which workmen feel for their employment, in addition to the insufficiency
of their wages. And this is quite conceivable, for nothing is done to
render their labor attractive, either by variety of occupations, or by
honorary rewards, or by proper care, or by remuneration proportionate to
the benefits which their toil provides, or by the hope of rest after long
years of industry. No--the country thinks not, cares not, either for
their wants or their rights.

And yet, to take only one example, machinists and workers in foundries,
exposed to boiler explosions, and the contact of formidable engines, run
every day greater dangers than soldiers in time of war, display rare
practical sagacity, and render to industry--and, consequently, to their
country--the most incontestable service, during a long and honorable
career, if they do not perish by the bursting of a boiler, or have not
their limbs crushed by the iron teeth of a machine.

In this last case, does the workman receive a recompense equal to that
which awaits the soldier's praiseworthy, but sterile courage--a place in
an asylum for invalids? No.

What does the country care about it? And if the master should happen to
be ungrateful, the mutilated workman, incapable of further service, may
die of want in some corner.

Finally, in our pompous festivals of commerce, do we ever assemble any of
the skillful workmen who alone have woven those admirable stuffs, forged
and damascened those shining weapons, chiselled those goblets of gold and
silver, carved the wood and ivory of that costly furniture, and set those
dazzling jewels with such exquisite art? No.