"Is there, then, no spontaneity on the part of those who drive the
driver?"
Here followed an obscure argument upon this subject, which I have thought
it best to omit. The writer resumes:--"After all then it comes to this,
that the difference between the life of a man and that of a machine is
one rather of degree than of kind, though differences in kind are not
wanting. An animal has more provision for emergency than a machine. The
machine is less versatile; its range of action is narrow; its strength
and accuracy in its own sphere are superhuman, but it shows badly in a
dilemma; sometimes when its normal action is disturbed, it will lose its
head, and go from bad to worse like a lunatic in a raging frenzy: but
here, again, we are met by the same consideration as before, namely, that
the machines are still in their infancy; they are mere skeletons without
muscles and flesh.
"For how many emergencies is an oyster adapted? For as many as are
likely to happen to it, and no more. So are the machines; and so is man
himself. The list of casualties that daily occur to man through his want
of adaptability is probably as great as that occurring to the machines;
and every day gives them some greater provision for the unforeseen.
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