or 5 hours of manual work that are necessary for his
existence, will have before him 5 or 6 hours which he will seek to
employ according to his tastes. And these 5 or 6 hours a day will fully
enable him to procure for himself, if he associates with others, all he
wishes for, in addition to the necessaries guaranteed to all.

He will discharge first his task in the field, the factory, and so on,
which he owes to society as his contribution to the general production.
And he will employ the second half of his day, his week, or his year, to
satisfy his artistic or scientific needs, or his hobbies.

Thousands of societies will spring up to gratify every taste and every
possible fancy.

Some, for example, will give their hours of leisure to literature. They
will then form groups comprising authors, compositors, printers,
engravers, draughtsmen, all pursuing a common aim--the propagation of
ideas that are dear to them.

Nowadays an author knows that there is a beast of burden, the worker, to
whom, for the sum of a few shillings a day, he can entrust the printing
of his books; but he hardly cares to know what a printing office is
like. If the compositor suffers from lead-poisoning, and if the child
who sees to the machine dies of anaemia, are there not other poor
wretches to replace them?

But when there will be no more starvelings ready to sell their work for
a pittance, when the exploited worker of to-day will be educated, and
will have his _own_ ideas to put down in black and white and to
communicate to others, then the authors and scientific men will be
compelled to combine among themselves and with the printers, in order to
bring out their prose and their poetry.

So long as men consider fustian and manual labour a mark of inferiority,
it will appear amazing to them to see an author setting up his own book
in type, for has he not a gymnasium or games by way of diversion? But
when the opprobrium connected with manual labor has disappeared, when
all will have to work with their hands, there being no one to do it for
them, then the authors as well as their admirers will soon learn the art
of handling composing-sticks and type; they will know the pleasure of
coming together--all admirers of the work to be printed--to set up the
type, to shape it into pages, to take it in its virginal purity from the
press. These beautiful machines, instruments of torture to the child who
attends on them from morn till night, will be a s