Father. Do you suppose that men, twenty feet high, will come and lift these stones out of the vessel, and carry them where they are wanted to be used?
John. I don’t think there are any such men now.
Father. What must be done, then?
John. I cannot tell.
Henry. I guess, Papa, what will be done:—I think this great thing with all these chains, and wheels, and winders, is on purpose to lift the stones out of the vessel.
Father. Yes: this is called a crane: perhaps, on some of the wharfs we shall find them using a crane.
Walking a little further, they came to the front of a warehouse, where men were raising hogsheads of tallow by a crane, from a waggon, to an upper story of the building.
Father. There, John, you see is the Giant that can lift blocks of marble or heavy hogsheads: two or three men, who are not six feet high, keep him at work; and he does exactly what they wish to be done. Now, Henry, do you think that twenty of the savages of New Holland, whom you have read of, could raise one of these hogsheads into the warehouse?
Henry. No, Papa: they might roll it along the ground, or carry it a mile, on two long poles; but they could not raise it into the air without some machine or contrivance.
Father. But they could not make a machine without knowledge and ingenuity.