this full purpose we shall need the cultivation of all the senses. What we want, then, is not only manual training; it is something larger than this—tactile training, the training of the eye, the ear, the hand in a word, the cultivation of all the senses. And this, bear in mind once and always, not alone because the development of these senses means a large addition to the practical art of living, but still more because such a development means increased brain power, and the consequent generation of men and women of greater worth.
We hold manual training, then, not as the last word in education, but rather as a mere preliminary word—a preface which is to lead to that fuller unfolding of human faculty which will eventually be the meaning and purpose of education. We are engaged in a process, the unfolding and perfecting of the human spirit. We can accomplish this process intelligently only by keeping in mind the ideal we wish to realize. It is well to stop from time to time and examine this ideal—to state clearly to ourselves just what it is—and then, in the light of this knowledge, to examine into the efficacy of our chosen means. What do I mean when I say "a man"? Why do I feel a thrill quite different in kind and degree from the feeling aroused by such words as "wealth," "knowledge," "country"? What is this creature who is thus able to arouse in me the deepest reverence of which I am capable? Certainly it is not the average man of the streets, whose main study is bread and butter, with a casual thought to the rearing of progeny. Certainly not the petty trader who barters the glories of a universe for a few trinkets he calls wealth. One can not seriously cherish as an ideal any of the million of dead souls who daily walk our streets and with their small activities pester the beauty out of the days. To discard these types is not pessimism. It is rather a loyal optimism which insists upon the essential dignity and worth of manhood. When I say "a man" I mean a creature very different from these ghosts of the market and factory. I mean a radiant man, one who is the center of an abounding life and in whom is fulfilled the promise of the days. It is quite possible that by holding men so dear we should make certain material enterprises, now much esteemed, entirely out of the question; but, if so, we can better afford to lose the enterprise than the men. It is a devil's price which is paid in men. Education must look beyond boyhood and ask itself for what type of manhood it is planning. What sort of boys will evolve into this type of glorious, radiant manhood? Prigs will not do. No winged creature ever hatched from such a chrysalis. Neither will dullards nor bullies. Nor can we hope for much from the most current type of all, the pale-faced, anæmic boys, with their dull ears, near sight, short wind, bad breath, and a
