humanised with that of the Kentuckian so described. Indeed the only
difficulty in the way of such teaching as is here suggested, is the
degree to which the words "lady" and "gentleman" have been lowered from
their original dignity.

The utilization of the social sentiment as a motive of conduct in the
young need not, however, depend on such terms, though these are by no
means beyond new moralization in any home or school. An eminent
Englishman told me that he once found his little son pointing an old
pistol at his sister. The ancient pistol was not dangerous, but the
action was. "Had I told him it was dangerous," he said, "it might only
have added spice to the thing, but I said, 'I am surprised. I thought
you were a little gentleman, but that is the most ungentlemanly thing
you could do.' The boy quickly laid aside the pistol, with deep shame. I
have found nothing so restraining for my children as to suggest that any
conduct is ungentlemanly or unladylike." And let my reader note well the
great moral principles in these rules of civility and decent behaviour.
The antithesis of "sinfull" is "manfull." Washington was taught that all
good conduct was gentlemanly, all bad conduct ill-bred.

It is to be hoped that the time is not far distant when in every school
right rules of civility will be taught as a main part of the curriculum.
Something of the kind was done by the late Bronson Alcott, in the school
he founded in Boston, Massachusetts, near fifty years ago, for children
gathered from the street. The school was opened every morning with a
"conduct lesson," as it was called. It will be seen by Miss Elizabeth
Peabody's "Records of a School" that the children crowded to the door
before it was, opened in their anxiety not to lose a word of this
lesson. And, rude as most of the children were, this instruction,
consisting of questions and answers, gradually did away with all