CHAPTER XX.

Influences of knowledge in the direction of labour and

capital--Astronomy--Chronometer--Mariner's

compass--Scientific travellers--New materials of

manufactures--India-rubber--Gutta-percha--Palm-oil--

Geology--Inventions that diminish risk--Science raising

up new employments--Electricity--Galvanism--Sun-light--

Mental labourers--Enlightened public sentiment.

Lord Bacon, the great master of practical wisdom, has said that "the

effort to extend the dominion of man over nature is the most healthy and

most noble of all ambitions." "The empire of man," he adds, "over

material things has for its only foundation the sciences and the

arts."[24] A great deal of the knowledge which constitutes this dominion

has been the property of society, handed down from the earliest ages. No

one can tell, for instance, how the art of leavening bread was

introduced amongst mankind; and yet this process, now so familiar to

all, contributes as much, if not more, than any other art to the

wholesome and agreeable preparation of our food. Leavening bread is a

branch of chemistry, and, like that process, many other processes of

chemistry have been the common property of civilized man from time

immemorial. Within a few centuries, however, science has applied its

discoveries to the perfection of the arts; and in proportion as capital

has been at hand to encourage science, has the progress of the

application been certain and rapid. The old Alchemists, or hunters after

the philosopher's stone, sought to create capital by their discoveries.

They could not make gold, but they discovered certain principles which

have done as much for the creation of utility in a few hundred years as

the rude manual labour of all mankind during the same period. Let it

not be supposed that we wish to depreciate manual labour. We only wish

to show that labour is incomparably more prolific when directed by

science. Mahomet Bey, the ruler of Tunis, was dethroned by his subjects.

He had the reputation of possessing the philosopher's stone, or the art

of turning common metals into gold. The Dey of Algiers restored him to

his throne upon condition that the secret should be communicated to him.

Mahomet, with great pomp and solemnity, sent the Dey of Algiers a

plough. This was so far well. He intimated that to compel production by

labour is to make a nation rich. But had he been able to transmit some

of the science which now controls and guides the operations of the

plough--the chemical knowledge which teaches the proper application of

manures to soils--the rotation of crops introduced by the

turnip-husbandry, which renders it unnecessary that the ground should

ever be idle,--he would have gone farther towards communicating the real

philosopher's stone.

The indirect influence, too, of a general advance in knowledge upon the

particular advance of any branch of labour, is undeniable;--for the

inquiring spirit of an age spreads itself on all sides, and improvement

is carried into the most obscure recesses, the darkest chinks and

corners of a nation. It has been wisely and beautifully said, "We cannot

reasonably expect that a piece of woollen cloth will be wrought to

perfection in a nation which is ignorant of astronomy, or where ethics

are neglected."[25] The positive influence of science in the direction

of labour is chiefly exhibited in the operations of mechanics and

chemistry applied to the arts, in the shape of machines for saving

materials and labour, and of processes for attaining the same economy.

We have described the effects of some of these manifold inventions in

the improvement of the condition both of producers and consumers. But

there are many particulars in which knowledge has laboured, and is still

labouring, for the advance of the physical and moral condition of us

all, which may have escaped attention; because these labours operate

remotely and indirectly, though not without the highest ultimate

certainty and efficiency, in aiding the great business of production.

These are the influences of science upon labour, not so direct as the

mechanical skill which has contrived the steam-engine, or so indirect as

the operation of ethics upon the manufacture of a piece of woollen

cloth; but which confer a certain and in some instances enormous benefit

upon production, by the operation of causes which, upon a superficial

view, appear to be only matters of laborious but unprofitable

speculation. If we succeed in pointing out the extent and importance of

those aids which production derives from the labours of men, who have

not been ordinarily classed amongst "working men," but who have been

truly the hardest and most profitable workers which society has ever

possessed, we shall show what an intimate union subsists amongst those

classes of society who appear the most separated, and that these men

really labour with all others most effectually in the advancement of the

great interests of mankind.

[Illustration: Harrison.]

When Hume thought that a nation would be behind in the manufacture of

cloth that had not studied astronomy, he perhaps did not mean to go the

length of saying, that the study of astronomy has a real influence in

making cloth cheaper, in lessening the cost of production, and in

therefore increasing the number of consumers. But look at the direct

influence of astronomy upon navigation. A seaman, by the guidance of

principles laid down by the great minds that have directed their

mathematical powers to the study of astronomy--such minds as those of

Newton and La Place--measures the moon's apparent distance from a

particular star. He turns to a page in the 'Nautical Almanac,' and, by a

calculation directed principally by this table, can determine whereabout

he is upon the broad ocean, although he may not have seen land for three

months. Sir John Herschel, who unites to the greatest scientific

reputation the rare desire to make the vast possessions of the world of

science accessible to all, has given, in his 'Discourse on the Study of

Natural Philosophy,' an instance of the accuracy of such lunar

observations, in an account of a voyage of eight thousand miles, by

Captain Basil Hall, who, without a single landmark during eighty-nine

days, ran his ship into the harbour of Rio as accurately, and with as

little deviation, as a coachman drives his stage into an inn-yard. But

navigation not only depends upon lunar distances, but upon an instrument

which shall keep perfect time under every change of temperature produced

by variety of climate. That instrument is a chronometer. Every one who

possesses a watch, however good, must have experienced the effects of

heat or cold upon its accuracy, in making it go faster or

slower--perhaps a minute in a week. Now if there were not an instrument

that would measure time so exactly that between London and New York not

a minute, or large fraction of a minute, would be lost or gained, the

voyage would be one of difficulty and uncertainty. A Yorkshire joiner,

John Harrison, at the beginning of the last century, found out the

principle of the chronometer, which consists in the union in the

balance-spring of two metals, one which contracts under increased

temperature, and one which expands; and on the contrary under diminished

temperature. Harrison worked for fifty years at his discovery; and he

obtained a parliamentary reward of 20,000_l._

[Illustration: Greenwich Observatory.]

The English chronometers are set by what is called Greenwich time. At

the Greenwich Observatory a ball falls from a staff exactly at one

o'clock; and by the application of electricity, a similar ball falls at

the same instant at Charing Cross. The beautiful instruments that are

constantly at work, and the laborious calculations which are daily

proceeding, at the Observatory, are essentially necessary for the

maintenance of a commerce that embraces the whole habitable globe.

But what has this, it may be said, to do with the price of clothing?

Exactly this: part of the price arises from the cost of transport. If

there were no "lunar distances" in the 'Nautical Almanac,' or

chronometers, the voyage from New York to Liverpool might require three

months instead of a fortnight. But go a step farther back in the

influence of science upon navigation. There was a time when ships could

hardly venture to leave the shore. In the days of our Anglo-Saxon

ancestors, a merchant who went three times over sea with his own craft,

was entitled to rank as a thegn, or nobleman. Long after this early

period of England's navigation, voyages across the Atlantic could never

have been attempted. That was before the invention of the mariner's

compass; but even after that invention, when astronomy was not

scientifically applied to navigation, long voyages were considered in

the highest degree dangerous. The crews both of Vasco de Gama, who

discovered the passage to India, and of Columbus, principally consisted

of criminals, who were pardoned on condition of undertaking a service of

such peril. The discovery of magnetism, however, changed the whole

principle of navigation, and raised seamanship to a science. If the

mariner's compass had not been invented, America could never have been

discovered; and if America, and the passage to India by the Cape of Good

Hope, had never been discovered, cotton would never have been brought to

England; and if cotton had never been brought to England, we should have

been as badly off for clothing as the people of the middle ages, and the

million of working men and women, manufacturers of cotton, and dealers

in cotton goods, would have been without employment.

Astronomy, therefore, and navigation, both sciences the results of long

ages of patient inquiry, have opened a communication between the

uttermost ends of the earth; and therefore have had a slow, but certain

effect upon the production of wealth, and the consequent diffusion of

all the necessaries, comforts, and conveniences of civilized life. The

connexion between manufactures and science, practical commerce and

abstract speculation, is so intimate that it might be traced in a

thousand striking instances. Columbus, the discoverer of America,

satisfied his mind that the earth was round; and when he had got this

abstract idea firmly in his head, he next became satisfied that he

should find a new continent by sailing in a westerly course. The

abstract notion which filled the mind of Columbus that the earth was a

sphere, ultimately changed the condition of every living being in the

Old World that then existed, or has since existed. In the year 1488, the

first geographical maps and charts that had been seen in England were

brought hither by the brother of Christopher Columbus. If these maps had

not been constructed by the unceasing labours of men in their closets,

Columbus would never have thought of discovering "the unknown land"

which occupied his whole soul. If the scanty knowledge of geography

which existed in the time of Columbus had not received immense additions

from the subsequent labours of other students of geography, England

would not have twenty-seven thousand merchant ships ready to trade

wherever men have anything to exchange,--that is, wherever men are

enabled to give of their abundance for our abundance, each being

immensely benefited by the intercourse. A map now appears a common

thing, but it is impossible to overrate the extent of the accumulated

observations that go to make up a map. An almanac seems a common thing,

but it is impossible to overrate the prodigious accumulations of science

that go to make up an almanac. With these accumulations, it is now no

very difficult matter to construct a map or an almanac. But if society

could be deprived of the accumulations, and we had to re-create and

remodel everything for the formation of our map and our almanac, it

would perhaps require many centuries before these accumulations could be

built up again; and all the arts of life would go backward, for want of

the guidance of the principles of which the map and the almanac are the

interpreters for popular use.

[Illustration: Linnaeus in his Lapland dress.]

There never was a time when man had so complete possession of the planet

which he inhabits as the present. Much of the globe has yet to be

explored; but how much is familiar to us that was comparatively unknown

even at the beginning of the present century. How thoroughly during that

period have we acclimated many of the plants of distant lands, which are

now the common beauties of our gardens and greenhouses. There are

thousands of timber-trees coming to rapid maturity in our parks and

pleasure-grounds which thirty years ago grew only in the solitudes of

California and Australia. One enterprising man, James Douglas, whose

father was a working mason at Scone, bestowed upon this country, about

twenty-five years ago, two hundred new species of plants which are now

of common culture, and he gave us a tree of the pine-tribe, called after

his name, which will in all probability become one of the most valuable

of our timbers, from its strength, its rapid growth, and its enormous

size. What impelled James Douglas, and hundreds of other travellers of a

similar character, to encounter the perils of travel in desert regions,

but the abstract love of science, which made them naturalists in their

closets before they were explorers and discoverers? We are familiar with

the name of Linnaeus, and the Linnean system of botany; and some may

think that this great naturalist was not doing much for knowledge when

he classified and arranged what we call the vegetable kingdom. When very

young, Linnaeus underwent many hardships in travelling through Lapland,

in search of plants. So far, some may say, he was well employed. He was

equally well employed when he made such an inventory, to use a familiar

term, of all the known plants of his time, as would enable succeeding

naturalists to know a distinct species from an accidental variety, and

to give a precision to all future botanical investigation. Other

naturalists have produced other systems, which may be more simple and

convenient; but the impulse which Linnaeus gave to botanical discovery,

and thence to the increase of the vegetable wealth of Europe, can never

be too highly appreciated.

In every branch of natural history the study of the science, in its

manifold forms of classification, is constantly leading to the most

valuable discoveries connected with our means of existence. Some twenty

years ago all the timber of the Hartz Forest in Germany was destroyed by

a species of beetle, which, gnawing completely round the bark, prevented

the sap from rising. This destructive animal made its appearance in

England; and science very soon discovered the cause of the evil, and

provided for its removal. If there had been no knowledge of natural

history here, not a tree would have been left in our woods: and what

then would have been the cost of timber. The naturalist is now carrying

his investigations, with the aid of the microscope, into the lowest

departments of animal life. He finds the causes of blight and mildew,

and knows the species of the minutest insect that mars the hopes of the

farmer and the gardener. The chemist steps in; and the ravager is

destroyed or rendered less noxious.

It is to the scientific travellers that we owe the successive

introduction of new materials of manufactures. Of the enormous extent in

which such new materials affect production, we may form some adequate

notion from the mention of three--India-rubber, Gutta Percha, and

Palm-oil.

In 1853 we imported 1,940,000 lbs. of caoutchouc or India-rubber. The

gum of a Brazilian-tree, discovered by some scientific Frenchman in

1735, had been employed for nearly a century for no higher purpose than

rubbing out pencil-marks. After 1820 the mode of applying the substance

for the production of water-proof garments was discovered. But even in

1830 we only imported 50,000 lbs. Since then caoutchouc has become one

of our great materials of manufacture, applied, not only to clothing,

but to useful articles of every description. Its great property of

elasticity has rendered it available in numberless instances beyond

those of making cloth water-proof and air-tight. When we discovered how

to make India-rubber soluble by spirit, we obtained our water-proof

clothes, our air-cushions, and water-beds. When machinery drew out the

lump of gum into the finest threads, and connected them with cotton,

flax, silk, or worsted, in a braiding-machine, we became provided with

every species of elastic web that can render dress at once tight and

easy. But chemistry has carried the use of India-rubber further than the

spirit which dissolves it, or the machinery which splits it into minute

threads. Chemistry has combined it with sulphur, and thus added in a

remarkable degree to its strength and its elasticity. It has made it

independent of temperature. It has doubled its utility. "Vulcanized

India-rubber" is one of the most valuable of recent inventions.

It is a striking characteristic of our age, and particularly as compared

with the period when India-rubber was first sent to Europe, that the

application of gutta percha to the arts immediately followed the

discovery of the substance. In 1842, Dr. Montgomerie was observing a

wood-cutter at Singapore at his ordinary labour. Looking at the man's

axe he saw that the handle was not of wood, but of some material that he

had not previously known. The woodman told Dr. Montgomerie that, hard as

the handle was, it became quite soft in boiling water, and could be

moulded into any form, when it would again become hard. It was a gum

from a tree growing in various islands of the Eastern archipelago,

called _pertsha_. Specimens were immediately sent to the Society of

Arts; and the inquiring surgeon to the Presidency at Singapore received

the Society's gold-medal. In 1842-3, Mr. Lobb, visiting these islands to

collect botanical specimens, also discovered the same tree, and the gum

which issues from it.

In twelve years the wonderful utility of this new material has been

established in very various applications. But the gum would have

remained comparatively useless but for the inventive spirit which has

subdued every difficulty of a new manufacture. The substance is now

applied to the humblest as well as the highest purposes. It is a

clothes' line defying the weather; it is a buffer for a railway

carriage. It is a stopping for a hollow tooth; it is a sheathing for the

wire that conveys the electric spark across the Channel. It is a

cricket-ball; it is a life-boat in the Arctic seas. It is a noiseless

curtain-ring; it is a sanitary water-pipe. It resists the action of many

chemical substances, and is thus largely employed for vessels in

bleaching and dyeing factories; it is capable of being moulded into the

most beautiful forms, and thus becomes one of the most efficient

materials for multiplying works of ornamental art. The collection of

gutta percha has given a new stimulus to the feeble industry of the

inhabitants of Java and Sumatra, and Borneo, and a new direction to the

commerce of Singapore. It has brought the people of the Indian

archipelago into more direct contact with European civilization.

[Illustration: Elaeis Guineensis, and Cocos butyracea, yielding

Palm-oil.]

What the use of gutta percha is doing for the Malays, the use of

palm-oil is doing for the Africans. A great commerce has sprung up on

the African coasts, in which statesmen and philanthropists see the

coming destruction of the slave-trade. In 1853 we imported seventy-one

million lbs. of palm-oil and eighteen million lbs. of cocoa-nut oil. The

greater part of this oil is for making candles. It is equal to

three-fourths of all the tallow we import. What has created this

enormous manufacture of one of the most improved articles of domestic

utility? Knowledge. The palm-oil candles have been brought to their

present perfection by chemical and mechanical appliances, working with

the most complete division of labour, carried through by the nicest

economy resulting from great administrative skill. 'Price's Candle

Company' is a factory, or rather a number of factories, in which, in

the exact proportion that the health, the comfort, and the intelligence

of the workers is maintained in the highest efficiency, the profits of

the capitalist are increased. The superior quality of the products of

the oil-candle factories is the result of chemistry. A French chemist

discovered that fats, such as oil, were composed of three inflammable

acids--two of which, called stearic and margaric, are solid; and one

called oleic, fluid. Another substance called glycerine is also present.

The oil is now freed from the oleic acid and the glycerine, which

interfere with its power of producing light, and the two solid acids are

crystalized. What are called stearine and composite candles are thus

produced, at a cost which is really less than that of the old

tallow-candles, when we consider that they burn longer and with greater

brilliancy, besides being freed from a disagreeable smell and from a

tendency to gutter. Candles from animal fat have also been greatly

improved by chemical appliances in the preparation of the tallow.

Science, we thus see, connects distant regions, and renders the world

one great commercial market. Science is, therefore, a chief instrument

in the production of commercial wealth. But we have a world beneath our

feet which science has only just now begun to explore. We want fuel and

metallic ore to be raised from the bowels of the earth; and, till within

a very few years, we used to dig at random when we desired to dig a

mine, or confided the outlay of thousands of pounds to be used in

digging, to some quack whose pretensions to knowledge were even more

deceptive than a reliance upon chance. The science of geology, almost

within the last quarter of a century, has been able, upon certain

principles, to determine where coal especially can be found, by knowing

in what strata of earth coal is formed; and thus the expense of digging

through earth to search for coal, when science would, at once pronounce

that no coal was there, has been altogether withdrawn from the amount of

capital to be expended in the raising of coal. That this saving has not

been small, we may know from the fact, that eighty thousand pounds were

expended fruitlessly in digging for coal at Bexhill, in Sussex, not many

years ago, which expense geology would have instantly prevented; and

have thus accumulated capital, and given a profitable stimulus to

labour, by saving their waste. But geological science has not only

prevented the expensive search for coal where it does not exist, but has

shown that it does exist where, a few years ago, it was held impossible

to find it. The practical men, as they are called, maintained that coal

could not be found beneath the magnesian limestone. A scientific

geologist, Dr. William Smith, held a contrary opinion; and the result of

his abstract conviction is, that the great Hetton collieries have been

called into action, which supply a vast amount of coal to the London

market, found beneath this dreaded barrier of magnesian limestone.

Geology--however scanty its facts at present are, compared with what

they will be when miners have been accustomed to look at their

operations from the scientific point of view--geology can tell pretty

accurately in which strata of the earth the various metals are likely to

be found; and knowing, to some extent, the strata of different

countries, can judge of the probability of finding the precious metals

as well as the more common. Sir Roderick Murchison, in 1844, expressed

his belief, in a public address, that gold existed in the great Eastern

Chain of Australia. In 1849, an iron-worker in Australia, reading this

opinion, searched for gold, and found it. The discovery was neglected,

till an enterprising man came from California, and completed the

realization of the scientific prediction. The gold-diggings of Australia

are producing, by their attraction to emigrants, changes in the amount

and value of labour in the United Kingdom, which may materially affect

the condition of every worker in the parent-land; and they have given an

immense impulse to our home industry. The importance of gold, merely as

a material of manufacture, may be estimated from the fact that in

Birmingham alone a thousand ounces of fine gold are worked up every

week; and that ten thousand ounces are annually used in the porcelain

works of Staffordshire.

Whatever diminishes the risk to life or health, in any mechanical

operation, or any exertion of bodily labour, lessens the cost of

production, by diminishing the premium which is charged by the producers

to cover the risk. The safety-lamp of Sir Humphry Davy, by diminishing

the waste of human life employed in raising coals, diminished the price

of coals. The contrivance is a very simple one, though it was no doubt

the result of anxious and patient thought. It is a common oil-lamp, in

which the flame is surrounded with a fine wire-gauze. The flame cannot

pass through the gauze; and thus if the destructive gas of a coal-mine

enters the gauze and ignites, the flame cannot pass again out of the

gauze, and ignite the surrounding gas. Sometimes the inner flame burns

with a terrible blue light. It is the symptom of danger. If the lamp

were an open flame the fire-damp would shake the pit with one dreadful

explosion. The safety-lamp yields a feeble light; and thus,

unfortunately, the miner sometimes exposes the flame, and perishes. The

magnetic mask, which prevents iron-filings escaping down the throats of

grinders and polishers, and thus prevents the consumption of the lungs,

to which these trades are peculiarly obnoxious, would diminish the price

of steel goods, if the workmen did not prefer receiving the premium in

the shape of higher wages, to the health and long life which they would

get, without the premium, by the use of the mask. This is not wisdom on

the part of the workmen. But whether they are wise or not, the natural

and inevitable influence of the discovery, sooner or later, to lessen

the cost of production in that trade, by lessening the risk of the

labourers, must be established. The lightning conductor of Franklin,

which is used very generally on the Continent, and almost universally in

shipping, diminishes the risk of property, in the same way that the

safety-lamp diminishes the risk of life; and, by this diminution, the

rate of insurance is lessened, and the cost of production therefore

lessened.

[Illustration: Franklin medal.]

We have given many examples of labour-saving processes produced by

science. We may regard it as a compensating principle that science is

constantly raising up new employments. In 1798, Galvani, an Italian

physician, accidentally discovered that the muscles of a dead frog were

convulsed by the body coming in contact with two metals. Soon after,

Volta, another Italian physician, produced electric currents by a

combination of metals in what was called the voltaic-pile. Who could

have imagined that the patient working-out of the scientific principle

that was evolved in the movement of Galvani's dead frog, should have

raised up new branches of human industry, of the most extensive and

varied utility? Galvanic batteries used to be considered amongst the

toys of science. They now send an instantaneous message from London to

Paris; and fill our houses with the most beautiful articles of metallic

manufacture, electro-plate. About sixteen years ago it was discovered

that a piece of metal might receive a fine permanent coating of another

metal by the agency of galvanism. The discovery created a strong

interest in men of science, and many small experiments were tried to fix

a coating of copper to some other metal. Manufacturing enterprize saw

the value of the discovery; which has been simply described in a popular

work:--

"Diluted sulphuric acid is poured into a porous vessel; this is placed

in a larger vessel containing a solution of sulphate of copper; a piece

of zinc is placed in the former, and a piece of silver or of copper in

the latter, and both pieces are connected by a wire. Then does the

wondrous agent, electricity, begin its work; a current sets in from the

zinc to the acid, thence through the porous vessel to the sulphate,

thence to the silver or copper, and thence to the conducting wire back

again to the zinc; and so on in an endless circuit. But electricity

never makes such a circuit without disturbing the chemical relations of

the bodies through which it passes; the zinc, the silver or copper, the

sulphuric acid, the oxygen, and the hydrogen--all are so far affected

that the zinc becomes eaten away, while a beautiful deposit of metallic

copper, derived from the decomposition of the sulphate, appears on the

surface of the silver or copper. Copper is not the only metal which can

be thus precipitated; gold, silver, platinum, and other metals may be

similarly treated."[26]

[Illustration: Electro-gilding.]

When experiment had proved that every imaginable form of cheap metal

could be coated with silver or gold, by the agency of electro-chemistry,

an immediate demand was created for designers, modellers, and moulders.

Vases of the most beautiful forms were to be produced in metal which

should have the properties of solid silver without its costliness. The

common metal vase is dipped into a tank containing a solution of silver.

It is placed in connection with the wires of the galvanic battery. Atom

after atom of the silver in solution clings to the vase, which soon

comes out perfectly silvered. The burnisher completes its beauty. It is

the same with a solution of gold. The pride of riches may boast the

value of the solid plate, which tempts thieves to "break in and steal."

The nobler gratification of taste may secure the beauty without the

expense or risk of loss.

But the great principle thus brought into practical use is carried

farther in the realms of art. It becomes a copying process. It can

multiply copies of the most minute engraving without in the slightest

degree deteriorating the beauty of the engraver's work. The copy is as

good as the original.

The same principle of depositing one metal upon another in minute atoms

has produced galvanized tinned-iron--iron which will not rust upon

exposure to weather, and thus applicable to many purposes of

building--and iron which can be applied to many objects of utility with

greater advantage than tin-plate.

There are few houses now without their daguerreotype portraits of some

member of the family. This is a portrait copied from the human face by a

sunbeam. The name daguerreotype is derived from the Frenchman Daguerre,

who announced his discovery at the time when our countryman, Mr. Fox

Talbot, was engaged in working out the same wonderful problem. We notice

this branch of recent invention merely to point out how science and art

call forth mechanical labour. When every house has its little portrait,

there will naturally be a great demand for frames. The manufacture of

daguerreotype-frames, both here, and in the United States, has furnished

a new field of employment.

Every scientific discovery, such as photography, is a step in advance of

preceding discovery. If Newton had not discovered the fundamental

properties of light, in the seventeenth century, we should, in all

likelihood, have had no photography in the nineteenth. Abstract science

is the parent of practical art.

[Illustration: Newton.]

It has been said by an American writer, who has published several

treatises well-calculated to give the workman an elevated idea of his

rights and duties, that the "man who will go into a cotton-mill,--who

will observe the parts of the machinery, and the various processes of

the fabric, till he reaches the hydraulic press, with which it is made

into a bale, and the canal or railroad by which it is sent to market,

may find every branch of trade, and every department of science,

literally crossed, intertwined, interwoven with every other, like the

woof and the warp of the article manufactured."[27] This crossing and

intertwining of the abstract and practical sciences, the mechanic skill

and the manual labour, which are so striking in the manufacture of a

piece of calico, prevail throughout every department of industry in a

highly-civilized community. Every one who labours at all profitably

labours for the production of utility, and sets in motion the labour of

others. Look at the labour of the medical profession. In the fourteenth

century, John de Gaddesden treated a son of Edward II. for the small-pox

by wrapping him up in scarlet cloth, and hanging scarlet curtains round

his bed; and, as a remedy for epilepsy, the same physician carried his

patients to church to hear mass. The medical art was so little

understood in those days, that the professors of medicine had made no

impression upon the understanding of the people; and they consequently

trusted not to medicine, but to vain charms, which superstitions the

ignorance of the practitioners themselves kept alive. The surgical

practitioners of Europe, at the beginning of the sixteenth century, put

their unhappy patients to the most dreadful torture by their mode of

treating wounds and broken limbs. When they amputated a leg or an arm

they applied the actual cautery, or red-hot iron, to stop the effusion

of blood. Ambrose Pare, one of the most eminent of the French surgeons

of that period, who accompanied the army to the siege of Turin, in 1536,

thus describes the mode in which he found his surgical brethren dealing

with gun-shot wounds:

[Illustration: Ambrose Pare.]

"I was then very raw and inexperienced, having never seen the treatment

of gun-shot wounds. It is true that I had read in the Treatise of Jean

de Vigo on wounds in general, that those inflicted by fire-arms partake

of a poisonous nature on account of the powder, and that they should be

treated with hot oil of elder, mixed with a little theriacum. Seeing,

therefore, that such an application must needs put the patient to

extreme pain, to assure myself before I should make use of this boiling

oil, I desired to see how it was employed by the other surgeons. I found

their method was to apply it at the first dressing, as hot as possible,

within the wound, with tents and setons; and this I made bold to do

likewise. At length my oil failed me, and I was fain to substitute a

digestive, made of the yolk of eggs, rose-oil, and turpentine. At night

I could not rest in my bed in peace, fearing that I should find the

wounded, in whose cases I had been compelled to abstain from using this

cautery, dead of poison: this apprehension made me rise very early in

the morning to visit them; but beyond all my hopes, I found those to

whom I had applied the digestive, suffering little pain, and their

wounds free from inflammation; and they had been refreshed by sleep in

the night. On the contrary, I found those to whom the aforesaid oil had

been applied, feverish, in great pain; and with swelling and

inflammation round their wounds. I resolved, therefore, that I would

never burn unfortunate sufferers from gun-shot in that cruel manner

again." Francis I., king of France, having a persuasion that, because

the Jews were the most skilful physicians of that day, the virtue was in

the Jew, and not in the science which he professed, sent to Charles V.

of Spain for a Jewish physician; but finding that the man who arrived

had been converted to Christianity, he refused to employ him, thinking

the virtue of healing had therefore departed from him. A statute of

Henry VIII. says, "For as much as the science and cunning of physic and

surgery is daily within this realm exercised by a great multitude of

ignorant persons, of whom the greater part have no insight in the same,

nor in any other kind of learning: some, also, con no letters on the

book, so far forth, that common artificers, as smiths, and weavers, and

women, boldly and accustomably, take upon them great cures, in which

they partly use sorcery and witchcraft, partly apply such medicines to

the disease as be very noxious, and nothing meet, to the high

displeasure of God, great infamy to the faculty, and the grievous damage

and destruction of diverse of the king's people." When such ignorance

prevailed, diseases of the slightest kind must have been very often

fatal; and the power of all men to labour profitably must have been

greatly diminished by the ravages of sickness. These ravages are now

checked by medical science and medical labour.

But even within our own times how greatly has general ignorance retarded

the exertions of medical science to diminish suffering and to reduce the

amount of mortality! The prejudices against vaccination have rendered it

extremely difficult to eradicate small-pox, however certain the result

of the great discovery of Jenner. According to the present law, all

children, born in England and Wales after August 1, 1853, _must_ be

vaccinated at the public expense. Such a law would have been very

difficult of execution twenty years ago. The people had then seen the

scarred faces from small-pox disappearing amongst them. They had learnt

that, at the beginning of this century, vaccination, or the puncture of

the skin with matter originally obtained from the cow, was rooting out

the small-pox, which used to destroy, not more than a hundred years ago,

thirty-six thousand persons annually, in this kingdom. But yet they had

prejudices. No medical man would practise inoculation--a great blessing

in its day--because the disease was thus kept amongst us. But still many

ignorant persons did not avail themselves of the law passed fourteen

years ago, under which their children _might_ be vaccinated at the

public cost. The undoubted testimony of the whole medical profession

proves that vaccination in almost all cases prevents small-pox, and in

all cases mitigates its evil. But that testimony further proves that if

vaccination were universal, small-pox would wholly disappear; and that

is the reason why vaccination is now compulsory.

But we may regard the influences of knowledge upon the direction and

aid of profitable labour, even from a higher point of view. The sciences

and arts cannot be carried forward except in a country where the laws of

God are respected, where justice is upheld; where intellect generally is

cultivated, and taste is diffused. The religious and moral teacher,

therefore, who lifts the mind to a contemplation of the duties of man,

as they are founded upon a belief in the Providence of an all-wise and

all-powerful Creator, is a profitable labourer. The instructor of the

young, who dedicates his time to advancing the formation of right

principles, and the acquirement of sound knowledge, by his pupils, is a

profitable labourer. The writer who applies his understanding to the

discovery and dissemination of moral and political truth, is a

profitable labourer. The interpreter and administrator of the laws, who

upholds the reign of order and security, defending the innocent,

punishing the guilty, and vindicating the rights of all from outrage and

oppression, is a profitable labourer. These labourers, it may be said,

are still direct producers of utility, but that those who address

themselves to the imagination--the poets, the novelists, the painters,

and the musicians--in every polished society, are unprofitable

labourers. One word is sufficient for an answer. These men advance the

general intellect of a country, and they therefore indirectly advance

the production of articles of necessity. We have already shown how the

study of the higher mathematics, upon which astronomy is founded, has an

influence upon the production of a piece of woollen cloth; and we beg

our readers to bear this connection in mind when they hear it said, as

they sometimes may, that an abstract student, or an elegant writer, is

not a producer,--is, in fact, an idler. The most illustrious writers of

every country, the great poets,

"High notions and high passions best describing,"

have, next to the inspirations of religion, lifted mankind, more than

any other class of intellectual workmen, to their noblest pursuits of

knowledge and virtue. Even those who especially devote themselves to

give pleasure and amusement, call into action some of the highest and

purest sources of enjoyment. They lead the mind to seek its recreations

in more ennobling pursuits than those of sensuality; their arts connect

themselves by a thousand associations with all that is beautiful in the

natural world; they are as useful for the promotion of pure and innocent

delight as the flowers that gladden us by their beauty and fragrance by

the side of the corn that nourishes us. An entire community of poets and

artists would be as unprofitable as if an entire country were dedicated

to the cultivation of violets and roses; but the poets and the artists

may, as the roses and the violets, furnish the graces and ornaments of

life, without injury, and indeed with positive benefit, to the classes

who more especially dedicate themselves to what is somewhat exclusively

called the production of utility. The right direction of the talents

which are dedicated to art and literature is all that is required from

those who address themselves to these pursuits. He, therefore, who

beguiles a vacant hour of its tediousness, by some effort of intellect

which captivates the imagination without poisoning the morals,--and he

who by the exercise of his art produces forms of beauty which awaken in

the mind that principle of taste which, more than any other faculty,

requires cultivation,--have each bestowed benefits upon the world which

may be accurately enough measured even by the severe limitations of

political economy;--they are profitable labourers and benefactors of

their species.

The positive influence of the labours of the poet and the artist upon

the advance of other labour might be easily shown. In their productions,

especially, supply goes before demand, and creates demand. It has been

calculated by an American writer, that the number of workmen who have

been set in action--paper-makers, printers, binders--by the writings of

Sir Walter Scott alone, in all countries, would, if gathered together,

form a community that would fill a large town. The Potteries of Etruria,

in Staffordshire, could not have existed unless Mr. Wedgwood had

introduced into our manufacture of china the forms of Grecian art,

bequeathed to us by the taste of two thousand years ago, and thus

created a demand which has furnished profitable labour to thousands.

There are four thousand musical-instrument makers in Great Britain. What

has given their industry its chief impulse? The divine art of Handel,

Mozart, Beethoven, Weber, Rossini, Mendelsohn. If these great composers,

and many others, had not raised music into something higher and more

capable of producing enjoyment than the rude melodies of uncivilized

tribes, there would have been no trade in pianofortes.

[Illustration: Sir Walter Scott. From Sir F. Chantrey's Bust.]

We have entered into these details, principally to show that there are

other and higher producers in society than the mere manual labourers. It

was an ignorant fashion amongst the mental labourers of other days to

despise the class of the physical labourers. They have learnt to know

their value; and there should be a reciprocal knowledge. Both classes

are working-classes. No one can say that the mental labourers are not

workers. They are, we may truly affirm, taken as a class, the hardest

workers in the community. No one ever reached eminence in these pursuits

without unwearied industry: the most eminent have been universally

despisers of ease and sloth, and have felt their highest pleasures in

the absorbing devotion of their entire minds to the duties of their high

calling. They have wooed Knowledge as a mistress that could not be won

without years of unwearied assiduity. The most eminent, too, have been

practical men, despising no inquiry, however trifling it might appear to

common eyes, and shrinking from no occupation, however tedious, as long

as it was connected with their higher duties.

[Illustration: Pianoforte Manufactory.]

There is no higher duty than that of endeavouring so to lead public

opinion, as that the general mind of the community shall be directed to

noble and unselfish ends. The poet, the historian, the essayist, the

novelist, have the responsibility of keeping alive the love of freedom,

the hatred of oppression, the cultivation of Christian charity. There

never was a truly great nation that had a low literature. It is the

glory of our nation that its literature is amongst its best possessions;

and that the general scope and tendency of that literature are

calculated to raise and cherish an enlightened public sentiment.

Whatever be the amount of national wealth--however various the comforts

and luxuries which private riches may command--it is quite certain that

without that courage and intelligence which make a people free and keep

them so, the public and private accumulations are comparatively

worthless. There is a beautiful Eastern story which may better

illustrate this position than any lengthened argument.[28]

[Illustration: Statue of Bacon.]

"It is related that a man of the pilgrims slept a long

sleep, and then awoke, and saw no trace of the other

pilgrims. So he arose and walked on; but he wandered from

the way, and he proceeded until he saw a tent, and an old

woman at its door, and he found by her a dog asleep. He

approached the tent, saluted the old woman, and begged of

her some food; whereupon she said to him, Go to yon

valley, and catch as many serpents as will suffice thee,

that I may broil some of them for thee. The man replied, I

dare not catch serpents, and I never ate them. The old

woman therefore said, I will go with thee, and catch some

of them, and fear thou not. Then she went with him, and

the dog followed her, and she caught as many of the

serpents as would suffice, and proceeded to broil some of

them. The pilgrim could not refrain from eating; for he

feared hunger and emaciation: so he ate of those serpents.

And after this, being thirsty, he demanded of the old

woman some water to drink; and she said to him, Go to the

spring, and drink of it. Accordingly he went to the

spring; but he found its water bitter; yet he could not

refrain from drinking of it, notwithstanding its exceeding

bitterness, on account of the violence of his thirst. He

therefore drank, and then returned to the old woman, and

said to her, I wonder at thee, O thou old woman, and at

thy residing in this place, and thy feeding thyself with

this food, and thy drinking of this water.--How then, said

the old woman, is your country? He answered her, Verily,

in our country are spacious and ample houses, and ripe and

delicious fruits, and abundant sweet waters, and excellent

viands, and fat meats, and numerous sheep, and everything

good, and blessings of which the like exist not save in

the Paradise that God (whose name be exalted!) hath

described to his just servants.--All this, replied the old

woman, I have heard; but tell me, have you any Sultan who

ruleth over you, and oppresseth in his rule while ye are

under his authority; and who, if any one of you committeth

an offence, taketh his wealth, and destroyeth him, and

who, if he desire, turneth you out from your houses, and

eradicateth you utterly? The man answered her, That doth

sometimes happen. And the old woman rejoined, If so, by

Allah, that dainty food and elegant life, and those

delightful comforts, with oppression and tyranny, are

penetrating poison; and our food, with safety, is a

salutary antidote."

[Illustration: Bas-Relief on Gutenberg's Monument: Comparing a printed

Sheet with a Manuscript.]

[24] We have taken this sentence as a motto which may point to the

general scope of this volume.

[25] Hume's Essays.

[26] 'Curiosities of Industry.' By George Dodd.

[27] 'Everett's Working Man's Party.' Printed in the American Library of

Useful Knowledge, 1831.

[28] Note in Mr. Lane's admirable translation of the 'Thousand and One

Nights,' original edition, vol. ii. p. 635.

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