rather injurious than useful. The technologist, the physician, the
teacher, the artist, the author, should, in virtue of their very
callings, it would seem, serve the people. And, what then? Under
the present regime, they can do nothing but harm to the people.

The technologist or the mechanic has to work with capital. Without
capital he is good for nothing. All his acquirements are such that
for their display he requires capital, and the exploitation of the
laboring-man on the largest scale; and--not to mention that he is
trained to live, at the lowest, on from fifteen hundred to two
thousand a year, and that, therefore, he cannot go to the country,
where no one can give him such wages,--he is, by virtue of his very
occupation, unfitted for serving the people. He knows how to
calculate the highest mathematical arch of a bridge, how to
calculate the force and transfer of the motive power, and so on; but
he is confounded by the simplest questions of a peasant: how to
improve a plough or a cart, or how to make irrigating canals. All
this in the conditions of life in which the laboring man finds
himself. Of this, he neither knows nor understands any thing,--
less, indeed, than the very stupidest peasant. Give him workshops,
all sorts of workmen at his desire, an order for a machine from
abroad, and he will get along. But how to devise means of
lightening toil, under the conditions of labor of millions of men,--
this is what he does not and can not know; and because of his
knowledge, his habits, and his demands on life, he is unfitted for
this business.

In a still worse predicament is the physician. His fancied science
is all so arranged, that he only knows how to heal those persons who
do nothing. He requires an incalculable quantity of expensive