CHAPTER X.

Employment of machinery in manufactures and

agriculture--Erroneous notions formerly prevalent on this

subject--Its advantages to the labourer--Spade-husbandry--

The _principle_ of machinery--Machines and tools--Change in

the condition of England consequent on the introduction of

machinery--Modern New Zealanders and ancient

Greeks--Hand-mills and water-mills.

One of the most striking effects of the want of knowledge producing

disunions amongst mankind that are injurious to the interests of each

and all, is the belief which still exists amongst many well-meaning but

unreflecting persons, that the powers and arrangements which Capital has

created and devised for the advancement of production are injurious to

the great body of working-men in their character of producers. The great

forces by which capital and labour now work,--forces which are gathering

strength every day,--are accumulation of skill and division of

employments. It will be for us to show that the applications of science

to the manufacturing arts have the effect of ensuring cheap production

and increased employment. These applications of science are principally

displayed in the use of MACHINERY; and we shall endeavour to prove that,

although individual labour may be partially displaced, or unsettled for

a time, by the use of this cheaper and better power than unassisted

manual labour, all are great gainers by the general use of that power.

Through that power all principally possess, however poor they may be,

many of the comforts which make the difference between man in a

civilized and man in a savage state; and further, that, in consequence

of machinery having rendered productions of all sorts cheaper, and

therefore caused them to be more universally purchased, it has really

increased the demand for that manual labour, which it appears to some,

reasoning only from a few instances, it has a tendency to diminish.

In the year 1827 a Committee of the House of Commons was appointed to

examine into the subject of Emigration. The first person examined before

that Committee was Joseph Foster, a working weaver of Glasgow. He told

the Committee that he and many others, who had formed themselves into a

society, were in great distress; that numbers of them worked at the

_hand-loom_ from eighteen to nineteen hours a day, and that their

earnings, at the utmost, did not amount to more than seven shillings

a-week, and that sometimes they were as low as four shillings. That

twenty years before that time they could readily earn a pound a-week by

the same industry; and that as _power-loom_ weaving had increased, the

distress of the hand-weavers also had increased in the same proportion.

The Committee then put to Joseph Foster the following questions, and

received the following answers:--

"_Q._ Are the Committee to understand that you attribute the

insufficiency of your remuneration for your labour to the

introduction of machinery?

"_A._ Yes.

"_Q._ Do you consider, therefore, that the introduction of

machinery is objectionable?

"_A._ We do not. The weavers in general, of Glasgow and its

vicinity, do not consider that machinery can or ought to be

stopped, or put down. They know perfectly well that machinery must

go on, that it will go on, and that it is impossible to stop it.

They are aware that every implement of agriculture or manufacture

is a portion of machinery, and, indeed, everything that goes

beyond the teeth and nails (if I may use the expression) is a

machine. I am authorized, by the majority of our society, to say

that I speak their minds, as well as my own, in stating this."

It is worthy of note how the common sense of this working-man, a quarter

of a century ago, saw clearly the great principle which overthrows, in

the outset, all unreasoning hostility to machinery. Let us follow out

his principle.

Amongst the many accounts which the newspapers in December, 1830, gave

of the destruction of machinery by agricultural labourers, we observed

that in the neighbourhood of Aylesbury a band of mistaken and

unfortunate men destroyed all the machinery of many farms, _down even to

the common drills_. The men conducted themselves, says the county

newspaper, with civility; and such was their consideration, that they

moved the machines out of the farm-yards, to prevent injury arising to

the cattle from the nails and splinters that flew about while the

machinery was being destroyed. They _could not make up their minds_ as

to the propriety of destroying a horse-churn, and therefore that machine

was passed over.

A quarter of a century has made a remarkable difference in the feelings,

even in the least informed, with regard to machinery. The majority of

the people now know, as the weavers of Glasgow knew in 1827, that

"machinery must go on, that it will go on, and that it is impossible to

stop it." We therefore, adapting this volume to the improved times in

which it is now published, think it needless to urge, as fully as we

once did, any of the notions of the labourers of Aylesbury to their

inevitable conclusions. It is sufficient briefly to show, that, if the

labourers had been successful in their career, had broken all those

ingenious implements which have aided in rendering British agriculture

the most perfect in the world, they would not have advanced a single

step in obtaining more employment, or being better paid.

We will suppose, then, that the farmer has yielded to this violence;

that the violence has had the effect which it was meant to have upon

him; and that he takes on all the hands which were out of employ, to

thrash and winnow, to cut chaff, to plant with a dibber instead of with

a drill, to do all the work, in fact, by the dearest mode instead of the

cheapest. But he employs _just as many people as are absolutely

necessary_, and no more, for getting his corn ready for market, and for

preparing, in a slovenly way, for the seed-time. In a month or two the

victorious destroyers find that not a single hand the more of them is

really employed. And why not? There are no drainings going forward, the

hedges and ditches are neglected, the dung-heap is not turned over, the

chalk is not fetched from the pit; in fact, all those labours are

neglected which belong to a state of agricultural industry which is

brought to perfection. _The farmer has no funds to employ in such

labours_; he is paying a great deal more than he paid before for the

same, or a less, amount of work, because his labourers choose to do

certain labours with rude tools instead of perfect ones.

We will imagine that this state of things continues till the next

spring. All this while the price of grain has been rising. Many farmers

have ceased to employ capital at all upon the land. The neat inventions,

which enabled them to make a living out of their business, being

destroyed, they have abandoned the business altogether. A day's work

will now no longer purchase as much bread as before. The horse, it might

be probably found out, was as great an enemy as the drill-plough; for,

as a horse will do the field-work of six men, there must be six men

employed, without doubt, instead of one horse. But how would the fact

turn out? If the farmer still went on, in spite of all these losses and

crosses, he might employ men in the place of horses, but not a single

man more than the number that would work at the price of the keep of one

horse. To do the work of each horse turned adrift, he would require six

men; but he would only have about a shilling a-day to divide between

these six--the amount which the horse consumed.

As the year advanced, and the harvest approached, it would be discovered

that not one-tenth of the land was sown: for although the ploughs were

gone, because the horses were turned off, and there was plenty of

_labour_ for those who chose to labour for its own sake, or at the price

of horse-labour, this amazing employment for human hands, somehow or

other, would not quite answer the purpose. It has been calculated that

the power of horses, oxen, &c., employed in husbandry in Great Britain

is ten times the amount of human power. If the human power insisted

upon doing all the work with the worst tools, the certainty is that not

even one-tenth of the land could be cultivated. Where, then, would all

this madness end? In the starvation of the labourers themselves, even if

they were allowed to eat up all they had produced by such imperfect

means. They would be just in the condition of any other barbarous

people, that were ignorant of the inventions that constitute the power

of civilization. They would eat up the little corn which they raised

themselves, and have nothing to give in exchange for clothes, and coals,

and candles, and soap, and tea, and sugar, and all the many comforts

which those who are even the worst off are not wholly deprived of.

All this may appear as an extreme statement; and certainly we believe

that no such evils could have happened: for if the laws had been

passive, the most ignorant of the labourers themselves would, if they

had proceeded to carry their own principle much farther than they had

done, see in their very excesses the real character of the folly and

wickedness to which it had led, and would lead them. Why should the

labourers of Aylesbury not have destroyed the harrows as well as the

drills? Why leave a machine which separates the clods of the earth, and

break one which puts seed into it? Why deliberate about a horse-churn,

when they were resolved against a winnowing-machine? The truth is, these

poor men perceived, even in the midst of their excesses, the gross

deception of the reasons which induced them to commit them. Their motive

was a natural, and, if lawfully expressed, a proper impatience, under a

condition which had certainly many hardships, and those hardships in

great part produced by the want of profitable labour. But in imputing

those hardships to machinery, they were at once embarrassed when they

came to draw distinctions between one sort of machine and another. This

embarrassment decidedly shows that there were fearful mistakes at the

bottom of their furious hostility to machinery.

It has been said, by persons whose opinions are worthy attention, that

spade-husbandry is, in some cases, better than plough-husbandry;--that

is, that the earth, under particular circumstances of soil and

situation, may be more fitly prepared for the influences of the

atmosphere by digging than by ploughing. It is not our business to enter

into a consideration of this question. The growth of corn is a

manufacture, in which man employs the chemical properties of the soil

and of the air in conjunction with his own labour, aided by certain

tools or machines, for the production of a crop; and that power, whether

of chemistry or machinery,--whether of the salt, or the chalk, or the

dung, or the guano, which he puts upon the earth, or the spade or the

plough which he puts into it,--that power which does the work easiest is

necessarily the best, _because it diminishes the cost of production_. If

the plough does not do the work so well as the spade, it is a less

perfect machine; but the less perfect machine may be preferred to the

more perfect, because, taking other conditions into consideration, it is

a cheaper machine. If the spade, applied in a peculiar manner by the

strength and judgment of the man using it, more completely turns up the

soil, breaks the clods, and removes the weeds than the plough, which

receives one uniform direction from man with the assistance of other

animal power, then the spade is a more perfect machine in its

combination with human labour than the plough is, worked with a lesser

degree of the same combination. But still it may be a machine which

cannot be used with advantage to the producer, and is therefore not

desirable for the consumer. All such questions must be determined by the

cost of production; and that cost in agriculture is made up of the rent

of land, the profit of capital, and the wages of labour--or the portions

of the produce belonging to the landlord, the farmer, and the labourer.

Where rent is high, as in the immediate neighbourhood of large towns, it

is important to have the labour performed as carefully as possible, and

the succession of crops stimulated to the utmost extent by manure and

labour. It is economy to turn the soil to the greatest account, and the

land is cultivated as a garden. Where rent is low, it is important to

have the labour performed upon other principles, because one acre

cultivated by hand may cost more than two cultivated by the plough; and

though it may be the truest policy to carry the productiveness of the

earth as far as possible, field cultivation and garden cultivation must

have essential differences. In one case, the machine called a spade is

used; in the other, the machine called a plough is employed. The use of

the one or the other belongs to practical agriculture, and is a question

only of relative cost.

[Illustration: Centre of gravity]

And this brings us to the great _principle_ of all machinery. A tool of

the simplest construction is a machine; a machine of the most curious

construction is only a complicated tool. There are many cases in the

arts, and there may be cases in agriculture, in which the human arm and

hand, with or without a tool, may do work that no machine can so well

perform. There are processes in polishing, and there is a process in

copper-plate printing, in which no substance has been found to stand in

the place of the human hand. And, if therefore the man with a spade

alone does a certain agricultural work more completely than a man

guiding a plough, and a team of horses dragging it (which we do not

affirm or deny), the only reason for this is, that the man with the

spade is a better machine than the man with the plough and the horses.

The most stupid man that ever existed is, beyond all comparison, a

machine more cunningly made by the hands of his Creator, more perfect in

all his several parts, and with all his parts more exquisitely adapted

to the regulated movement of the whole body, less liable to accidents,

and less injured by wear and tear, than the most beautiful machine that

ever was, or ever will be, invented. There is no possibility of

supplying in many cases a substitute for the simplest movements of a

man's body, by the most complicated movements of the most ingenious

machinery. The laws of mechanism are the same whether applied to a man,

or to a lever, or a wheel; but the man has more pliability than any

combination of wheels and levers. "When a porter carries a burden, the

attitude of the body must accommodate itself to the position of the

common centre of gravity of himself and his load. Thus, in the

accompanying figures it will be observed that when the man stands

upright the centre of gravity of the man G falls within the base of

support; and if his load L falls without the base, as does likewise _g_,

the common centre of gravity of the man and load, the consequence would

be that he would fall backwards; but this is prevented, or, which is the

same thing, the point _g_ is brought within the base by the man bending

his body forward."[15] What is called the lay figure of the painter--a

wooden image with many joints--may be bent here and there; but the

artist who wanted to draw a porter with a load could not put a

hundredweight upon the back of his image and keep it upon its legs. The

natural machinery by which a man even lifts his hand to his head is at

once so complex and so simple, so apparently easy and yet so entirely

dependent upon the right adjustment of a great many contrary forces,

that no automaton, or machine imitating the actions of man, could ever

be made to effect this seemingly simple motion, without showing that the

contrivance was imperfect,--that it was a mere imitation, and a very

clumsy one. What an easy thing it appears to be for a farming man to

thrash his corn with a flail; and yet what an expensive arrangement of

wheels is necessary to produce the same effects with a thrashing-machine!

The truth is, that the man's arm and the flail form a much more curious

machine than the other machine of wheels, which does the same work; and

the real question as regards the value of the two machines is, which

machine in the greater degree lessens the cost of production?

We state this principle broadly, in our examination into the value of

machinery in diminishing the cost of producing human food. A machine is

not perfect because it is made of wheels or cylinders, employs the power

of the screw or the lever, is driven by wind or water or steam, but

because it best assists the labour of man, by calling into action some

power which he does not possess in himself. If we could imagine a man

entirely dispossessed of this power, we should see the feeblest of

animal beings. He has no tools which are a part of himself, to build

houses like the beaver, or cells like the bee. He has not even learnt

from nature to build, instinctively, by certain and unchangeable rules.

His power is in his mind; and that mind teaches him to subject all the

physical world to his dominion, by availing himself of the forces which

nature has spread around him. To act upon material objects he arms his

weakness with tools and with machines. As we have before said, tools and

machines are in principle the same. When we strike a nail upon the head

with a hammer, we avail ourselves of a power which we find in

nature--the effect produced by the concussion of two bodies; when we

employ a water-wheel to beat out a lump of iron with a much larger

hammer, we still avail ourselves of the same power. There is no

difference in the nature of the instruments, although we call the one a

tool, and the other a machine. Neither the tool nor the machine has any

force of itself. In one case the force is in the arm, in the other in

the weight of water which turns the wheel. The distinctions which have

been taken between a tool and a machine are really so trivial, and the

line of separation between the one and the other is so slight, that we

can only speak of both as common instruments for adding to the

efficiency of labour. The simplest application of a principle of

mechanics to an every-day hand-tool may convert it into what is called a

machine. Take a three-pronged fork--one of the universal tools;--fasten

a rope to the end of the handle; put a log under the fork as a fulcrum;

and we have a lever, when pulled down by the rope, which will grub up a

strongly-rooted large shrub in a few minutes. The labourer has called in

a powerful ally. The tool has become a machine.

[Illustration: A tool made a machine]

The chief difference between man in a rude, and man in a civilized state

of society is, that the one wastes his force, whether natural or

acquired,--the other economizes, that is, saves it. The man in a rude

state has very rude instruments; he therefore wastes his force: the man

in a civilized state has very perfect ones; he therefore economizes it.

Should we not laugh at the gardener who went to hoe his potatoes with a

stick having a short crook at the end? It would be a tool, we should

say, fit only for children to use. Yet such a tool was doubtless

employed by some very ancient nations; for there is an old medal of

Syracuse which represents this very tool. The common hoe of the English

gardener is a much more perfect tool, because it saves labour. Could we

have any doubt of the madness of the man who would propose that all iron

hoes should be abolished, to furnish more extensive employ to labourers

who should be provided only with a crooked stick cut out of a hedge? The

truth is, if the working men of England had no better tools than crooked

sticks, they would be in a state of actual starvation. One of the chiefs

of New Zealand, before that country had been colonized by us, told Mr.

Marsden, a missionary, that his wooden spades were all broken, and he

had not an axe to make any more;--his canoes were all broken, and he had

not a nail or a gimlet to mend them with;--his potato-grounds were

uncultivated, and he had not a hoe to break them up with;--and that _for

want of cultivation_ he and his people would have nothing to eat. This

shows the state of a people without tools. The man had seen English

tools, and knew their value.

About three or four hundred years ago, from the times of king Henry IV.

to those of king Henry VI., and, indeed, long before these reigns, there

were often, as we have already mentioned, grievous famines in this

country, because the land was very wretchedly cultivated. Men, women,

and children perished of actual hunger by thousands; and those who

survived kept themselves alive by eating the bark of trees, acorns, and

pig-nuts. There were no machines then; but the condition of the

labourers was so bad, that they could not be kept to work upon the land

without those very severe and tyrannical laws noticed in Chap. VII.,

which absolutely forbade them to leave the station in which they were

born as labourers, for any hope of bettering their condition in the

towns. There were not labourers enough to till the ground, for they

worked without any skill, with weak ploughs and awkward hoes. They were

just as badly off as some of the people of Portugal and Spain, who are

miserably poor, _because_ they have bad machines; or as the Chinese

labourers, who have scarcely any machines, and are the poorest in the

world. There was plenty of labour to be performed, but the tools were so

bad, and the want of agricultural knowledge so universal, that the land

was never half cultivated, and therefore all classes were poorly off.

They had little corn to exchange for manufactures, and in consequence

the labourer was badly clothed, badly lodged, and had a very indifferent

share of the scanty crop which he raised. The condition of the labourer

would have proceeded from bad to worse, had agricultural improvement not

gone forward to improve the general condition of all classes. Commons

were enclosed; arable land was laid down to pasture; sheep were kept

upon grass-land where wretched crops had before been growing. This was

superseding labour to a great extent, and much clamour was raised about

this plan, and probably a large amount of real distress was produced.

But mark the consequence. Although the money wages of labour were

lowered, because there were more labourers in the market, the real

amount of wages was higher, for better food was created by pasturage at

a cheaper rate. The labourer then got meat who had never tasted it

before; and when the use of animal food became general, there were

cattle and corn enough to be exchanged for manufactured goods, and the

labourer got a coat and a pair of shoes, who had formerly gone half

naked. Step by step have we been going in the same direction for two

centuries; and the agricultural industry of Great Britain is now as much

directed to the production of meat, milk, butter, cheese, as to the

growth of corn and other cereals. The once simple husbandry of our

forefathers has become a scientific manufacture.

[Illustration: Spinning.]

There may be some persons still who object to machinery, because, having

grown up surrounded with the benefits it has conferred upon them,

without understanding the source of these benefits, they are something

like the child who sees nothing but evil in a rainy day. The people of

New Zealand very rarely came to us; but when they did come they were

acute enough to perceive the advantages which machinery has conferred

upon us, and the great distance in point of comfort between their state

and ours, principally for the reason that they have no machinery, while

we have a great deal. One of these men burst into tears when he saw a

rope-walk; because he perceived the immense superiority which the

process of spinning ropes gave us over his own countrymen. He was

ingenious enough, and so were many of his fellow islanders, to have

twisted threads together after a rude fashion; but he knew that he was a

long way off from making a rope. The New Zealander saw the spinner in

the rope-walk, moving away from a wheel, and gradually forming the hemp

round his body into a strong cord. By the operation of the wheel he is

enabled so to twine together a number of separate fibres, that no one

fibre can be separated from the mass, but forms part of a hard and

compact body. A series of these operations produces a cable, such as may

hold a barge at anchor. The twisted fibres of hemp become yarn; many

yarns become a strand; three strands make a rope; and three ropes make a

cablet, or small cable. By carefully untwisting all its separate parts,

the principle upon which it is constructed is evident. The operation

is a complex one; and the rope-maker is a skilled workman. Rope-making

machinery is now carried much farther. But the wheel that twisted the

hemp into yarn was a prodigy to the inquiring savage.

[Illustration: Making Ropes by Huddart's Machinery.]

[Illustration: Analysis of a Cablet.]

Another of these New Zealanders, and he was a very shrewd and

intelligent person, carried back to his country a small hand-mill for

grinding corn, which he prized as the greatest of all earthly

possessions. And well might he prize it! He had no machine for

converting corn into meal, but two stones, such as were used in the

remote parts of the highlands of Scotland some years ago. And to beat

the grain into meal by these two stones (a machine, remember, however

imperfect) would occupy the labour of one-fourth of his family, to

procure subsistence for the other three-fourths. The ancient Greeks,

three thousand years ago, had improved upon the machinery of the

hand-stones, for they had hand-mills. But Homer, the old Greek poet,

describes the unhappy condition of the slave who was always employed in

using this mill. The groans of the slave were unheeded by those who

consumed the produce of his labour; and such was the necessity for meal,

that the women were compelled to turn these mills when there were not

slaves enough taken in war to perform this irksome office. There was

plenty of labour then to be performed, even with the machinery of the

hand-mill; but the slaves and the women did not consider that labour was

a good in itself, and therefore they bitterly groaned under it. By and

bye the understandings of men found out that water and wind would do the

same work that the slaves and the women had done; and that a large

quantity of labour was at liberty to be employed for other purposes.

Does any one ask if society was in a worse state in consequence? We

answer, labour is worth nothing without results. Its value is only to be

measured by what it produces. If, in a country where hand-mills could be

had, the people were to go on beating grain between two stones, all

would pronounce them fools, because they could obtain an equal quantity

of meal with a much less expenditure of labour. Some have a general

prejudice against that sort of machinery which does its work with very

little human assistance; it is not quite so certain, therefore, that

they would agree that a people would be equal fools to use the hand-mill

when they could employ the wind-mill or the water-mill. But we believe

they would think that, if flour could drop from heaven, or be had like

water by whoever chose to seek it, it would be the height of folly to

have stones, or hand-mills, or water-mills, or wind-mills, or any

machine whatever for manufacturing flour. Does any one ever think of

_manufacturing_ water? The cost of water is only the cost of the labour

which brings it to the place in which it is consumed. Yet this admission

overturns all objections against machinery. _We admit that it is

desirable to obtain a thing with no labour at all; can we therefore

doubt that it is desirable to obtain it with the least possible labour?_

The only difference between no labour and a little labour is the

difference of the cost of production. And the only difference between

little labour and much labour is precisely the same. In procuring

anything that administers to his necessities, man makes an exchange of

his labour for the thing produced, and the less he gives of his labour

the better of course is his bargain.

To return to the hand-mill and the water-mill. An ordinary water-mill

for grinding corn will grind about thirty-six sacks a day. To do the

same work with a hand-mill would require 150 men. At two shillings a day

the wages of these men would amount to 15_l._, which, reckoning six

working days, is 90_l._ a week, or 4680_l._ a year. The rent and taxes

of a mill would be about 150_l._ a year, or 10_s._ a working day. The

cost of machinery would be certainly more for the hand-mills than the

water-mill, therefore we will not take the cost of machinery into

calculation. To produce, therefore, thirty-six sacks of flour by hand we

should pay 15_l._; by the water-mill we should pay 10_s._: that is, we

should pay thirty times as much by the one process as by the other. The

actual saving is something about the price of the flour in the market;

that is, the consumer, if the corn were ground by hand, would pay double

what he pays now for flour ground at a mill.

But if the system of grinding corn by hand were a very recent system of

society, and the introduction of so great a benefit as the water-mill

had all at once displaced the hand-grinders, as the spinning machinery

displaced the spinning-wheel, what must become, it is said, of the one

hundred and fifty men who earned the 15_l._ a-day, of which sum the

consumer has now got 14_l._ 10_s._ in his pocket? They must go to other

work. And what is to set them to that work? The same 14_l._ 10_s._;

which, being saved in the price of flour, gives the poor man, as well as

the rich man, more animal food and fuel; a greater quantity of clothes,

and of a better quality; a better house than his hand-labouring

ancestors used to have, much as his house might yet be improved; better

furniture, and more of it; domestic utensils; and books. To produce

these things there must be more labourers employed than before. The

quantity of labour is, therefore, not diminished, while its

productiveness is much increased. It is as if every man among us had

become suddenly much stronger and more industrious. The machines labour

for us, and are yet satisfied without either food or clothing. They

increase all our comforts, and they consume none themselves. The

hand-mills are not grinding, it is true: but the ships are sailing that

bring us foreign produce; the looms are moving that give us more

clothes; the potter, and glass-maker, and joiner, are each employed to

add to our household goods; we are each of us elevated in the scale of

society; and all these things happen because machinery has diminished

the cost of production.

[Illustration: Mill at Guy's Cliff.]

The water-mill is, however, a simple machine compared with some mills of

modern times. We are familiar with the village-mill. As we walk by the

side of some gentle stream, such as that which turns the mill at Guy's

Cliff, in Warwickshire, we hear at a distance the murmur of water and

the growl of wheels. We come upon the old mill, such as it has stood for

a couple of centuries. No peasant quarrels with the mill. It is an

object almost of his love; for he knows that it cheapens his food. It

seems a part of the natural scenery amidst which he has been reared.

But let a more efficient machine for grinding corn be introduced, such

as the Americans have at Pittsburgh, and the peasant might think that

the working millers would be ruined. And yet the mill at Pittsburgh is

making flour cheaper in England, by that competition which here forces

onward improvement in mill-machinery; and by increasing the consumption

of flour calls into action more superintending labour for its

production. That particular American mill produces 500 barrels of flour

per day, each containing 196 lbs., and it employs forty managing persons.

It produces cheap flour by saving labour in all its processes. It stands

on the bank of a navigable river--a high building into which the corn

for grinding must be removed from boats alongside. Is the grain

necessary to produce these 500 barrels of flour per day, amounting to

98,000 lbs., carried by man's labour to the topmost floor of that high

mill? It is "raised by an elevator consisting of an endless band, to

which are fixed a series of metal cans revolving in a long wooden

trough, which is lowered through the respective hatchways into the boat,

and is connected at its upper end with the building where its belt is

driven. The lower end of the trough is open, and, as the endless band

revolves, six or eight men shovel the grain into the ascending cans,

which raise it so rapidly that 4000 bushels can be lifted and deposited

in the mill in an hour."[16] The drudging and unskilled labourers who

would have toiled in carrying up the grain are free to do some skilled

labour, of which the amount required is constantly increasing; and the

cost saved by the elevator goes towards the great universal fund, out of

which more labour and better labour are to find the means of employment.

[15] See an article by Mr. Bishop, on 'Locomotion of Animals,' in

'English Cyclopaedia.'

[16] Whitworth's Special Report.

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