transformed the steam-engine, was a mender of philosophical instruments, and first thought of the engine when called on to repair a model for the Andersonian Institution in Glasgow. There he got lectures in science, and the cross fertilisation of this with his practical aptitude bore its glorious fruits. George Stephenson, the founder of the railway system, was a collier, having had no facilities for early education-a subject of much regret to him in after-life: he took care that his son Robert, the eminent engineer, should have the fullest scientific education within his reach. Arkwright, who revolutionised cotton-spinning, was a barber, and from want of education lost much time in trying to discover perpetual motion, but at last triumphed in industrial invention by his mechanical genius. Cartwright, the inventor of the power loom, was a clergyman, and certainly was not educated in technics. Hargreaves, the inventor of the carding machine and spinning-jenny, was a handloom weaver, and may be said to be an inventor from the inside of the industry: he was unquestionably illiterate. Many other names in science and industry, as Davy and Dalton the druggists, Faraday the bookbinder, Wheatstone the maker of musical instruments, Bell of the telephone, who was a teacher of deaf mutes, are instances of genius from the outside, illumining the science or industry which they advanced by such gigantic strides. I do not at all dispute the fact that men of genius can overcome the defects of their education, and can surmount difficulties which would prove fatal to men who had not the gift of genius. The latter are rare in the history of the world, and education is not modelled to suit their needs. The men who carry on the great industries of nations are rarely in this category, and do benefit by a training of their intelligence in direct relation to their respective occupations.

The object of technical education is to give an intelligent knowledge of the sciences and arts which lie at the basis of all industries. It is best given early in life before the youth goes into the workshop for his practical training. This is the character of the course given at the Finsbury School. Instruction of this kind is founded on the principle that the chief object of technical education is to teach the student to understand what he sees, and not to teach him to produce what he has not seen. Advantageous as this method is, it is difficult to get hold of boys at this early stage. It is therefore necessary to give instruction, in evening classes, to young men actually engaged during the day in trades or manufactures; and then it is found advantageous to apply science and art to the explanation of their own special industries. In this way technical education becomes the rationale of empiricism, while the knowledge imparted dignifies and fructifies labour. This is the form of instruction which most commends itself to working men, as is seen exemplified in the large polytechnics which are rising with such astonishing rapidity all over

the metropolis, and to a less degree in provincial towns. When tens of thousands of young working men in London are found to give up their whole evenings to acquire such knowledge in relation to their industries, it is impossible to deny that the system must suit their requirements. These evening classes have actual workshops in the several trades, and the scientific teaching is employed in direct illustration of the industry. The same disposition to combine scientific and art teaching with practical illustrations of the actual industry is extending into the higher technical schools, both at home and abroad, in spite of Lord Armstrong's present and my past disapproval of the system. Even in the most thoroughly organised technical schools, such as that in Boston (New England), actual industrial work has become part of the training. I select a single instance for illustration. A student is being trained as a designer, but his instruction is not limited to art. He is taught the principles of science involved in calico printing; he then makes designs; has to cut them in wood; has to block them out in mordants, and has to follow them through the actual processes of dyeing or steaming, so as to see the adaptabilities of materials to the effectiveness of his design. This mode of practical teaching obviously suits the industries of America, for a successful student can immediately obtain employment. In all cases the industrial illustration is only a supplement to the scientific and artistic instruction. In England a similar practice is arising in the higher colleges. Thus the Yorkshire College has a department for weaving and dyeing. I have before me, as I write, twenty-four letters from past students of this course. Some of them are the sons of manufacturers, others are men who have gone into employment. They all write in the warmest terms of the practical advantages which they have experienced by the weaving and dyeing classes, combined with the scientific teaching of the college. The first letter that I take up by chance is from a Canadian who had returned to his father's business, and he says that his technical education has enabled him to double the output, and greatly to improve the character of the goods.

Let me return to the popular polytechnics, such as Mr. Quentin Hogg's institution in Regent Street, in which some thousands of actual working men go through workshops of their own trades in evening classes. What should induce bricklayers to attend a class of bricklaying? why should tailors pass through a course of cutting and fitting, or watchmakers go through a class of watchmaking? All this clashed with my old ideas and gave them a rude shake. By talking to the men I gradually came to an understanding of their wants, and I sum up their explanations as shortly as possible.

In all industries there is much division of labour, so that a workman may be put on one small part of a trade and understand

nothing of it as a whole. In making watches by machinery, girls are employed to put the wheels into the case, and experts may make nearly 21. weekly in this occupation. Skilled as they are, they may know nothing of the nature of a watch or the conditions of its movements and regulation. To the manufacturer the scientific ignorance of his skilled operative matters little; but the workman, knowing that he is put into the world as an intelligent being, is not content to remain in ignorance, because he desires to dignify and fructify his labour by understanding it. It is surely creditable to working men that they should wish to have an intelligent acquaintance with the whole industry in which they are engaged, and not to remain satisfied with the mere empirical skill spent upon the small corner of work allotted to them in the division of labour. In addition to this desire there is also a practical necessity for a more extended knowledge of their industry than is attainable in the workshop. The rapid improvements in machinery are producing constant dislocations in labour. In the case of the manufacture of boots and shoes by machinery I notice that in America almost every strike is followed by the invention of a new appliance, which lessens the demand for human labour, and dislocates old forms of it. The two last machines of this kind, for welting and for lasting shoes, have been substituted for manual labour in a marked way. The same result occurs in all industries as new inventions are applied to them. The machine takes the place of brute animal force. This is ultimately beneficial to humanity, because the sweat of the brow and the mere labour of the body are relieved by the intelligence of the brain. Labourers, however, suffer during the process of change. In fact, the too rapid dislocation of labour, caused by recent developments of applied science, has been the chief cause of trade depressions. This has divided labour into two categories-labour of quantity and labour of quality. The labour of quantity represents Lord Armstrong's hewers of wood and drawers of water, for whom he thinks technical education is wholly useless. It is true that their labour is little more than brute animal force, which is being steadily pushed into the background by invention. Such brute labour is continually decreasing in value as a factor in production. Labourers of this kind, pushed aside by machinery, are too familiar to us under the name of the unemployed'—a class that is likely to increase in a dangerous way unless we cultivate their intelligence by a better education, so as to enable them to pass from the ranks of labourers of quantity into those of labourers of quality. Let me illustrate my meaning by an anecdote. An Irish hodman wrote to his friend in Ireland the following letter: Dear Pat,-Come over here and earn your money. All that you have to do is to carry bricks up a ladder, for there is a fool at the top who takes them from you and does all the work.' The labour of the poor Irish hodman has been destroyed by the

steam-engine, which now hauls up the bricks, though the labourer of quality still holds his own in building the house.

Even though the labour of quality, guided by trained and skilled intelligence, contrives to have ample employment in production, it also is subject to dislocations, sometimes of a violent character. When Bessemer invented his new method of making steel, 39,000 workmen, formerly engaged in making bar iron in puddling furnaces, lost their means of making a living, because the industry took a new direction. Some of these displaced labourers were employed in the new manufacture, for they were sufficiently intelligent to adapt themselves to the new conditions. But a great many of them knew nothing except puddling, and had never been taught the difference between bar iron and steel. They had been occupied all their lives in skilfully stirring up the molten iron with their brawny arms, and never dreamt that their furnaces would go out.

.. They sat like spent and patient fools, Still puffing in the dark at one poor coal, Held on by hope till the last spark was out.

Had they understood the transition which was passing over their industry, much suffering would have been averted.

While Lord Armstrong sees no use in attempting to educate what I have called labourers of quantity, he does admit that all above them would be benefited by acquiring some degree of intelligence,' because he knows that manual skill intelligently used is the chief criterion of their effective labour. I think he would go further with me and would allow that artificers ought to occupy their position as intellectual beings by understanding the nature and the principles of their occupation so as to adapt themselves more readily to the constant changes which are taking place in manufacturing industries. I do not care to quarrel with a name. If he dislike to call this acquisition of the principles of an industry by the name of technical education, I am content to call it 'trained intelligence,' or any other name which he desires, provided we can secure his valuable co-operation in promoting our object. If I put the proposition thus, I think Lord Armstrong and the promoters of technical education would agree, that we should give a higher trained intelligence all round to our producers-intelligence to our rank and file, and a high technical education to the officers of our industrial armies. We would welcome him as an ally, cool of judgment, unaffected by enthusiasm or by emotion. Science is essentially colourless and impersonal, and some of us may be the better of his cold-water applications, though mountains are not levelled by trickling rills. An immense mass of ignorance has to be removed among the working men of this country. They are sensible of this, and show a keen desire to have their children brought up in a trained knowledge of their industries. The Association for Technical Education has been formed to promote this

object. It contains young and enthusiastic workers, who will continue this work when advanced veterans, like Lord Armstrong and myself, are numbered among the great majority.

Lord Armstrong belongs to that distinguished body of engineers who have advanced so much the industries of this country. They are generally indifferent to technical education, because they feel with just pride that their offices and workshops have been schools for engineers and have produced admirable men. It is true that the office of the engineer aims only to teach the apprentice manipulative skill and constructive work, leaving him to pick up scientific knowledge where and how he can. When engineers see that schools and colleges are actually furnished with workshops in which mechanical drawing is thoroughly taught, and where pattern-making, moulding and founding, form part of the curriculum, and an intimate acquaintance with the use of ordinary machine tools is given simultaneously with scientific education, the old engineers shrug their shoulders, and approve of Lord Armstrong's attack on the new modes of technical education. Every one admits that English engineers in the past have efficiently trained young men by their system of apprenticeship. There are many other industries, like those of metallurgy, chemical manufactures, and textile fabrics, which have never given methodical training within their factories. For those who have to follow their pursuits, outside technical education is necessary. Even in regard to engineers a growing demand for more methodical instruction than that given in the workshop has arisen. It is stated by those who have especially attended to preliminary instruction in engineering that three years at colleges of this kind, combined with two years in the workshops, turn out better men than five years' apprenticeship in the latter. The proof of this is that there is an active demand for men trained in this way. On my last visit to the great technological school of Boston, I found a display of competitive designs for a particular kind of bridge. While I was looking at the drawings, the largest builder of bridges in America came in, and being much struck with the excellence of one of the designs, he sent for the student and engaged him at a good salary. The hundreds of students who pass through that school find no difficulty in obtaining employment, though at first their salaries are moderate, for they have much useful experience to learn in the actual workshops of industry. The reason for this is obvious: the object of a school is to teach, while that of the workshop is to pay, so the purposes of both must be brought into combination.

In former times all industries were taught by apprenticeship, which really afforded a good technical education suited to past periods, when industries were carried on by rule of thumb, and not on scientific principles. In past periods medical men were trained in the same way, until science illumined their profession, and then special