work upon, a dull tool with a wealth of material, can neither of them turn out much of value.
We please ourselves by saying that experience is the best teacher, that the world is the best schoolhouse, that travel is the best education. But in reality we prevent experience, we shut out the world, we disallow travel. We ask children to reason and reflect about a world that they do not yet know. Surely this is unphilosophic. We give them small perceptual knowledge—mainly what they get on holidays and when they play truant—and spend nearly all our time in attempting to build larger logical structures than we have the material for—bricks without straw. It is this that makes the school teacher's life hard. It is not working with the children. The children are the most lovable and interesting part of creation. It is in attempting impossible tasks. It is a very large part of the philosophy of manual training that the senses shall be alert and keen—good tools; that the brain shall be well developed and active—a good workman; that the store of perceptual knowledge shall be full and accurate—good material to work upon. And it seems to me that we have here a recognition of cause and effect that is not only in the highest degree logical, but is also far ahead of the position taken by any other scheme of education.
Furthermore, it is very evident that not only is every bodily act preceded by a mental act, but if it produce a new sensation is followed as well by a distinct mental reaction. The circulation is complete. If we arrange a series of bodily acts, we bring about a corresponding series of mental reactions, and if we arrange the bodily acts with sufficient cleverness, we bring about a series of mental reactions of high educational value. This is what manual training attempts to do—to utilize this newly apprehended avenue of approach to the spirit. It arranges a series of bodily acts, for the most part having to do with the hand and eye, and does so simply and solely for the sake of the mental reactions that follow upon these acts. While the term manual training is roughly descriptive of the outer fact, you will notice that the real purpose and essence of the training are mental.
I need not point out the evolutionary significance of such a training. If we accept evolution, if we believe that man is the reaction of the world environment on the human spirit, we will not be slow to seize upon the thought that it is now possible to direct this reaction and so make evolution a conscious process. Do you see that manual training attempts to do precisely this thing—to create a definite bodily environment in order to bring about definite spiritual results? Nor need I point out again how absolutely such a scheme is dependent for its justification upon our philosophy, how
