We may naturally pass from these considerations to a most important branch of the great subject of the expenditure of capital for public objects.
The people who live in small villages, or in scattered habitations in the country, have certainly not so many direct benefits from machinery as the inhabitants of towns. They have the articles at a cheap rate which machines produce, but there are not so many machines at work for them as for dense populations. From want of knowledge they may be unable to perceive the connexion between a cheap coat, or a cheap tool, and the machines which make them plentiful, and therefore cheap. But even they, when the saving of labour by a machine is a saving which immediately affects them, are not slow to acknowledge the benefits they derive from that best of economy. The Scriptures allude to the painful condition of the "hewers of wood" and the "drawers of water;" and certainly—in a state of society where there are no machines at all, or very rude machines—to cut down a tree and cleave it into logs, and to raise a bucket from a well, are very laborious occupations, the existence of which, to any extent, amongst a people, would mark them as remaining in a wretched condition. Immediately that the people have the simplest mechanical contrivance, such as the loaded lever, to raise water from a well, which is found represented in Egyptian sculpture, and also in our own Anglo-Saxon drawings, they are advancing to the condition of raising water by machinery. The oriental shadoof is a machine. In our own country, at the present day, there are not many houses, in situations where water is at hand, that have not the windlass, or, what is better, the pump, to raise this great necessary of life from the well. Some cottagers, however, have no such machines, and bitterly do they lament the want of them. We once met an old woman in a country district tottering under the weight of a bucket, which she was labouring to carry up a hill. We asked her how she and her family were off in the world. She replied, that she could do pretty well with them, for they could all work, if it were not for one thing—it was one person's labour to fetch water from the spring; but, said she, if we had a pump handy, we should not have much to complain of. This old woman very wisely had no love of labour for its own sake; she saw no advantage in the labour of one of her family being given for the attainment of a good which she knew might be attained by a very common invention. She wanted a machine to save that labour. Such a machine would have set at liberty a certain quantity of labour which was previously employed unprofitably; in other words, it would have left her or her children more time for more profitable work, and then the family earnings would have been increased.
Ancient Shadoof.
But there is another point of view in which this machine would have benefited the good woman and her family. Water is not only necessary to drink and to prepare food with, but it is necessary for cleanliness, and cleanliness is necessary for health. If there is a scarcity of water, or if it requires a great deal of labour to obtain it, (which comes to the same thing as a scarcity,) the uses of water for cleanliness will be wholly or in part neglected. If the neglect becomes a habit, which it is sure to do, disease, and that of the worst sort, cannot be prevented.
When men gather together in large bodies, and inhabit towns or cities, a plentiful supply of water is the first thing to which they direct their attention. If towns are built in situations where pure water cannot be readily obtained, the inhabitants, and especially the poorer sort, suffer even more misery than results from the want of bread or clothes. In some cities of Spain, for instance, where the people understand very little about machinery, water, at particular periods of the year, is as dear as wine; and the labouring classes are consequently in a most miserable condition. In London, on the contrary, water is so plentiful, that, as it appears from a return of the various water companies, the daily average of water-supply is sixty-two million gallons, being an average of about two hundred and two gallons to each house and other buildings, which amount to three hundred and ten thousand. This seems an enormous supply; but there are reasons for thinking that the quantity ought to be increased, and the arrangements made so perfect, that there should be a perpetual stream of water through the pipes of each house, like that through the arteries from the heart. The condition upon which the present water companies are allowed to continue their functions is, that they shall, before the expiration of another year, provide a larger and a purer supply. Yet, incomplete as these arrangements are, they are wondrous when compared with the water-supply of other times; and it is satisfactory to know that there are very few of our great towns which are not supplied as well as, and many much better than, London. There are very few large places in Great Britain where, by machinery, water is not only delivered to the kitchens and washhouses on the ground-floors, where it is most wanted, but is sent up to the very tops of the houses, to save even the comparatively little labour of fetching it from the bottom. The cost of this greatly varies in particular localities; and in most places the supply is afforded more cheaply than in the metropolis. There are natural difficulties in London, as in other vast cities, which have been chiefly created through the unexampled increase of the people. The sanitary arrangements of our great towns—the supply of water, the drainage—have followed the growth of the population and not preceded it. As the necessity has arisen for such a ministration to the absolute wants of a community, it has inevitably become a system of expedients. We are wiser now when we build upon new ground. We first construct our lines of street, with sewers, and water-pipes, and gas-pipes, and then we build our houses. What a different affair is it to manage these matters effectually when the houses have been previously built with very slight reference to such conditions of social existence!
As long ago as the year 1236, when a great want of water was felt in London, the little springs being blocked up and covered over by buildings, the ruling men of the city caused water to be brought from Tyburn, which was then a distant village, by means of pipes; and they laid a tax upon particular branches of trade to pay the expense of this great blessing to all. In succeeding times more pipes and conduits, that is, more machinery, were established for the same good purpose; and two centuries afterwards, King Henry the Sixth gave his aid to the same sort of works, in granting particular advantages in obtaining lead for making pipes. The reason for this aid to such works was, as the royal decree set forth, that they were "for the common utility and decency of all the city, and for the universal advantage," and a very true reason this was. As this great town more and more increased, more waterworks were found necessary; till at last, in the reign of James the First, which was nearly two hundred years after that of Henry the Sixth, a most ingenious and enterprising man, and a great benefactor to his country, Hugh Myddleton, undertook to bring a river of pure water above thirty-eight miles out of its natural course, for the supply of London. He persevered in this immense undertaking, in spite of every difficulty, till he at last accomplished that great good which he had proposed, of bringing wholesome water to every man's door. At the present time, the New River, which was the work of Hugh Myddleton, supplies more than seventeen millions of gallons of water every day; and though the original projector was ruined, by the undertaking, in consequence of the difficulty which he had in procuring proper support, such is now the general conviction of the advantage which he procured for his fellow-citizens, and so desirous are the people to possess that advantage, that a share in the New River Company, which was at first sold at one hundred pounds, is now worth three thousand pounds.
Before the people of London had water brought to their own doors, and even into their very houses, and into every room of their houses where it is desirable to bring it, they were obliged to send for this great article of life—first, to the few springs which were found in the city and its neighbourhood, and, secondly, to the conduits and fountains, which were imperfect mechanical contrivances for bringing it.