revising our conception of learning itself, as well as taking note of the things which it alone cannot accomplish.

The wisdom of the world is by no means monopolized by those who write the books or deliver the lectures, and the masters of craftsmanship in any form, even that of speaking or writing, have, as often as not, been men who have owed least to scholastic influences. This is not intended as in any sense a disparagement of the schools, but only as a reminder of how much ground they have hitherto failed to cover, and to which it is the very first duty of the new movement to direct attention.

In a recent address President Eliot characterized architecture as perhaps the most learned of the professions. He was quite right, as he usually is. Probably no one else has to know so much about so many things as the architect; but let us not forget, on the one hand, how much of his knowledge has come thru channels other than those which are associated with the discipline of the schools, and, on the other, how conspicuous an example he is of the inadequacy of the scholastic method alone to develop the qualities which are most worth having in any profession which is first of all an art. In no profession is there greater danger that respect for precedent and authority will stifle inspiration, and that vivid and ingenious expression will be sacrificed to rule, than in architecture. The architecture whose charm outlasts the centuries and which we make voyages to see is not that which owes its character to respect for the traditions of the schools. Judged by the standards set by the academies, the façade of St. Marks is the play of riotous infancy, but yet it remains the most delightful structure in the world, outweighing instantly, with any mind that is sensitive to beauty, all the cold correctness that was attained by the Renaissance after its living current had begun to crystallize into schools. Of the vigor and splendor of the early Renaissance I have already spoken, but that is another story.

I have nothing to say against learning. It is, and must always remain, the greatest conservative influence in the world, and the principle means by which the mind is kept from wild and unprofitable undertakings; but art alone keeps the original sources of interest open and supplies at first hand the elements which constitute enduring charm. The foundations of taste are laid in respect for material and in appreciation of function; style is the dignity with which genuineness carries itself. It must be inherent in things as part of their very structure; it cannot be assumed like a mark, or stuck on like a veneer. Abiding interest in things, then, is not to any great extent a matter of superficial ornamentation; and one of the worst mistakes which we have made in our efforts to make art instruction universal has been the exaggerated importance which has sometimes been given to purely decorative design considered as surface ornament alone, and as something, therefore, which might be effectively studied

without reference either to the object to which it was to be applied, or to the methods or materials in which it was to be expressed.

It is putting the cart before the horse to make designs in that way. Nor is good ornament to any appreciable extent a matter of abstract principles, such as are embodied in the formulas about rhythm and symmetry and balance, in which the academic mind has so often claimed that it had been imprisoned. Ornament, like anything else, is good if it means something, if it expresses something that is worth expressing. Rhythm and balance are well enough, of course, and are very often present, altho in numberless cases they are not present at all; but if they are, they come of themselves for the most part thru the mere necessity of repetition which is the first condition of so large a part of manufacture. They are not by any means essential elements in the interest of the pattern. The real interest lies a good deal deeper than that, and is inseparable from the associations and meanings which all these rudimentary abstractions completely ignore. No, it is not the surface, it is the thing itself that we want to get at; and we want to make it ourselves; we want to learn to think in terms of material, of wood and leather and cloth and iron and clay. We want to know and appreciate and enjoy the qualities which are characteristic of each, and we want the things which we make out of them and the ornament which we apply to them to express this appreciation and to celebrate the interest we feel in them and the pleasure they give us.

There is no longer any serious question regarding the admission of the craftsmanship principle into the general educational scheme. What remains is to decide how far the idea is to be carried, and what methods are to be adopted to make it effective. For one thing, I feel pretty sure of this, that we have no right to expect results at all commensurate with the importance of the movement until we have at least a few central schools providing thoro professional instruction of the most advanced character in the more important forms of craftsmanship, especially those in which the artistic possibilities are most pronounced, whose influence and example shall react everywhere on the more elementary instruction, and set the standards by which the aims of the lower schools may be informed and directed.

I prefer the expression "professional schools" rather than "trade schools," because the term seems not only to be more comprehensive, but to leave open, in a sense that the other name does not, some rather important questions of immediate function and ultimate aim.

Take the case of textiles. When Colbert bought out the old Gobelin establishment in 1662 and set the best men to be found in France, or anywhere else, to making tapestries, upholstery, and all sorts of fabrics, not as cheap, but as beautiful, as it was possible to make them, he set the standard by which public promotion of industrial interests will be tried forevermore. The fabrics that have been produced there have shown the

world how perfect such things can be, and have given France a reputation which the rest of the world acknowledges as supreme; but far above and beyond that in importance is the fact that their production has meant the training of a set of men who have carried with them, when they left the establishment, a kind of attainment that has set high standards and made excellence possible wherever they went.

We are learning the lesson - may we learn it speedily! -that something besides cheapness is worth striving for when work is to be done and wants supplied; that the whole duty of statesmanship is not included in the discussion of protective tariffs; and that the teacher has not done his duty while industrial inefficiency remains the heritage, as it is today, of by far the larger part of the generation that is under his care.

DISCUSSION

LAURIN H. MARTIN, instructor of applied design, Massachusetts Normal Art School. - Principal Miller says in his address that "the foundations of taste are laid in respect for material," and also that "we want to learn and think in the terms of material."

All of those who have looked into the subject will fully appreciate how true this is; for the character of a design depends upon the material employed. Therefore it is of the greatest importance that a designer should think in the terms of material. It is my opinion that no designer can think with any great degree of intelligence, unless he has had actual work with different materials as a part of his training. If he has done work, it will enable him to take advantage of what different materials have to offer, and teach him to respect their limitation. It will also teach him construction, and his design will be planned with this in view, and will be a complete working drawing which can be easily carried out.

I quite agree with Mr. Miller in saying that "nothing could be more harmful in its influence than the distinction between the designer and the workman." This is where the whole trouble lies at the present time. If more designers would carry out their designs, the greatest improvement would be noticeable. A design on paper at the best is only a suggestion, and, if given to another to work out, many things would not be understood, and a deterioration would consequently follow. These points, I am sure, will be accepted by all.

I think that there is only one remedy for the present conditions. This remedy is to increase technical work in the schools. Let pupils have an opportunity to carry out their designs. We shall then have designers in the full sense of the word, and we shall see fewer designs which are studies without reference to the object to which they are to be applied or to the methods or materials in which they are to be expressed. Our designers would have a respect for materials, and would not make a design for cast iron to imitate wrought iron, which under the present conditions is apt to be the case.

Hand-work, of course, has much greater artistic qualities than machine-work; but at the same time the machine is indispensable, altho I do think that our machine-made objects might be made much more beautiful. I think that, if more hand-work were done in our art institutions, our industrial arts would soon be in a healthier condition.

WALTER S. GOODNOUGH, director of drawing and manual training in public schools, Borough of Brooklyn, City of New York.-The idea of craftsmanship in education, at least in public elementary education, is comparatively new. It can be justified, I believe, on educational, sociological, and, above all, industrial grounds.

The craftsman of old was one who not only thought out the whole thing, but carried his thought into execution. The impress of individual mind, of creative and loving effort, was everywhere apparent in his work. The craftsman was an artist; and the artist was most frequently a craftsman. The citizens of former times believed that certain benefits arose from the cultivation of beauty; that the pleasures of private life and the dignity of public life were increased materially by the aid of the arts. One cannot roam thru the medieval towns and the museums of industrial art of Europe without feeling strongly the art spirit which pervaded the old work, and which, thru modern machinism and commercialism, but more largely thru lack of trained public taste, is so frequently absent from modern work.

Art has been too often divorced from production and construction, and in the minds of people has come to be associated almost entirely with the product on canvas, in marble, or in bronze. Instead of the craftsman, we have had the mechanic or operative, working in his specialized, often limited, sphere. The condition has reacted upon the individual. He has not the right interest in his work; he has become more of a machine.

After four hundred years or more, the craftsman is again to take his place among artists; and art is to permeate industry and the daily life and surroundings of the people. To this all must agree who have watched the trend of events.

The need of the hour is for the art teacher and the teacher of manual training to get together.

Art teaching, particularly in the matter of design, should require more general application to definite purpose in material or construction.

Manual training should be characterized by less formalism in plan and method. There should be less of the directed or imitative, and more of creative effort, under wise guidance. As I have studied the subject of manual training in different sections of this country and in Europe, attention has been given largely, until quite recently, to the matter of exact reproduction, from direction or copy or drawing, of set exercises or models. The art element, so far as the pupils' initiative is concerned, has been absent or at a minimum, with a few notable exceptions. I refer more particularly to the manual training with tools in the upper grammar and high-school grades.

Let the art teacher, the shop-work teacher, and the sewing teacher work in harmony, making the work of each aid the others. This is the true craftsman spirit.

The particular work done in the elementary schools should be such as will appeal as largely as possible to the pupils' interests, and at the same time provide proper advancement in process and difficulty. Under certain general limitations that will not hamper, and with such guidance and suggestion as will insure proper ideals and standards, pupils should design the form and decoration, and, when sufficiently advanced, determine the mode of construction or kind of material best suited to the purpose. All instruction should lead to individual or creative endeavor, to proper regard for material and its right use, to proper construction, and to appreciation of beauty of line, proportion, relation, and color.

In the high-school grades handicrafts and machine-work should be introduced, as here both the art and the science elements should have place; and we must remember that the craftsman of today has both steam and electricity as his aids, and various fruits of science as well. Indeed, tho handicrafts and household arts may appear in our courses as giving more free, personal, and artistic results, the great problem for us today is so to train the individual as to make beautiful and perfect the product of the machine. The problem of what should be done in manual or industrial work is more readily solved in the case of the manual-training high school, then in the usual high school, with its classical, literary, and commercial courses. In the first-named case the course can well become more special and technical, and be adapted more particularly to industrial requirements. In the latter schools we have our drawing rooms, free hand and

mechanical, our laboratories for science, our gymnasiums. In the near future we shall require our crafts rooms; for in such schools, incidental to or as a part of the art instruction, I believe we can well introduce certain forms of handicraft that will give proper means of application of the art instruction in a material form, and at the same time supplement the teaching of the elementary schools, without being of quite the special or scientific nature of the course of manual-training high schools. Only in this way will the full fruit of the elementary course be gathered. The whole burden cannot be placed upon the normal and training schools, as would happen if there were a gap of four years during the course of the regular high school in which there was no adequate form of applied or industrial art or handicraft.

In closing I will quote Bishop Ireland:

He who fails to appreciate the beautiful remains a mere piece of matter; he has never put on the wings of the soul and soared upward. Religion, I think, can do nothing for him who lives on such a sordid plane; religion requires a fertile, prepared soil. Without the sense of the beautiful the soul is lost to the region of the purest ethics. Beauty is needed everywhere-in the homes of the poor as well as of the rich. As the beautiful in great works of painting and the masterpieces of sculpture cannot be in the homes of the poor, let it be there in the humble furniture, in the utensils, in the textiles, in the dress. See that the sunshine of beauty comes into the home of the poor. We are doing religious work if through art we lift men up and make the world happier. The beauty of this world is linked with the beauty of the next.

ART INSTRUCTION AS RELATED TO MANUAL WORK ALFRED VANCE CHURCHILL, DIRECTOR OF THE DEPARTMENT OF FINE ARTS FOR NORMAL TRAINING, TEACHERS COLLEGE, COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY, NEW YORK, N. Y.

The time has come when art and manual training must join their forces. You have heard it said that these two are one and the same thing, and there are several senses in which the saying is true. Both are concerned with the expression of thought thru form and color; both rest on practically the same basis, as educative subjects; while in their technical processes the line of demarkation is in some cases hardly recognizable. Clay-modeling is manual training and original construction is design. The two subjects may be said to occupy adjacent territories whose boundaries are not clearly marked and tend to overlap. Some of you have been eyewitnesses of battles waged over rights of discovery and possession of disputed frontiers.

It is worth while to spend a few minutes in examining three of the bonds which bind the two subjects together, for art and hand-work were brothers long before they began to go to school, knit by ties more close and vital than the twins of Siam.

The art of man, in the broad sense, embraces all his expression — the expression of his bodily needs and the needs of his spirit, his emotions, his thoughts, his aspirations. It therefore includes spoken languagethe language of his tongue-and painting, music, and architecture, which are the languages of his hands. Art would seem to include, potentially at least, every expression of man's mind, from the least to the greatest. It is superfluous to try to decide which form of expression is the more