If our artisan had learnt to analyze phenomena, he would soon get reconciled to Capital, on seeing how much he is indebted to it. He would be convinced, above all, that the gratuitous nature of the gifts of God has been completely preserved, and that these gifts have been lavished on him with a liberality which he owes not to his own merit, but to the beautiful mechanism of the ‹natural› social order. Capital does not consist in the vegetative force which has made cotton germinate and flower, but in the ‹pains taken› by the planter. Capital is not the wind which fills the sails of the ship, or the magnetism which acts upon the needle, but the ‹pains taken› by the sailmaker and the optician. Capital is not the elasticity of steam which turns the spindles of the mill, but the ‹pains taken› by the machine-maker. Vegetation, the power of the winds, magnetism, elasticity,—all these are purely gratuitous; and hence the stockings have so little value. As regards the pains taken by the planter, the sailmaker, the optician, the shipbuilder, the sailor, the manufacturer, the merchant, they are spread—or, rather, so far as capital is concerned, the interest of that capital is spread—over innumerable purchasers of stockings; and this is the reason why the portion of labour given by each of these purchasers is so small. Modern reformers! when I see you desiring to replace this admirable natural order by an arrangement of your own invention, there are two things (although they are in reality one and the same) which confound me,—namely, your want of faith in Providence, and your faith in yourselves—your ignorance, and your presumption. * * * * * It follows from what I have said that the progress of mankind coincides with the rapid creation of Capital; for to say that new capital is formed, is just to say, in other words, that obstacles, formerly onerously combated by labour, are now gratuitously combated by nature; and that, be it observed, not for the profit of the capitalist, but for the profit of the community.