work, partly because they make more money "working by the piece," when
they stick to that work which they have learned to do rapidly, and
partly because the entire muscular and nervous system has become by
daily use adapted to particular motions and resents change. Secondly,
there are the men who float in and out of the factory, in a constantly
changing stream. They "quit work" for the slightest reason or none at
all, and never become skilled at anything. Some of them are men of low
intelligence, but many of them are merely too nervous and restless, too
impatient, too easily "driven to drink," to be of any use in a modern
factory. They are the men for whom the demanded adaptation is
impossible.

The individual from whom the industrial order demands ever larger
drafts of time and energy, should be nourished and enriched from social
sources, in proportion as he is drained. He, more than other men, needs
the conception of historic continuity in order to reveal to him the
purpose and utility of his work, and he can only be stimulated and
dignified as he obtains a conception of his proper relation to society.
Scholarship is evidently unable to do this for him; for, unfortunately,
the same tendency to division of labor has also produced
over-specialization in scholarship, with the sad result that when the
scholar attempts to minister to a worker, he gives him the result of
more specialization rather than an offset from it. He cannot bring
healing and solace because he himself is suffering from the same
disease. There is indeed a deplorable lack of perception and adaptation
on the part of educators all along the line.

It will certainly be embarrassing to have our age written down
triumphant in the matter of inventions, in that our factories were
filled with intricate machines, the result of advancing mathematical and