tendency and result. On the other hand, so far as schools of this type
have been captured by commercialism, they turn out trained engineers,
professional chemists, and electricians. They are polytechnics of a high
order, but do not even pretend to admit the workingman with his meagre
intellectual equipment. They graduate machine builders, but not educated
machine tenders. Even the textile schools are largely seized by young
men who expect to be superintendents of factories, designers, or
manufacturers themselves, and the textile worker who actually "holds the
thread" is seldom seen in them; indeed, in one of the largest schools
women are not allowed, in spite of the fact that spinning and weaving
have traditionally been woman's work, and that thousands of women are
at present employed in the textile mills.

It is much easier to go over the old paths of education with "manual
training" thrown in, as it were; it is much simpler to appeal to the old
ambitions of "getting on in life," or of "preparing for a profession,"
or "for a commercial career," than to work out new methods on democratic
lines. These schools gradually drop back into the conventional courses,
modified in some slight degree, while the adaptation to workingmen's
needs is never made, nor, indeed, vigorously attempted. In the meantime,
the manufacturers continually protest that engineers, especially trained
for devising machines, are not satisfactory. Three generations of
workers have invented, but we are told that invention no longer goes on
in the workshop, even when it is artificially stimulated by the offer of
prizes, and that the inventions of the last quarter of the nineteenth
century have by no means fulfilled the promise of the earlier
three-quarters.

Every foreman in a large factory has had experience with two classes of
men: first with those who become rigid and tolerate no change in their