for the change, meant for them
only another kind of slavery.

General Armstrong's heart went out to them--he desired to show them how
to be useful, helpful, self-reliant, healthy. For the whites of the
South he had only high regard and friendship. He, of all men, knew how
they had suffered from the war--and he realized also that they had
fought for what they believed was right. In his heart there was no hate.
He resolved to give himself--his life--his fortune--his intellect--his
love--his all, for the upbuilding of the South. He saw with the vision
of a prophet that indolence and pride were the actual enemies of white
and black alike. The blacks must be taught to work--to know the dignity
of human labor--to serve society--to help themselves by helping others.
He realized that there are no menial tasks--that all which serves is
sacred.

And this is the man who sowed the seeds of truth in the heart of the
nameless black boy--Booker Washington. Armstrong's shibboleth, too, was,
"With malice toward none, but with charity for all, let us finish the
work God has given us to do."

* * * * *

I do not know very much about this subject of education, yet I believe I
know as much about what others know about it as most people. I have
visited the principal colleges of America and Europe, and the methods of
Preparatory and High Schools are to me familiar. I know the
night-schools of the cities, the "Ungraded Rooms," the Schools for
Defectives, the educational schemes in prisons, the Manual-Training
Schools, the New Education (first suggested by Socrates) as carried out
by G. Stanley Hall, John Dewey, and dozens of other good men and women
in America. I am familiar with the School for the Deaf at Malone, New
York, and the School for the Blind at Batavia, where even the sorely
stricken are taught to be self-sufficient, self-supporting and happy. I
have tumbled down the circular fire-escape at Lapeer with the inmates of
the Home of Epileptics, and heard the shouts of laughter from lips that
never laughed before. I have seen the Jewish Manual Training School of
Chicago transform Russian refugees