THE PHILOSOPHY OF MANUAL TRAIN I XG. 649 



common. But genius is an overbalance between the special gift and 

 normal powers, while insanity is an overbalance between high organi- 

 zation on the one hand and deficiency on the other. The examina- 

 tion of brain power shows it to be dependent upon two factors, size 

 and quality. A large brain, full of gray and white matter of low 

 organization, may belong to an intellectual infant. A small brain, 

 composed of highly organized matter, may be the tool of an intel- 

 lectual giant. In a general way intellectual power seems to be physi- 

 ologically a function of brain surface. The heightening of organiza- 

 tion and increase of surface do not come about as the result of any 

 and every sort of activity. The repetition of an act creates a path 

 of least resistance, until at last seemingly difficult acts become far 

 easier than simple ones that are new and untried. If the repetition 

 proceed far enough, the mental reactions cease almost entirely, and 

 we have automatic action. It is this consideration that makes us 

 spend so much time upon the models used in sloyd and manual 

 training. It is very important to have them properly graded, so that 

 succeeding exercises shall present increasing difficulties. This con- 

 stitutes a vital difference between industrial and educational train- 

 ing. Industrial work is only practicable where skill is so far auto- 

 matic as to be utilized with economy of time. But when this takes 

 place, education ends. And this is one of the great reasons why I 

 so warmly disparage industrialism as an ideal of life. It produces, 

 and must produce, fragments of men and women, automatic ma- 

 chines, instead of complete men and women open and ever open to 

 new influences. I mean some time to develop this thought, and to 

 show that in our choice of vocations, even intellectual, and the 

 tenacity with which we stick to them, we practically put an end to 

 our own growth, and rob ourselves of the most complete manhood 

 and womanhood. And I mean to recommend that we make life itself 

 educational, and that we undertake a rotation of related vocations 

 just as our farmers do a rotation of crops. They could undoubtedly 

 hoe corn more economically if they did nothing else, but the thing is 

 that the ground would not stand it, and the crops would get smaller 

 and smaller while the hoeing was growing more and more efficient. 

 We can work more economically by sticking to our last, but the 

 thing is that the spirit will not stand it, and the good that flows out 

 of our shoemaking grows less and less, even though our rate in- 

 creases. 



There is a striking parallel between these reactions and the reac- 

 tions that follow upon pain and pleasure. Those of you who have 

 experienced grief and suffering know that the terrible thing about it 

 is its monotony, its dull monotony, a monotony so terrible that if it 

 continues too long it leads to despair and to the paralysis of feeling 



