I fancy I could easily answer that objection, but why should I answer every objection?  If my method itself answers your objections, it is good; if not, it is good for nothing.  I continue my explanation.

If, in accordance with the plan I have sketched, you follow rules which are just the opposite of the established practice, if instead of taking your scholar far afield, instead of wandering with him in distant places, in far-off lands, in remote centuries, in the ends of the earth, and in the very heavens themselves, you try to keep him to himself, to his own concerns, you will then find him able to perceive, to remember, and even to reason; this is nature’s order.  As the sentient being becomes active his discernment develops along with his strength.  Not till his strength is in excess of what is needed for self-preservation, is the speculative faculty developed, the faculty adapted for using this superfluous strength for other purposes.  Would you cultivate your pupil’s intelligence, cultivate the strength it is meant to control.  Give his body constant exercise, make it strong and healthy, in order to make him good and wise; let him work, let him do things, let him run and shout, let him be always on the go; make a man of him in strength, and he will soon be a man in reason.

Of course by this method you will make him stupid if you are always giving him directions, always saying come here, go there, stop, do this, don’t do that.  If your head always guides his hands, his own mind will become useless.  But remember the conditions we laid down; if you are a mere pedant it is not worth your while to read my book.

It is a lamentable mistake to imagine that bodily activity hinders the working of the mind, as if these two kinds of activity ought not to advance hand in hand, and as if the one were not intended to act as guide to the other.

There are two classes of men who are constantly engaged in bodily activity, peasants and savages, and certainly neither of these pays the least attention to the cultivation of the mind.  Peasants are rough, coarse, and clumsy; savages are noted, not only for their keen senses, but for great subtility of mind.  Speaking generally, there is nothing duller than a peasant or sharper than a savage.  What is the cause of this difference?  The peasant has always done as he was told, what his father did before him, what he himself has always done; he is the creature of habit, he spends his life almost like an automaton on the same tasks; habit and obedience have taken the place of reason.

The case of the savage is very different; he is tied to no one place, he has no prescribed task, no superior to obey, he knows no law but his own will; he is therefore forced to reason at every step he takes.  He can neither move nor walk without considering the consequences.  Thus the more his body is exercised, the more alert is his mind; his strength and his reason increase together, and each helps to develop the other.