Whitney, thoroughly disheartened, now abandoned the manufacture of cotton gins in disgust, wound up his affairs, and found himself a poor man. In spite of the far-reaching benefits of his invention, he had not realized one dollar above his expenses. He had given millions upon millions of dollars to the cotton-growing States, he had opened the way for the establishment of the vast cotton-spinning interests of his own country and Europe, and yet, after fourteen years of hard labor, he was a poor man, the victim of a wealthy, powerful, and, in his case, a dishonest class, who had robbed him of his rights and of the fortune he had so fairly earned. Truly, “wisdom is better than strength, but the poor man’s wisdom is despised.”
Whitney, however, was not the man to waste his time in repining. He abandoned his efforts to protect his cotton gin because of his conviction that there was not honesty enough in the country to sustain him in his rights, but he did not abandon with it the idea of winning fortune. He promptly turned his genius in another direction, and this time with success.
The fire-arms then in use were heavy, clumsy weapons, and effective only at very short range. He examined the system closely, and quickly designed several important improvements in them, especially in the old-fashioned musket. Although his improved arms were not to be compared with the terribly effective weapons of to-day, they were admitted to be the best then in use. By examining the Springfield musket, which is due almost entirely to his genius, the reader can form an accurate estimate of the service he rendered in this respect. He has the honor of being the inaugurator of the system of progressive improvement in fire-arms, which has gone on steadily and without flagging for now fully sixty years past.