CHAPTER IX

INVENTIONS IN STEAM, ELECTRICITY AND CHEMISTRY CREATE A NEW ERA

When the nineteenth century opened, George III was King of England,

Napoleon was First Consul of France, Francis II was Emperor of Germany,

Frederick William III was King of Prussia, Alexander was Czar of Russia

(beginning 1801), and John Adams was President of the United States.

By this time the influence of the inventions of the few centuries

immediately preceding, especially the invention of the gun and that

of printing, was clearly in evidence. The Feudal System had entirely

vanished, the sway of great and powerful sovereigns had taken the place

in Europe of the arbitrary rule of petty dukes and barons, the value

of the natural sciences was appreciated, and a fine literature had

developed in all the countries.

A terrible war was raging, however, that was not to end for fifteen

years and that involved, directly or indirectly, nearly every

European nation. The war had started in France, where the tremendous

intellectual movement had aroused the excitable people of that land to

a realization of the oppression of the nobility and a determination to

make it cease.

The wars that ensued were not so different from the wars of the

Egyptians and other ancient nations as one might carelessly suppose,

because the weapons were not very different. The only weapon that

was very novel was the gun; and the gun of the year 1800 was a

contrivance so vastly inferior to the gun that exists today as not

to be immeasurably superior to the bow and arrow. It had to be loaded

slowly at the muzzle; and the powder was so non-uniform and in other

ways inferior, that the gun's range was short and its accuracy slight.

Even the artillery that Bonaparte used so skillfully was crude and

ineffective, according to the standards of today. The cavalry was not

very different from the cavalry of the Assyrians, and the military

engineers performed few feats greater than that of Cæsar's, in building

the bridge across the Rhine. There were no railroads, no steamships, no

telegraphs, no telephones. There was less difference between the armies

of 1800 A. D. and those of 1800 B. C., than between the armies of 1800

A. D. and those of 1900 A. D.

The same remark applies to virtually all the material conditions of

living. There was less difference, for instance, between the fine

buildings of 1800 B. C. and 1800 A. D. than between the fine buildings

of 1800 and 1900 A. D. The influence of the new inventions on the

material conditions of living was only beginning to be felt; for the

twin agencies of steam and electricity, that were later to make the

difference, had not yet got to work. It was the power of steam that

was to transport men and materials across vast oceans and across great

continents at high speed, and place in the hands of every people the

natural fruits and the foods and the raw materials and the manufactured

appliances of other lands; it was the subtle influence of electricity

that was to give every people instant communication with every other.

It was the co-working of steam and electricity that was to make

possible the British navy and the British merchant marine, and the

relatively smaller merchant marines and navies of other countries, and

to bring all the world under the dominance of Great Britain and of the

other countries that were civilized.

The opening of the nineteenth century, therefore, marks the opening of

a new era. In 1800 the steam engine was already an effective appliance,

but it was not yet in general use. Electricity was a little behind

steam; and though Franklin and the others had proved that it possessed

vast possibilities of many kinds, and also that it could be harnessed

and put to work by man for the benefit of man, electricity had as yet

accomplished little of real value.

Under the stimulating influence of the quick communication given by the

art of printing, literature had blossomed especially in Great Britain,

France, Germany and Italy; but in 1800 one has to notice the same fact

as in previous years--literature had not improved. The literature of

1800 A. D. was no better than the literature of Greece or Elizabethan

England--to state the truth politely; and no such poet lived as

Homer, Shakespeare or John Milton. It seems to be a characteristic of

literature, and of all the fine arts as well, that each great product

is solely a product of one human mind, and not the product of the

combined work of many minds. To the invention of Watt's steam engine,

numberless obscure investigators and inventors had contributed, besides

those whose great names everybody knows: but how can two men write a

poem or any work of fiction, or paint a picture or carve a statue? It

is true that each of these feats has been performed; but rarely and not

with great success.

For this reason, it is not clear that mere literature as literature, or

that any of the fine arts as such can exert much influence on history,

and it is not clear that any of them have done so. That they have had

great influence in conducing to the pleasure of individuals there can

be no question; but the influence seems to have been transient. History

is a record of such of the doings of men as have had influence at

the time, or in the future. Of these doings, the agency that has had

the most obvious influence is war, and next to war is invention. War,

next after disease, has caused the most suffering the world knows of;

but out of the suffering have emerged the great nations without which

modern civilization could not exist. The influence of invention is

not so obvious, but it is perhaps as great, or nearly so; the main

reason being that invention has been the agency which has enabled

those nations to emerge that have emerged. Without the appliances that

invention has supplied, the civilized man could not have triumphed over

the savage.

Now literature and painting and sculpture and music, while they have

made life easier and pleasanter, have contributed little to this

work, and in many ways have rather prevented it from going further by

softening people, physically and mentally. This statement must not

be accepted without reservations of course; for the reason that some

poems, some works of fiction, and some paintings and (especially) some

musical compositions have tended to strengthen character, and even to

stimulate the martial spirit. But a careful inspection of most works of

pure literature and fine art must lead a candid person to admit that

the major part of their effect has been to please,--to gratify the

appetite of the mind rather than to inspire it to action.

The author here requests any possible reader of these pages, not to

infer that he has any objection to being pleased himself, or to having

others pleased; or that he regards the influence of literature and the

fine arts as being detrimental to the race. On the contrary, he regards

them as being valuable in the highest degree. He is merely trying to

point out the difference between the influence of inventions in the

useful arts and those in the fine arts.

A like remark may be made concerning inventors and other men; the word

inventors being here supposed to mean the men who make inventions of

all kinds. These men seem to have been those who have brought into

existence those machines and books and projects of all kinds that

have determined the kind of machine of civilization that has now been

produced. These men are very few, compared with the great bulk of

humanity; but it seems to be they who have given direction to the line

along which the machine has been developed.

This does not mean, of course, that these men have been more estimable

themselves than the men who kept the machine in smooth and regular

motion, and made the repairs, and supplied the oil and fuel; but it

does mean that they had more influence in making its improvements.

Naturally, their work in making improvements would have been of

no avail, if other men had not exerted industry and carefulness

and intelligence and courage, in the countless tasks entailed in

maintaining the machine in good repair, in keeping it running smoothly,

and in receiving with open minds and helping hands each new improvement

as it came along. And it was not only in welcoming real improvements,

but in keeping out novelties which seemed to be improvements but were

not improvements that the work of what may be called the operators,

as distinguished from the inventors, was beneficent. Nothing could be

more injurious to the machine than to permit the incorporation in it of

parts that would not improve it. There has been little danger to fear

from this source, however; for the inertia of men is such that it is

only rarely that one sees any new device accepted, until it has proved

its value definitely and unmistakably in practical work.

Possibly the greatest single impetus given to progress about the year

1800 was that given by Lavoisier shortly before, which started the

science of chemistry on the glorious career it has since pursued. As a

separate branch of science, chemistry then began, though it had been

the subject of investigation for many centuries, beginning in Egypt

and the other ancient countries of the East. In the Middle Ages, it

was known in Europe by the name Alchemy. Originally, and in all the

long ages of its infancy, the investigations of the experimenters were

carried on mainly to discover new remedies in medicine, or to learn

methods to transmute base metals into precious metals; though there

was a considerable degree also of pursuit of knowledge for its own

sake. As a result of the investigations, many startling facts were

developed, and many discoveries were made; but, for the reason that the

investigations were not conducted on the mathematical or quantitative

lines that had led to so much success in developing physics, alchemy or

chemistry did not rest on any sure basis, and therefore had no fixed

place to start from. It was in the same vague status that some subjects

of thoughtful speculation are in today, such as telepathy, which may

(or may not) be put on a basis of fact some day, and started forward

thence, as chemistry was started.

What gave chemistry its basis was the methods introduced by Lavoisier

who was a practiced physicist. He introduced the balance into the study

of chemistry, and raised it instantly from a collection of speculations

to an exact science, capable of progressing confidently and assuredly

thereafter, instead of wandering in a maze. Lavoisier gave chemistry a

mathematical basis to start from, and sure beacon lights to guide it;

and though many changes in its theory have been made from time to time,

they have been due only to increase of knowledge and not to departure

from fundamental principles. Finding that a substance was not an

element, but was a compound of two elements, or more than two, did not

require any rejection of accepted principles, but merely a readjustment.

We now see that it was impossible because of the exact nature of

the way in which the various elements combine, that chemistry could

have become a science until the balance had been used to weigh the

substances investigated; and we also see that it was impossible that

the balance could have been so used until physics had been developed

to the point permitting it, and men skilled in exact measurements had

been brought up by practice in physical researches. Lavoisier himself

had served a long apprenticeship, and his earliest claim to fame was

his mathematical researches on heat, embodied in an essay, written in

connection with Laplace, and published in 1784. Even after an enormous

mass of facts had been collected and announced, chemistry could not

take her place by the side of physics, and Bacon's teachings could not

be followed, until those facts had been mathematically investigated,

and their mathematical relations to each other had been established.

This Lavoisier and his followers did.

No better illustration of the influence of invention on history can

be found than the fact that chemistry hovered in the dim twilight of

speculation, guess-work and even superstition, until Lavoisier brought

to bear the various inventions made in physics. Then, presto, the

science of chemistry was born.

We must not let the fact escape us, however, that Lavoisier would have

left mankind none the wiser, if he had merely brought mathematical

research to bear and discovered what he did, and then stopped. If he

had stopped then, his knowledge would have remained locked inside of

his own mind, useless. The good work that Lavoisier actually did was

in actually producing an invention; in conceiving a certain definite

method of chemical research, then embodying it in such a concrete form

that "persons skilled in the art could make and use it," and then

giving it to the world.

The first important effect of Lavoisier's work was the announcement by

Dalton about 1808 of his Atomic Theory, which has been the basis of

most of the work of chemistry ever since. Dalton's earlier work had

been in physics, and its principal result had been "Dalton's Laws" in

regard to the evaporation and expansion of gases, announced by him

about 1801. These investigations led his mind to the consideration

of the various speculations that had been entertained concerning

the nature of matter itself, as distinguished from the actions and

reactions between material objects that physics studies; and they

brought him to the conclusion that there are certain substances or

elements which combine together to form compounds that are wholly

different from each of the elements (oxygen and hydrogen, for instance,

combining to form water); and that those elements are made up of units

absolutely indivisible, which combine with each other in absolutely

exact proportions. The units he called atoms. He built up a theory

wonderfully convincing and coherent, that explained virtually all the

chemical phenomena then known, and supplied a stepping-stone following

Lavoisier's, from which chemists could advance still further. Dalton

classified certain substances as elements which we now know are not

elements, because they have been found since to be compounds of two or

more elements; but this in itself does not disprove his theory, because

he himself pointed out that means might be found later to decompose

certain materials that seemed then to be elements, because no means had

then been found to decompose them.

It may be instructive to note here that Dalton was not the first to

imagine that certain forms of matter were elemental, or that matter was

indivisible beyond a certain point, or that substances entered into

combination with each other in definite proportions. Speculation on all

these points had been rife for many years, but it had not produced the

invention of any workable law or even theory. Similarly, many men later

speculated on the possibility of devising an electrical instrument that

would transform the mechanical energy of sound waves into electrical

energy, transfer the electrical energy over a wire, and re-convert it

into sound; but no one succeeded in producing such an instrument, until

Bell invented the telephone in 1876.

History is a record of acts, and not of dreams. And yet the greatest

acts were dreamed of before they were performed. Every process,

no matter how small or how great, seems to proceed by three

stages--conception, development and production. Most of our acts are

almost automatic, and the three stages succeed each other so quickly

that only the final stage itself is noted. But the greatest acts, from

which great results have followed, have begun with the conception of

a picture not of an ordinary kind, such as a great campaign, a new

machine, a novel theory, a book, painting, statue or edifice:--then a

long process of development, during which the conception is gradually

embodied in some concrete form, as, for instance, a statue, a painting

or an instrument;--and then production. _Finis opus coronat, the end

crowns the work_; but the work is not crowned until it is finished, and

a concrete entity has been brought forth.

Lavoisier finished his work. Not only did he dream a dream, but he

embodied his dream in a definite form, and gave it to mankind to use.

Dalton did similarly. This does not mean that their work was not

improved upon thereafter, or that they invented the chemistry of

today. They merely laid the foundation of chemistry, and placed the

first two stones.

A remarkable exemplar of the meaning of this declaration was Benjamin

Thomson, who was an American by birth, but who entered the Austrian

Army after the War of the Revolution, and made an unprecedented record

in the application of physical and chemical science to the relief

of the distressed and ignorant and poor, especially the mendicant

classes. For his services he was made Count Rumford. His researches

were mostly in the line of saving heat and light, and therefore saving

food and fuel. He ascertained by experiments of the utmost ingenuity

and thoroughness that the warmth of clothing was because of the air

entangled in its fibers; he investigated the radiation, conduction

and convection of heat, analyzed the ways in which heat could be

economized, and invented a calorimeter for testing the heat-giving

value of different fuels. In 1798 he had noted the fact that heat was

developed when cannon were being bored. He immediately conceived the

idea that the heat developed was related to the amount of work expended

driving the boring tool, and invented a means of measuring it. This

consisted simply of a blunt boring tool that pressed into a socket in

a metal block that was immersed in water, of which the temperature

could be taken. To get a basis for his investigations into the problem

of lighting economically the dwellings of the poor, Rumford invented

a photometer for measuring illumination. No man in history shows more

clearly the co-working of a high order of imagination, and a careful

and accurate constructiveness; and no man ever secured more intensely

practical and beneficent results. In the hospital at Verona he reduced

the consumption of fuel to one-eighth.

In 1827 a valuable improvement was made to the machine of civilization

by Ohm, who announced the now famous Ohm's Law, that the strength of an

electric current in any circuit is equal to the difference in potential

of the ends of the circuit, divided by its resistance. This is usually

expressed by writing C = E/R.

Can anything be less inspiring than C = E/R? Yes:--few things have

been more inspiring. Few things have inspired more zeal for work than

that simple formula. That simple formula evolved order out of chaos in

the little but super-important world, in which physicists and chemists

were trying to solve the riddles that the utilization of electric

currents presented. It gave them a basis from which to start, and a

definite rule to work by. No oration of Demosthenes, Cicero or Webster

has imparted more inspiration, or supplied a greater stimulus to high

effort, or done more for human kind than C = E/R.

In 1827 Walker in the United States invented friction matches. It

seems strange that someone had not invented matches before. The usual

way of getting light was with the flint and steel and tinder-box,--a

most inconvenient contrivance. It was quite well known that certain

substances would ignite when rubbed, and yet men waited until 1827 to

utilize the fact in matches!

In the following year Wöhler succeeded in reducing aluminum, thus

contributing a valuable new factor to human knowledge and a valuable

new metal to human needs. In the same year Neilson took out a patent in

England for "an improved application of air to produce heat in fires,

forges and furnaces," in which he proposed to pass a current of heated

air through the burning fuel. His invention met with opposition of all

kinds, but eventually proved its usefulness. Another invention produced

in the same year was Woodworth's machine for planing wood. Still

another, was the tubular boiler for locomotives.

In 1829 the first steam locomotive was put into use in the United

States. No especial invention seems to have been expended on this

device; but there was considerable invention of the kind that I have

ventured to call "opportunistic" involved in conceiving the idea of

getting the locomotive, and then in actually getting it, and then

putting it to work. In the following year Braithwaite and Ericsson

in London brought out the first portable fire-engine. There was a

great deal of invention of the practical kind involved in the design,

construction, production and successful employment of this novel

device; and an important step was taken in the means of protecting life

and the material products of civilization from destruction by fire.

In 1831 Faraday in London made one of the most important discoveries

in physical science ever made, the discovery that if a current of

electricity is changed in strength, or if a conductor carrying a

current be moved, an instantaneous magnetic effect is felt in the

vicinity; and that this magnetic effect will cause an instantaneous

current in any closed conducting circuit that may be near. Faraday also

discovered that a similar instantaneous current will be set up in a

closed circuit if a magnet be moved in its vicinity. This discovery is

usually spoken of as the discovery of electro-magnetic induction; and

the instantaneous currents are said to be "induced."

About the same time Professor Henry in Princeton discovered that an

electric circuit will act not only on other circuits in its vicinity,

but on itself; that the fact of being increased or decreased will

set up instantaneous currents that tend to oppose the increase or

decrease. Thus, while Faraday is credited with the discovery of

electro-magnetic induction, Henry is credited with the discovery of

self-induction. It has been claimed by some that Henry discovered

electro-magnetic induction before Faraday did. This question is of

great interest but it is outside the scope of this modest volume.

While both discoveries were of prime importance, and were also

analogous, that of electro-magnetic induction has played the more

conspicuous part. With it began the endeavor to develop electric

currents by the relative motion of coils of wire and magnets, that

resulted in the invention of the dynamo, and the later invention of

electric lights and motors.

In the same year the discovery (or was it the invention?) of chloroform

was made by Guthrie in America, Soubeiran in France and Liebig in

Germany. A curious fact connected with the early history of chloroform

is that, although its anæsthetic properties were known in general, and

although the idea of using gases and vapors and medicines to deaden

pain was many centuries old yet nevertheless, chloroform was not put to

practical use until about 1846 when Dr. Morton, a dentist, of Boston,

adopted it as an anæsthetic. Of all the single inventions ever made,

chloroform has unquestionably done more than any other, invented till

that time, to give relief from agony.

In 1832 the electric telegraph was invented by Morse, though he did

not patent it until 1837. The influence of the electric telegraph

on subsequent history has been so great that the influence of no

contemporary invention can reasonably be declared to be greater. As

with many other inventions, one is tempted to wonder why it had not

been invented before; for the fact that electricity could be sent along

a conductor and made to cause motion at the other end had been known

since Guericke had demonstrated the fact in the closing years of the

seventeenth century. The original invention of the electric telegraph

is claimed by some for Henry, who had a wire run between his house and

his laboratory at Princeton, over which he sent messages, by opening

and closing the circuit and thereby actuating an electro-magnet at the

receiving end.

The first machine to put Faraday's discovery of magneto-electric

induction to practical use was invented by Pixii in France in 1832,

and exhibited before the Academy of Sciences. It consisted of a

powerful magnet that was made to revolve with great rapidity before

a bar of soft iron that had wrapped around it a coil of insulated

wire about 3,000 feet long. The north and south poles taking position

in succession in front of the coil, currents were induced that

alternated in direction, twice in each revolution. If a man grasped

two wires in the circuit he received a series of sharp electric

shocks; but such effects as decomposing water that were produced by

the continuous currents of Voltaic batteries could not be produced by

these alternating currents. To secure such effects, Siemens and others

made machines in which the magnet in the form of a U was stationary,

two coils of wire revolved in front of the poles, and a two-part

"commutator" was used. When this was placed on the axle, and the axle

was revolved, the change in direction of the current was obviated,

though a smooth and uniform current was not produced. The reason was

that the current fell to zero twice in each revolution.

The magneto-electric machine, as it was called, remained virtually

in this form for many years. It was not sufficiently effective

or efficient to be of much practical usefulness in any art, and

was considered more of a scientific toy than a machine of serious

importance. Still, the probability was realized by many investigators

that a new discovery or invention might be made at any moment, that

would put it in the forefront of the useful inventions of the age. (The

invention was not made till 1862; it was made by Pacinnotti in Italy

and will be mentioned later.)

The influence of the magneto-electric machine, therefore was not

direct, but indirect. It was a basic invention; and like many basic

inventions, it formed the hidden foundation on which a conspicuous

superstructure was later to be reared. One of the lessons of history is

that it is the men and the methods and the other things which are in

evidence when some important occurrence happens, that are identified

with it in the minds of people not only at the time, but afterward.

An invention that may have cost its creator the toil and struggle

of a lifetime may not gain success simply because of some existing

unfavorable conditions of some kind. Suddenly the conditions become

favorable. John Doe takes advantage of all the work that other men have

done, adds some slight improvement, achieves "success" and dons the

laurel wreath.

We see at this time (1832) very clear signs of an increasing number

of inventions per year, an increasing speed of invention. We see an

acceleration in invention which we cannot help associating in our minds

with the acceleration which any material object gets, when continuously

subjected to a uniform force, like that of gravity. One almost feels

that there must be a continuous force impelling men to invent; so clear

is the increase of the speed of inventing.

Following the magneto-machine in 1832 came the invention of a rotary

electric motor by Sturgeon, the discovery of chloral-hydrate by

Liebig, the production of the first large American locomotive by

Baldwin and the invention of link motion by Sir Henry James. The

last was an exceedingly important and ingenious contribution to the

steam engine, especially in locomotives and ships; for it gave a very

quick and sure means of reversing its direction of motion, and of

regulating the travel of the valve and the degree of expansion of the

steam. In the following year came Stephenson's steam whistle; and in

the year following (1834) came the McCormick reaper. Few inventions

have had a greater or a more immediate effect on the trend of modern

progress, which is to influence men to live in large communities. For

the McCormick reaper could do so much more work, and so much better

work, than men could do without it, that the cultivation of extensive

areas of land could be undertaken with the assurance that large crops

of grain could be secured. This not only secured more grain for the

country, but liberated many men from toil on farms, and permitted them

to migrate to the cities.

The author does not wish to be understood as meaning that migration to

cities is wholly desirable; for he is familiar with its disadvantages

and dangers. But whether it be desirable or not is beyond the scope

of this book. This book is merely a modest attempt to point out the

influence of invention in making the world what it is today. Perhaps it

would have been better if men had had no invention and had remained in

a state of savagery. Some men say so sometimes; but even those men (or

most of them) like to sit by a warm fire in a cozy room when it is cold

outdoors. The consensus of opinion seems to be that civilization in the

main has been a blessing to men, though not an unmixed blessing, and

though men must keep on their guard against certain manifest dangers

which civilization entails.

In the same year, 1834, Jacobi invented an electric motor and Runge

made the important discovery of carbolic acid. In 1835 Burden invented

a horse-shoe machine. In 1836 four important inventions added four

important parts to our rapidly growing Machine.

The first was the "constant battery" invented by Daniell. Before this

time a Voltaic cell, or battery, soon lost its strength, because of

various chemical actions inside the cell which need not be detailed

here. Daniell overcame this difficulty almost wholly by inventing a

battery, in which there were two liquids instead of one, and the two

liquids were in two separate compartments but separated only by porous

material. This invention was successful from the start, and immediately

increased the usefulness of Voltaic batteries and the means of

utilizing electric currents.

The second great invention in 1836 was that of acetylene gas made by

Edmund Davy. It is still the most brilliant illuminating gas we have,

and is rivaled by the electric arc-light only. The third invention was

that of the revolver, made by Samuel Colt.

It may be objected by some that the revolver did not contribute

anything valuable to the Machine of Civilization because it was merely

an improvement on the pistol, and enabled one to kill more men in a

given time than he could before. Such an objection would have much to

justify it; but it may be pointed out that the Machine must be made

self-protective as far as possible; and that anything which increases

the power of civilized man as against the savage, or barbarous, or

semi-barbarous increases its power of self-protection. It is true

that a savage can use a revolver, if he be instructed; but the more

complicated a weapon is the more difficult it is for a savage, as

compared with a civilized man, to use it effectively. This is not

an argument in favor of complication for its own sake; but it is

an argument in favor of accepting complication in a weapon, if the

complication renders greater effectiveness possible.

The last invention was the most important of the four, the application

of the screw propeller to navigation made by John Ericsson. The author

is aware of the fact that this invention was claimed by others, and

is claimed for others now. The weight of testimony, however seems

to be on the side of Ericsson; and as has been pointed out before,

the question of the identity of the inventor is not important to our

discussion. The first ocean steamship to be propelled by a screw was

the _Stockton_, which was built in England under Ericsson and fitted

with his screw. The first war-ship to be fitted with a screw was the U.

S. S. _Princeton_ in 1841. Its screw was designed by Ericsson.

In 1837 Crawford invented a process for "galvanizing" iron; for

electro-plating it with a non-oxidizable metal. The value of this

invention in preserving iron wire and iron articles in general needs

not to be pointed out; it was a contribution to the permanency of the

Machine. In the same year, Cooke and Wheatstone in England invented

their famous "Needle Telegraph," in which a magnetic needle was made to

deflect quickly to the right or left when one of two keys was pressed

by an operator and letters thereby signaled. This invention was a

valuable contribution; but it was eventually superseded by Morse's

telegraph, after that system had established itself in the United

States and on the Continent.

In 1839 Babbitt invented his celebrated Babbitt metal, which has been

successfully used ever since in the bearings of engines and in moving

machinery generally, for reducing friction; and in the same year

Goodyear made an invention even more important, the art of hardening,

or "vulcanizing," rubber by means of sulphur. This invention was a

great boon to mankind, but not to Goodyear; for the jackals who lie

in wait for great inventions eager to wrest unearned profit for

themselves from the men who have truly earned it, made Goodyear's

life miserable for many years. Before he died, however, his wrongs

were righted at least in part. In the same year Jacobi, in Germany,

propelled a boat by electricity using an electric motor of his own

invention.

But the great contributions made in 1839 were to the art of what we now

call photography. About 1834 Talbot had succeeded in taking pictures

in a camera by the agency of light on paper washed with nitrate of

silver and also in fixing them. Later, he was able to obtain many

copies, or "proofs," from one picture or negative. It seems that he

did not publicly announce his invention till 1839. To it was given the

name "calotype." In May of that year Mr. Mungo Ponton announced that

he had been able to copy pictures of engravings and of dried plants on

paper that he had soaked in bichromate of potash. A number of other

investigators forthwith announced similar feats, using various chemical

solutions.

In 1840 Draper published the result of certain important experiments

made by him in photographing celestial bodies. In 1841 pneumatic

caissons were invented by Triger in France. In 1842 Long discovered

the usefulness of ether as an anæsthetic, and Seytre invented the

automatically played piano. In the same year, Selligne discovered a

method of utilizing water-gas, made by decomposing water and producing

a new illuminating agent that could be used by itself or in combination

with coal gas. In the same year James Nasmyth in Scotland invented the

steam hammer--a simple appliance by means of which steam was able to

make a hammer give blows much heavier than the human arm could give.

This invention belongs to the class in which the human muscles are

assisted in doing work which the brain directs them to do, but which

they are not strong enough to do effectively.

The self-playing piano belongs in a class closely allied, in which the

machine invented merely assists the muscles: the assistance in this

class being not in supplying power in order to do more work, however,

but in supplying what may be called auxiliary physical agencies. In the

player piano, the fingers are replaced by little mechanical hammers; in

the steam hammer the arm is replaced by a piston actuated by steam. One

secures quickness, the other secures force.

But the self-playing piano and the steam hammer are in very different

classes, when viewed from the standpoint of their influence on history.

The influence of the piano is scarcely discernible, while the influence

of the steam hammer stands out in enormous letters of steel. The piano

seems to be in the same category as are literature and poetry and music

in general: it serves to please. The steam-hammer, on the other hand,

has had so great an influence on history subsequent to its invention,

that we know that subsequent history could not have been as it has

been, if the steam hammer had not been invented.

It has been the steam hammer and the ensuing modifications of it that

have made possible the making of large forgings of iron and steel. It

has been the large forgings of iron and steel that have made possible

the use of large solid masses of those metals in the construction of

engines, guns, shells, houses, bridges and ships. It is the ability

to use large and solid masses of iron and steel, free from holes and

seams, that has enabled constructors and engineers to produce the

tremendous engineering structures that characterize today. _The main

element in the progress of the race has been its triumph over the

forces of material Nature._ This triumph has been gained by inventors,

who conceived of certain methods and devices (clothing, for instance)

by means of which materials provided by Nature could be utilized by man

to protect himself against her attacks upon him--attacks by cold, for

instance. Inventions of the useful kind have had a history of their

own, as definite as the history of any other thing or things, in which

it is shown that every useful instrument or method has been succeeded

by another and better; so that the history of useful inventions may

be compared to a picture of men mounting a flight of stairs toward

civilization, the steps of the stairs being the successive useful

inventions of different kinds.

The paragraph just written is not intended to mean that inventions

which please have no value, but merely to point out the difference

between what are aptly called the fine arts and the useful arts. There

would be little happiness given to man by toilsomely climbing the

stairway to civilization, unless he were occasionally cheered on the

way by a strain of music, or a beautiful painting, or a poem, or a

brisk walk in northwest weather, or a gladdening glass of wine. It may

be argued that these are the things that really give happiness; it may

be claimed that these things go direct to the seat of happiness in the

brain, but that steam hammers merely provide a material civilization,

which continuously promises to make men happier some day, but never

makes them happier.

Verily, verily, the way to happiness is not so clearly marked, that

anyone can walk in it all the time, or even for five minutes, except

on rare occasions. The consensus of opinion seems to be, however, that

the civilized man is, on the whole, happier than the savage; that

civilization is preferable to savagery. It is the purpose of this book,

moreover, merely to point out that that structure of civilization has

become so complicated and is moving so fast that it is now a veritable

machine and to indicate the part that invention has taken in building

it.

Not only is it a veritable machine, it is the largest, the most

powerful, the most intricate machine we know of--except the solar

system and the greater systems beyond it. And not only is it powerful

and intricate--it is, like all powerful and intricate machines,

extremely delicate. Extreme delicacy is a characteristic of all

machines; it is inherent in every machine, simply because the good

working of every part is dependent on the good working of every other

part. An organism is a machine of the highest order, and therefore

possesses this characteristic of inter-dependability in its highest

form. A club is not an organism, or even a machine, and does not

possess it. If a man injures one end of a club the other end is just as

good as before; but if a club injures one end of a man, the other end

is injured also. A severe blow on the head will prevent the effective

use of the foot, and a severe blow on the foot will prevent the

effective use of the head.

Similarly, in this great Machine of Civilization, a war between any

two nations affects every other nation in the realm of civilization,

though it may not affect appreciably the savages of Australia. A strike

in the coal mines affects every person in the United States;--and even

a threat to strike by the railway employees affects not only the whole

United States, but, to some degree, all Europe.

This brings us to realize that, while the Machine of Civilization

itself has improved tremendously, it is only as a machine, and only

because it is a machine. It should make us realize also that the mere

fact that a machine is good or useful is no bar to its being destroyed.

It should make us realize besides that the finer a machine is the

greater danger there is of its being injured and even destroyed, by

careless or ignorant handling. These facts are clearly realized by all

engineering companies of all kinds; and the result has been that highly

competent engineers have been trained to care for and handle their

engines. There are no more highly competent men in any callings than

are the engineers in every civilized country. One might declare without

much exaggeration that, of all the men in business or professions, the

engineers are the most competent for their especial tasks; and the

reasonableness of the declaration might be pointed out on the ground

that the very nature of the engineering profession (unlike that of

most other professions) makes it impossible for an engineer to be

incompetent, and yet maintain his standing.

But the Machine of Civilization is composed not only of material

parts, such as come within the province of the engineer, but also of

immaterial parts; in fact, the principal parts are men, and especially

the minds of men. It is the office of the Machine of Government to

handle the men. It is also its office to direct their minds; because

unless those minds view things correctly, the Machine of Government

cannot work with smoothness. Now, men are inferior to machines in one

important way:--men, as men, cannot be improved. It therefore devolves

on Government continuously to instruct and train men to handle the

Machine of Civilization skillfully, because the machine is being made

more and more complicated, and more and more in need of intelligent

care, with every passing day.

Is this fact realized? I fear not. No sign is visible to the author of

these pages that the people in any country realize or even suspect that

there is any need for looking out for the integrity of the Machine as

a whole. The closest approximation to it is a belated realization that

the Bolsheviki are a danger to "society." The people do not seem even

to realize the necessity of having competent experts at the head of

governmental affairs.

The Machine of Civilization had been developed to a very high stage

when Trajan ruled the world about the year 100 A. D. For three-quarters

of a century afterward, it continued to run with smoothness, under

intelligent care; but in the year 180 A. D. Commodus came to the

throne, and soon after began to abuse it. For two hundred years

thereafter, the Machine suffered from such abuse and neglect, that by

the year 395, it had become so unwieldy, that it was divided into two

parts, one administered from Rome and the other from Constantinople.

The two parts soon became two separate Machines, the Roman Machine

being at first the better, but gradually becoming more and more

ineffective under the unfavorable conditions of abuse and neglect. In

476, the Roman Machine broke down completely, and the barbarian chief,

Odoacer, sat himself on the throne of Octavius Cæsar.

A ruin more complete, it would be hard to realize. The vast structure

of Roman civilization, built on the civilization of Greece and Assyria

and Babylonia and Egypt, was hurled to the ground; and its fine and

beautiful parts were scattered to the winds by barbarians who hated

civilization because they were barbarians. The progress of science

and literature and art stopped. The marvelous inventions of the past

were forgotten and disused. A condition of semi-barbarism passed into

Europe, and continued for a period of five hundred years, to which the

name Dark Ages has been aptly given. A feeble light began to glow about

800 A. D. as a result of the activities of Charlemagne, but it almost

expired when he did. It began again when the Crusaders came back from

the Orient with knowledge of the civilization that still persisted

there; and shortly after came the first effort of the Renaissance.

Then followed the invention of the gun, and then the invention of

printing:--and presto--the making of another Machine of Civilization is

begun.

Now let us realize three facts: one fact is that the Machine of

Modern Civilization, though bigger and more complicated than the one

of Trajan's time is not nearly so strong; another fact is that the

Roman Machine was destroyed because it had become ineffective through

carelessness and abuse; the third fact is that because in a measure,

"history repeats itself," the Modern Machine may be destroyed, as the

Roman was.

The Machine of today is vastly weaker than Trajan's. Trajan's Machine

was operated by a powerful empire that controlled the whole world

absolutely. No rival of Rome existed. The structure of society was

simple, homogeneous and strong. It was almost wholly military. It

rested on force; but that force rested on reason, moderation, skill and

patriotism. Rome had many foes; but they were so weak compared with

Rome, that she had naught to fear from them--so long as she kept her

Machine in order.

The Machine of today is not only more complicated than that of Trajan,

and therefore more liable to derangement from that cause alone--but

it is supported by no government that dominates the world. On the

contrary, the control is divided among a number of different nations

that have diverse interests. The influence of this condition can be

clearly seen in the fact that every great war has set back the progress

of civilization for a while in all civilized countries, even though

in some ways it has advanced it. The World War just finished, for

instance, shook the very foundations of society; and we do not yet

know that it did not impair them seriously. Certainly the Machine has

not yet begun to run smoothly again. Certainly, the Bolsheviki are

threatening it as seriously as the barbarians began to threaten Rome

not long after Trajan's time. The Romans did not regard the barbarians

then any more seriously than we regard the Bolsheviki now.

The barbarians finally succeeded in destroying the Roman Machine, but

not for the reason that they had become any stronger. They had not

become any stronger, but the Roman Machine had become weaker. It had

become weaker for the reason that the men in charge of it had not taken

the proper care of it. They failed to take proper care of it, for the

reason that they were not the proper kind of men to have charge of that

kind of machine. The reason for this was that the Roman people did

not see to it that they put the proper kind of men in charge of their

Machine.

Someone may say that Rome was an autocracy, and that there are no

autocracies now. True, but republics have been inefficient, just as

often, and in as great a degree as autocracies have. The United States

under President Buchanan, for instance, was excessively inefficient;

while the Roman autocracy under Octavius was exceedingly efficient.

But whether a government is autocratic or democratic, the degree of

civilization must depend in the main on the people themselves. Even

the power and genius of Charlemagne could not at once make Europe

civilized; and even the power and bestiality of Commodus could not at

once make Rome uncivilized. In every nation, the rulers and the people

re-act upon each other, and each makes the other in a measure what they

are. A people that are strong and worthy will not long be governed

by men who are weak and unworthy. If a nation continues to have weak

and unworthy rulers, it is because the people themselves are weak and

unworthy.

Therefore, it is an insufficient explanation of the breaking down of

the Roman Machine to declare that the Roman emperors were what they

were. The Roman emperors reflected the Roman people, or they would not

have remained Roman emperors. If the Roman people had been as strong

individually and collectively as they were in the days of Octavius

and Trajan, no such emperors as later sat on the throne would have

been possible. But the Roman people gradually deteriorated, morally,

mentally, and even physically; and inefficient government was one of

the results.

What caused the deterioration of the Roman people? The same thing that

has caused the deterioration of every other great people that have

deteriorated--the softening influence of wealth and ease.

Thus, Rome did not fall because of the barbarians, but because of

herself. She fell because her people allowed the Machine which she had

built up, in spite of the barbarians outside, at so much cost of labor

and blood, to become so weak that it could no longer protect itself.

Can this happen to our Machine? Yes, and it will happen as surely as

effect follows after cause, unless means be taken to see that men are

trained to care for the Machine more carefully than they are trained

now. _In no country is there any serious effort made to train men to

operate the Machine of Government_, except those parts of the Machine

that are called the army and the navy:--though some tremendous efforts

are made in private life to train men to handle corporations and

business enterprises, and to learn all that can be learned in medicine,

engineering, the Law and all the "learned professions." And even the

efforts made to train officers to handle armies and navies are in great

part neutralized by placing men at the head of those armies and navies

who are not trained in the slightest.

The Roman Machine fell with a crash that was proportional to the

magnitude of the Machine. The Machine of today is much larger and

heavier than the Roman. If it falls, as it may, the crash will be

proportionally greater. What will follow, the mind recoils from

contemplating.

Invention: The Master-key to Progress · 第 9 / 11 章