and four miles, in four and a half hours, and the passage from Norwich to New York is completed in about eight hours. The passage by the way of Providence and Stonington is accomplished with equal speed.

The same rapidity of communication by rail-road is extended from Boston into New Hampshire; to Portsmouth, by the way of Salem and Newburyport; to Exeter, by the way of Andover; and to Nashua, by the way of Lowell; and each line of road is likely, at no great distance of time, to be still further extended. The Western rail-road is in active operation from Boston to Springfield, on Connecticut river, and will soon be finished to Albany, New York; where it will connect itself with a series of rail-roads, much of which is completed and the remainder nearly so, to Buffalo. So that it is confidently predicted, that, within a very few years, there will be a rapid steam communication, nearly all by rail-roads, between Boston, on the northeastern Atlantic coast, and St. Louis, on the Mississippi river. Almost every other part of the United States is in like manner traversed by rail-roads, either finished or in progress. From New York to Philadelphia, as well as extensively in the interior of Pennsylvania; from Philadelphia to Baltimore and Washington; and from these two cities to Richmond, Virginia, and thence to Charleston, South Carolina, and Savannah, in Georgia and from several of the Atlantic cities to the valley of the Ohio and Mississippi; the same, or nearly the same, facilities for swift and easy communication are found; or are in a state of active preparation. The journey from New Orleans to Boston is now made in about one fourth of the time, and with less than one tenth of the fatigue and risk, that it required only a very few years

ago.

:

Not only are the facilities for travelling, and for the conveyance of information and of merchandise, steadily increasing, by the rapid extension of the roads themselves, but the improvements, which are made in their construction, and in that of the locomotive engines and

cars, add constantly to their speed, as well as to their safety and comfort. Two or three years since, fifteen miles an hour was thought exceedingly rapid travelling ; now, a rate of more than twenty miles an hour is maintained, habitually, on many roads in this country; and on the London and Birmingham rail-road, one hundred and twelve miles, they travel regularly at the rate of twenty-three or twenty-four miles an hour. An express has been carried from Worcester to Boston, forty-five miles, at the rate of thirty miles an hour; and on the Great Western rail-road in England, expresses have been carried at the rate of sixty miles, and it is reported, even at the rate of seventy-eight miles, an hour.

It is not improbable that considerable accelerations will also be made, at no great distance of time, to the speed of steam-boats. Some recent experiments, with Mr. Smith's Archimedean Screw, and with Captain Ericson's Propeller, seem to promise great advantages, both in respect to the speed, and to the safety and faecility of management, of steam-vessels.

CHAPTER XIV.

THE PROGRESS OF THE ARTS.

IN treating of the Arts, we have already made some remarks on the improvements which they have severally undergone, and the influence of these improvements, in augmenting the physical, and even the intellectual, enjoyments of mankind. It would be interesting, to trace these progressive improvements more accurately, from step to step; to show in what manner, and at what times, they arose; and to survey the comparative amount of domestic and personal comfort which has been enjoyed among civilized nations, at different periods of the world. The steps, by which man has thus gradually risen to a dominion over Nature, form one

of the most interesting, and, at the same time, one of the most neglected, subjects of history. Dazzled by the splendor of courts, and by the pomp and perils of war, historians have generally lost sight of the most permanent and powerful causes of human welfare. Their works, too often, have been but scandalous memoirs; memoirs of the crimes and follies of the great, and of the subserviency and degradation of the multitude. With how much more of profit and interest should we peruse them, if they conducted us into the habitations and assemblies of the people; if they made us acquainted with the customs, employments, and mode of life, prevailing there; if, by describing their furniture, implements, and habits of living, they introduced us, as it were, into their presence, and enabled us to estimate their knowledge of the arts. We know, indeed, no literary enterprise, which promises more for its author and the public, than what may be termed a Material History of our race,-a history, which, from the rich materials scattered through the poets and annalists of former ages, should draw a connected picture of civilized life, as that life has been varied, and, from age to age, improved, by the useful arts. Such a work would disclose the powerful influence which these arts exert, not only on the physical, but also on the moral and intellectual well-being of man. It would show, that civilization is the work, not of music or of playing on the flute, as the Athenian hero said, but of that Industry, which turns a small city into a great one. It would bring, also, into broad relief, the agency which Knowledge exerts, in augmenting human power and happiness; and would enable us to contrast our own condition, in these respects, with that of our distant ancestors. It would show how modern civilization has been modified by the industrious orders of society, and would enforce, with new solemnity and emphasis, the momentous truth, that on their intelligence and virtue depend the best interests of mankind. Referring the reader, for some details on this subject, to an article in

the Appendix,* I shall in this place content myself with pointing out what I conceive to be the leading feature of modern, as distinguished from ancient, art, and suggesting some of the consequences, to which the change has given rise.

The leading feature, which has characterized modern improvements in art, especially within the last century, is, the substitution of intelligence for mere physical force; the power of knowledge for the power of muscle. The ancients were comparatively ignorant of the laws of Nature. They knew too little, either of the properties of bodies, or of the laws of motion, to accomplish much by machinery or artificial processes. Hence their reliance was placed mainly upon mere strength. Whatever could be effected by the patient industry of individuals, or by the combined force of multitudes, was effected by them; and accordingly their temples, arches, and military works still stand, unrivalled monuments of munificence and patient toil. But these very works were deficient in many of the conveniences which are possessed by the humblest modern edifices; and were reared by laborers who lived in a style, compared with which, that of the modern laborer is one of splendor and opulence. In modern times, the nature of inanimate forces has been carefully studied. Mechanical contrivances, to adapt them to useful purposes, have been multiplied with astonishing rapidity; and, availing ourselves of these, we now attain our ends, not so much by the mere strength of our bodies, as by the skill and resources of our minds. The ancients, unable to supply the evermultiplying wants of our physical nature, inculcated the necessity of diminishing these wants, and practising a rigid self-denial. The moderns, on the contrary, believing that there is no limit to the powers of the natural world, nor of man's inventive genius, rather invite and create new wants, that they may devise the means of a prompt and cheap supply. In one word,

*See Appendix, VI.

ancient art was the offspring of necessity; grew up from random trials and experiments; confined its operations to a narrow circle; and was encumbered by many absurd and unnecessary details. Modern art, on the other hand, is the offspring of science, and, under its guidance, has sought out the shortest and simplest route to its ends; pushed its labors into every department of the material world; and reduced to something like order the processes in every branch of human industry.

What have been the effects of this change? 1. The first one entitled to notice is, the diminished respect which is every where felt for mere physical power, and the increased regard which is paid to intellect and knowledge. The time was, when individuals were rated very much according to their bodily prowess, and when nations rested their claims to glory and preeminence almost exclusively on the number and hardihood of their soldier-subjects. But in this age, it is far otherwise. Even in war, success is achieved, now, far more by science and skill than by the mere physical force of armies. In the various pursuits of industry, as well as in the learned professions, ascendency is procured entirely by talents and learning. No matter how poor and contemptible in his outward presence, or how deficient in muscular strength, the lawyer or the artist, who excels in the knowledge which pertains to his profession, and in the power of applying that knowledge, promptly and skilfully, to each new occasion as it arises, will most assuredly excel in the acquisition of wealth, fame, and influence. It has been true, in every age of the world, that knowledge is power; but never was this so emphatically true, as at present. In proportion as the human mind is enlightened, it learns its own dignity; discovers the magic influence conferred by science on its possessor; and comes to rate, at something like their real value, those humble attributes which it possesses in common with the brutes.

2. Another effect of this application of science to the