179. Again, all machines—that is to say, all material systems—must necessarily be of two kinds, one of which makes use of the stable forces of nature and the other of the unstable. The following quotation from a work on Energy, by one of the authors of this book, will sufficiently explain what is meant:[54]—
‘When we speak of a structure, or a machine, or a system, we simply mean a number of individual particles associated together in producing some definite result. Thus, the solar system, a timepiece, a rifle, are examples of inanimate machines; while an animal, a human being, an army, are examples of animated structures or machines. Now, such machines or structures are of two kinds, which differ from one another not only in the object sought, but also in the means of attaining that object.
‘In the first place, we have structures or machines in which systematic action is the object aimed at, and in which all the arrangements are of a conservative nature, the element of instability being avoided as much as possible. The solar system, a timepiece, a steam-engine at work, are examples of such machines, and the characteristic of all such is their calculability. Thus the skilled astronomer can tell, with the utmost precision, in what place the moon or the planet Venus will be found this time next year. Or again, the excellence of a timepiece consists in its various hands pointing accurately in a certain direction after a certain interval of time. In like manner we may safely count upon a steamship making so many knots an hour, at least while the outward conditions remain the same. In all these cases we make our calculations, and we are not deceived—the end sought is regularity of action, and the means employed is a stable arrangement of the forces of nature.
‘Now, the characteristics of the other class of machines are precisely the reverse.
‘Here the object aimed at is not a regular, but a sudden and violent, transmutation of energy, while the means employed are unstable arrangements of natural forces. A rifle at full-cock, with a delicate hair-trigger, is a very good instance of such a machine, where the slightest touch from without may bring about the explosion of the gunpowder, and the propulsion of the ball with a very great velocity. Now, such machines are eminently characterised by their incalculability.
‘It is thus apparent that, as regards energy, structures are of two kinds. In one of these, the object sought is regularity of action, and the means employed, a stable arrangement of natural forces; while in the other, the end sought is freedom of action, and a sudden transmutation of energy, the means employed being an unstable arrangement of natural forces.
‘The one set of machines are characterised by their calculability—the other by their incalculability. The one set, when at work, are not easily put wrong, while the other set are characterised by great delicacy of construction.’
180. Having thus defined the two kinds of machines, let us now see to what extent a living being may be regarded as a machine, and also to which of these two categories he belongs.
What our machines enable us to do is merely to transform energy. Our readers are well aware, by what we have already said ([Art. 102]), that it is just as impossible to create energy as it is to create matter.
Thus a clock has to be wound up before it will go; an engine has to be stoked with coal; a rifle or cannon has to be charged with powder; and in short, all machines, whether delicately constructed or not, whether calculable or incalculable, are merely transmuters of energy and not creators of it.