But these evils do not rise directly from the machinery which expedites labour, but from the blind desire of accumulation, the passion for sudden wealth, which that machinery has helped to pamper, and which first the ambition and then the necessities of the state have fostered and flattered. The right use of machinery is to enable men to produce what is necessary and comfortable for the body, at the least possible expense of time, labour, care, thought, and capital, and so far to free every man of every nation from the worky-day business of the world, that the poorest, while he looks forward with assurance to his morrow's meal, may have some leisure for rational enjoyment, mental cultivation, meditation, and devotion; that, whatever ranks, orders, honours, or dignities may subsist, and however the political functions of the commonweal may be distributed, there may be none who toil merely to eat, and eat to toil. Then, and not till then, will Freedom be more than a name. The Earth has lent Her waters, Air her breezes; and the sail Here a large town, continuous and compact, Hiding the face of earth for leagues-and there, The abodes of men irregularly massed Like trees in forests-spread through spacious tracts, Freighted from every climate of the world With the world's choicest produce. Hence that sum Of keels that rest within her crowded ports, That animating spectacle of sails Which through her inland regions, to and fro Hence a dread arm of floating Power, a voice Of Thunder, daunting those who would approach Yet I exult, Casting reserve away, exult to see An Intellectual mastery exercised O'er the blind Elements; a purpose given, Imparted to brute Matter. I rejoice, Measuring the force of those gigantic powers, Which by the thinking Mind have been compelled To serve the Will of feeble-bodied Man. For with the sense of admiration blends The animating hope that time may come When strengthened, yet not dazzled, by the might Men of all lands shall exercise the same In due proportion to their Country's need; All praise, all safety, and all happiness, And the Arts died by which they had been raised. Upon the plain of vanished Syracuse, Amid his calm abstractions, would admit To save themselves from blank forgetfulness! WORDSWORTH'S EXCURSION. |