But the machine upon which everybody could calculate, had little chance of fair play from the man on whom nobody could calculate.
If the Chancellor of the Exchequer had read my letter to Lord Derby, he would have found the opinion of the Committee of the Royal Society expressed in these words:—
“They consider the former [the abstract mathematical principle] as not only sufficiently clear in itself, but as already admitted and acted on by the Council in their former proceedings. {110}
“The latter [its public utility] they consider as obvious to every one who considers the immense advantage of accurate numerical tables in all matters of calculation, especially in those which relate to astronomy and navigation.”—Report of the Royal Society, 12th Feb., 1829.
Thus it appears:—
- 1st. That the Chancellor of the Exchequer presumed to set up his own idea of the utility of the Difference Engine in direct opposition to that of the Royal Society.
- 2nd. That he refused to take the opinion of the highest mechanical authority in the country on its probable cost, and even to be informed whether a contract for its construction at a definite sum might not be attainable: he then boldly pronounced the expense to be “utterly incapable of being calculated.”
〈DIFFERENCE ENGINE No. 2. FEELS FOR THE CHANCELLOR OF THE EXCHEQUER.〉
This much-abused Difference Engine is, however, like its prouder relative the Analytical, a being of sensibility, of impulse, and of power.
It can not only calculate the millions the ex-Chancellor of the Exchequer squandered, but it can deal with the smallest quantities; nay, it feels even for zeros.[23] It is as conscious as Lord Derby himself is of the presence of a negative quantity, and it is not beyond the ken of either of them to foresee the existence of impossible ones.[24]
[23] It discovers the roots of equations by feeling whether all the figures in a certain column are zeros.