Now, what I maintain, and what the advocates of the new education ought to insist upon in the discussion of this question, is, that this exalted faculty of invention, both in its mental and its physical aspects-both as to mind and body, brain and mus cle-is susceptible of cultivation in the same manner and to the same degree as all other human faculties. The mind can be directed by appropriate training into habits of inventive thought. It can be habituated to look for possible utilities in all objects and phenomena that present themselves to the senses, and trained to embody these ideas in concrete forms and mechanisms. This is genuine invention. The process consists in forming a mental conception of a given utility, and then in working out the modifications necessary to realize it. It is true that this is now constantly done in the construction of all kinds of useful objects, labor-saving machines, and ingenious devices. But the great mistake lies in supposing that this state of things cannot or should not be increased. It can be increased by education to any desired degree, and such a degree can be conceived of as might relieve mankind of nearly all the drudgery that has now to be performed.

The greater part of this most useful of all forms of thought and action is now lost for want of opportunity. Education furnishes opportunity. The opportunities for the exercise of this faculty are constantly occurring to all, but for want of its culti vation they go unperceived. Only those who train this faculty perceive them. It is known that in recent times invention is becoming a sort of profession, to be followed by any one who may choose it, like engineering or architecture. No one claims that engineers, like poets, are born, not made. Neither are inventors; but in the one case, as in the other, they require a course of study and training. A few persons follow invention as a business. They devote their whole energies to working out possible improvements in all kinds of machines and in the thousands of manufactured objects in use by society, and they occasionally hit upon an entirely new practical conception. The field is unlimited, but the practical difficulties are great, and it would be easy to prove that invention not only cannot, but ought not, to take rank alongside of the other professions. The

fact of its being so followed by a few is cited merely to show that the difficulty does not lie in the differences in natural capacity. Professional inventors are not by nature more ingenious than some others who have never invented anything. They may have fallen into that line of work by accident or by force of circumstances. The degree of ingenuity doubtless differs in different individuals as widely as other forms of genius; but, like other forms of genius, it is apt to reveal itself where least expected when an occasion is presented for its development. The power to perceive material utilities and successful methods of realizing them cannot be correlated with other faculties. Persons of great ability in other directions may have this faculty in a very limited degree. Others who are commonly rated as mentally deficient have been known to possess it in a highly developed state. Therefore a system of education should be broad enough to call it out wherever it is found in a latent condition.

It is popularly supposed that great inventions spring fullfledged from a few great brains. This is a gross mistake. It is true that certain names are associated with most of the epochmaking inventions, but a study of their history always shows that there had been a series of antecedent steps leading up to them. Formerly it was more common for these useful modifications of nature to be thought out by educated men who had little or no direct contact with the particular art or craft with which they were connected. But nowadays all inventions are in the nature of "improvements" upon pre-existing inventions, and are chiefly made by the mechanics or artisans of the higher grades, who are constantly using the original devices, and who, through an intimate acquaintance with these, eventually perceive how they may be improved. This is as it should be, and as artisans become more intelligent this class of inventions will increase. The one who works with a tool or runs a machine is obviously the proper person to suggest its improvement. Nothing but the stolid ignorance of the working-classes in the past has prevented this from having always been the chief mode of advancing the useful arts. And it is hoped that in the near future the artisan as well as the engineer may not only receive

a good education in the hitherto accepted sense of the term, but may also have such a training of the eye and the hand as will enable him to perceive and to effect all possible reforms in his chosen field of labor. The idea that an educated man is too good to be a mechanic is fast losing its hold upon society. So long as only enough could be educated to fill the learned profes sions the need of cultivating the inventive powers was far less than now. The lawyer, the physician, the clergyman had comparatively little use for such a faculty. But already, and more and more each year, the boy who is educated at the public school is destined to pass the greater part of his life in the pursuit of some productive industry. Let the higher faculties be brought to bear upon such pursuits. Very few of the higher branches taught in the grammar and high-schools can directly help the artisan in his daily life and business, but everything that he is taught to do or to make will count toward his future efficiency. Especially will he be able to apply all the training he may have received in that art of arts of which we have been speaking, the detection and creation of utilities. Notwithstanding our boasts of inventive genius the thoughtful person is constantly annoyed by gross mechanical maladjustments. He can scarcely walk the street, or ride in a public conveyance, or sit in a private parlor, or use the utensils that are provided for performing any kind of work, or, indeed, transact any business of whatever nature, without being made to feel how little comfort, convenience, accuracy, or dispatch has been studied in any of the operations of every-day life. To enumerate the many cases of this class that occur to me as I write would only be to give illustrations which would be paralleled at once in the mind of every reader. Everywhere we see the lack of thought directed to the improvement of our material surroundings. This is because the importance of improving those surroundings forms no part of the education which is given to the youth of the country.

In a practical course of instruction, which it is not the purpose here to outline, these final results must, of course, be reached by a graduated system of training, leading up from small beginnings through the simpler arts, especially those of

drawing, modeling, stenciling, carving, decorating, etc. The dealing with materials must precede the dealing with forces. But they are fundamentally one, since the qualities of substances are the manifestations of natural forces on a reduced scale. But the very inertia of inelastic substances, like clay or papiermaché, furnishes a valuable discipline and fitting preparation for the subsequent study of elastic bodies, expansive fluids, and powerful natural agencies to be controlled and utilized. In either case what is most important to be taught is the formation of a mental image of the utility to be created. The designing of patterns and models is a simple form of invention involving the same intellectual process as is required to survey a railroad or construct a bridge. Just as the architect is superior to the carpenter, so design in the minor arts and invention in the major ones are superior in importance, as objects of education, to the mere manipulation required to materialize these ideal conceptions. Education should aim high. The purely theoretical, so long as it is true, is better than the merely practical. Much harm has been done by the so-called practical educationalists in advocating manual training on these narrow grounds, and still more harm has probably resulted from the attempt on the part of teachers to accomplish too special and definite ends. The broader the generalization upon which a system of education is based the more acceptable and effective it becomes. If the truth with which we started out, that civilization consists essentially in the practical subjugation of nature to man's uses through the adoption of more and more perfect devices for utilizing material substances and mechanical forces, could be popularly understood and believed, there would be no further need to plead for industrial education. Instead of an experiment grudgingly tried, it would at once be recognized as the true end of all education, to which all other forms of education would stand in the relation of means.

The world has moved by virtue of what has been done in it, and only indirectly by what has been known. The French saying, "Qu'est ce qu'une foi qui n'agit pas?" applies to a system of education which teaches to know and not to do. And it is no secret that a large part of what now passes for education, both of the lower and of the higher kind, is thus sterile.

To give it results is to give it life, and the introduction of the element of work is literally breathing into a moribund system the breath of life. It could be defended, if upon no other ground, as the best means of indicating what the world ought to know. For art, in the last analysis, rests upon science. Even the most empirical art is not the outcome of chance, but of knowledge acquired through experience. And if we give to the term "utility" the breadth of meaning that properly belongs to it, no knowledge which cannot be utilized is worth conferring. This canon, even with the most liberal construction, would still sweep away a large amount of the current education, to which far more time and energy are devoted than would be consumed in reducing all the useful knowledge conferred to productive practice.

The word "training" seems to be admirably calculated to express the central thought in the new education. Nothing is more familiar than the immense difference between the trained and the untrained faculties. It is all the difference between 'eyes and no eyes." Whatever one's practical interests require to be attended to, that will be observed with an accuracy and minuteness which often astonish the uninitiated. But the fac ulties are specialized, and each one sees only what concerns him. The scientific habit widens the scope of this minute observation, but not beyond the specialty of each investigator. Thus, the lumberman can accurately describe the bark and the wood of any tree with which he is acquainted, but if asked the shape of the leaf he can give no idea of it. The botanist can describe the whole tree, but he cannot tell by what insects it is infested. This the entomologist can do, although he can give but a vague account of the tree. It has been well said that, keen as are the senses of the North American Indians in observing nature, there never was an Indian who could distinguish the two dwarf wil lows of the White Mountains from each other. Animals are also close observers, but only of what specially interests them. In traveling through a country horses see only horses and dogs see only dogs, but these they see before men become aware of their presence. Wild animals are very knowing, but their acuteness is confined to the pursuit of subsistence and the escape from danger. In every case it is the result of training in the