On the Economy of Machinery and Manufactures/Chapter 35

by Charles Babbage

CHAP. XXXV.

ON THE FUTURE PROSPECTS OF MANUFACTURES, AS CONNECTED WITH SCIENCE.

(453.) In reviewing the various processes offered as illustrations of those general principles which it has been the main object of the present volume to support and establish, it is impossible not to perceive that the arts and manufactures of the country are intimately connected with the progress of the severer sciences; and that, as we advance in the career of improvement, every step requires, for its success, that this connexion should be rendered more intimate.

The applied sciences derive their facts from experiment; but the reasonings, on which their chief utility depends, are the province of what is called abstract Science. It has been shown, that the division of labour is no less applicable to mental productions than to those in which material bodies are concerned; and it follows, that the efforts for the improvement of its manufactures which any country can make with the greatest probability of success, must arise from the combined exertions of all those most skilled in the theory, as well as in the practice of the arts; each labouring in that department for which his natural capacity and acquired habits have rendered him most fit.

(454.) The profit arising from the successful application to practice of theoretical principles, will, in most cases, amply reward, in a pecuniary sense, those by whom they are first employed; yet even here, what has been stated with respect to Patents, will prove that there is room for considerable amendment in our legislative enactments: but the discovery of the great principles of nature demands a mind almost exclusively devoted to such investigations; and these, in the present state of science, frequently require costly apparatus, and exact an expense of time quite incompatible with professional avocations. It becomes, therefore, a fit subject for consideration, whether it would not be politic in the state to compensate for some of those privations, to which the cultivators of the higher departments of science are exposed; and the best mode of effecting this compensation, is a question which interests both the philosopher and the statesman. Such considerations appear to have had their just influence in other countries, where the pursuit of Science is regarded as a profession, and where those who are successful in its cultivation are not shut out from almost every object of honourable ambition to which their fellow-countrymen may aspire. Having, however, already expressed some opinion upon these subjects in another publication,^[1] I shall here content myself with referring to that work.

(455.) There was, indeed, in our own country, one single position to which science, when concurring with independent fortune, might aspire, as conferring rank and station, an office deriving, in the estimation of the public, more than half its value from the commanding knowledge of its possessor; and it is extraordinary, that even that solitary dignity—that barony by tenure in the world of British science—the chair of the Royal Society, should have been coveted for adventitious rank. It is more extraordinary, that a Prince, distinguished by the liberal views he has invariably taken of public affairs,—and eminent for his patronage of every institution calculated to alleviate those miseries from which, by his rank, he is himself exempted—who is stated by his friends to be the warm admirer of knowledge, and most anxious for its advancement, should have been so imperfectly informed by those friends, as to have wrested from the head of science, the only civic wreath which could adorn its brow.^[2]

In the meanwhile the President may learn, through the only medium by which his elevated station admits approach, that those evils which were anticipated from his election, have not proved to be imaginary, and that the advantages by some expected to result from it, have not yet become apparent. It may be right also to state, that whilst many of the inconveniences, which have been experienced by the President of the Royal Society, have resulted from the conduct of his own supporters, those who were compelled to differ from him, have subsequently offered no vexatious opposition:—they wait in patience, convinced that the force of truth must ultimately work its certain, though silent course; not doubting that when His Royal Highness is correctly informed, he will himself be amongst the first to be influenced by its power.

(456.) But younger institutions have arisen to supply the deficiencies of the old; and very recently a new combination, differing entirely from the older societies, promises to give additional steadiness to the future march of science. The "British Association for the Advancement of Science," which held its first meeting at York^[3] in the year 1831, would have acted as a powerful ally, even if the Royal Society were all that it might be: but in the present state of that body such an association is almost necessary for the purposes of science. The periodical assemblage of persons, pursuing the same or different branches of knowledge, always produces an excitement which is favourable to the development of new ideas; whilst the long period of repose which succeeds, is advantageous for the prosecution of the reasonings or the experiments then suggested; and the recurrence of the meeting in the succeeding year, will stimulate the activity of the inquirer, by the hope of being then enabled to produce the successful result of his labours. Another advantage is, that such meetings bring together a much larger number of persons actively engaged in science, or placed in positions in which they can contribute to it, than can ever be found at the ordinary meetings of other institutions, even in the most populous capitals; and combined efforts towards any particular object can thus be more easily arranged.

(457.) But perhaps the greatest benefit which will accrue from these assemblies, is the intercourse which they cannot fail to promote between the different classes of society. The man of science will derive practical information from the great manufacturers;—the chemist will be indebted to the same source for substances which exist in such minute quantity, as only to become visible in most extensive operations;—and persons of wealth and property, resident in each neighbourhood visited by these migratory assemblies, will derive greater advantages than either of those classes, from the real instruction they may procure respecting the produce and manufactures of their country, and the enlightened gratification which is ever attendant on the acquisition of knowledge.^[4]

(458.) Thus it may be hoped that public opinion shall be brought to bear upon the world of science; and that by this intercourse light will be thrown upon the characters of men, and the pretender and the charlatan be driven into merited obscurity. Without the action of public opinion, any administration, however anxious to countenance the pursuits of science, and however ready to reward, by wealth or honours, those whom they might think most eminent, would run the risk of acting like the blind man recently couched, who, having no mode of estimating degrees of distance, mistook the nearest and most insignificant for the largest objects in nature: it becomes, therefore, doubly important, that the man of science should mix with the world.

(459.) It is highly probable that in the next generation, the race of scientific men in England will spring from a class of persons altogether different from that which has hitherto scantily supplied them. Requiring, for the success of their pursuits, previous education, leisure, and fortune, few are so likely to unite these essentials as the sons of our wealthy manufacturers, who, having been enriched by their own exertions, in a field connected with science, will be ambitious of having their children distinguished in its ranks. It must, however, be admitted, that this desire in the parents would acquire great additional intensity, if worldly honours occasionally followed successful efforts; and that the country would thus gain for science, talents which are frequently rendered useless by the unsuitable situations in which they are placed.

(460.) The discoverers of Iodine and Brome, two substances hitherto undecompounded, were both amongst the class of manufacturers, one being a maker of saltpetre at Paris, the other a manufacturing chemist at Marseilles; and the inventor of balloons filled with rarefied air, was a paper manufacturer near Lyons. The descendants of Mongolfier, the first aërial traveller, still carry on the establishment of their progenitor, and combine great scientific knowledge with skill in various departments of the arts, to which the different branches of the family have applied themselves.

(461.) Chemical science may, in many instances, be of great importance to the manufacturer, as well as to the merchant. The quantity of Peruvian bark which is imported into Europe is very considerable; but chemistry has recently proved that a large portion of the bark itself is useless. The alkali Quinia which has been extracted from it, possesses all the properties for which the bark is valuable, and only forty ounces of this substance, when in combination with sulphuric acid, can be extracted from a hundred pounds of the bark. In this instance then, with every ton of useful matter, thirty-nine tons of rubbish are transported across the Atlantic.

The greatest part of the sulphate of quinia now used in this country is imported from France, where the low price of the alcohol, by which it is extracted from the bark, renders the process cheap; but it cannot be doubted, that when more settled forms of government shall have given security to capital, and when advancing civilization shall have spread itself over the States of Southern America, the alkaline medicine will be extracted from the woody matter by which its efficacy is impaired, and that it will be exported in its most condensed form.

(462.) The aid of chemistry, in extracting and in concentrating substances used for human food, is of great use in distant voyages, where the space occupied by the stores must be economized with the greatest care. Thus the essential oils supply the voyager with flavour; the concentrated and crystallized vegetable acids preserve his health; and alcohol, when sufficiently diluted, supplies the spirit necessary for his daily consumption.

(463.) When we reflect on the very small number of species of plants, compared with the multitude that are known to exist, which have hitherto been cultivated, and rendered useful to man; and when we apply the same observation to the animal world, and even to the mineral kingdom, the field that natural science opens to our view seems to be indeed unlimited. These productions of nature, varied and innumerable as they are, may each, in some future day, become the basis of extensive manufactures, and give life, employment, and wealth, to millions of human beings. But the crude treasures perpetually exposed before our eyes, contain within them other and more valuable principles. All these, likewise, in their numberless combinations, which ages of labour and research can never exhaust, may be destined to furnish, in perpetual succession, new sources of our wealth and of our happiness. Science and knowledge are subject, in their extension and increase, to laws quite opposite to those which regulate the material world. Unlike the forces of molecular attraction, which cease at sensible distances; or that of gravity, which decreases rapidly with the increasing distance from the point of its origin; the further we advance from the origin of our knowledge, the larger it becomes, and the greater power it bestows upon its cultivators, to add new fields to its dominions. Yet, does this continually and rapidly increasing power, instead of giving us any reason to anticipate the exhaustion of so fertile a field, place us at each advance, on some higher eminence, from which the mind contemplates the past, and feels irresistibly convinced, that the whole, already gained, bears a constantly diminishing ratio to that which is contained within the still more rapidly expanding horizon of our knowledge.

(464.) But, if the knowledge of the chemical and physical properties of the bodies which surround us, as well as our imperfect acquaintance with the less tangible elements, light, electricity, and heat, which mysteriously modify or change their combinations, concur to convince us of the same fact; we must remember that another and a higher science, itself still more boundless, is also advancing with a giant's stride, and having grasped the mightier masses of the universe, and reduced their wanderings to laws, has given to us in its own condensed language, expressions, which are to the past as history, to the future as prophecy. It is the same science which is now preparing its fetters for the minutest atoms that nature has created: already it has nearly chained the ethereal fluid, and bound in one harmonious system all the intricate and splendid phenomena of light. It is the science of calculation,—which becomes continually more necessary at each step of our progress, and which must ultimately govern the whole of the applications of science to the arts of life.

(465.) But perhaps a doubt may arise in the mind, whilst contemplating the continually increasing field of human knowledge, that the weak arm of man may want the physical force required to render that knowledge available. The_experience of the past, has stamped with the indelible character of truth, the maxim, that "Knowledge is power." It not merely gives to its votaries control over the mental faculties of their species, but is itself the generator of physical force. The discovery of the expansive power of steam, its condensation, and the doctrine of latent heat, has already added to the population of this small island, millions of hands. But the source of this power is not without limit, and the coal-mines of the world may ultimately be exhausted. Without adverting to the theory, that new deposites of that mineral are now accumulating under the sea, at the estuaries of some of our larger rivers; without anticipating the application of other fluids requiring a less supply of caloric than water:—we may remark that the sea itself offers a perennial source of power hitherto almost unapplied. The tides, twice in each day, raise a vast mass of water, which might be made available for driving machinery. But supposing heat still to remain necessary, when the exhausted state of our coal-fields renders it expensive: long before that period arrives, other methods will probably have been invented for producing it. In some districts, there are springs of hot water, which have flowed for centuries unchanged in temperature. In many parts of the island of Ischia, by deepening the sources of the hot springs only a few feet, the water boils; and there can be little doubt that, by boring a short distance, steam of high pressure would issue from the orifice.^[5]

In Iceland, the sources of heat are still more plentiful; and their proximity to large masses of ice, seems almost to point out the future destiny of that island. The ice of its glaciers may enable its inhabitants to liquefy the gases with the least expenditure of mechanical force; and the heat of its volcanoes may supply the power necessary for their condensation. Thus, in a future age, power may become the staple commodity of the Icelanders, and of the inhabitants of other volcanic districts;^[6] and possibly the very process by which they will procure this article of exchange for the luxuries of happier climates may, in some measure, tame the tremendous element which occasionally devastates their provinces.

(466.) Perhaps to the sober eye of inductive philosophy, these anticipations of the future may appear too faintly connected with the history of the past. When time shall have revealed the future progress of our race, those laws which are now obscurely indicated, will then become distinctly apparent; and it may possibly be found that the dominion of mind over the material world advances with an ever-accelerating force.

Even now, the imprisoned winds which the earliest poet made the Grecian warrior bear for the protection of his fragile bark; or those which, in more modern times, the Lapland wizards sold to the deluded sailors;—these, the unreal creations of fancy or of fraud, called, at the command of science, from their shadowy existence, obey a holier spell: and the unruly masters of the poet and the seer become the obedient slaves of civilized man.

Nor have the wild imaginings of the satirist been quite unrivalled by the realities of after years: as if in mockery of the College of Laputa, light almost solar has been extracted from the refuse of fish; fire has been sifted by the lamp of Davy; and machinery has been taught arithmetic instead of poetry.

(467.) In whatever light we examine the triumphs and achievements of our species over the creation submitted to its power, we explore new sources of wonder. But if science has called into real existence the visions of the poet—if the accumulating knowledge of ages has blunted the sharpest and distanced the loftiest of the shafts of the satirist, the philosopher has conferred on the moralist an obligation of surpassing weight. In unveiling to him the living miracles which teem in rich exuberance around the minutest atom, as well as throughout the largest masses of ever-active matter, he has placed before him resistless evidence of immeasurable design. Surrounded by every form of animate and inanimate existence, the sun of science has yet penetrated but through the outer fold of Nature's majestic robe; but if the philosopher were required to separate, from amongst those countless evidences of creative power, one being, the masterpiece of its skill; and from that being to select one gift, the choicest of all the attributes of life;—turning within his own breast, and conscious of those powers which have subjugated to his race the external world, and of those higher powers by which he has subjugated to himself that creative faculty which aids his faltering conceptions of a deity,—the humble worshipper at the altar of truth would pronounce that being,—man; that endowment,—human reason.

But however large the interval that separates the lowest from the highest of those sentient beings which inhabit our planet, all the results of observation, enlightened by all the reasonings of the philosopher, combine to render it probable that, in the vast extent of creation, the proudest attribute of our race is but, perchance, the lowest step in the gradation of intellectual existence. For, since every portion of our own material globe, and every animated being it supports, afford, on more scrutinizing inquiry, more perfect evidence of design, it would indeed be most unphilosophical to believe that those sister spheres, obedient to the same law, and glowing with light and heat radiant from the same central source—and that the members of those kindred systems, almost lost in the remoteness of space, and perceptible only from the countless multitude of their congregated globes—should each be no more than a floating chaos of unformed matter;——or, being all the work of the same Almighty architect, that no living eye should be gladdened by their forms of beauty, that no intellectual being should expand its faculties in decyphering their laws.

1. Reflections on the Decline of Science in England, and on some of its Causes. 8vo. 1830. Fellowes
2. The Duke of Sussex was proposed as President of the Royal Society in opposition to the wish of the Council—in opposition to the public declaration of a body of Fellows, comprising the largest portion of those by whose labours the character of English science had been maintained. The aristocracy of rank and of power, aided by such allies as it can always command, set itself in array against the prouder aristocracy of science. Out of about seven hundred members, only two hundred and thirty balloted; and the Duke of Sussex had a majority of eight. Under such circumstances, it was indeed extraordinary, that His Royal Highness should have condescended to accept the fruits of that doubtful and inauspicious victory. The circumstances preceding and attending this singular contest have been most ably detailed in a pamphlet, entitled "A Statement of the Circumstances connected with the late Election for the Presidency of the Royal Society, 1831, printed by R. Taylor, Red-lion-court, Fleet-street." The whole tone of the tract is strikingly contrasted with that of the productions of some of those persons by whom it was His Royal Highness's misfortune to be supported
3. The second meeting took place at Oxford in June 1832, and surpassed even the sanguine anticipations of its friends. The third annual meeting will take place at Cambridge in June 1833.
4. The advantages likely to arise from such an association, have been so clearly stated in the address delivered by the Rev. Mr. Vernon Harcourt, at its first meeting, that I would strongly recommend its perusal by all those who feel interested in the success of English science.—Vide First Report of the British Association for the Advancement of Science. York, 1832.
5. In 1828, the author of these pages visited Ischia, with a committee of the Royal Academy of Naples, deputed to examine the temperature and chemical constitution of the springs in that island. During the few first days, several springs which had been represented in the instructions as under the boiling temperature, were found, on deepening the excavations, to rise to the boiling point.
6. See section 351.

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