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AN INQUIRY INTO THE NATURE AND CAUSES OF THE WEALTH OF NATIONS
THE annual labour of every nation is the fund which
originally supplies it with all the necessaries and conveniences
of life which it annually consumes, and which consist always
either in the immediate produce of that labour, or in what is
purchased with that produce from other nations.
According therefore as this produce, or what is purchased
with it, bears a greater or smaller proportion to the number of
those who are to consume it, the nation will be better or worse
supplied with all the necessaries and conveniences for which it
has occasion.
But this proportion must in every nation be regulated by two
different circumstances; first, by the skill, dexterity, and
judgment with which its labour is generally applied; and,
secondly, by the proportion between the number of those who are
employed in useful labour, and that of those who are not so
employed. Whatever be the soil, climate, or extent of territory
of any particular nation, the abundance or scantiness of its
annual supply must, in that particular situation, depend upon
those two circumstances.
The abundance or scantiness of this supply, too, seems to
depend more upon the former of those two circumstances than upon
the latter. Among the savage nations of hunters and fishers,
every individual who is able to work, is more or less employed in
useful labour, and endeavours to provide, as well as he can, the
necessaries and conveniences of life, for himself, or such of his
family or tribe as are either too old, or too young, or too
infirm to go a hunting and fishing. Such nations, however, are so
miserably poor that, from mere want, they are frequently reduced,
or, at least, think themselves reduced, to the necessity
sometimes of directly destroying, and sometimes of abandoning
their infants, their old people, and those afflicted with
lingering diseases, to perish with hunger, or to be devoured by
wild beasts. Among civilised and thriving nations, on the
contrary, though a great number of people do not labour at all,
many of whom consume the produce of ten times, frequently of a
hundred times more labour than the greater part of those who
work; yet the produce of the whole labour of the society is so
great that all are often abundantly supplied, and a workman, even
of the lowest and poorest order, if he is frugal and industrious,
may enjoy a greater share of the necessaries and conveniences of
life than it is possible for any savage to acquire.
The causes of this improvement, in the productive powers of
labour, and the order, according to which its produce is
naturally distributed among the different ranks and conditions of
men in the society, make the subject of the first book of this
Inquiry.
Whatever be the actual state of the skill, dexterity, and
judgment with which labour is applied in any nation, the
abundance or scantiness of its annual supply must depend, during
the continuance of that state, upon the proportion between the
number of those who are annually employed in useful labour, and
that of those who are not so employed. The number of useful and
productive labourers, it will hereafter appear, is everywhere in
proportion to the quantity of capital stock which is employed in
setting them to work, and to the particular way in which it is so
employed. The second book, therefore, treats of the nature of
capital stock, of the manner in which it is gradually
accumulated, and of the different quantities of labour which it
puts into motion, according to the different ways in which it is
employed.
Nations tolerably well advanced as to skill, dexterity, and
judgment, in the application of labour, have followed very
different plans in the general conduct or direction of it; those
plans have not all been equally favourable to the greatness of
its produce. The policy of some nations has given extraordinary
encouragement to the industry of the country; that of others to
the industry of towns. Scarce any nation has dealt equally and
impartially with every sort of industry. Since the downfall of
the Roman empire, the policy of Europe has been more favourable
to arts, manufactures, and commerce, the industry of towns, than
to agriculture, the industry of the country. The circumstances
which seem to have introduced and established this policy are
explained in the third book.
Though those different plans were, perhaps, first introduced
by the private interests and prejudices of particular orders of
men, without any regard to, or foresight of, their consequences
upon the general welfare of the society; yet they have given
occasion to very different theories of political economy; of
which some magnify the importance of that industry which is
carried on in towns, others of that which is carried on in the
country. Those theories have had a considerable influence, not
only upon the opinions of men of learning, but upon the public
conduct of princes and sovereign states. I have endeavoured, in
the fourth book, to explain, as fully and distinctly as I can,
those different theories, and the principal effects which they
have produced in different ages and nations.
To explain in what has consisted the revenue of the great
body of the people, or what has been the nature of those funds
which, in different ages and nations, have supplied their annual
consumption, is the object of these four first books. The fifth
and last book treats of the revenue of the sovereign, or
commonwealth. In this book I have endeavoured to show, first,
what are the necessary expenses of the sovereign, or
commonwealth; which of those expenses ought to be defrayed by the
general contribution of the whole society; and which of them by
that of some particular part only, or of some particular members
of it: secondly, what are the different methods in which the
whole society may be made to contribute towards defraying the
expenses incumbent on the whole society, and what are the
principal advantages and inconveniences of each of those methods:
and, thirdly and lastly, what are the reasons and causes which
have induced almost all modern governments to mortgage some part
of this revenue, or to contract debts, and what have been the
effects of those debts upon the real wealth, the annual produce
of the land and labour of the society.
BOOK ONE
OF THE CAUSES OF IMPROVEMENT IN THE PRODUCTIVE POWERS. OF LABOUR,
AND OF THE ORDER ACCORDING TO WHICH ITS. PRODUCE IS NATURALLY
DISTRIBUTED AMONG THE DIFFERENT RANKS OF THE PEOPLE.
THE greatest improvement in the productive powers of labour,
and the greater part of the skill, dexterity, and judgment with
which it is anywhere directed, or applied, seem to have been the
effects of the division of labour.
The effects of the division of labour, in the general
business of society, will be more easily understood by
considering in what manner it operates in some particular
manufactures. It is commonly supposed to be carried furthest in
some very trifling ones; not perhaps that it really is carried
further in them than in others of more importance: but in those
trifling manufactures which are destined to supply the small
wants of but a small number of people, the whole number of
workmen must necessarily be small; and those employed in every
different branch of the work can often be collected into the same
workhouse, and placed at once under the view of the spectator. In
those great manufactures, on the contrary, which are destined to
supply the great wants of the great body of the people, every
different branch of the work employs so great a number of workmen
that it is impossible to collect them all into the same
workhouse. We can seldom see more, at one time, than those
employed in one single branch. Though in such manufactures,
therefore, the work may really be divided into a much greater
number of parts than in those of a more trifling nature, the
division is not near so obvious, and has accordingly been much
less observed.
To take an example, therefore, from a very trifling
manufacture; but one in which the division of labour has been
very often taken notice of, the trade of the pin-maker; a workman
not educated to this business (which the division of labour has
rendered a distinct trade), nor acquainted with the use of the
machinery employed in it (to the invention of which the same
division of labour has probably given occasion), could scarce,
perhaps, with his utmost industry, make one pin in a day, and
certainly could not make twenty. But in the way in which this
business is now carried on, not only the whole work is a peculiar
trade, but it is divided into a number of branches, of which the
greater part are likewise peculiar trades. One man draws out the
wire, another straights it, a third cuts it, a fourth points it,
a fifth grinds it at the top for receiving, the head; to make the
head requires two or three distinct operations; to put it on is a
peculiar business, to whiten the pins is another; it is even a
trade by itself to put them into the paper; and the important
business of making a pin is, in this manner, divided into about
eighteen distinct operations, which, in some manufactories, are
all performed by distinct hands, though in others the same man
will sometimes perform two or three of them. I have seen a small
manufactory of this kind where ten men only were employed, and
where some of them consequently performed two or three distinct
operations. But though they were very poor, and therefore but
indifferently accommodated with the necessary machinery, they
could, when they exerted themselves, make among them about twelve
pounds of pins in a day. There are in a pound upwards of four
thousand pins of a middling size. Those ten persons, therefore,
could make among them upwards of forty-eight thousand pins in a
day. Each person, therefore, making a tenth part of forty-eight
thousand pins, might be considered as making four thousand eight
hundred pins in a day. But if they had all wrought separately and
independently, and without any of them having been educated to
this peculiar business, they certainly could not each of them
have made twenty, perhaps not one pin in a day; that is,
certainly, not the two hundred and fortieth, perhaps not the four
thousand eight hundredth part of what they are at present capable
of performing, in consequence of a proper division and
combination of their different operations.
In every other art and manufacture, the effects of the
division of labour are similar to what they are in this very
trifling one; though, in many of them, the labour can neither be
so much subdivided, nor reduced to so great a simplicity of
operation. The division of labour, however, so far as it can be
introduced, occasions, in every art, a proportionable increase of
the productive powers of labour. The separation of different
trades and employments from one another seems to have taken place
in consequence of this advantage. This separation, too, is
generally called furthest in those countries which enjoy the
highest degree of industry and improvement; what is the work of
one man in a rude state of society being generally that of
several in an improved one. In every improved society, the farmer
is generally nothing but a farmer; the manufacturer, nothing but
a manufacturer. The labour, too, which is necessary to produce
any one complete manufacture is almost always divided among a
great number of hands. How many different trades are employed in
each branch of the linen and woollen manufactures from the
growers of the flax and the wool, to the bleachers and smoothers
of the linen, or to the dyers and dressers of the cloth! The
nature of agriculture, indeed, does not admit of so many
subdivisions of labour, nor of so complete a separation of one
business from another, as manufactures. It is impossible to
separate so entirely the business of the grazier from that of the
corn-farmer as the trade of the carpenter is commonly separated
from that of the smith. The spinner is almost always a distinct
person from the weaver; but the ploughman, the harrower, the
sower of the seed, and the reaper of the corn, are often the
same. The occasions for those different sorts of labour returning
with the different seasons of the year, it is impossible that one
man should be constantly employed in any one of them. This
impossibility of making so complete and entire a separation of
all the different branches of labour employed in agriculture is
perhaps the reason why the improvement of the productive powers
of labour in this art does not always keep pace with their
improvement in manufactures. The most opulent nations, indeed,
generally excel all their neighbours in agriculture as well as in
manufactures; but they are commonly more distinguished by their
superiority in the latter than in the former. Their lands are in
general better cultivated, and having more labour and expense
bestowed upon them, produce more in proportion to the extent and
natural fertility of the ground. But this superiority of produce
is seldom much more than in proportion to the superiority of
labour and expense. In agriculture, the labour of the rich
country is not always much more productive than that of the poor;
or, at least, it is never so much more productive as it commonly
is in manufactures. The corn of the rich country, therefore, will
not always, in the same degree of goodness, come cheaper to
market than that of the poor. The corn of Poland, in the same
degree of goodness, is as cheap as that of France,
notwithstanding the superior opulence and improvement of the
latter country. The corn of France is, in the corn provinces,
fully as good, and in most years nearly about the same price with
the corn of England, though, in opulence and improvement, France
is perhaps inferior to England. The corn-lands of England,
however, are better cultivated than those of France, and the
corn-lands of France are said to be much better cultivated than
those of Poland. But though the poor country, notwithstanding the
inferiority of its cultivation, can, in some measure, rival the
rich in the cheapness and goodness of its corn, it can pretend to
no such competition in its manufactures; at least if those
manufactures suit the soil, climate, and situation of the rich
country. The silks of France are better and cheaper than those of
England, because the silk manufacture, at least under the present
high duties upon the importation of raw silk, does not so well
suit the climate of England as that of France. But the hardware
and the coarse woollens of England are beyond all comparison
superior to those of France, and much cheaper too in the same
degree of goodness. In Poland there are said to be scarce any
manufactures of any kind, a few of those coarser household
manufactures excepted, without which no country can well subsist.
This great increase of the quantity of work which, in
consequence of the division of labour, the same number of people
are capable of performing, is owing to three different
circumstances; first, to the increase of dexterity in every
particular workman; secondly, to the saving of the time which is
commonly lost in passing from one species of work to another; and
lastly, to the invention of a great number of machines which
facilitate and abridge labour, and enable one man to do the work
of many.
First, the improvement of the dexterity of the workman
necessarily increases the quantity of the work he can perform;
and the division of labour, by reducing every man's business to
some one simple operation, and by making this operation the sole
employment of his life, necessarily increased very much dexterity
of the workman. A common smith, who, though accustomed to handle
the hammer, has never been used to make nails, if upon some
particular occasion he is obliged to attempt it, will scarce, I
am assured, be able to make above two or three hundred nails in a
day, and those too very bad ones. A smith who has been accustomed
to make nails, but whose sole or principal business has not been
that of a nailer, can seldom with his utmost diligence make more
than eight hundred or a thousand nails in a day. I have seen
several boys under twenty years of age who had never exercised
any other trade but that of making nails, and who, when they
exerted themselves, could make, each of them, upwards of two
thousand three hundred nails in a day. The making of a nail,
however, is by no means one of the simplest operations. The same
person blows the bellows, stirs or mends the fire as there is
occasion, heats the iron, and forges every part of the nail: in
forging the head too he is obliged to change his tools. The
different operations into which the making of a pin, or of a
metal button, is subdivided, are all of them much more simple,
and the dexterity of the person, of whose life it has been the
sole business to perform them, is usually much greater. The
rapidity with which some of the operations of those manufacturers
are performed, exceeds what the human hand could, by those who
had never seen them, be supposed capable of acquiring.
Secondly, the advantage which is gained by saving the time
commonly lost in passing from one sort of work to another is much
greater than we should at first view be apt to imagine it. It is
impossible to pass very quickly from one kind of work to another
that is carried on in a different place and with quite different
tools. A country weaver, who cultivates a small farm, must lose a
good deal of time in passing from his loom to the field, and from
the field to his loom. When the two trades can be carried on in
the same workhouse, the loss of time is no doubt much less. It is
even in this case, however, very considerable. A man commonly
saunters a little in turning his hand from one sort of employment
to another. When he first begins the new work he is seldom very
keen and hearty; his mind, as they say, does not go to it, and
for some time he rather trifles than applies to good purpose. The
habit of sauntering and of indolent careless application, which
is naturally, or rather necessarily acquired by every country
workman who is obliged to change his work and his tools every
half hour, and to apply his hand in twenty different ways almost
every day of his life, renders him almost always slothful and
lazy, and incapable of any vigorous application even on the most
pressing occasions. Independent, therefore, of his deficiency in
point of dexterity, this cause alone must always reduce
considerably the quantity of work which he is capable of
performing.
Thirdly, and lastly, everybody must be sensible how much
labour is facilitated and abridged by the application of proper
machinery. It is unnecessary to give any example. I shall only
observe, therefore, that the invention of all those machines by
which labour is so much facilitated and abridged seems to have
been originally owing to the division of labour. Men are much
more likely to discover easier and readier methods of attaining
any object when the whole attention of their minds is directed
towards that single object than when it is dissipated among a
great variety of things. But in consequence of the division of
labour, the whole of every man's attention comes naturally to be
directed towards some one very simple object. It is naturally to
be expected, therefore, that some one or other of those who are
employed in each particular branch of labour should soon find out
easier and readier methods of performing their own particular
work, wherever the nature of it admits of such improvement. A
great part of the machines made use of in those manufactures in
which labour is most subdivided, were originally the inventions
of common workmen, who, being each of them employed in some very
simple operation, naturally turned their thoughts towards finding
out easier and readier methods of performing it. Whoever has been
much accustomed to visit such manufactures must frequently have
been shown very pretty machines, which were the inventions of
such workmen in order to facilitate and quicken their particular
part of the work. In the first fire-engines, a boy was constantly
employed to open and shut alternately the communication between
the boiler and the cylinder, according as the piston either
ascended or descended. One of those boys, who loved to play with
his companions, observed that, by tying a string from the handle
of the valve which opened this communication to another part of
the machine, the valve would open and shut without his
assistance, and leave him at liberty to divert himself with his
playfellows. One of the greatest improvements that has been made
upon this machine, since it was first invented, was in this
manner the discovery of a boy who wanted to save his own labour.
All the improvements in machinery, however, have by no means
been the inventions of those who had occasion to use the
machines. Many improvements have been made by the ingenuity of
the makers of the machines, when to make them became the business
of a peculiar trade; and some by that of those who are called
philosophers or men of speculation, whose trade it is not to do
anything, but to observe everything; and who, upon that account,
are often capable of combining together the powers of the most
distant and dissimilar objects. In the progress of society,
philosophy or speculation becomes, like every other employment,
the principal or sole trade and occupation of a particular class
of citizens. Like every other employment too, it is subdivided
into a great number of different branches, each of which affords
occupation to a peculiar tribe or class of philosophers; and this
subdivision of employment in philosophy, as well as in every
other business, improves dexterity, and saves time. Each
individual becomes more expert in his own peculiar branch, more
work is done upon the whole, and the quantity of science is
considerably increased by it.
It is the great multiplication of the productions of all the
different arts, in consequence of the division of labour, which
occasions, in a well-governed society, that universal opulence
which extends itself to the lowest ranks of the people. Every
workman has a great quantity of his own work to dispose of beyond
what he himself has occasion for; and every other workman being
exactly in the same situation, he is enabled to exchange a great
quantity of his own goods for a great quantity, or, what comes to
the same thing, for the price of a great quantity of theirs. He
supplies them abundantly with what they have occasion for, and
they accommodate him as amply with what he has occasion for, and
a general plenty diffuses itself through all the different ranks
of the society.
Observe the accommodation of the most common artificer or
day-labourer in a civilised and thriving country, and you will
perceive that the number of people of whose industry a part,
though but a small part, has been employed in procuring him this
accommodation, exceeds all computation. The woollen coat, for
example, which covers the day-labourer, as coarse and rough as it
may appear, is the produce of the joint labour of a great
multitude of workmen. The shepherd, the sorter of the wool, the
wool-comber or carder, the dyer, the scribbler, the spinner, the
weaver, the fuller, the dresser, with many others, must all join
their different arts in order to complete even this homely
production. How many merchants and carriers, besides, must have
been employed in transporting the materials from some of those
workmen to others who often live in a very distant part of the
country! How much commerce and navigation in particular, how many
ship-builders, sailors, sail-makers, rope-makers, must have been
employed in order to bring together the different drugs made use
of by the dyer, which often come from the remotest corners of the
world! What a variety of labour, too, is necessary in order to
produce the tools of the meanest of those workmen! To say nothing
of such complicated machines as the ship of the sailor, the mill
of the fuller, or even the loom of the weaver, let us consider
only what a variety of labour is requisite in order to form that
very simple machine, the shears with which the shepherd clips the
wool. The miner, the builder of the furnace for smelting the ore,
the seller of the timber, the burner of the charcoal to be made
use of in the smelting-house, the brickmaker, the brick-layer,
the workmen who attend the furnace, the mill-wright, the forger,
the smith, must all of them join their different arts in order to
produce them. Were we to examine, in the same manner, all the
different parts of his dress and household furniture, the coarse
linen shirt which he wears next his skin, the shoes which cover
his feet, the bed which he lies on, and all the different parts
which compose it, the kitchen-grate at which he prepares his
victuals, the coals which he makes use of for that purpose, dug
from the bowels of the earth, and brought to him perhaps by a
long sea and a long land carriage, all the other utensils of his
kitchen, all the furniture of his table, the knives and forks,
the earthen or pewter plates upon which he serves up and divides
his victuals, the different hands employed in preparing his bread
and his beer, the glass window which lets in the heat and the
light, and keeps out the wind and the rain, with all the
knowledge and art requisite for preparing that beautiful and
happy invention, without which these northern parts of the world
could scarce have afforded a very comfortable habitation,
together with the tools of all the different workmen employed in
producing those different conveniences; if we examine, I say, all
these things, and consider what a variety of labour is employed
about each of them, we shall be sensible that, without the
assistance and co-operation of many thousands, the very meanest
person in a civilised country could not be provided, even
according to what we very falsely imagine the easy and simple
manner in which he is commonly accommodated. Compared, indeed,
with the more extravagant luxury of the great, his accommodation
must no doubt appear extremely simple and easy; and yet it may be
true, perhaps, that the accommodation of a European prince does
not always so much exceed that of an industrious and frugal
peasant as the accommodation of the latter exceeds that of many
an African king, the absolute master of the lives and liberties
of ten thousand naked savages.
THIS division of labour, from which so many advantages are
derived, is not originally the effect of any human wisdom, which
foresees and intends that general opulence to which it gives
occasion. It is the necessary, though very slow and gradual
consequence of a certain propensity in human nature which has in
view no such extensive utility; the propensity to truck, barter,
and exchange one thing for another.
Whether this propensity be one of those original principles
in human nature of which no further account can be given; or
whether, as seems more probable, it be the necessary consequence
of the faculties of reason and speech, it belongs not to our
present subject to inquire. It is common to all men, and to be
found in no other race of animals, which seem to know neither
this nor any other species of contracts. Two greyhounds, in
running down the same hare, have sometimes the appearance of
acting in some sort of concert. Each turns her towards his
companion, or endeavours to intercept her when his companion
turns her towards himself. This, however, is not the effect of
any contract, but of the accidental concurrence of their passions
in the same object at that particular time. Nobody ever saw a dog
make a fair and deliberate exchange of one bone for another with
another dog. Nobody ever saw one animal by its gestures and
natural cries signify to another, this is mine, that yours; I am
willing to give this for that. When an animal wants to obtain
something either of a man or of another animal, it has no other
means of persuasion but to gain the favour of those whose service
it requires. A puppy fawns upon its dam, and a spaniel endeavours
by a thousand attractions to engage the attention of its master
who is at dinner, when it wants to be fed by him. Man sometimes
uses the same arts with his brethren, and when he has no other
means of engaging them to act according to his inclinations,
endeavours by every servile and fawning attention to obtain their
good will. He has not time, however, to do this upon every
occasion. In civilised society he stands at all times in need of
the cooperation and assistance of great multitudes, while his
whole life is scarce sufficient to gain the friendship of a few
persons. In almost every other race of animals each individual,
when it is grown up to maturity, is entirely independent, and in
its natural state has occasion for the assistance of no other
living creature. But man has almost constant occasion for the
help of his brethren, and it is in vain for him to expect it from
their benevolence only. He will be more likely to prevail if he
can interest their self-love in his favour, and show them that it
is for their own advantage to do for him what he requires of
them. Whoever offers to another a bargain of any kind, proposes
to do this. Give me that which I want, and you shall have this
which you want, is the meaning of every such offer; and it is in
this manner that we obtain from one another the far greater part
of those good offices which we stand in need of. It is not from
the benevolence of the butcher, the brewer, or the baker that we
expect our dinner, but from their regard to their own interest.
We address ourselves, not to their humanity but to their
self-love, and never talk to them of our own necessities but of
their advantages. Nobody but a beggar chooses to depend chiefly
upon the benevolence of his fellow-citizens. Even a beggar does
not depend upon it entirely. The charity of well-disposed people,
indeed, supplies him with the whole fund of his subsistence. But
though this principle ultimately provides him with all the
necessaries of life which he has occasion for, it neither does
nor can provide him with them as he has occasion for them. The
greater part of his occasional wants are supplied in the same
manner as those of other people, by treaty, by barter, and by
purchase. With the money which one man gives him he purchases
food. The old clothes which another bestows upon him he exchanges
for other old clothes which suit him better, or for lodging, or
for food, or for money, with which he can buy either food,
clothes, or lodging, as he has occasion.
As it is by treaty, by barter, and by purchase that we
obtain from one another the greater part of those mutual good
offices which we stand in need of, so it is this same trucking
disposition which originally gives occasion to the division of
labour. In a tribe of hunters or shepherds a particular person
makes bows and arrows, for example, with more readiness and
dexterity than any other. He frequently exchanges them for cattle
or for venison with his companions; and he finds at last that he
can in this manner get more cattle and venison than if he himself
went to the field to catch them. From a regard to his own
interest, therefore, the making of bows and arrows grows to be
his chief business, and he becomes a sort of armourer. Another
excels in making the frames and covers of their little huts or
movable houses. He is accustomed to be of use in this way to his
neighbours, who reward him in the same manner with cattle and
with venison, till at last he finds it his interest to dedicate
himself entirely to this employment, and to become a sort of
house-carpenter. In the same manner a third becomes a smith or a
brazier, a fourth a tanner or dresser of hides or skins, the
principal part of the nothing of savages. And thus the certainty
of being able to exchange all that surplus part of the produce of
his own labour, which is over and above his own consumption, for
such parts of the produce of other men's labour as he may have
occasion for, encourages every man to apply himself to a
particular occupation, and to cultivate and bring to perfection
whatever talent or genius he may possess for that particular
species of business.
The difference of natural talents in different men is, in
reality, much less than we are aware of; and the very different
genius which appears to distinguish men of different professions,
when grown up to maturity, is not upon many occasions so much the
cause as the effect of the division of labour. The difference
between the most dissimilar characters, between a philosopher and
a common street porter, for example, seems to arise not so much
from nature as from habit, custom, and education. When they came
into the world, and for the first six or eight years of their
existence, they were perhaps very much alike, and neither their
parents nor playfellows could perceive any remarkable difference.
About that age, or soon after, they come to be employed in very
different occupations. The difference of talents comes then to be
taken notice of, and widens by degrees, till at last the vanity
of the philosopher is willing to acknowledge scarce any
resemblance. But without the disposition to truck, barter, and
exchange, every man must have procured to himself every necessary
and conveniency of life which he wanted. All must have had the
same duties to perform, and the same work to do, and there could
have been no such difference of employment as could alone give
occasion to any great difference of talents.
As it is this disposition which forms that difference of
talents, so remarkable among men of different professions, so it
is this same disposition which renders that difference useful.
Many tribes of animals acknowledged to be all of the same species
derive from nature a much more remarkable distinction of genius,
than what, antecedent to custom and education, appears to take
place among men. By nature a philosopher is not in genius and
disposition half so different from a street porter, as a mastiff
is from a greyhound, or a greyhound from a spaniel, or this last
from a shepherd's dog. Those different tribes of animals,
however, though all of the same species, are of scarce any use to
one another. The strength of the mastiff is not, in the least,
supported either by the swiftness of the greyhound, or by the
sagacity of the spaniel, or by the docility of the shepherd's
dog. The effects of those different geniuses and talents, for
want of the power or disposition to barter and exchange, cannot
be brought into a common stock, and do not in the least
contribute to the better accommodation ind conveniency of the
species. Each animal is still obliged to support and defend
itself, separately and independently, and derives no sort of
advantage from that variety of talents with which nature has
distinguished its fellows. Among men, on the contrary, the most
dissimilar geniuses are of use to one another; the different
produces of their respective talents, by the general disposition
to truck, barter, and exchange, being brought, as it were, into a
common stock, where every man may purchase whatever part of the
produce of other men's talents he has occasion for.
AS it is the power of exchanging that gives occasion to the
division of labour, so the extent of this division must always be
limited by the extent of that power, or, in other words, by the
extent of the market. When the market is very small, no person
can have any encouragement to dedicate himself entirely to one
employment, for want of the power to exchange all that surplus
part of the produce of his own labour, which is over and above
his own consumption, for such parts of the produce of other men's
labour as he has occasion for.
There are some sorts of industry, even of the lowest kind,
which can be carried on nowhere but in a great town. A porter,
for example, can find employment and subsistence in no other
place. A village is by much too narrow a sphere for him; even an
ordinary market town is scarce large enough to afford him
constant occupation. In the lone houses and very small villages
which are scattered about in so desert a country as the Highlands
of Scotland, every farmer must be butcher, baker and brewer for
his own family. In such situations we can scarce expect to find
even a smith, a carpenter, or a mason, within less than twenty
miles of another of the same trade. The scattered families that
live at eight or ten miles distance from the nearest of them must
learn to perform themselves a great number of little pieces of
work, for which, in more populous countries, they would call in
the assistance of those workmen. Country workmen are almost
everywhere obliged to apply themselves to all the different
branches of industry that have so much affinity to one another as
to be employed about the same sort of materials. A country
carpenter deals in every sort of work that is made of wood: a
country smith in every sort of work that is made of iron. The
former is not only a carpenter, but a joiner, a cabinet-maker,
and even a carver in wood, as well as a wheel-wright, a
plough-wright, a cart and waggon maker. The employments of the
latter are still more various. It is impossible there should be
such a trade as even that of a nailer in the remote and inland
parts of the Highlands of Scotland. Such a workman at the rate of
a thousand nails a day, and three hundred working days in the
year, will make three hundred thousand nails in the year. But in
such a situation it would be impossible to dispose of one
thousand, that is, of one day's work in the year.
As by means of water-carriage a more extensive market is
opened to every sort of industry than what land-carriage alone
can afford it, so it is upon the sea-coast, and along the banks
of navigable rivers, that industry of every kind naturally begins
to subdivide and improve itself, and it is frequently not till a
long time after that those improvements extend themselves to the
inland parts of the country. A broad-wheeled waggon, attended by
two men, and drawn by eight horses, in about six weeks' time
carries and brings back between London and Edinburgh near four
ton weight of goods. In about the same time a ship navigated by
six or eight men, and sailing between the ports of London and
Leith, frequently carries and brings back two hundred ton weight
of goods. Six or eight men, therefore, by the help of
water-carriage, can carry and bring back in the same time the
same quantity of goods between London and Edinburgh, as fifty
broad-wheeled waggons, attended by a hundred men, and drawn by
four hundred horses. Upon two hundred tons of goods, therefore,
carried by the cheapest land-carriage from London to Edinburgh,
there must be charged the maintenance of a hundred men for three
weeks, and both the maintenance, and, what is nearly equal to the
maintenance, the wear and tear of four hundred horses as well as
of fifty great waggons. Whereas, upon the same quantity of goods
carried by water, there is to be charged only the maintenance of
six or eight men, and the wear and tear of a ship of two hundred
tons burden, together with the value of the superior risk, or the
difference of the insurance between land and water-carriage. Were
there no other communication between those two places, therefore,
but by land-carriage, as no goods could be transported from the
one to the other, except such whose price was very considerable
in proportion to their weight, they could carry on but a small
part of that commerce which at present subsists between them, and
consequently could give but a small part of that encouragement
which they at present mutually afford to each other's industry.
There could be little or no commerce of any kind between the
distant parts of the world. What goods could bear the expense of
land-carriage between London and Calcutta? Or if there were any
so precious as to be able to support this expense, with what
safety could they be transported through the territories of so
many barbarous nations? Those two cities, however, at present
carry on a very considerable commerce with each other, and by
mutually affording a market, give a good deal of encouragement to
each other's industry.
Since such, therefore, are the advantages of water-carriage,
it is natural that the first improvements of art and industry
should be made where this conveniency opens the whole world for a
market to the produce of every sort of labour, and that they
should always be much later in extending themselves into the
inland parts of the country. The inland parts of the country can
for a long time have no other market for the greater part of
their goods, but the country which lies round about them, and
separates them from the sea-coast, and the great navigable
rivers. The extent of their market, therefore, must for a long
time be in proportion to the riches and populousness of that
country, and consequently their improvement must always be
posterior to the improvement of that country. In our North
American colonies the plantations have constantly followed either
the sea-coast or the banks of the navigable rivers, and have
scarce anywhere extended themselves to any considerable distance
from both.
The nations that, according to the best authenticated
history, appear to have been first civilised, were those that
dwelt round the coast of the Mediterranean Sea. That sea, by far
the greatest inlet that is known in the world, having no tides,
nor consequently any waves except such as are caused by the wind
only, was, by the smoothness of its surface, as well as by the
multitude of its islands, and the proximity of its neighbouring
shores, extremely favourable to the infant navigation of the
world; when, from their ignorance of the compass, men were afraid
to quit the view of the coast, and from the imperfection of the
art of shipbuilding, to abandon themselves to the boisterous
waves of the ocean. To pass beyond the pillars of Hercules, that
is, to sail out of the Straits of Gibraltar, was, in the ancient
world, long considered as a most wonderful and dangerous exploit
of navigation. It was late before even the Phoenicians and
Carthaginians, the most skilful navigators and ship-builders of
those old times, attempted it, and they were for a long time the
only nations that did attempt it.
Of all the countries on the coast of the Mediterranean Sea,
Egypt seems to have been the first in which either agriculture or
manufactures were cultivated and improved to any considerable
degree. Upper Egypt extends itself nowhere above a few miles from
the Nile, and in Lower Egypt that great river breaks itself into
many different canals, which, with the assistance of a little
art, seem to have afforded a communication by water-carriage, not
only between all the great towns, but between all the
considerable villages, and even to many farmhouses in the
country; nearly in the same manner as the Rhine and the Maas do
in Holland at present. The extent and easiness of this inland
navigation was probably one of the principal causes of the early
improvement of Egypt.
The improvements in agriculture and manufactures seem
likewise to have been of very great antiquity in the provinces of
Bengal, in the East Indies, and in some of the eastern provinces
of China; though the great extent of this antiquity is not
authenticated by any histories of whose authority we, in this
part of the world, are well assured. In Bengal the Ganges and
several other great rivers form a great number of navigable
canals in the same manner as the Nile does in Egypt. In the
Eastern provinces of China too, several great rivers form, by
their different branches, a multitude of canals, and by
communicating with one another afford an inland navigation much
more extensive than that either of the Nile or the Ganges, or
perhaps than both of them put together. It is remarkable that
neither the ancient Egyptians, nor the Indians, nor the Chinese,
encouraged foreign commerce, but seem all to have derived their
great opulence from this inland navigation.
All the inland parts of Africa, and all that part of Asia
which lies any considerable way north of the Euxine and Caspian
seas, the ancient Scythia, the modern Tartary and Siberia, seem
in all ages of the world to have been in the same barbarous and
uncivilised state in which we find them at present. The Sea of
Tartary is the frozen ocean which admits of no navigation, and
though some of the greatest rivers in the world run through that
country, they are at too great a distance from one another to
carry commerce and communication through the greater part of it.
There are in Africa none of those great inlets, such as the
Baltic and Adriatic seas in Europe, the Mediterranean and Euxine
seas in both Europe and Asia, and the gulfs of Arabia, Persia,
India, Bengal, and Siam, in Asia, to carry maritime commerce into
the interior parts of that great continent: and the great rivers
of Africa are at too great a distance from one another to give
occasion to any considerable inland navigation. The commerce
besides which any nation can carry on by means of a river which
does not break itself into any great number of branches or
canals, and which runs into another territory before it reaches
the sea, can never be very considerable; because it is always in
the power of the nations who possess that other territory to
obstruct the communication between the upper country and the sea.
The navigation of the Danube is of very little use to the
different states of Bavaria, Austria and Hungary, in comparison
of what it would be if any of them possessed the whole of its
course till it falls into the Black Sea.
WHEN the division of labour has been once thoroughly
established, it is but a very small part of a man's wants which
the produce of his own labour can supply. He supplies the far
greater part of them by exchanging that surplus part of the
produce of his own labour, which is over and above his own
consumption, for such parts of the produce of other men's labour
as he has occasion for. Every man thus lives by exchanging, or
becomes in some measure a merchant, and the society itself grows
to be what is properly a commercial society.
But when the division of labour first began to take place,
this power of exchanging must frequently have been very much
clogged and embarrassed in its operations. One man, we shall
suppose, has more of a certain commodity than he himself has
occasion for, while another has less. The former consequently
would be glad to dispose of, and the latter to purchase, a part
of this superfluity. But if this latter should chance to have
nothing that the former stands in need of, no exchange can be
made between them. The butcher has more meat in his shop than he
himself can consume, and the brewer and the baker would each of
them be willing to purchase a part of it. But they have nothing
to offer in exchange, except the different productions of their
respective trades, and the butcher is already provided with all
the bread and beer which he has immediate occasion for. No
exchange can, in this case, be made between them. He cannot be
their merchant, nor they his customers; and they are all of them
thus mutually less serviceable to one another. In order to avoid
the inconveniency of such situations, every prudent man in every
period of society, after the first establishment of the division
of labour, must naturally have endeavoured to manage his affairs
in such a manner as to have at alltimes by him, besides the
peculiar produce of his own industry, a certain quantity of some
one commodity or other, such as he imagined few people would be
likely to refuse in exchange for the produce of their industry.
Many different commodities, it is probable, were
successively both thought of and employed for this purpose. In
the rude ages of society, cattle are said to have been the common
instrument of commerce; and, though they must have been a most
inconvenient one, yet in old times we find things were frequently
valued according to the number of cattle which had been given in
exchange for them. The armour of Diomede, says Homer, cost only
nine oxen; but that of Glaucus cost an hundred oxen. Salt is said
to be the common instrument of commerce and exchanges in
Abyssinia; a species of shells in some parts of the coast of
India; dried cod at Newfoundland; tobacco in Virginia; sugar in
some of our West India colonies; hides or dressed leather in some
other countries; and there is at this day a village in Scotland
where it is not uncommon, I am told, for a workman to carry nails
instead of money to the baker's shop or the alehouse.
In all countries, however, men seem at last to have been
determined by irresistible reasons to give the preference, for
this employment, to metals above every other commodity. Metals
can not only be kept with as little loss as any other commodity,
scarce anything being less perishable than they are, but they can
likewise, without any loss, be divided into any number of parts,
as by fusion those parts can easily be reunited again; a quality
which no other equally durable commodities possess, and which
more than any other quality renders them fit to be the
instruments of commerce and circulation. The man who wanted to
buy salt, for example, and had nothing but cattle to give in
exchange for it, must have been obliged to buy salt to the value
of a whole ox, or a whole sheep at a time. He could seldom buy
less than this, because what he was to give for it could seldom
be divided without loss; and if he had a mind to buy more, he
must, for the same reasons, have been obliged to buy double or
triple the quantity, the value, to wit, of two or three oxen, or
of two or three sheep. If, on the contrary, instead of sheep or
oxen, he had metals to give in exchange for it, he could easily
proportion the quantity of the metal to the precise quantity of
the commodity which he had immediate occasion for.
Different metals have been made use of by different nations
for this purpose. Iron was the common instrument of commerce
among the ancient Spartans; copper among the ancient Romans; and
gold and silver among all rich and commercial nations.
Those metals seem originally to have been made use of for
this purpose in rude bars, without any stamp or coinage. Thus we
are told by Pliny, upon the authority of Timaeus, an ancient
historian, that, till the time of Servius Tullius, the Romans had
no coined money, but made use of unstamped bars of copper, to
purchase whatever they had occasion for. These bars, therefore,
performed at this time the function of money.
The use of metals in this rude state was attended with two
very considerable inconveniencies; first, with the trouble of
weighing; and, secondly, with that of assaying them. In the
precious metals, where a small difference in the quantity makes a
great difference in the value, even the business of weighing,
with proper exactness, requires at least very accurate weights
and scales. The weighing of gold in particular is an operation of
some nicety. In the coarser metals, indeed, where a small error
would be of little consequence, less accuracy would, no doubt, be
necessary. Yet we should find it excessively troublesome, if
every time a poor man had occasion either to buy or sell a
farthing's worth of goods, he was obliged to weigh the farthing.
The operation of assaying is still more difficult, still more
tedious, and, unless a part of the metal is fairly melted in the
crucible, with proper dissolvents, any conclusion that can be
drawn from it, is extremely uncertain. Before the institution of
coined money, however, unless they went through this tedious and
difficult operation, people must always have been liable to the
grossest frauds and impositions, and instead of a pound weight of
pure silver, or pure copper, might receive in exchange for their
goods an adulterated composition of the coarsest and cheapest
materials, which had, however, in their outward appearance, been
made to resemble those metals. To prevent such abuses, to
facilitate exchanges, and thereby to encourage all sorts of
industry and commerce, it has been found necessary, in all
countries that have made any considerable advances towards
improvement, to affix a public stamp upon certain quantities of
such particular metals as were in those countries commonly made
use of to purchase goods. Hence the origin of coined money, and
of those public offices called mints; institutions exactly of the
same nature with those of the aulnagers and stamp-masters of
woolen and linen cloth. All of them are equally meant to
ascertain, by means of a public stamp, the quantity and uniform
goodness of those different commodities when brought to market.
The first public stamps of this kind that were affixed to
the current metals, seem in many cases to have been intended to
ascertain, what it was both most difficult and most important to
ascertain, the goodness or fineness of the metal, and to have
resembled the sterling mark which is at present affixed to plate
and bars of silver, or the Spanish mark which is sometimes
affixed to ingots of gold, and which being struck only upon one
side of the piece, and not covering the whole surface, ascertains
the fineness, but not the weight of the metal. Abraham weighs to
Ephron the four hundred shekels of silver which he had agreed to
pay for the field of Machpelah. They are said, however, to be the
current money of the merchant, and yet are received by weight and
not by tale, in the same manner as ingots of gold and bars of
silver are at present. The revenues of the ancient Saxon kings of
England are said to have been paid, not in money but in kind,
that is, in victuals and provisions of all sorts. William the
Conqueror introduced the custom of paying them in money. This
money, however, was, for a long time, received at the exchequer,
by weight and not by tale.
The inconveniency and difficulty of weighing those metals
with exactness gave occasion to the institution of coins, of
which the stamp, covering entirely both sides of the piece and
sometimes the edges too, was supposed to ascertain not only the
fineness, but the weight of the metal. Such coins, therefore,
were received by tale as at present, without the trouble of
weighing.
The denominations of those coins seem originally to have
expressed the weight or quantity of metal contained in them. In
the time of Servius Tullius, who first coined money at Rome, the
Roman as or pondo contained a Roman pound of good copper. It was
divided in the same manner as our Troyes pound, into twelve
ounces, each of which contained a real ounce of good copper. The
English pound sterling, in the time of Edward I, contained a
pound, Tower weight, of silver, of a known fineness. The Tower
pound seems to have been something more than the Roman pound, and
something less than the Troyes pound. This last was not
introduced into the mint of England till the 18th of Henry VIII.
The French livre contained in the time of Charlemagne a pound,
Troyes weight, of silver of a known fineness. The fair of Troyes
in Champaign was at that time frequented by all the nations of
Europe, and the weights and measures of so famous a market were
generally known and esteemed. The Scots money pound contained,
from the time of Alexander the First to that of Robert Bruce, a
pound of silver of the same weight and fineness with the English
pound sterling. English, French, and Scots pennies, too,
contained all of them originally a real pennyweight of silver,
the twentieth part of an ounce, and the two-hundred-and-fortieth
part of a pound. The shilling too seems originally to have been
the denomination of a weight. When wheat is at twelve shillings
the quarter, says an ancient statute of Henry III, then wastel
bread of a farthing shall weigh eleven shillings and four pence.
The proportion, however, between the shilling and either the
penny on the one hand, or the pound on the other, seems not to
have been so constant and uniform as that between the penny and
the pound. During the first race of the kings of France, the
French sou or shilling appears upon different occasions to have
contained five, twelve, twenty, and forty pennies. Among the
ancient Saxons a shilling appears at one time to have contained
only five pennies, and it is not improbable that it may have been
as variable among them as among their neighbours, the ancient
Franks. From the time of Charlemagne among the French, and from
that of William the Conqueror among the English, the proportion
between the pound, the shilling, and the penny, seems to have
been uniformly the same as at present, though the value of each
has been very different. For in every country of the world, I
believe, the avarice and injustice of princes and sovereign
states, abusing the confidence of their subjects, have by degrees
diminished the real quantity of metal, which had been originally
contained in their coins. The Roman as, in the latter ages of the
Republic, was reduced to the twenty-fourth part of its original
value, and, instead of weighing a pound, came to weigh only half
an ounce. The English pound and penny contain at present about a
third only; the Scots pound and penny about a thirty-sixth; and
the French pound and penny about a sixty-sixth part of their
original value. By means of those operations the princes and
sovereign states which performed them were enabled, in
appearance, to pay their debts and to fulfil their engagements
with a smaller quantity of silver than would otherwise have been
requisite. It was indeed in appearance only; for their creditors
were really defrauded of a part of what was due to them. All
other debtors in the state were allowed the same privilege, and
might pay with the same nominal sum of the new and debased coin
whatever they had borrowed in the old. Such operations,
therefore, have always proved favourable to the debtor, and
ruinous to the creditor, and have sometimes produced a greater
and more universal revolution in the fortunes of private persons,
than could have been occasioned by a very great public calamity.
It is in this manner that money has become in all civilised
nations the universal instrument of commerce, by the intervention
of which goods of all kinds are bought and sold, or exchanged for
one another.
What are the rules which men naturally observe in exchanging
them either for money or for one another, I shall now proceed to
examine. These rules determine what may be called the relative or
exchangeable value of goods.
The word value, it is to be observed, has two different
meanings, and sometimes expresses the utility of some particular
object, and sometimes the power of purchasing other goods which
the possession of that object conveys. The one may be called
"value in use"; the other, "value in exchange." The things which
have the greatest value in use have frequently little or no value
in exchange; and, on the contrary, those which have the greatest
value in exchange have frequently little or no value in use.
Nothing is more useful than water: but it will purchase scarce
anything; scarce anything can be had in exchange for it. A
diamond, on the contrary, has scarce any value in use; but a very
great quantity of other goods may frequently be had in exchange
for it.
In order to investigate the principles which regulate the
exchangeable value of commodities, I shall endeavour to show:
First, what is the real measure of this exchangeable value;
or, wherein consists the real price of all commodities.
Secondly, what are the different parts of which this real
price is composed or made up.
And, lastly, what are the different circumstances which
sometimes raise some or all of these different parts of price
above, and sometimes sink them below their natural or ordinary
rate; or, what are the causes which sometimes hinder the market
price, that is, the actual price of commodities, from coinciding
exactly with what may be called their natural price.
I shall endeavour to explain, as fully and distinctly as I
can, those three subjects in the three following chapters, for
which I must very earnestly entreat both the patience and
attention of the reader: his patience in order to examine a
detail which may perhaps in some places appear unnecessarily
tedious; and his attention in order to understand what may,
perhaps, after the fullest explication which I am capable of
giving of it, appear still in some degree obscure. I am always
willing to run some hazard of being tedious in order to be sure
that I am perspicuous; and after taking the utmost pains that I
can to be perspicuous, some obscurity may still appear to remain
upon a subject in its own nature extremely abstracted.
EVERY man is rich or poor according to the degree in which
he can afford to enjoy the necessaries, conveniences, and
amusements of human life. But after the division of labour has
once thoroughly taken place, it is but a very small part of these
with which a man's own labour can supply him. The far greater
part of them he must derive from the labour of other people, and
he must be rich or poor according to the quantity of that labour
which he can command, or which he can afford to purchase. The
value of any commodity, therefore, to the person who possesses
it, and who means not to use or consume it himself, but to
exchange it for other commodities, is equal to the quantity of
labour which it enables him to purchase or command. Labour,
therefore, is the real measure of the exchangeable value of all
commodities.
The real price of everything, what everything really costs
to the man who wants to acquire it, is the toil and trouble of
acquiring it. What everything is really worth to the man who has
acquired it, and who wants to dispose of it or exchange it for
something else, is the toil and trouble which it can save to
himself, and which it can impose upon other people. What is
bought with money or with goods is purchased by labour as much as
what we acquire by the toil of our own body. That money or those
goods indeed save us this toil. They contain the value of a
certain quantity of labour which we exchange for what is supposed
at the time to contain the value of an equal quantity. Labour was
the first price, the original purchase-money that was paid for
all things. It was not by gold or by silver, but by labour, that
all the wealth of the world was originally purchased; and its
value, to those who possess it, and who want to exchange it for
some new productions, is precisely equal to the quantity of
labour which it can enable them to purchase or command.
Wealth, as Mr. Hobbes says, is power. But the person who
either acquires, or succeeds to a great fortune, does not
necessarily acquire or succeed to any political power, either
civil or military. His fortune may, perhaps, afford him the means
of acquiring both, but the mere possession of that fortune does
not necessarily convey to him either. The power which that
possession immediately and directly conveys to him, is the power
of purchasing; a certain command over all the labour, or over all
the produce of labour, which is then in the market. His fortune
is greater or less, precisely in proportion to the extent of this
power; or to the quantity either of other men's labour, or, what
is the same thing, of the produce of other men's labour, which it
enables him to purchase or command. The exchangeable value of
everything must always be precisely equal to the extent of this
power which it conveys to its owner.
But though labour be the real measure of the exchangeable
value of all commodities, it is not that by which their value is
commonly estimated. It is of difficult to ascertain the
proportion between two different quantities of labour. The time
spent in two different sorts of work will not always alone
determine this proportion. The different degrees of hardship
endured, and of ingenuity exercised, must likewise be taken into
account. There may be more labour in an hour's hard work than in
two hours' easy business; or in an hour's application to a trade
which it cost ten years' labour to learn, than in a month's
industry at an ordinary and obvious employment. But it is not
easy to find any accurate measure either of hardship or
ingenuity. In exchanging, indeed, the different productions of
different sorts of labour for one another, some allowance is
commonly made for both. It is adjusted, however, not by any
accurate measure, but by the higgling and bargaining of the
market, according to that sort of rough equality which, though
not exact, is sufficient for carrying on the business of common
life.
Every commodity, besides, is more frequently exchanged for,
and thereby compared with, other commodities than with labour. It
is more natural, therefore, to estimate its exchangeable value by
the quantity of some other commodity than by that of the labour
which it can purchase. The greater part of people, too,
understand better what is meant by a quantity of a particular
commodity than by a quantity of labour. The one is a plain
palpable object; the other an abstract notion, which, though it
can be made sufficiently intelligible, is not altogether so
natural and obvious.
But when barter ceases, and money has become the common
instrument of commerce, every particular commodity is more
frequently exchanged for money than for any other commodity. The
butcher seldom carries his beef or his mutton to the baker, or
the brewer, in order to exchange them for bread or for beer; but
he carries them to the market, where he exchanges them for money,
and afterwards exchanges that money for bread and for beer. The
quantity of money which he gets for them regulates, too, the
quantity of bread and beer which he can afterwards purchase. It
is more natural and obvious to him, therefore, to estimate their
value by the quantity of money, the commodity for which he
immediately exchanges them, than by that of bread and beer, the
commodities for which he can exchange them only by the
intervention of another commodity; and rather to say that his
butcher's meat is worth threepence or fourpence a pound, than
that it is worth three or four pounds of bread, or three or four
quarts of small beer. Hence it comes to pass that the
exchangeable value of every commodity is more frequently
estimated by the quantity of money, than by the quantity either
of labour or of any other commodity which can be had in exchange
for it.
Gold and silver, however, like every other commodity, vary
in their value, are sometimes cheaper and sometimes dearer,
sometimes of easier and sometimes of more difficult purchase. The
quantity of labour which any particular quantity of them can
purchase or command, or the quantity of other goods which it will
exchange for, depends always upon the fertility or barrenness of
the mines which happen to be known about the time when such
exchanges are made. The discovery of the abundant mines of
America reduced, in the sixteenth century, the value of gold and
silver in Europe to about a third of what it had been before. As
it costs less labour to bring those metals from the mine to the
market, so when they were brought thither they could purchase or
command less labour; and this revolution in their value, though
perhaps the greatest, is by no means the only one of which
history gives some account. But as a measure of quantity, such as
the natural foot, fathom, or handful, which is continually
varying in its own quantity, can never be an accurate measure of
the quantity of other things; so a commodity which is itself
continually varying in its own value, can never be an accurate
measure of the value of other commodities. Equal quantities of
labour, at all times and places, may be said to be of equal value
to the labourer. In his ordinary state of health, strength and
spirits; in the ordinary degree of his skill and dexterity, he
must always laydown the same portion of his ease, his liberty,
and his happiness. The price which he pays must always be the
same, whatever may be the quantity of goods which he receives in
return for it. Of these, indeed, it may sometimes purchase a
greater and sometimes a smaller quantity; but it is their value
which varies, not that of the labour which purchases them. At all
times and places that is dear which it is difficult to come at,
or which it costs much labour to acquire; and that cheap which is
to be had easily, or with very little labour. Labour alone,
therefore, never varying in its own value, is alone the ultimate
and real standard by which the value of all commodities can at
all times and places be estimated and compared. It is their real
price; money is their nominal price only.
But though equal quantities of labour are always of equal
value to the labourer, yet to the person who employs him they
appear sometimes to be of greater and sometimes of smaller value.
He purchases them sometimes with a greater and sometimes with a
smaller quantity of goods, and to him the price of labour seems
to vary like that of all other things. It appears to him dear in
the one case, and cheap in the other. In reality, however, it is
the goods which are cheap in the one case, and dear in the other.
In this popular sense, therefore, labour, like commodities,
may be said to have a real and a nominal price. Its real price
may be said to consist in the quantity of the necessaries and
conveniences of life which are given for it; its nominal price,
in the quantity of money. The labourer is rich or poor, is well
or ill rewarded, in proportion to the real, not to the nominal
price of his labour.
The distinction between the real and the nominal price of
commodities and labour is not a matter of mere speculation, but
may sometimes be of considerable use in practice. The same real
price is always of the same value; but on account of the
variations in the value of gold and silver, the same nominal
price is sometimes of very different values. When a landed
estate, therefore, is sold with a reservation of a perpetual
rent, if it is intended that this rent should always be of the
same value, it is of importance to the family in whose favour it
is reserved that it should not consist in a particular sum of
money. Its value would in this case be liable to variations of
two different kinds; first, to those which arise from the
different quantities of gold and silver which are contained at
different times in coin of the same denomination; and, secondly,
to those which arise from the different values of equal
quantities of gold and silver at different times.
Princes and sovereign states have frequently fancied that
they had a temporary interest to diminish the quantity of pure
metal contained in their coins; but they seldom have fancied that
they had any to augment it. The quantity of metal contained in
the coins, I believe of all nations, has, accordingly, been
almost continually diminishing, and hardly ever augmenting. Such
variations, therefore, tend almost always to diminish the value
of a money rent.
The discovery of the mines of America diminished the value
of gold and silver in Europe. This diminution, it is commonly
supposed, though I apprehend without any certain proof, is still
going on gradually, and is likely to continue to do so for a long
time. Upon this supposition, therefore, such variations are more
likely to diminish than to augment the value of a money rent,
even though it should be stipulated to be paid, not in such a
quantity of coined money of such a denomination (in so many
pounds sterling, for example), but in so many ounces either of
pure silver, or of silver of a certain standard.
The rents which have been reserved in corn have preserved
their value much better than those which have been reserved in
money, even where the denomination of the coin has not been
altered. By the 18th of Elizabeth it was enacted that a third of
the rent of all college leases should be reserved in corn, to be
paid, either in kind, or according to the current prices at the
nearest public market. The money arising from this corn rent,
though originally but a third of the whole, is in the present
times, according to Dr. Blackstone, commonly near double of what
arises from the other two-thirds. The old money rents of colleges
must, according to this account, have sunk almost to a fourth
part of their ancient value; or are worth little more than a
fourth part of the corn which they were formerly worth. But since
the reign of Philip and Mary the denomination of the English coin
has undergone little or no alteration, and the same number of
pounds, shillings and pence have contained very nearly the same
quantity of pure silver. This degradation, therefore, in the
value of the money rents of colleges, has arisen altogether from
the degradation in the value of silver.
When the degradation in the value of silver is combined with
the diminution of the quantity of it contained in the coin of the
same denomination, the loss is frequently still greater. In
Scotland, where the denomination of the coin has undergone much
greater alterations than it ever did in England, and in France,
where it has undergone still greater than it ever did in
Scotland, some ancient rents, originally of considerable value,
have in this manner been reduced almost to nothing.
Equal quantities of labour will at distant times be
purchased more nearly with equal quantities of corn, the
subsistence of the labourer, than with equal quantities of gold
and silver, or perhaps of any other commodity. Equal quantities
of corn, therefore, will, at distant times, be more nearly of the
same real value, or enable the possessor to purchase or command
more nearly the same quantity of the labour of other people. They
will do this, I say, more nearly than equal quantities of almost
any other commodity; for even equal quantities of corn will not
do it exactly. The subsistence of the labourer, or the real price
of labour, as I shall endeavour to show hereafter, is very
different upon different occasions; more liberal in a society
advancing to opulence than in one that is standing still; and in
one that is standing still than in one that is going backwards.
Every other commodity, however, will at any particular time
purchase a greater or smaller quantity of labour in proportion to
the quantity of subsistence which it can purchase at that time. A
rent therefore reserved in corn is liable only to the variations
in the quantity of labour which a certain quantity of corn can
purchase. But a rent reserved in any other commodity is liable
not only to the variations in the quantity of labour which any
particular quantity of corn can purchase, but to the variations
in the quantity of corn which can be purchased by any particular
quantity of that commodity.
Though the real value of a corn rent, it is to be observed,
however, varies much less from century to century than that of a
money rent, it varies much more from year to year. The money
price of labour, as I shall endeavour to show hereafter, does not
fluctuate from year to year with the money price of corn, but
seems to be everywhere accommodated, not to the temporary or
occasional, but to the average or ordinary price of that
necessary of life. The average or ordinary price of corn again is
regulated, as I shall likewise endeavour to show hereafter, by
the value of silver, by the richness or barrenness of the mines
which supply the market with that metal, or by the quantity of
labour which must be employed, and consequently of corn which
must be consumed, in order to bring any particular quantity of
silver from the mine to the market. But the value of silver,
though it sometimes varies greatly from century to century,
seldom varies much from year to year, but frequently continues
the same, or very nearly the same, for half a century or a
century together. The ordinary or average money price of corn,
therefore, may, during so long a period, continue the same or
very nearly the same too, and along with it the money price of
labour, provided, at least, the society continues, in other
respects, in the same or nearly in the same condition. In the
meantime the temporary and occasional price of corn may
frequently be double, one year, of what it had been the year
before, or fluctuate, for example, from five and twenty to fifty
shillings the quarter. But when corn is at the latter price, not
only the nominal, but the real value of a corn rent will be
double of what it is when at the former, or will command double
the quantity either of labour or of the greater part of other
commodities; the money price of labour, and along with it that of
most other things, continuing the same during all these
fluctuations.
Labour, therefore, it appears evidently, is the only
universal, as well as the only accurate measure of value, or the
only standard by which we can compare the values of different
commodities at all times, and at all places. We cannot estimate,
it is allowed, the real value of different commodities from
century to century by the quantities of silver which were given
for them. We cannot estimate it from year to year by the
quantities of corn. By the quantities of labour we can, with the
greatest accuracy, estimate it both from century to century and
from year to year. From century to century, corn is a better
measure than silver, because, from century to century, equal
quantities of corn will command the same quantity of labour more
nearly than equal quantities of silver. From year to year, on the
contrary, silver is a better measure than corn, because equal
quantities of it will more nearly command the same quantity of
labour.
But though in establishing perpetual rents, or even in
letting very long leases, it may be of use to distinguish between
real and nominal price; it is of none in buying and selling, the
more common and ordinary transactions of human life.
At the same time and place the real and the nominal price of
all commodities are exactly in proportion to one another. The
more or less money you get for any commodity, in the London
market for example, the more or less labour it will at that time
and place enable you to purchase or command. At the same time and
place, therefore, money is the exact measure of the real
exchangeable value of all commodities. It is so, however, at the
same time and place only.
Though at distant places, there is no regular proportion
between the real and the money price of commodities, yet the
merchant who carries goods from the one to the other has nothing
to consider but their money price, or the difference between the
quantity of silver for which he buys them, and that for which he
is likely to sell them. Half an ounce of silver at Canton in
China may command a greater quantity both of labour and of the
necessaries and conveniences of life than an ounce at London. A
commodity, therefore, which sells for half an ounce of silver at
Canton may there be really dearer, of more real importance to the
man who possesses it there, than a commodity which sells for an
ounce at London is to the man who possesses it at London. If a
London merchant, however, can buy at Canton for half an ounce of
silver, a commodity which he can afterwards sell at London for an
ounce, he gains a hundred per cent by the bargain, just as much
as if an ounce of silver was at London exactly of the same value
as at Canton. It is of no importance to him that half an ounce of
silver at Canton would have given him the command of more labour
and of a greater quantity of the necessaries and conveniences of
life than an ounce can do at London. An ounce at London will
always give him the command of double the quantity of all these
which half an ounce could have done there, and this is precisely
what he wants.
As it is the nominal or money price of goods, therefore,
which finally determines the prudence or imprudence of all
purchases and sales, and thereby regulates almost the whole
business of common life in which price is concerned, we cannot
wonder that it should have been so much more attended to than the
real price.
In such a work as this, however, it may sometimes be of use
to compare the different real values of a particular commodity at
different times and places, or the different degrees of power
over the labour of other people which it may, upon different
occasions, have given to those who possessed it. We must in this
case compare, not so much the different quantities of silver for
which it was commonly sold, as the different quantities of labour
which those different quantities of silver could have purchased.
But the current prices of labour at distant times and places can
scarce ever be known with any degree of exactness. Those of corn,
though they have in few places been regularly recorded, are in
general better known and have been more frequently taken notice
of by historians and other writers. We must generally, therefore,
content ourselves with them, not as being always exactly in the
same proportion as the current prices of labour, but as being the
nearest approximation which can commonly be had to that
proportion. I shall hereafter have occasion to make several
comparisons of this kind.
In the progress of industry, commercial nations have found
it convenient to coin several different metals into money; gold
for larger payments, silver for purchases of moderate value, and
copper, or some other coarse metal, for those of still smaller
consideration. They have always, however, considered one of those
metals as more peculiarly the measure of value than any of the
other two; and this preference seems generally to have been given
to the metal which they happened first to make use of as the
instrument of commerce. Having once begun to use it as their
standard, which they must have done when they had no other money,
they have generally continued to do so even when the necessity
was not the same.
The Romans are said to have had nothing but copper money
till within five years before the first Punic war, when they
first began to coin silver. Copper, therefore, appears to have
continued always the measure of value in that republic. At Rome
all accounts appear to have been kept, and the value of all
estates to have been computed either in asses or in sestertii.
The as was always the denomination of a copper coin. The word
sestertius signifies two asses and a half. Though the sestertius,
therefore, was originally a silver coin, its value was estimated
in copper. At Rome, one who owed a great deal of money was said
to have a great deal of other people's copper.
The northern nations who established themselves upon the
ruins of the Roman empire, seem to have had silver money from the
first beginning of their settlements, and not to have known
either gold or copper coins for several ages thereafter. There
were silver coins in England in the time of the Saxons; but there
was little gold coined till the time of Edward III nor any copper
till that of James I of Great Britain. In England, therefore, and
for the same reason, I believe, in all other modern nations of
Europe, all accounts are kept, and the value of all goods and of
all estates is generally computed in silver: and when we mean to
express the amount of a person's fortune, we seldom mention the
number of guineas, but the number of pounds sterling which we
suppose would be given for it.
Originally, in all countries, I believe, a legal tender of
payment could be made only in the coin of that metal, which was
peculiarly considered as the standard or measure of value. In
England, gold was not considered as a legal tender for a long
time after it was coined into money. The proportion between the
values of gold and silver money was not fixed by any public law
or proclamation; but was left to be settled by the market. If a
debtor offered payment in gold, the creditor might either reject
such payment altogether, or accept of it at such a valuation of
the gold as he and his debtor could agree upon. Copper is not at
present a legal tender except in the change of the smaller silver
coins. In this state of things the distinction between the metal
which was the standard, and that which was not the standard, was
something more than a nominal distinction.
In process of time, and as people became gradually more
familiar with the use of the different metals in coin, and
consequently better acquainted with the proportion between their
respective values, it has in most countries, I believe, been
found convenient to ascertain this proportion, and to declare by
a public law that a guinea, for example, of such a weight and
fineness, should exchange for one-and-twenty shillings, or be a
legal tender for a debt of that amount. In this state of things,
and during the continuance of any one regulated proportion of
this kind, the distinction between the metal which is the
standard, and that which is not the standard, becomes little more
than a nominal distinction.
In consequence of any change, however, in this regulated
proportion, this distinction becomes, or at least seems to
become, something more than nominal again. If the regulated value
of a guinea, for example, was either reduced to twenty, or raised
to two-and-twenty shillings, all accounts being kept and almost
all obligations for debt being expressed in silver money, the
greater part of payments could in either case be made with the
same quantity of silver money as before; but would require very
different quantities of gold money; a greater in the one case,
and a smaller in the other. Silver would appear to be more
invariable in its value than gold. Silver would appear to measure
the value of gold, and gold would not appear to measure the value
of silver. The value of gold would seem to depend upon the
quantity of silver which it would exchange for; and the value of
silver would not seem to depend upon the quantity of gold which
it would exchange for. This difference, however, would be
altogether owing to the custom of keeping accounts, and of
expressing the amount of all great and small sums rather in
silver than in gold money. One of Mr. Drummond's notes for
five-and-twenty or fifty guineas would, after an alteration of
this kind, be still payable with five-and-twenty or fifty guineas
in the same manner as before. It would, after such an alteration,
be payable with the same quantity of gold as before, but with
very different quantities of silver. In the payment of such a
note, gold would appear to be more invariable in its value than
silver. Gold would appear to measure the value of silver, and
silver would not appear to measure the value of gold. If the
custom of keeping accounts, and of expressing promissory notes
and other obligations for money in this manner, should ever
become general, gold, and not silver, would be considered as the
metal which was peculiarly the standard or measure of value.
In reality, during the continuance of any one regulated
proportion between the respective values of the different metals
in coin, the value of the most precious metal regulates the value
of the whole coin. Twelve copper pence contain half a pound,
avoirdupois, of copper, of not the best quality, which, before it
is coined, is seldom worth sevenpence in silver. But as by the
regulation twelve such pence are ordered to exchange for a
shilling, they are in the market considered as worth a shilling,
and a shilling can at any time be had for them. Even before the
late reformation of the gold coin of Great Britain, the gold,
that part of it at least which circulated in London and its
neighbourhood, was in general less degraded below its standard
weight than the greater part of the silver. One-and-twenty worn
and defaced shillings, however, were considered as equivalent to
a guinea, which perhaps, indeed, was worn and defaced too, but
seldom so much so. The late regulations have brought the gold
coin as near perhaps to its standard weight as it is possible to
bring the current coin of any nation; and the order, to receive
no gold at the public offices but by weight, is likely to
preserve it so, as long as that order is enforced. The silver
coin still continues in the same worn and degraded state as
before the reformation of the gold coin. In the market, however,
one-and-twenty shillings of this degraded silver coin are still
considered as worth a guinea of this excellent gold coin.
The reformation of the gold coin has evidently raised the
value of the silver coin which can be exchanged for it.
In the English mint a pound weight of gold is coined into
forty-four guineas and a half, which, at one-and-twenty shillings
the guinea, is equal to forty-six pounds fourteen shillings and
sixpence. An ounce of such gold coin, therefore, is worth L3 17s.
10 1/2d. in silver. In England no duty or seignorage is paid upon
the coinage, and he who carries a pound weight or an ounce weight
of standard gold bullion to the mint, gets back a pound weight or
an ounce weight of gold in coin, without any deduction. Three
pounds seventeen shillings and tenpence halfpenny an ounce,
therefore, is said to be the mint price of gold in England, or
the quantity of gold coin which the mint gives in return for
standard gold bullion.
Before the reformation of the gold coin, the price of
standard gold bullion in the market had for many years been
upwards of L3 18s. sometimes L3 19s. and very frequently L4 an
ounce; that sum, it is probable, in the worn and degraded gold
coin, seldom containing more than an ounce of standard gold.
Since the reformation of the gold coin, the market price of
standard gold bullion seldom exceeds L3 17s. 7d. an ounce. Before
the reformation of the gold coin, the market price was always
more or less above the mint price. Since that reformation, the
market price has been constantly below the mint price. But that
market price is the same whether it is paid in gold or in silver
coin. The late reformation of the gold coin, therefore, has
raised not only the value of the gold coin, but likewise that of
the silver coin in proportion to gold bullion, and probably, too,
in proportion to all other commodities; through the price of the
greater part of other commodities being influenced by so many
other causes, the rise in the value either of gold or silver coin
in proportion to them may not be so distinct and sensible.
In the English mint a pound weight of standard silver
bullion is coined into sixty-two shillings, containing, in the
same manner, a pound weight of standard silver. Five shillings
and twopence an ounce, therefore, is said to be the mint price of
silver in England, or the quantity of silver coin which the mint
gives in return for standard silver bullion. Before the
reformation of the gold coin, the market price of standard silver
bullion was, upon different occasions, five shillings and
fourpence, five shillings and fivepence, five shillings and
sixpence, five shillings and sevenpence, and very often five
shillings and eightpence an ounce. Five shillings and sevenpence,
however, seems to have been the most common price. Since the
reformation of the gold coin, the market price of standard silver
bullion has fallen occasionally to five shillings and threepence,
five shillings and fourpence, and five shillings and fivepence an
ounce, which last price it has scarce ever exceeded. Though the
market price of silver bullion has fallen considerably since the
reformation of the gold coin, it has not fallen so low as the
mint price.
In the proportion between the different metals in the
English coin, as copper is rated very much above its real value,
so silver is rated somewhat below it. In the market of Europe, in
the French coin and in the Dutch coin, an ounce of fine gold
exchanges for about fourteen ounces of fine silver. In the
English coin, it exchanges for about fifteen ounces, that is, for
more silver than it is worth according to the common estimation
of Europe. But as the price of copper in bars is not, even in
England, raised by the high price of copper in English coin, so
the price of silver in bullion is not sunk by the low rate of
silver in English coin. Silver in bullion still preserves its
proper proportion to gold; for the same reason that copper in
bars preserves its proper proportion to silver.
Upon the reformation of the silver coin in the reign of
William III the price of silver bullion still continued to be
somewhat above the mint price. Mr. Locke imputed this high price
to the permission of exporting silver bullion, and to the
prohibition of exporting silver coin. This permission of
exporting, he said, rendered the demand for silver bullion
greater than the demand for silver coin. But the number of people
who want silver coin for the common uses of buying and selling at
home, is surely much greater than that of those who want silver
bullion either for the use of exportation or for any other use.
There subsists at present a like permission of exporting gold
bullion, and a like prohibition of exporting gold coin: and yet
the price of gold bullion has fallen below the mint price. But in
the English coin silver was then, in the same manner as now,
under-rated in proportion to gold, and the gold coin (which at
that time too was not supposed to require any reformation)
regulated then, as well as now, the real value of the whole coin.
As the reformation of the silver coin did not then reduce the
price of silver bullion to the mint price, it is not very
probable that a like reformation will do so now.
Were the silver coin brought back as near to its standard
weight as the gold, a guinea, it is probable, would, according to
the present proportion, exchange for more silver in coin than it
would purchase in bullion. The silver coin containing its full
standard weight, there would in this case be a profit in melting
it down, in order, first, to sell the bullion for gold coin, and
afterwards to exchange this gold coin for silver coin to be
melted down in the same manner. Some alteration in the present
proportion seems to be the only method of preventing this
inconveniency.
The inconveniency perhaps would be less if silver was rated
in the coin as much above its proper proportion to gold as it is
at present rated below it; provided it was at the same time
enacted that silver should not be a legal tender for more than
the change of a guinea, in the same manner as copper is not a
legal tender for more than the change of a shilling. No creditor
could in this case be cheated in consequence of the high
valuation of silver in coin; as no creditor can at present be
cheated in consequence of the high valuation of copper. The
bankers only would suffer by this regulation. When a run comes
upon them they sometimes endeavour to gain time by paying in
sixpences, and they would be precluded by this regulation from
this discreditable method of evading immediate payment. They
would be obliged in consequence to keep at all times in their
coffers a greater quantity of cash than at present; and though
this might no doubt be a considerable inconveniency to them, it
would at the same time be a considerable security to their
creditors.
Three pounds seventeen shillings and tenpence halfpenny (the
mint price of gold) certainly does not contain, even in our
present excellent gold coin, more than an ounce of standard gold,
and it may be thought, therefore, should not purchase more
standard bullion. But gold in coin is more convenient than gold
in bullion, and though, in England, the coinage is free, yet the
gold which is carried in bullion to the mint can seldom be
returned in coin to the owner till after a delay of several
weeks. In the present hurry of the mint, it could not be returned
till after a delay of several months. This delay is equivalent to
a small duty, and renders gold in coin somewhat more valuable
than an equal quantity of gold in bullion. If in the English coin
silver was rated according to it proper proportion to gold, the
price of silver bullion would probably fall below the mint price
even without any reformation of the silver coin; the value even
of the present worn and defaced silver coin being regulated by
the value of the excellent gold coin for which it can be changed.
A small seignorage or duty upon the coinage of both gold and
silver would probably increase still more the superiority of
those metals in coin above an equal quantity of either of them in
bullion. The coinage would in this case increase the value of the
metal coined in proportion to the extent of this small duty; for
the same reason that the fashion increases the value of plate in
proportion to the price of that fashion. The superiority of coin
above bullion would prevent the melting down of the coin, and
would discourage its exportation. If upon any public exigency it
should become necessary to export the coin, the greater part of
it would soon return again of its own accord. Abroad it could
sell only for its weight in bullion. At home it would buy more
than that weight. There would be a profit, therefore, in bringing
it home again. In France a seignorage of about eight per cent is
imposed upon the coinage, and the French coin, when exported, is
said to return home again of its own accord.
The occasional fluctuations in the market price of gold and
silver bullion arise from the same causes as the like
fluctuations in that of all other commodities. The frequent loss
of those metals from various accidents by sea and by land, the
continual waste of them in gilding and plating, in lace and
embroidery, in the wear and tear of coin, and in that of plate;
require, in all countries which possess no mines of their own, a
continual importation, in order to repair this loss and this
waste. The merchant importers, like all other merchants, we may
believe, endeavour, as well as they can, to suit their occasional
importations to what, they judge, is likely to be the immediate
demand. With all their attention, however, they sometimes overdo
the business, and sometimes underdo it. When they import more
bullion than is wanted, rather than incur the risk and trouble of
exporting it again, they are sometimes willing to sell a part of
it for something less than the ordinary or average price. When,
on the other hand, they import less than is wanted, they get
something more than this price. But when, under all those
occasional fluctuations, the market price either of gold or
silver bullion continues for several years together steadily and
constantly, either more or less above, or more or less below the
mint price, we may be assured that this steady and constant,
either superiority or inferiority of price, is the effect of
something in the state of the coin, which, at that time, renders
a certain quantity of coin either of more value or of less value
than the precise quantity of bullion which it ought to contain.
The constancy and steadiness of the effect supposes a
proportionable constancy and steadiness in the cause.
The money of any particular country is, at any particular
time and place, more or less an accurate measure of value
according as the current coin is more or less exactly agreeable
to its standard, or contains more or less exactly the precise
quantity of pure gold or pure silver which it ought to contain.
If in England, for example, forty-four guineas and a half
contained exactly a pound weight of standard gold, or eleven
ounces of fine gold and one ounce of alloy, the gold coin of
England would be as accurate a measure of the actual value of
goods at any particular time and place as the nature of the thing
would admit. But if, by rubbing and wearing, forty-four guineas
and a half generally contain less than a pound weight of standard
gold; the diminution, however, being greater in some pieces than
in others; the measure of value comes to be liable to the same
sort of uncertainty to which all other weights and measures are
commonly exposed. As it rarely happens that these are exactly
agreeable to their standard, the merchant adjusts the price of
his goods, as well as he can, not to what those weights and
measures ought to be, but to what, upon an average, he finds by
experience they actually are. In consequence of a like disorder
in the coin, the price of goods comes, in the same manner, to be
adjusted, not to the quantity of pure gold or silver which the
corn ought to contain, but to that which, upon an average, it is
found by experience, it actually does contain.
By the money-price of goods, it is to be observed, I
understand always the quantity of pure gold or silver for which
they are sold, without any regard to the denomination of the
coin. Six shillings and eightpence, for example, in the time of
Edward I, I consider as the same money-price with a pound
sterling in the present times; because it contained, as nearly as
we can judge, the same quantity of pure silver.
IN that early and rude state of society which precedes both
the accumulation of stock and the appropriation of land, the
proportion between the quantities of labour necessary for
acquiring different objects seems to be the only circumstance
which can afford any rule for exchanging them for one another. If
among a nation of hunters, for example, it usually costs twice
the labour to kill a beaver which it does to kill a deer, one
beaver should naturally exchange for or be worth two deer. It is
natural that what is usually the produce of two days' or two
hours' labour, should be worth double of what is usually the
produce of one day's or one hour's labour.
If the one species of labour should be more severe than the
other, some allowance will naturally be made for this superior
hardship; and the produce of one hour's labour in the one way may
frequently exchange for that of two hours' labour in the other.
Or if the one species of labour requires an uncommon degree
of dexterity and ingenuity, the esteem which men have for such
talents will naturally give a value to their produce, superior to
what would be due to the time employed about it. Such talents can
seldom be acquired but in consequence of long application, and
the superior value of their produce may frequently be no more
than a reasonable compensation for the time and labour which must
be spent in acquiring them. In the advanced state of society,
allowances of this kind, for superior hardship and superior
skill, are commonly made in the wages of labour; and something of
the same kind must probably have taken place in its earliest and
rudest period.
In this state of things, the whole produce of labour belongs
to the labourer; and the quantity of labour commonly employed in
acquiring or producing any commodity is the only circumstance
which can regulate the quantity exchange for which it ought
commonly to purchase, command, or exchange for.
As soon as stock has accumulated in the hands of particular
persons, some of them will naturally employ it in setting to work
industrious people, whom they will supply with materials and
subsistence, in order to make a profit by the sale of their work,
or by what their labour adds to the value of the materials. In
exchanging the complete manufacture either for money, for labour,
or for other goods, over and above what may be sufficient to pay
the price of the materials, and the wages of the workmen,
something must be given for the profits of the undertaker of the
work who hazards his stock in this adventure. The value which the
workmen add to the materials, therefore, resolves itself in this
ease into two parts, of which the one pays their wages, the other
the profits of their employer upon the whole stock of materials
and wages which he advanced. He could have no interest to employ
them, unless he expected from the sale of their work something
more than what was sufficient to replace his stock to him; and he
could have no interest to employ a great stock rather than a
small one, unless his profits were to bear some proportion to the
extent of his stock.
The profits of stock, it may perhaps be thought are only a
different name for the wages of a particular sort of labour, the
labour of inspection and direction. They are, however, altogether
different, are regulated by quite different principles, and bear
no proportion to the quantity, the hardship, or the ingenuity of
this supposed labour of inspection and direction. They are
regulated altogether by the value of the stock employed, and are
greater or smaller in proportion to the extent of this stock. Let
us suppose, for example, that in some particular place, where the
common annual profits of manufacturing stock are ten per cent,
there are two different manufactures, in each of which twenty
workmen are employed at the rate of fifteen pounds a year each,
or at the expense of three hundred a year in each manufactory.
Let us suppose, too, that the coarse materials annually wrought
up in the one cost only seven hundred pounds, while the finer
materials in the other cost seven thousand. The capital annually
employed in the one will in this case amount only to one thousand
pounds; whereas that employed in the other will amount to seven
thousand three hundred pounds. At the rate of ten per cent,
therefore, the undertaker of the one will expect a yearly profit
of about one hundred pounds only; while that of the other will
expect about seven hundred and thirty pounds. But though their
profits are so very different, their labour of inspection and
direction may be either altogether or very nearly the same. In
many great works almost the whole labour of this kind is
committed to some principal clerk. His wages properly express the
value of this labour of inspection and direction. Though in
settling them some regard is had commonly, not only to his labour
and skill, but to the trust which is reposed in him, yet they
never bear any regular proportion to the capital of which he
oversees the management; and the owner of this capital, though he
is thus discharged of almost all labour, still expects that his
profits should bear a regular proportion to his capital. In the
price of commodities, therefore, the profits of stock constitute
a component part altogether different from the wages of labour,
and regulated by quite different principles.
In this state of things, the whole produce of labour does
not always belong to the labourer. He must in most cases share it
with the owner of the stock which employs him. Neither is the
quantity of labour commonly employed in acquiring or producing
any commodity, the only circumstance which can regulate the
quantity which it ought commonly to purchase, command, or
exchange for. An additional quantity, it is evident, must be due
for the profits of the stock which advanced the wages and
furnished the materials of that labour.
As soon as the land of any country has all become private
property, the landlords, like all other men, love to reap where
they never sowed, and demand a rent even for its natural produce.
The wood of the forest, the grass of the field, and all the
natural fruits of the earth, which, when land was in common, cost
the labourer only the trouble of gathering them, come, even to
him, to have an additional price fixed upon them. He must then
pay for the licence to gather them; and must give up to the
landlord a portion of what his labour either collects or
produces. This portion, or, what comes to the same thing, the
price of this portion, constitutes the rent of land, and in the
price of the greater part of commodities makes a third component
part.
The real value of all the different component parts of
price, it must be observed, is measured by the quantity of labour
which they can, each of them, purchase or command. Labour
measures the value not only of that part of price which resolves
itself into labour, but of that which resolves itself into rent,
and of that which resolves itself into profit.
In every society the price of every commodity finally
resolves itself into some one or other, or all of those three
parts; and in every improved society, all the three enter more or
less, as component parts, into the price of the far greater part
of commodities.
In the price of corn, for example, one part pays the rent of
the landlord, another pays the wages or maintenance of the
labourers and labouring cattle employed in producing it, and the
third pays the profit of the farmer. These three parts seem
either immediately or ultimately to make up the whole price of
corn. A fourth part, it may perhaps be thought, is necessary for
replacing the stock of the farmer, or for compensating the wear
and tear of his labouring cattle, and other instruments of
husbandry. But it must be considered that the price of any
instrument of husbandry, such as a labouring horse, is itself
made up of the same three parts; the rent of the land upon which
he is reared, the labour of tending and rearing him, and the
profits of the farmer who advances both the rent of this land,
and the wages of this labour. Though the price of the corn,
therefore, may pay the price as well as the maintenance of the
horse, the whole price still resolves itself either immediately
or ultimately into the same three parts of rent, labour, and
profit.
In the price of flour or meal, we must add to the price of
the corn, the profits of the miller, and the wages of his
servants; in the price of bread, the profits of the baker, and
the wages of his servants; and in the price of both, the labour
of transporting the corn from the house of the farmer to that of
the miller, and from that of the miner to that of the baker,
together with the profits of those who advance the wages of that
labour.
The price of flax resolves itself into the same three parts
as that of corn. In the price of linen we must add to this price
the wages of the flaxdresser, of the spinner, of the weaver, of
the bleacher, etc., together with the profits of their respective
employers.
As any particular commodity comes to be more manufactured,
that part of the price which resolves itself into wages and
profit comes to be greater in proportion to that which resolves
itself into rent. In the progress of the manufacture, not only
the number of profits increase, but every subsequent profit is
greater than the foregoing; because the capital from which it is
derived must always be greater. The capital which employs the
weavers, for example, must be greater than that which employs the
spinners; because it not only replaces that capital with its
profits, but pays, besides, the wages of the weavers; and the
profits must always bear some proportion to the capital.
In the most improved societies, however, there are always a
few commodities of which the price resolves itself into two parts
only, the wages of labour, and the profits of stock; and a still
smaller number, in which it consists altogether in the wages of
labour. In the price of sea-fish, for example, one part pays the
labour of the fishermen, and the other the profits of the capital
employed in the fishery. Rent very seldom makes any part of it,
though it does sometimes, as I shall show hereafter. It is
otherwise, at least through the greater part of Europe, in river
fisheries. A salmon fishery pays a rent, and rent, though it
cannot well be called the rent of land, makes a part of the price
of a salmon as well as wages and profit. In some parts of
Scotland a few poor people make a trade of gathering, along the
sea-shore, those little variegated stones commonly known by the
name of Scotch Pebbles. The price which is paid to them by the
stone-cutter is altogether the wages of their labour; neither
rent nor profit make any part of it.
But the whole price of any commodity must still finally
resolve itself into some one or other, or all of those three
parts; as whatever part of it remains after paying the rent of
the land, and the price of the whole labour employed in raising,
manufacturing, and bringing it to market, must necessarily be
profit to somebody.
As the price or exchangeable value of every particular
commodity, taken separately, resolves itself into some one or
other or all of those three parts; so that of all the commodities
which compose the whole annual produce of the labour of every
country, taken complexly, must resolve itself into the same three
parts, and be parcelled out among different inhabitants of the
country, either as the wages of their labour, the profits of
their stock, or the rent of their land. The whole of what is
annually either collected or produced by the labour of every
society, or what comes to the same thing, the whole price of it,
is in this manner originally distributed among some of its
different members. Wages, profit, and rent, are the three
original sources of all revenue as well as of all exchangeable
value. All other revenue is ultimately derived from some one or
other of these.
Whoever derives his revenue from a fund which is his own,
must draw it either from his labour, from his stock, or from his
land. The revenue derived from labour is called wages. That
derived from stock, by the person who manages or employes it, is
called profit. That derived from it by the person who does not
employ it himself, but lends it to another, is called the
interest or the use of money. It is the compensation which the
borrower pays to the lender, for the profit which he has an
opportunity of making by the use of the money. Part of that
profit naturally belongs to the borrower, who runs the risk and
takes the trouble of employing it; and part to the lender, who
affords him the opportunity of making this profit. The interest
of money is always a derivative revenue, which, if it is not paid
from the profit which is made by the use of the money, must be
paid from some other source of revenue, unless perhaps the
borrower is a spendthrift, who contracts a second debt in order
to pay the interest of the first. The revenue which proceeds
altogether from land, is called rent, and belongs to the
landlord. The revenue of the farmer is derived partly from his
labour, and partly from his stock. To him, land is only the
instrument which enables him to earn the wages of this labour,
and to make the profits of this stock. All taxes, and an the
revenue which is founded upon them, all salaries, pensions, and
annuities of every kind, are ultimately derived from some one or
other of those three original sources of revenue, and are paid
either immediately or mediately from the wages of labour, the
profits of stock, or the rent of land.
When those three different sorts of revenue belong to
different persons, they are readily distinguished; but when they
belong to the same they are sometimes confounded with one
another, at least in common language.
A gentleman who farms a part of his own estate, after paying
the expense of cultivation, should gain both the rent of the
landlord and the profit of the farmer. He is apt to denominate,
however, his whole gain, profit, and thus confounds rent with
profit, at least in common language. The greater part of our
North American and West Indian planters are in this situation.
They farm, the greater part of them, their own estates, and
accordingly we seldom hear of the rent of a plantation, but
frequently of its profit.
Common farmers seldom employ any overseer to direct the
general operations of the farm. They generally, too, work a good
deal with their own hands, as ploughmen, harrowers, etc. What
remains of the crop after paying the rent, therefore, should not
only replace to them their stock employed in cultivation,
together with its ordinary profits, but pay them the wages which
are due to them, both as labourers and overseers. Whatever
remains, however, after paying the rent and keeping up the stock,
is called profit. But wages evidently make a part of it. The
farmer, by saving these wages, must necessarily gain them. Wages,
therefore, are in this case confounded with profit.
An independent manufacturer, who has stock enough both to
purchase materials, and to maintain himself till he can carry his
work to market, should gain both the wages of a journeyman who
works under a master, and the profit which that master makes by
the sale of the journeyman's work. His whole gains, however, are
commonly called profit, and wages are, in this case too,
confounded with profit.
A gardener who cultivates his own garden with his own hands,
unites in his own person the three different characters of
landlord, farmer, and labourer. His produce, therefore, should
pay him the rent of the first, the profit of the second, and the
wages of the third. The whole, however, is commonly considered as
the earnings of his labour. Both rent and profit are, in this
case, confounded with wages.
As in a civilised country there are but few commodities of
which the exchangeable value arises from labour only, rent and
profit contributing largely to that of the far greater part of
them, so the annual produce of its labour will always be
sufficient to purchase or command a much greater quantity of
labour than what employed in raising, preparing, and bringing
that produce to market. If the society were annually to employ
all the labour which it can annually purchase, as the quantity of
labour would increase greatly every year, so the produce of every
succeeding year would be of vastly greater value than that of the
foregoing. But there is no country in which the whole annual
produce is employed in maintaining the industrious. The idle
everywhere consume a great part of it; and according to the
different proportions in which it is annually divided between
those two different orders of people, its ordinary or average
value must either annually increase, or diminish, or continue the
same from one year to another.
THERE is in every society or neighbourhood an ordinary or
average rate both of wages and profit in every different
employment of labour and stock. This rate is naturally regulated,
as I shall show hereafter, partly by the general circumstances of
the society, their riches or poverty, their advancing,
stationary, or declining condition; and partly by the particular
nature of each employment.
There is likewise in every society or neighbourhood an
ordinary or average rate of rent, which is regulated too, as I
shall show hereafter, partly by the general circumstances of the
society or neighbourhood in which the land is situated, and
partly by the natural or improved fertility of the land.
These ordinary or average rates may be called the natural
rates of wages, profit, and rent, at the time and place in which
they commonly prevail.
When the price of any commodity is neither more nor less
than what is sufficient to pay the rent of the land, the wages of
the labour, and the profits of the stock employed in raising,
preparing, and bringing it to market, according to their natural
rates, the commodity is then sold for what may be called its
natural price.
The commodity is then sold precisely for what it is worth,
or for what it really costs the person who brings it to market;
for though in common language what is called the prime cost of
any commodity does not comprehend the profit of the person who is
to sell it again, yet if he sell it at a price which does not
allow him the ordinary rate of profit in his neighbourhood, he is
evidently a loser by the trade; since by employing his stock in
some other way he might have made that profit. His profit,
besides, is his revenue, the proper fund of his subsistence. As,
while he is preparing and bringing the goods to market, he
advances to his workmen their wages, or their subsistence; so he
advances to himself, in the same manner, his own subsistence,
which is generally suitable to the profit which he may reasonably
expect from the sale of his goods. Unless they yield him this
profit, therefore, they do not repay him what they may very
properly be said to have really cost him.
Though the price, therefore, which leaves him this profit is
not always the lowest at which a dealer may sometimes sell his
goods, it is the lowest at which he is likely to sell them for
any considerable time; at least where there is perfect liberty,
or where he may change his trade as often as he pleases.
The actual price at which any commodity is commonly sold is
called its market price. It may either be above, or below, or
exactly the same with its natural price.
The market price of every particular commodity is regulated
by the proportion between the quantity which is actually brought
to market, and the demand of those who are willing to pay the
natural price of the commodity, or the whole value of the rent,
labour, and profit, which must be paid in order to bring it
thither. Such people may be called the effectual demanders, and
their demand the effectual demand; since it may be sufficient to
effectuate the bringing of the commodity to market. It is
different from the absolute demand. A very poor man may be said
in some sense to have a demand for a coach and six; he might like
to have it; but his demand is not an effectual demand, as the
commodity can never be brought to market in order to satisfy it.
When the quantity of any commodity which is brought to
market falls short of the effectual demand, all those who are
willing to pay the whole value of the rent, wages, and profit,
which must be paid in order to bring it thither, cannot be
supplied with the quantity which they want. Rather than want it
altogether, some of them will be willing to give more. A
competition will immediately begin among them, and the market
price will rise more or less above the natural price, according
as either the greatness of the deficiency, or the wealth and
wanton luxury of the competitors, happen to animate more or less
the eagerness of the competition. Among competitors of equal
wealth and luxury the same deficiency will generally occasion a
more or less eager competition, according as the acquisition of
the commodity happens to be of more or less importance to them.
Hence the exorbitant price of the necessaries of life during the
blockade of a town or in a famine.
When the quantity brought to market exceeds the effectual
demand, it cannot be all sold to those who are willing to pay the
whole value of the rent, wages, and profit, which must be paid in
order to bring it thither. Some part must be sold to those who
are willing to pay less, and the low price which they give for it
must reduce the price of the whole. The market price will sink
more or less below the natural price, according as the greatness
of the excess increases more or less the competition of the
sellers, or according as it happens to be more or less important
to them to get immediately rid of the commodity. The same excess
in the importation of perishable, will occasion a much greater
competition than in that of durable commodities; in the
importation of oranges, for example, than in that of old iron.
When the quantity brought to market is just sufficient to
supply the effectual demand, and no more, the market price
naturally comes to be either exactly, or as nearly as can be
judged of, the same with the natural price. The whole quantity
upon hand can be disposed of for this price, and cannot be
disposed of for more. The competition of the different dealers
obliges them all to accept of this price, but does not oblige
them to accept of less.
The quantity of every commodity brought to market naturally
suits itself to the effectual demand. It is the interest of all
those who employ their land, labour, or stock, in bringing any
commodity to market, that the quantity never should exceed the
effectual demand; and it is the interest of all other people that
it never should fall short of that demand.
If at any time it exceeds the effectual demand, some of the
component parts of its price must be paid below their natural
rate. If it is rent, the interest of the landlords will
immediately prompt them to withdraw a part of their land; and if
it is wages or profit, the interest of the labourers in the one
case, and of their employers in the other, will prompt them to
withdraw a part of their labour or stock from this employment.
The quantity brought to market will soon be no more than
sufficient to supply the effectual demand. All the different
parts of its price will rise to their natural rate, and the whole
price to its natural price.
If, on the contrary, the quantity brought to market should
at any time fall short of the effectual demand, some of the
component parts of its price must rise above their natural rate.
If it is rent, the interest of all other landlords will naturally
prompt them to prepare more land for the raising of this
commodity; if it is wages or profit, the interest of all other
labourers and dealers will soon prompt them to employ more labour
and stock in preparing and bringing it to market. The quantity
brought thither will soon be sufficient to supply the effectual
demand. All the different parts of its price will soon sink to
their natural rate, and the whole price to its natural price.
The natural price, therefore, is, as it were, the central
price, to which the prices of all commodities are continually
gravitating. Different accidents may sometimes keep them
suspended a good deal above it, and sometimes force them down
even somewhat below it. But whatever may be the obstacles which
hinder them from settling in this centre of repose and
continuance, they are constantly tending towards it.
The whole quantity of industry annually employed in order to
bring any commodity to market naturally suits itself in this
manner to the effectual demand. It naturally aims at bringing
always that precise quantity thither which may be sufficient to
supply, and no more than supply, that demand.
But in some employments the same quantity of industry will
in different years produce very different quantities of
commodities; while in others it will produce always the same, or
very nearly the same. The same number of labourers in husbandry
will, in different years, produce very different quantities of
corn, wine, oil, hops, etc. But the same number of spinners and
weavers will every year produce the same or very nearly the same
quantity of linen and woollen cloth. It is only the average
produce of the one species of industry which can be suited in any
respect to the effectual demand; and as its actual produce is
frequently much greater and frequently much less than its average
produce, the quantity of the commodities brought to market will
sometimes exceed a good deal, and sometimes fall short a good
deal, of the effectual demand. Even though that demand therefore
should continue always the same, their market price will be
liable to great fluctuations, will sometimes fall a good deal
below, and sometimes rise a good deal above their natural price.
In the other species of industry, the produce of equal quantities
of labour being always the same, or very nearly the same, it can
be more exactly suited to the effectual demand. While that demand
continues the same, therefore, the market price of the
commodities is likely to do so too, and to be either altogether,
or as nearly as can be judged of, the same with the natural
price. That the price of linen and woolen cloth is liable neither
to such frequent nor to such great variations as the price of
corn, every man's experience will inform him. The price of the
one species of commodities varies only with the variations in the
demand: that of the other varies, not only with the variations in
the demand, but with the much greater and more frequent
variations in the quantity of what is brought to market in order
to supply that demand.
The occasional and temporary fluctuations in the market
price of any commodity fall chiefly upon those parts of its price
which resolve themselves into wages and profit. That part which
resolves itself into rent is less affected by them. A rent
certain in money is not in the least affected by them either in
its rate or in its value. A rent which consists either in a
certain proportion or in a certain quantity of the rude produce,
is no doubt affected in its yearly value by all the occasional
and temporary fluctuations in the market price of that rude
produce; but it is seldom affected by them in its yearly rate. In
settling the terms of the lease, the landlord and farmer
endeavour, according to their best judgment, to adjust that rate,
not to the temporary and occasional, but to the average and
ordinary price of the produce.
Such fluctuations affect both the value and the rate either
of wages or of profit, according as the market happens to be
either overstocked or understocked with commodities or with
labour; with work done, or with work to be done. A public
mourning raises the price of black cloth (with which the market
is almost always understocked upon such occasions), and augments
the profits of the merchants who possess any considerable
quantity of it. It has no effect upon the wages of the weavers.
The market is understocked with commodities, not with labour;
with work done, not with work to be done. It raises the wages of
journeymen tailors. The market is here understocked with labour.
There is an effectual demand for more labour, for more work to be
done than can be had. It sinks the price of coloured silks and
cloths, and thereby reduces the profits of the merchants who have
any considerable quantity of them upon hand. It sinks, too, the
wages of the workmen employed in preparing such commodities, for
which all demand is stopped for six months, perhaps for a
twelvemonth. The market is here over-stocked both with
commodities and with labour.
But though the market price of every particular commodity is
in this manner continually gravitating, if one may say so,
towards the natural price, yet sometimes particular accidents,
sometimes natural causes, and sometimes particular regulations of
police, may, in many commodities, keep up the market price, for a
long time together, a good deal above the natural price.
When by an increase in the effectual demand, the market
price of some particular commodity happens to rise a good deal
above the natural price, those who employ their stocks in
supplying that market are generally careful to conceal this
change. If it was commonly known, their great profit would tempt
so many new rivals to employ their stocks in the same way that,
the effectual demand being fully supplied, the market price would
soon be reduced to the natural price, and perhaps for some time
even below it. If the market is at a great distance from the
residence of those who supply it, they may sometimes be able to
keep the secret for several years together, and may so long enjoy
their extraordinary profits without any new rivals. Secrets of
this kind, however, it must be acknowledged, can seldom be long
kept; and the extraordinary profit can last very little longer
than they are kept.
Secrets in manufactures are capable of being longer kept
than secrets in trade. A dyer who has found the means of
producing a particular colour with materials which cost only half
the price of those commonly made use of, may, with good
management, enjoy the advantage of his discovery as long as he
lives, and even leave it as a legacy to his posterity. His
extraordinary gains arise from the high price which is paid for
his private labour. They properly consist in the high wages of
that labour. But as they are repeated upon every part of his
stock, and as their whole amount bears, upon that account, a
regular proportion to it, they are commonly considered as
extraordinary profits of stock.
Such enhancements of the market price are evidently the
effects of particular accidents, of which, however, the operation
may sometimes last for many years together.
Some natural productions require such a singularity of soil
and situation that all the land in a great country, which is fit
for producing them, may not be sufficient to supply the effectual
demand. The whole quantity brought to market, therefore, may be
disposed of to those who are willing to give more than what is
sufficient to pay the rent of the land which produced them,
together with the wages of the labour, and the profits of the
stock which were employed in preparing and bringing them to
market, according to their natural rates. Such commodities may
continue for whole centuries together to be sold at this high
price; and that part of it which resolves itself into the rent of
land is in this case the part which is generally paid above its
natural rate. The rent of the land which affords such singular
and esteemed productions, like the rent of some vineyards in
France of a peculiarly happy soil and situation, bears no regular
proportion to the rent of other equally fertile and equally
well-cultivated land in its neighbourhood. The wages of the
labour and the profits of the stock employed in bringing such
commodities to market, on the contrary, are seldom out of their
natural proportion to those of the other employments of labour
and stock in their neighbourhood.
Such enhancements of the market price are evidently the
effect of natural causes which may hinder the effectual demand
from ever being fully supplied, and which may continue,
therefore, to operate for ever.
A monopoly granted either to an individual or to a trading
company has the same effect as a secret in trade or manufactures.
The monopolists, by keeping the market constantly understocked,
by never fully supplying the effectual demand, sell their
commodities much above the natural price, and raise their
emoluments, whether they consist in wages or profit, greatly
above their natural rate.
The price of monopoly is upon every occasion the highest
which can be got. The natural price, or the price of free
competition, on the contrary, is the lowest which can be taken,
not upon every occasion, indeed, but for any considerable time
together. The one is upon every occasion the highest which can be
squeezed out of the buyers, or which, it is supposed, they will
consent to give: the other is the lowest which the sellers can
commonly afford to take, and at the same time continue their
business.
The exclusive privileges of corporations, statutes of
apprenticeship, and all those laws which restrain, in particular
employments, the competition to a smaller number than might
otherwise go into them, have the same tendency, though in a less
degree. They are a sort of enlarged monopolies, and may
frequently, for ages together, and in whole classes of
employments, keep up the market price of particular commodities
above the natural price, and maintain both the wages of the
labour and the profits of the stock employed about them somewhat
above their natural rate.
Such enhancements of the market price may last as long as
the regulations of police which give occasion to them.
The market price of any particular commodity, though it may
continue long above, can seldom continue long below its natural
price. Whatever part of it was paid below the natural rate, the
persons whose interest it affected would immediately feel the
loss, and would immediately withdraw either so much land, or so
much labour, or so much stock, from being employed about it, that
the quantity brought to market would soon be no more than
sufficient to supply the effectual demand. Its market price,
therefore, would soon rise to the natural price. This at least
would be the case where there was perfect liberty.
The same statutes of apprenticeship and other corporation
laws indeed, which, when a manufacture is in prosperity, enable
the workman to raise his wages a good deal above their natural
rate, sometimes oblige him, when it decays, to let them down a
good deal below it. As in the one case they exclude many people
from his employment, so in the other they exclude him from many
employments. The effect of such regulations, however, is not near
so durable in sinking the workman's wages below, as in raising
them above their natural rate. Their operation in the one way may
endure for many centuries, but in the other it can last no longer
than the lives of some of the workmen who were bred to the
business in the time of its prosperity. When they are gone, the
number of those who are afterwards educated to the trade will
naturally suit itself to the effectual demand. The police must be
as violent as that of Indostan or ancient Egypt (where every man
was bound by a principle of religion to follow the occupation of
his father, and was supposed to commit the most horrid sacrilege
if he changed it for another), which can in any particular
employment, and for several generations together, sink either the
wages of labour or the profits of stock below their natural rate.
This is all that I think necessary to be observed at present
concerning the deviations, whether occasional or permanent, of
the market price of commodities from the natural price.
The natural price itself varies with the natural rate of
each of its component parts, of wages, profit, and rent; and in
every society this rate varies according to their circumstances,
according to their riches or poverty, their advancing,
stationary, or declining condition. I shall, in the four
following chapters, endeavour to explain, as fully and distinctly
as I can, the causes of those different variations.
First, I shall endeavour to explain what are the
circumstances which naturally determine the rate of wages, and in
what manner those circumstances are affected by the riches or
poverty, by the advancing, stationary, or declining state of the
society.
Secondly, I shall endeavour to show what are the
circumstances which naturally determine the rate of profit, and
in what manner, too, those circumstances are affected by the like
variations in the state of the society.
Though pecuniary wages and profit are very different in the
different employments of labour and stock; yet a certain
proportion seems commonly to take place between both the
pecuniary wages in all the different employments of labour, and
the pecuniary profits in all the different employments of stock.
This proportion, it will appear hereafter, depends partly upon
the nature of the different employments, and partly upon the
different laws and policy of the society in which they are
carried on. But though in many respects dependent upon the laws
and policy, this proportion seems to be little affected by the
riches or poverty of that society; by its advancing, stationary,
or declining condition; but to remain the same or very nearly the
same in all those different states. I shall, in the third place,
endeavour to explain all the different circumstances which
regulate this proportion.
In the fourth and last place, I shall endeavour to show what
are the circumstances which regulate the rent of land, and which
either raise or lower the real price of all the different
substances which it produces.
THE produce of labour constitutes the natural recompense or
wages of labour.
In that original state of things, which precedes both the
appropriation of land and the accumulation of stock, the whole
produce of labour belongs to the labourer. He has neither
landlord nor master to share with him.
Had this state continued, the wages of labour would have
augmented with all those improvements in its productive powers to
which the division of labour gives occasion. All things would
gradually have become cheaper. They would have been produced by a
smaller quantity of labour; and as the commodities produced by
equal quantities of labour would naturally in this state of
things be exchanged for one another, they would have been
purchased likewise with the produce of a smaller quantity.
But though all things would have become cheaper in reality,
in appearance many things might have become dearer than before,
or have been exchanged for a greater quantity of other goods. Let
us suppose, for example, that in the greater part of employments
the productive powers of labour had been improved to ten fold, or
that a day's labour could produce ten times the quantity of work
which it had done originally; but that in a particular employment
they had been improved, only to double, or that a day's labour
could produce only twice the quantity of work which it had done
before. In exchanging the produce of a day's labour in the
greater part of employments for that of a day's labour in this
particular one, ten times the original quantity of work in them
would purchase only twice the original quantity in it. Any
particular quantity in it, therefore, a pound weight, for
example, would appear to be five times dearer than before. In
reality, however, it would be twice as cheap. Though it required
five times the quantity of other goods to purchase it, it would
require only half the quantity of labour either to purchase or to
produce it. The acquisition, therefore, would be twice as easy as
before.
But this original state of things, in which the labourer
enjoyed the whole produce of his own labour, could not last
beyond the first introduction of the appropriation of land and
the accumulation of stock. It was at an end, therefore, long
before the most considerable improvements were made in the
productive powers of labour, and it would be to no purpose to
trace further what might have been its effects upon the
recompense or wages of labour.
As soon as land becomes private property, the landlord
demands a share of almost all the produce which the labourer can
either raise, or collect from it. His rent makes the first
deduction from the produce of the labour which is employed upon
land.
It seldom happens that the person who tills the ground has
wherewithal to maintain himself till he reaps the harvest. His
maintenance is generally advanced to him from the stock of a
master, the farmer who employs him, and who would have no
interest to employ him, unless he was to share in the produce of
his labour, or unless his stock was to be replaced to him with a
profit. This profit, makes a second deduction from the produce of
the labour which is employed upon land.
The produce of almost all other labour is liable to the like
deduction of profit. In all arts and manufactures the greater
part of the workmen stand in need of a master to advance them the
materials of their work, and their wages and maintenance till it
be completed. He shares in the produce of their labour, or in the
value which it adds to the materials upon which it is bestowed;
and in this share consists his profit.
It sometimes happens, indeed, that a single independent
workman has stock sufficient both to purchase the materials of
his work, and to maintain himself till it be completed. He is
both master and workman, and enjoys the whole produce of his own
labour, or the whole value which it adds to the materials upon
which it is bestowed. It includes what are usually two distinct
revenues, belonging to two distinct persons, the profits of
stock, and the wages of labour.
Such cases, however, are not very frequent, and in every
part of Europe, twenty workmen serve under a master for one that
is independent; and the wages of labour are everywhere understood
to be, what they usually are, when the labourer is one person,
and the owner of the stock which employs him another.
What are the common wages of labour, depends everywhere upon
the contract usually made between those two parties, whose
interests are by no means the same. The workmen desire to get as
much, the masters to give as little as possible. The former are
disposed to combine in order to raise, the latter in order to
lower the wages of labour.
It is not, however, difficult to foresee which of the two
parties must, upon all ordinary occasions, have the advantage in
the dispute, and force the other into a compliance with their
terms. The masters, being fewer in number, can combine much more
easily; and the law, besides, authorizes, or at least does not
prohibit their combinations, while it prohibits those of the
workmen. We have no acts of parliament against combining to lower
the price of work; but many against combining to raise it. In all
such disputes the masters can hold out much longer. A landlord, a
farmer, a master manufacturer, a merchant, though they did not
employ a single workman, could generally live a year or two upon
the stocks which they have already acquired. Many workmen could
not subsist a week, few could subsist a month, and scarce any a
year without employment. In the long run the workman may be as
necessary to his master as his master is to him; but the
necessity is not so immediate.
We rarely hear, it has been said, of the combinations of
masters, though frequently of those of workmen. But whoever
imagines, upon this account, that masters rarely combine, is as
ignorant of the world as of the subject. Masters are always and
everywhere in a sort of tacit, but constant and uniform
combination, not to raise the wages of labour above their actual
rate. To violate this combination is everywhere a most unpopular
action, and a sort of reproach to a master among his neighbours
and equals. We seldom, indeed, hear of this combination, because
it is the usual, and one may say, the natural state of things,
which nobody ever hears of. Masters, too, sometimes enter into
particular combinations to sink the wages of labour even below
this rate. These are always conducted with the utmost silence and
secrecy, till the moment of execution, and when the workmen
yield, as they sometimes do, without resistance, though severely
felt by them, they are never heard of by other people. Such
combinations, however, are frequently resisted by a contrary
defensive combination of the workmen; who sometimes too, without
any provocation of this kind, combine of their own accord to
raise the price of their labour. Their usual pretences are,
sometimes the high price of provisions; sometimes the great
profit which their masters make by their work. But whether their
combinations be offensive or defensive, they are always
abundantly heard of. In order to bring the point to a speedy
decision, they have always recourse to the loudest clamour, and
sometimes to the most shocking violence and outrage. They are
desperate, and act with the folly and extravagance of desperate
men, who must either starve, or frighten their masters into an
immediate compliance with their demands. The masters upon these
occasions are just as clamorous upon the other side, and never
cease to call aloud for the assistance of the civil magistrate,
and the rigorous execution of those laws which have been enacted
with so much severity against the combinations of servants,
labourers, and journeymen. The workmen, accordingly, very seldom
derive any advantage from the violence of those tumultuous
combinations, which, partly from the interposition of the civil
magistrate, partly from the necessity superior steadiness of the
masters, partly from the necessity which the greater part of the
workmen are under of submitting for the sake of present
subsistence, generally end in nothing, but the punishment or ruin
of the ringleaders.
But though in disputes with their workmen, masters must
generally have the advantage, there is, however, a certain rate
below which it seems impossible to reduce, for any considerable
time, the ordinary wages even of the lowest species of labour.
A man must always live by his work, and his wages must at
least be sufficient to maintain him. They must even upon most
occasions be somewhat more; otherwise it would be impossible for
him to bring up a family, and the race of such workmen could not
last beyond the first generation. Mr. Cantillon seems, upon this
account, to suppose that the lowest species of common labourers
must everywhere earn at least double their own maintenance, in
order that one with another they may be enabled to bring up two
children; the labour of the wife, on account of her necessary
attendance on the children, being supposed no more than
sufficient to provide for herself. But one half the children
born, it is computed, die before the age of manhood. The poorest
labourers, therefore, according to this account, must, one with
another, attempt to rear at least four children, in order that
two may have an equal chance of living to that age. But the
necessary maintenance of four children, it is supposed, may be
nearly equal to that of one man. The labour of an able-bodied
slave, the same author adds, is computed to be worth double his
maintenance; and that of the meanest labourer, he thinks, cannot
be worth less than that of an ablebodied slave. Thus far at least
seems certain, that, in order to bring up a family, the labour of
the husband and wife together must, even in the lowest species of
common labour, be able to earn something more than what is
precisely necessary for their own maintenance; but in what
proportion, whether in that above mentioned, or in any other, I
shall not take upon me to determine.
There are certain circumstances, however, which sometimes
give the labourers an advantage, and enable them to raise their
wages considerably above this rate; evidently the lowest which is
consistent with common humanity.
When in any country the demand for those who live by wages,
labourers, journeymen, servants of every kind, is continually
increasing; when every year furnishes employment for a greater
number than had been employed the year before, the workmen have
no occasion to combine in order to raise their wages. The
scarcity of hands occasions a competition among masters, who bid
against one another, in order to get workmen, and thus
voluntarily break through the natural combination of masters not
to raise wages.
The demand for those who live by wages, it is evident,
cannot increase but in proportion to the increase of the funds
which are destined for the payment of wages. These funds are of
two kinds; first, revenue which is over and above what is
necessary for the maintenance; and, secondly, the stock which is
over and above what is necessary for the employment of their
masters.
When the landlord, annuitant, or monied man, has a greater
revenue than what he judges sufficient to maintain his own
family, he employs either the whole or a part of the surplus in
maintaining one or more menial servants. Increase this surplus,
and he will naturally increase the number of those servants.
When an independent workman, such as a weaver or shoemaker,
has got more stock than what is sufficient to purchase the
materials of his own work, and to maintain himself till he can
dispose of it, he naturally employs one or more journeymen with
the surplus, in order to make a profit by their work. Increase
this surplus, and he will naturally increase the number of his
journeymen.
The demand for those who live by wages, therefore,
necessarily increases with the increase of the revenue and stock
of every country, and cannot possibly increase without it. The
increase of revenue and stock is the increase of national wealth.
The demand for those who live by wages, therefore, naturally
increases with the increase of national wealth, and cannot
possibly increase without it.
It is not the actual greatness of national wealth, but its
continual increase, which occasions a rise in the wages of
labour. It is not, accordingly, in the richest countries, but in
the most thriving, or in those which are growing rich the
fastest, that the wages of labour are highest. England is
certainly, in the present times, a much richer country than any
part of North America. The wages of labour, however, are much
higher in North America than in any part of England. In the
province of New York, common labourers earn three shillings and
sixpence currency, equal to two shillings sterling, a day; ship
carpenters, ten shillings and sixpence currency, with a pint of
rum worth sixpence sterling, equal in all to six shillings and
sixpence sterling; house carpenters and bricklayers, eight
shillings currency, equal to four shillings and sixpence
sterling; journeymen tailors, five shillings currency, equal to
about two shillings and tenpence sterling. These prices are all
above the London price; and wages are said to be as high in the
other colonies as in New York. The price of provisions is
everywhere in North America much lower than in England. A dearth
has never been known there. In the worst seasons they have always
had a sufficiency for themselves, though less for exportation. If
the money price of labour, therefore, be higher than it is
anywhere in the mother country, its real price, the real command
of the necessaries and conveniencies of life which it conveys to
the labourer must be higher in a still greater proportion.
But though North America is not yet so rich as England, it
is much more thriving, and advancing with much greater rapidity
to the further acquisition of riches. The most decisive mark of
the prosperity of any country is the increase of the number of
its inhabitants. In Great Britain, and most other European
countries, they are not supposed to double in less than five
hundred years. In the British colonies in North America, it has
been found that they double in twenty or five-and-twenty years.
Nor in the present times is this increase principally owing to
the continual importation of new inhabitants, but to the great
multiplication of the species. Those who live to old age, it is
said, frequently see there from fifty to a hundred, and sometimes
many more, descendants from their own body. Labour is there so
well rewarded that a numerous family of children, instead of
being a burthen, is a source of opulence and prosperity to the
parents. The labour of each child, before it can leave their
house, is computed to be worth a hundred pounds clear gain to
them. A young widow with four or five young children, who, among
the middling or inferior ranks of people in Europe, would have so
little chance for a second husband, is there frequently courted
as a sort of fortune. The value of children is the greatest of
all encouragements to marriage. We cannot, therefore, wonder that
the people in North America should generally marry very young.
Notwithstanding the great increase occasioned by such early
marriages, there is a continual complaint of the scarcity of
hands in North America. The demand for labourers, the funds
destined for maintaining them, increase, it seems, still faster
than they can find labourers to employ.
Though the wealth of a country should be very great, yet if
it has been long stationary, we must not expect to find the wages
of labour very high in it. The funds destined for the payment of
wages, the revenue and stock of its inhabitants, may be of the
greatest extent; but if they have continued for several centuries
of the same, or very nearly of the same extent, the number of
labourers employed every year could easily supply, and even more
than supply, the number wanted the following year. There could
seldom be any scarcity of hands, nor could the masters be obliged
to bid against one another in order to get them. The hands, on
the contrary, would, in this case, naturally multiply beyond
their employment. There would be a constant scarcity of
employment, and the labourers would be obliged to bid against one
another in order to get it. If in such a country the wages of
labour had ever been more than sufficient to maintain the
labourer, and to enable him to bring up a family, the competition
of the labourers and the interest of the masters would soon
reduce them to this lowest rate which is consistent with common
humanity. China has been long one of the richest, that is, one of
the most fertile, best cultivated, most industrious, and most
populous countries in world. It seems, however, to have been long
stationary. Marco Polo, who visited it more than five hundred
years ago, describes its cultivation, industry, and populousness,
almost in the same terms in which they are described by
travellers in the present times. It had perhaps, even long before
his time, acquired that full complement of riches which the
nature of its laws and institutions permits it to acquire. The
accounts of all travellers, inconsistent in many other respects,
agree in the low wages of labour, and in the difficulty which a
labourer finds in bringing up a family in China. If by digging
the ground a whole day he can get what will purchase a small
quantity of rice in the evening, he is contented. The condition
of artificers is, if possible, still worse. Instead of waiting
indolently in their workhouses, for the calls of their customers,
as in Europe, they are continually running about the streets with
the tools of their respective trades, offering their service, and
as it were begging employment. The poverty of the lower ranks of
people in China far surpasses that of the most beggarly nations
in Europe. In the neighbourhood of Canton many hundred, it is
commonly said, many thousand families have no habitation on the
land, but live constantly in little fishing boats upon the rivers
and canals. The subsistence which they find there is so scanty
that they are eager to fish up the nastiest garbage thrown
overboard from any European ship. Any carrion, the carcase of a
dead dog or cat, for example, though half putrid and stinking, is
as welcome to them as the most wholesome food to the people of
other countries. Marriage is encouraged in China, not by the
profitableness of children, but by the liberty of destroying
them. In all great towns several are every night exposed in the
street, or drowned like puppies in the water. The performance of
this horrid office is even said to be the avowed business by
which some people earn their subsistence.
China, however, though it may perhaps stand still, does not
seem to go backwards. Its towns are nowhere deserted by their
inhabitants. The lands which had once been cultivated are nowhere
neglected. The same or very nearly the same annual labour must
therefore continue to be performed, and the funds destined for
maintaining it must not, consequently, be sensibly diminished.
The lowest class of labourers, therefore, notwithstanding their
scanty subsistence, must some way or another make shift to
continue their race so far as to keep up their usual numbers.
But it would be otherwise in a country where the funds
destined for the maintenance of labour were sensibly decaying.
Every year the demand for servants and labourers would, in all
the different classes of employments, be less than it had been
the year before. Many who had been bred in the superior classes,
not being able to find employment in their own business, would be
glad to seek it in the lowest. The lowest class being not only
overstocked with its own workmen, but with the overflowings of
all the other classes, the competition for employment would be so
great in it, as to reduce the wages of labour to the most
miserable and scanty subsistence of the labourer. Many would not
be able to find employment even upon these hard terms, but would
either starve, or be driven to seek a subsistence either by
begging, or by the perpetration perhaps of the greatest
enormities. Want, famine, and mortality would immediately prevail
in that class, and from thence extend themselves to all the
superior classes, till the number of inhabitants in the country
was reduced to what could easily be maintained by the revenue and
stock which remained in it, and which had escaped either the
tyranny or calamity which had destroyed the rest. This perhaps is
nearly the present state of Bengal, and of some other of the
English settlements in the East Indies. In a fertile country
which had before been much depopulated, where subsistence,
consequently, should not be very difficult, and where,
notwithstanding, three or four hundred thousand people die of
hunger in one year, we may be assured that the funds destined for
the maintenance of the labouring poor are fast decaying. The
difference between the genius of the British constitution which
protects and governs North America, and that of the mercantile
company which oppresses and domineers in the East Indies, cannot
perhaps be better illustrated than by the different state of
those countries.
The liberal reward of labour, therefore, as it is the
necessary effect, so it is the natural symptom of increasing
national wealth. The scanty maintenance of the labouring poor, on
the other hand, is the natural symptom that things are at a
stand, and their starving condition that they are going fast
backwards.
In Great Britain the wages of labour seem, in the present
times, to be evidently more than what is precisely necessary to
enable the labourer to bring up a family. In order to satisfy
ourselves upon this point it will not be necessary to enter into
any tedious or doubtful calculation of what may be the lowest sum
upon which it is possible to do this. There are many plain
symptoms that the wages of labour are nowhere in this country
regulated by this lowest rate which is consistent with common
humanity.
First, in almost every part of Great Britain there is a
distinction, even in the lowest species of labour, between summer
and winter wages. Summer wages are always highest. But on account
of the extraordinary expense of fuel, the maintenance of a family
is most expensive in winter. Wages, therefore, being highest when
this expense is lowest, it seems evident that they are not
regulated by what is necessary for this expense; but by the
quantity and supposed value of the work. A labourer, it may be
said indeed, ought to save part of his summer wages in order to
defray his winter expense; and that through the whole year they
do not exceed what is necessary to maintain his family through
the whole year. A slave, however, or one absolutely dependent on
us for immediate subsistence, would not be treated in this
manner. His daily subsistence would be proportioned to his daily
necessities.
Secondly, the wages of labour do not in Great Britain
fluctuate with the price of provisions. These vary everywhere
from year to year, frequently from month to month. But in many
places the money price of labour remains uniformly the same
sometimes for half a century together. If in these places,
therefore, the labouring poor can maintain their families in dear
years, they must be at their ease in times of moderate plenty,
and in affluence in those of extraordinary cheapness. The high
price of provisions during these ten years past has not in many
parts of the kingdom been accompanied with any sensible rise in
the money price of labour. It has, indeed, in some, owing
probably more to the increase of the demand for labour than to
that of the price of provisions.
Thirdly, as the price of provisions varies more from year to
year than the wages of labour, so, on the other hand, the wages
of labour vary more from place to place than the price of
provisions. The prices of bread and butcher's meat are generally
the same or very nearly the same through the greater part of the
United Kingdom. These and most other things which are sold by
retail, the way in which the labouring poor buy all things, are
generally fully as cheap or cheaper in great towns than in the
remoter parts of the country, for reasons which I shall have
occasion to explain hereafter. But the wages of labour in a great
town and its neighbourhood are frequently a fourth or a fifth
part, twenty or five-and-twenty per cent higher than at a few
miles distance. Eighteenpence a day may be reckoned the common
price of labour in London and its neighbourhood. At a few miles
distance it falls to fourteen and fifteenpence. Tenpence may be
reckoned its price in Edinburgh and its neighbourhood. At a few
miles distance it falls to eightpence, the usual price of common
labour through the greater part of the low country of Scotland,
where it varies a good deal less than in England. Such a
difference of prices, which it seems is not always sufficient to
transport a man from one parish to another, would necessarily
occasion so great a transportation of the most bulky commodities,
not only from one parish to another, but from one end of the
kingdom, almost from one end of the world to the other, as would
soon reduce them more nearly to a level. After all that has been
said of the levity and inconstancy of human nature, it appears
evidently from experience that a man is of all sorts of luggage
the most difficult to be transported. If the labouring poor,
therefore, can maintain their families in those parts of the
kingdom where the price of labour is lowest, they must be in
affluence where it is highest.
Fourthly, the variations in the price of labour not only do
not correspond either in place or time with those in the price of
provisions, but they are frequently quite opposite.
Grain, the food of the common people, is dearer in Scotland
than in England, whence Scotland receives almost every year very
large supplies. But English corn must be sold dearer in Scotland,
the country to which it is brought, than in England, the country
from which it comes; and in proportion to its quality it cannot
be sold dearer in Scotland than the Scotch corn that comes to the
same market in competition with it. The quality of grain depends
chiefly upon the quantity of flour or meal which it yields at the
mill, and in this respect English grain is so much superior to
the Scotch that, though often dearer in appearance, or in
proportion to the measure of its bulk, it is generally cheaper in
reality, or in proportion to its quality, or even to the measure
of its weight. The price of labour, on the contrary, is dearer in
England than in Scotland. If the labouring poor, therefore, can
maintain their families in the one part of the United Kingdom,
they must be in affluence in the other. Oatmeal indeed supplies
the common people in Scotland with the greatest and the best part
of their food, which is in general much inferior to that of their
neighbours of the same rank in England. This difference, however,
in the mode of their subsistence is not the cause, but the effect
of the difference in their wages; though, by a strange
misapprehension, I have frequently heard it represented as the
cause. It is not because one man keeps a coach while his
neighbour walks afoot that the one is rich and the other poor;
but because the one is rich he keeps a coach, and because the
other is poor he walks afoot.
During the course of the last century, taking one year with
another, grain was dearer in both parts of the United Kingdom
than during that of the present. This is a matter of fact which
cannot now admit of any reasonable doubt; and the proof of it is,
if possible, still more decisive with regard to Scotland than
with regard to England. It is in Scotland supported by the
evidence of the public fiars, annual valuations made upon oath,
according to the actual state of the markets, of all the
different sorts of grain in every different county of Scotland.
If such direct proof could require any collateral evidence to
confirm it, I would observe that this has likewise been the case
in France, and probably in most other parts of Europe. With
regard to France there is the clearest proof. But though it is
certain that in both parts of the United Kingdom grain was
somewhat dearer in the last century than in the present, it is
equally certain that labour was much cheaper. If the labouring
poor, therefore, could bring up their families then, they must be
much more at their ease now. In the last century, the most usual
day-wages of common labour through the greater part of Scotland
were sixpence in summer and fivepence in winter. Three shillings
a week, the same price very nearly, still continues to be paid in
some parts of the Highlands and Western Islands. Through the
greater part of the low country the most usual wages of common
labour are now eightpence a day; tenpence, sometimes a shilling
about Edinburgh, in the counties which border upon England,
probably on account of that neighbourhood, and in a few other
places where there has lately been a considerable rise in the
demand for labour, about Glasgow, Carron, Ayrshire, etc. In
England the improvements of agriculture, manufactures, and
commerce began much earlier than in Scotland. The demand for
labour, and consequently its price, must necessarily have
increased with those improvements. In the last century,
accordingly, as well as in the present, the wages of labour were
higher in England than in Scotland. They have risen, too,
considerably since that time, though, on account of the greater
variety of wages paid there in different places, it is more
difficult to ascertain how much. In 1614, the pay of a foot
soldier was the same as in the present times, eightpence a day.
When it was first established it would naturally be regulated by
the usual wages of common labourers, the rank of people from
which foot soldiers are commonly drawn. Lord Chief Justice Hales,
who wrote in the time of Charles II, computes the necessary
expense of a labourer's family, consisting of six persons, the
father and mother, two children able to do something, and two not
able, at ten shillings a week, or twenty-six pounds a year. If
they cannot earn this by their labour, they must make it up, he
supposes, either by begging or stealing. He appears to have
inquired very carefully into this subject. In 1688, Mr. Gregory
King, whose skill in political arithmetic is so much extolled by
Doctor Davenant, computed the ordinary income of labourers and
out-servants to be fifteen pounds a year to a family, which he
supposed to consist, one with another, of three and a half
persons. His calculation, therefore, though different in
appearance, corresponds very nearly at bottom with that of Judge
Hales. Both suppose the weekly expense of such families to be
about twenty pence a head. Both the pecuniary income and expense
of such families have increased considerably since that time
through the greater part of the kingdom; in some places more, and
in some less; though perhaps scarce anywhere so much as some
exaggerated accounts of the present wages of labour have lately
represented them to the public. The price of labour, it must be
observed, cannot be ascertained very accurately anywhere,
different prices being often paid at the same place and for the
same sort of labour, not only according to the different
abilities of the workmen, but according to the easiness or
hardness of the masters. Where wages are not regulated by law,
all that we can pretend to determine is what are the most usual;
and experience seems to show that law can never regulate them
properly, though it has often pretended to do so.
The real recompense of labour, the real quantity of the
necessaries and conveniences of life which it can procure to the
labourer, has, during the course of the present century,
increased perhaps in a still greater proportion than its money
price. Not only grain has become somewhat cheaper, but many other
things from which the industrious poor derive an agreeable and
wholesome variety of food have become a great deal cheaper.
Potatoes, for example, do not at present, through the greater
part of the kingdom, cost half the price which they used to do
thirty or forty years ago. The same thing may be said of turnips,
carrots, cabbages; things which were formerly never raised but by
the spade, but which are now commonly raised by the plough. All
sort of garden stuff, too, has become cheaper. The greater part
of the apples and even of the onions consumed in Great Britain
were in the last century imported from Flanders. The great
improvements in the coarser manufactures of both linen and
woollen cloth furnish the labourers with cheaper and better
clothing; and those in the manufactures of the coarser metals,
with cheaper and better instruments of trade, as well as with
many agreeable and convenient pieces of household furniture.
Soap, salt, candles, leather, and fermented liquors have, indeed,
become a good deal dearer; chiefly from the taxes which have been
laid upon them. The quantity of these, however, which the
labouring poor are under any necessity of consuming, is so very
small, that the increase in their price does not compensate the
diminution in that of so many other things. The common complaint
that luxury extends itself even to the lowest ranks of the
people, and that the labouring poor will not now be contented
with the same food, clothing, and lodging which satisfied them in
former times, may convince us that it is not the money price of
labour only, but its real recompense, which has augmented.
Is this improvement in the circumstances of the lower ranks
of the people to be regarded as an advantage or as an
inconveniency to the society? The answer seems at first sight
abundantly plain. Servants, labourers, and workmen of different
kinds, make up the far greater part of every great political
society. But what improves the circumstances of the greater part
can never be regarded as an inconveniency to the whole. No
society can surely be flourishing and happy, of which the far
greater part of the members are poor and miserable. It is but
equity, besides, that they who feed, clothe, and lodge the whole
body of the people, should have such a share of the produce of
their own labour as to be themselves tolerably well fed, clothed,
and lodged.
Poverty, though it no doubt discourages, does not always
prevent marriage. It seems even to be favourable to generation. A
half-starved Highland woman frequently bears more than twenty
children, while a pampered fine lady is often incapable of
bearing any, and is generally exhausted by two or three.
Barrenness, so frequent among women of fashion, is very rare
among those of inferior station. Luxury in the fair sex, while it
inflames perhaps the passion for enjoyment, seems always to
weaken, and frequently to destroy altogether, the powers of
generation.
But poverty, though it does not prevent the generation, is
extremely unfavourable to the rearing of children. The tender
plant is produced, but in so cold a soil and so severe a climate,
soon withers and dies. It is not uncommon, I have been frequently
told, in the Highlands of Scotland for a mother who has borne
twenty children not to have two alive. Several officers of great
experience have assured me, that so far from recruiting their
regiment, they have never been able to supply it with drums and
fifes from all the soldiers' children that were born in it. A
greater number of fine children, however, is seldom seen anywhere
than about a barrack of soldiers. Very few of them, it seems,
arrive at the age of thirteen or fourteen. In some places one
half the children born die before they are four years of age; in
many places before they are seven; and in almost all places
before they are nine or ten. This great mortality, however, will
everywhere be found chiefly among the children of the common
people, who cannot afford to tend them with the same care as
those of better station. Though their marriages are generally
more fruitful than those of people of fashion, a smaller
proportion of their children arrive at maturity. In foundling
hospitals, and among the children brought up by parish charities,
the mortality is still greater than among those of the common
people.
Every species of animals naturally multiplies in proportion
to the means of their subsistence, and no species can ever
multiply beyond it. But in civilised society it is only among the
inferior ranks of people that the scantiness of subsistence can
set limits to the further multiplication of the human species;
and it can do so in no other way than by destroying a great part
of the children which their fruitful marriages produce.
The liberal reward of labour, by enabling them to provide
better for their children, and consequently to bring up a greater
number, naturally tends to widen and extend those limits. It
deserves to be remarked, too, that it necessarily does this as
nearly as possible in the proportion which the demand for labour
requires. If this demand is continually increasing, the reward of
labour must necessarily encourage in such a manner the marriage
and multiplication of labourers, as may enable them to supply
that continually increasing demand by a continually increasing
population. If the reward should at any time be less than what
was requisite for this purpose, the deficiency of hands would
soon raise it; and if it should at any time be more, their
excessive multiplication would soon lower it to this necessary
rate. The market would be so much understocked with labour in the
one case, and so much overstocked in the other, as would soon
force back its price to that proper rate which the circumstances
of the society required. It is in this manner that the demand for
men, like that for any other commodity, necessarily regulates the
production of men; quickens it when it goes on too slowly, and
stops it when it advances too fast. It is this demand which
regulates and determines the state of propagation in all the
different countries of the world, in North America, in Europe,
and in China; which renders it rapidly progressive in the first,
slow and gradual in the second, and altogether stationary in the
last.
The wear and tear of a slave, it has been said, is at the
expense of his master; but that of a free servant is at his own
expense. The wear and tear of the latter, however, is, in
reality, as much at the expense of his master as that of the
former. The wages paid to journeymen and servants of every kind
must be such as may enable them, one with another, to continue
the race of journeymen and servants, according as the increasing,
diminishing, or stationary demand of the society may happen to
require. But though the wear and tear of a free servant be
equally at the expense of his master, it generally costs him much
less than that of a slave. The fund destined for replacing or
repairing, if I may say so, the wear and tear of the slave, is
commonly managed by a negligent master or careless overseer. That
destined for performing the same office with regard to the free
man, is managed by the free man himself. The disorders which
generally prevail in the economy of the rich, naturally introduce
themselves into the management of the former: the strict
frugality and parsimonious attention of the poor as naturally
establish themselves in that of the latter. Under such different
management, the same purpose must require very different degrees
of expense to execute it. It appears, accordingly, from the
experience of all ages and nations, I believe, that the work done
by freemen comes cheaper in the end than that performed by
slaves. It is found to do so even at Boston, New York, and
Philadelphia, where the wages of common labour are so very high.
The liberal reward of labour, therefore, as it is the effect
of increasing wealth, so it is the cause of increasing
population. To complain of it is to lament over the necessary
effect and cause of the greatest public prosperity.
It deserves to be remarked, perhaps, that it is in the
progressive state, while the society is advancing to the further
acquisition, rather than when it has acquired its full complement
of riches, that the condition of the labouring poor, of the great
body of the people, seems to be the happiest and the most
comfortable. It is hard in the stationary, and miserable in the
declining state. The progressive state is in reality the cheerful
and the hearty state to all the different orders of the society.
The stationary is dull; the declining, melancholy.
The liberal reward of labour, as it encourages the
propagation, so it increases the industry of the common people.
The wages of labour are the encouragement of industry, which,
like every other human quality, improves in proportion to the
encouragement it receives. A plentiful subsistence increases the
bodily strength of the labourer, and the comfortable hope of
bettering his condition, and of ending his days perhaps in ease
and plenty, animates him to exert that strength to the utmost.
Where wages are high, accordingly, we shall always find the
workmen more active, diligent, and expeditious than where they
are low: in England, for example, than in Scotland; in the
neighbourhood of great towns than in remote country places. Some
workmen, indeed, when they can earn in four days what will
maintain them through the week, will be idle the other three.
This, however, is by no means the case with the greater part.
Workmen, on the contrary, when they are liberally paid by the
piece, are very apt to overwork themselves, and to ruin their
health and constitution in a few years. A carpenter in London,
and in some other places, is not supposed to last in his utmost
vigour above eight years. Something of the same kind happens in
many other trades, in which the workmen are paid by the piece, as
they generally are in manufactures, and even in country labour,
wherever wages are higher than ordinary. Almost every class of
artificers is subject to some peculiar infirmity occasioned by
excessive application to their peculiar species of work.
Ramuzzini, an eminent Italian physician, has written a particular
book concerning such diseases. We do not reckon our soldiers the
most industrious set of people among us. Yet when soldiers have
been employed in some particular sorts of work, and liberally
paid by the piece, their officers have frequently been obliged to
stipulate with the undertaker, that they should not be allowed to
earn above a certain sum every day, according to the rate at
which they were paid. Till this stipulation was made, mutual
emulation and the desire of greater gain frequently prompted them
to overwork themselves, and to hurt their health by excessive
labour. Excessive application during four days of the week is
frequently the real cause of the idleness of the other three, so
much and so loudly complained of. Great labour, either of mind or
body, continued for several days together, is in most men
naturally followed by a great desire of relaxation, which, if not
restrained by force or by some strong necessity, is almost
irresistible. It is the call of nature, which requires to be
relieved by some indulgence, sometimes of ease only, but
sometimes, too, of dissipation and diversion. If it is not
complied with, the consequences are often dangerous, and
sometimes fatal, and such as almost always, sooner or later,
brings on the peculiar infirmity of the trade. If masters would
always listen to the dictates of reason and humanity, they have
frequently occasion rather to moderate than to animate the
application of many of their workmen. It will be found, I
believe, in every sort of trade, that the man who works so
moderately as to be able to work constantly not only preserves
his health the longest, but, in the course of the year, executes
the greatest quantity of work.
In cheap years, it is pretended, workmen are generally more
idle, and in dear ones more industrious than ordinary. A
plentiful subsistence, therefore, it has been concluded, relaxes,
and a scanty one quickens their industry. That a little more
plenty than ordinary may render some workmen idle, cannot well be
doubted; but that it should have this effect upon the greater
part, or that men in general should work better when they are ill
fed than when they are well fed, when they are disheartened than
when they are in good spirits, when they are frequently sick than
when they are generally in good health, seems not very probable.
Years of dearth, it is to be observed, are generally among the
common people years of sickness and mortality, which cannot fail
to diminish the produce of their industry.
In years of plenty, servants frequently leave their masters,
and trust their subsistence to what they can make by their own
industry. But the same cheapness of provisions, by increasing the
fund which is destined for the maintenance of servants,
encourages masters, farmers especially, to employ a greater
number. Farmers upon such occasions expect more profit from their
corn by maintaining a few more labouring servants than by selling
it at a low price in the market. The demand for servants
increases, while the number of those who offer to supply that
demand diminishes. The price of labour, therefore, frequently
rises in cheap years.
In years of scarcity, the difficulty and uncertainty of
subsistence make all such people eager to return to service. But
the high price of provisions, by diminishing the funds destined
for the maintenance of servants, disposes masters rather to
diminish than to increase the number of those they have. In dear
years, too, poor independent workmen frequently consume the
little stocks with which they had used to supply themselves with
the materials of their work, and are obliged to become journeymen
for subsistence. More people want employment than can easily get
it; many are willing to take it upon lower terms than ordinary,
and the wages of both servants and journeymen frequently sink in
dear years.
Masters of all sorts, therefore, frequently make better
bargains with their servants in dear than in cheap years, and
find them more humble and dependent in the former than in the
latter. They naturally, therefore, commend the former as more
favourable to industry. Landlords and farmers, besides, two of
the largest classes of masters, have another reason for being
pleased with dear years. The rents of the one and the profits of
the other depend very much upon the price of provisions. Nothing
can be more absurd, however, than to imagine that men in general
should work less when they work for themselves, than when they
work for other people. A poor independent workman will generally
be more industrious than even a journeyman who works by the
piece. The one enjoys the whole produce of his own industry; the
other shares it with his master. The one, in his separate
independent state, is less liable to the temptations of bad
company, which in large manufactories so frequently ruin the
morals of the other. The superiority of the independent workman
over those servants who are hired by the month or by the year,
and whose wages and maintenance are the same whether they do much
or do little, is likely to be still greater. Cheap years tend to
increase the proportion of independent workmen to journeymen and
servants of all kinds, and dear years to diminish it.
A French author of great knowledge and ingenuity, Mr.
Messance, receiver of the taillies in the election of St.
Etienne, endeavours to show that the poor do more work in cheap
than in dear years, by comparing the quantity and value of the
goods made upon those different occasions in three different
manufactures; one of coarse woollens carried on at Elbeuf; one of
linen, and another of silk, both which extend through the whole
generality of Rouen. It appears from his account, which is copied
from the registers of the public offices, that the quantity and
value of the goods made in all those three manufactures has
generally been greater in cheap than in dear years; and that it
has always been greatest in the cheapest, and least in the
dearest years. All the three seem to be stationary manufactures,
or which, though their produce may vary somewhat from year to
year, are upon the whole neither going backwards nor forwards.
The manufacture of linen in Scotland, and that of coarse
woollens in the West Riding of Yorkshire, are growing
manufactures, of which the produce is generally, though with some
variations, increasing both in quantity and value. Upon
examining, however, the accounts which have been published of
their annual produce, I have not been able to observe that its
variations have had any sensible connection with the dearness or
cheapness of the seasons. In 1740, a year of great scarcity, both
manufactures, indeed, appear to have declined very considerably.
But in 1756, another year of great scarcity, the Scotch
manufacture made more than ordinary advances. The Yorkshire
manufacture, indeed, declined, and its produce did not rise to
what it had been in 1755 till 1766, after the repeal of the
American Stamp Act. In that and the following year it greatly
exceeded what it had ever been before, and it has continued to
advance ever since.
The produce of all great manufactures for distant sale must
necessarily depend, not so much upon the dearness or cheapness of
the seasons in the countries where they are carried on as upon
the circumstances which affect the demand in the countries where
they are consumed; upon peace or war, upon the prosperity or
declension of other rival manufactures, and upon the good or bad
humour of their principal customers. A great part of the
extraordinary work, besides, which is probably done in cheap
years, never enters the public registers of manufactures. The men
servants who leave their masters become independent labourers.
The women return to their parents, and commonly spin in order to
make clothes for themselves and their families. Even the
independent workmen do not always work for public sale, but are
employed by some of their neighbours in manufactures for family
use. The produce of their labour, therefore, frequently makes no
figure in those public registers of which the records are
sometimes published with so much parade, and from which our
merchants and manufacturers would often vainly pretend to
announce the prosperity or declension of the greatest empires.
Though the variations in the price of labour not only do not
always correspond with those in the price of provisions, but are
frequently quite opposite, we must not, upon this account,
imagine that the price of provisions has no influence upon that
of labour. The money price of labour is necessarily regulated by
two circumstances; the demand for labour, and the price of the
necessaries and conveniences of life. The demand for labour,
according as it happens to be increasing, stationary, or
declining, or to require an increasing, stationary, or declining
population, determines the quantity of the necessaries and
conveniencies of life which must be given to the labourer; and
the money price of labour is determined by what is requisite for
purchasing this quantity. Though the money price of labour,
therefore, is sometimes high where the price of provisions is
low, it would be still higher, the demand continuing the same, if
the price of provisions was high.
It is because the demand for labour increases in years of
sudden and extraordinary plenty, and diminishes in those of
sudden and extraordinary scarcity, that the money price of labour
sometimes rises in the one and sinks in the other.
In a year of sudden and extraordinary plenty, there are
funds in the hands of many of the employers of industry
sufficient to maintain and employ a greater number of industrious
people than had been employed the year before; and this
extraordinary number cannot always be had. Those masters,
therefore, who want more workmen bid against one another, in
order to get them, which sometimes raises both the real and the
money price of their labour.
The contrary of this happens in a year of sudden and
extraordinary scarcity. The funds destined for employing industry
are less than they had been the year before. A considerable
number of people are thrown out of employment, who bid against
one another, in order to get it, which sometimes lowers both the
real and the money price of labour. In 1740, a year of
extraordinary scarcity, many people were willing to work for bare
subsistence. In the succeeding years of plenty, it was more
difficult to get labourers and servants.
The scarcity of a dear year, by diminishing the demand for
labour, tends to lower its price, as the high price of provisions
tends to raise it. The plenty of a cheap year, on the contrary,
by increasing the demand, tends to raise the price of labour, as
the cheapness of provisions tends to lower it. In the ordinary
variations of the price of provisions those two opposite causes
seem to counterbalance one another, which is probably in part the
reason why the wages of labour are everywhere so much more steady
and permanent than the price of provisions.
The increase in the wages of labour necessarily increases
the price of many commodities, by increasing that part of it
which resolves itself into wages, and so far tends to diminish
their consumption both at home and abroad. The same cause,
however, which raises the wages of labour, the increase of stock,
tends to increase its productive powers, and to make a smaller
quantity of labour produce a greater quantity of work. The owner
of the stock which employs a great number of labourers,
necessarily endeavours, for his own advantage, to make such a
proper division and distribution of employment that they may be
enabled to produce the greatest quantity of work possible. For
the same reason, he endeavours to supply them with the best
machinery which either he or they can think of. What takes place
among the labourers in a particular workhouse takes place, for
the same reason, among those of a great society. The greater
their number, the more they naturally divide themselves into
different classes and subdivisions of employment. More heads are
occupied in inventing the most proper machinery for executing the
work of each, and it is, therefore, more likely to be invented.
There are many commodities, therefore, which, in consequence of
these improvements, come to be produced by so much less labour
than before that the increase of its price is more than
compensated by the diminution of its quantity.
THE rise and fall in the profits of stock depend upon the
same causes with the rise and fall in the wages of labour, the
increasing or declining state of the wealth of the society; but
those causes affect the one and the other very differently.
The increase of stock, which raises wages, tends to lower
profit. When the stocks of many rich merchants are turned into
the same trade, their mutual competition naturally tends to lower
its profit; and when there is a like increase of stock in all the
different trades carried on in the same society, the same
competition must produce the same effect in them all.
It is not easy, it has already been observed, to ascertain
what are the average wages of labour even in a particular place,
and at a particular time. We can, even in this case, seldom
determine more than what are the most usual wages. But even this
can seldom be done with regard to the profits of stock. Profit is
so very fluctuating that the person who carries on a particular
trade cannot always tell you himself what is the average of his
annual profit. It is affected not only by every variation of
price in the commodities which he deals in, but by the good or
bad fortune both of his rivals and of his customers, and by a
thousand other accidents to which goods when carried either by
sea or by land, or even when stored in a warehouse, are liable.
It varies, therefore, not only from year to year, but from day to
day, and almost from hour to hour. To ascertain what is the
average profit of all the different trades carried on in a great
kingdom must be much more difficult; and to judge of what it may
have been formerly, or in remote periods of time, with any degree
of precision, must be altogether impossible.
But though it may be impossible to determine, with any
degree of precision, what are or were the average profits of
stock, either in the present or in ancient times, some notion may
be formed of them from the interest of money. It may be laid down
as a maxim, that wherever a great deal can be made by the use of
money, a great deal will commonly be given for the use of it; and
that wherever little can be made by it, less will commonly be
given for it. According, therefore, as the usual market rate of
interest varies in any country, we may be assured that the
ordinary profits of stock must vary with it, must sink as it
sinks, and rise as it rises. The progress of interest, therefore,
may lead us to form some notion of the progress of profit.
By the 37th of Henry VIII all interest above ten per cent
was declared unlawful. More, it seems, had sometimes been taken
before that. In the reign of Edward VI religious zeal prohibited
all interest. This prohibition, however, like all others of the
same kind, is said to have produced no effect, and probably
rather increased than diminished the evil of usury. The statute
of Henry VIII was revived by the 13th of Elizabeth, c. 8, and ten
per cent continued to be the legal rate of interest till the 21st
of James I, when it was restricted to eight per cent. It was
reduced to six per cent soon after the Restoration, and by the
12th of Queen Anne to five per cent. All these different
statutory regulations seem to have been made with great
propriety. They seem to have followed and not to have gone before
the market rate of interest, or the rate at which people of good
credit usually borrowed. Since the time of Queen Anne, five per
cent seems to have been rather above than below the market rate.
Before the late war, the government borrowed at three per cent;
and people of good credit in the capital, and in many other parts
of the kingdom, at three and a half, four, and four and a half
per cent.
Since the time of Henry VIII the wealth and revenue of the
country have been continually advancing, and, in the course of
their progress, their pace seems rather to have been gradually
accelerated than retarded. They seem not only to have been going
on, but to have been going on faster and faster. The wages of
labour have been continually increasing during the same period,
and in the greater part of the different branches of trade and
manufactures the profits of stock have been diminishing.
It generally requires a greater stock to carry on any sort
of trade in a great town than in a country village. The great
stocks employed in every branch of trade, and the number of rich
competitors, generally reduce the rate of profit in the former
below what it is in the latter But the wages of labour are
generally higher in a great town than in a country village. In a
thriving town the people who have great stocks to employ
frequently cannot get the number of workmen they want, and
therefore bid against one another in order to get as many as they
can, which raises the wages of labour, and lowers the profits of
stock. In the remote parts of the country there is frequently not
stock sufficient to employ all the people, who therefore bid
against one another in order to get employment, which lowers the
wages of labour and raises the profits of stock.
In Scotland, though the legal rate of interest is the same
as in England, the market rate is rather higher. People of the
best credit there seldom borrow under five per cent. Even private
bankers in Edinburgh give four per cent upon their promissory
notes, of which payment either in whole or in part may be
demanded at pleasure. Private bankers in London give no interest
for the money which is deposited with them. There are few trades
which cannot be carried on with a smaller stock in Scotland than
in England. The common rate of profit, therefore, must be
somewhat greater. The wages of labour, it has already been
observed, are lower in Scotland than in England. The country,
too, is not only much poorer, but the steps by which it advances
to a better condition, for it is evidently advancing, seem to be
much slower and more tardy.
The legal rate of interest in France has not, during the
course of the present century, been always regulated by the
market rate. In 1720 interest was reduced from the twentieth to
the fiftieth penny, or from five to two per cent. In 1724 it was
raised to the thirtieth penny, or to 3 1/3 per cent. In 1725 it
was again raised to the twentieth penny, or to five per cent. In
1766, during the administration of Mr. Laverdy, it was reduced to
the twenty-fifth penny, or to four per cent. The Abbe Terray
raised it afterwards to the old rate of five per cent. The
supposed purpose of many of those violent reductions of interest
was to prepare the way for reducing that of the public debts; a
purpose which has sometimes been executed. France is perhaps in
the present times not so rich a country as England; and though
the legal rate of interest has in France frequently been lower
than in England, the market rate has generally been higher; for
there, as in other countries, they have several very safe and
easy methods of evading the law. The profits of trade, I have
been assured by British merchants who had traded in both
countries, are higher in France than in England; and it is no
doubt upon this account that many British subjects choose rather
to employ their capitals in a country where trade is in disgrace,
than in one where it is highly respected. The wages of labour are
lower in France than in England. When you go from Scotland to
England, the difference which you may remark between the dress
and countenance of the common people in the one country and in
the other sufficiently indicates the difference in their
condition. The contrast is still greater when you return from
France. France, though no doubt a richer country than Scotland,
seems not to be going forward so fast. It is a common and even a
popular opinion in the country that it is going backwards; an
opinion which, apprehend, is ill founded even with regard to
France, but which nobody can possibly entertain with regard to
Scotland, who sees the country now, and who saw it twenty or
thirty years ago.
The province of Holland, on the other hand, in proportion to
the extent of its territory and the number of its people, is a
richer country than England. The government there borrows at two
per cent, and private people of good credit at three. The wages
of labour are said to be higher in Holland than in England, and
the Dutch, it is well known, trade upon lower profits than any
people in Europe. The trade of Holland, it has been pretended by
some people, is decaying, and it may perhaps be true some
particular branches of it are so. But these symptoms seem to
indicate sufficiently that there is no general decay. When profit
diminishes, merchants are very apt to complain that trade decays;
though the diminution of profit is the natural effect of its
prosperity, or of a greater stock being employed in it than
before. During the late war the Dutch gained the whole carrying
trade of France, of which they still retain a very large share.
The great property which they possess both in the French and
English funds, about forty millions, it is said, in the latter
(in which I suspect, however, there is a considerable
exaggeration); the great sums which they lend to private people
in countries where the rate of interest is higher than in their
own, are circumstances which no doubt demonstrate the redundancy
of their stock, or that it has increased beyond what they can
employ with tolerable profit in the proper business of their own
country: but they do not demonstrate that that has decreased. As
the capital of a private man, though acquired by a particular
trade, may increase beyond what he can employ in it, and yet that
trade continue to increase too; so may likewise the capital of a
great nation.
In our North American and West Indian colonies, not only the
wages of labour, but the interest of money, and consequently the
profits of stock, are higher than in England. In the different
colonies both the legal and the market rate of interest run from
six to eight per cent. High wages of labour and high profits of
stock, however, are things, perhaps, which scarce ever go
together, except in the peculiar circumstances of new colonies. A
new colony must always for some time be more understocked in
proportion to the extent of its territory, and more underpeopled
in proportion to the extent of its stock, than the greater part
of other countries. They have more land than they have stock to
cultivate. What they have, therefore, is applied to the
cultivation only of what is most fertile and most favourably
situated, the land near the sea shore, and along the banks of
navigable rivers. Such land, too, is frequently purchased at a
price below the value even of its natural produce. Stock employed
in the purchase and improvement of such lands must yield a very
large profit, and consequently afford to pay a very large
interest. Its rapid accumulation in so profitable an employment
enables the planter to increase the number of his hands faster
than he can find them in a new settlement. Those whom he can
find, therefore, are very liberally rewarded. As the colony
increases, the profits of stock gradually diminish. When the most
fertile and best situated lands have been all occupied, less
profit can be made by the cultivation of what is inferior both in
soil and situation, and less interest can be afforded for the
stock which is so employed. In the greater part of our colonies,
accordingly, both the legal and the market rate of interest have
been considerably reduced during the course of the present
century. As riches, improvement, and population have increased,
interest has declined. The wages of labour do not sink with the
profits of stock. The demand for labour increases with the
increase of stock whatever be its profits; and after these are
diminished, stock may not only continue to increase, but to
increase much faster than before. It is with industrious nations
who are advancing in the acquisition of riches as with
industrious individuals. A great stock, though with small
profits, generally increases faster than a small stock with great
profits. Money, says the proverb, makes money. When you have got
a little, it is often easy to get more. The great difficulty is
to get that little. The connection between the increase of stock
and that of industry, or of the demand for useful labour, has
partly been explained already, but will be explained more fully
hereafter in treating of the accumulation of stock.
The acquisition of new territory, or of new branches of
trade, may sometimes raise the profits of stock, and with them
the interest of money, even in a country which is fast advancing
in the acquisition of riches. The stock of the country not being
sufficient for the whole accession of business, which such
acquisitions present to the different people among whom it is
divided, is applied to those particular branches only which
afford the greatest profit. Part of what had before been employed
in other trades is necessarily withdrawn from them, and turned
into some of the new and more profitable ones. In all those old
trades, therefore, the competition comes to be less than before.
The market comes to be less fully supplied with many different
sorts of goods. Their price necessarily rises more or less, and
yields a greater profit to those who deal in them, who can,
therefore, afford to borrow at a higher interest. For some time
after the conclusion of the late war, not only private people of
the best credit, but some of the greatest companies in London,
commonly borrowed at five per cent, who before that had not been
used to pay more than four, and four and a half per cent. The
great accession both of territory and trade, by our acquisitions
in North America and the West Indies, will sufficiently account
for this, without supposing any diminution in the capital stock
of the society. So great an accession of new business to be
carried on by the old stock must necessarily have diminished the
quantity employed in a great number of particular branches, in
which the competition being less, the profits must have been
greater. I shall hereafter have occasion to mention the reasons
which dispose me to believe that the capital stock of Great
Britain was not diminished even by the enormous expense of the
late war.
The diminution of the capital stock of the society, or of
the funds destined for the maintenance of industry, however, as
it lowers the wages of labour, so it raises the profits of stock,
and consequently the interest of money. By the wages of labour
being lowered, the owners of what stock remains in the society
can bring their goods at less expense to market than before, and
less stock being employed in supplying the market than before,
they can sell them dearer. Their goods cost them less, and they
get more for them. Their profits, therefore, being augmented at
both ends, can well afford a large interest. The great fortunes
so suddenly and so easily acquired in Bengal and the other
British settlements in the East Indies may satisfy us that, as
the wages of labour are very low, so the profits of stock are
very high in those ruined countries. The interest of money is
proportionably so. In Bengal, money is frequently lent to the
farmers at forty, fifty, and sixty per cent and the succeeding
crop is mortgaged for the payment. As the profits which can
afford such an interest must eat up almost the whole rent of the
landlord, so such enormous usury must in its turn eat up the
greater part of those profits. Before the fall of the Roman
republic, a usury of the same kind seems to have been common in
the provinces, under the ruinous administration of their
proconsuls. The virtuous Brutus lent money in Cyprus at
eight-and-forty per cent as we learn from the letters of Cicero.
In a country which had acquired that full complement of
riches which the nature of its soil and climate, and its
situation with respect to other countries, allowed it to acquire;
which could, therefore, advance no further, and which was not
going backwards, both the wages of labour and the profits of
stock would probably be very low. In a country fully peopled in
proportion to what either its territory could maintain or its
stock employ, the competition for employment would necessarily be
so great as to reduce the wages of labour to what was barely
sufficient to keep up the number of labourers, and, the country
being already fully peopled, that number could never be
augmented. In a country fully stocked in proportion to all the
business it had to transact, as great a quantity of stock would
be employed in every particular branch as the nature and extent
of the trade would admit. The competition, therefore, would
everywhere be as great, and consequently the ordinary profit as
low as possible.
But perhaps no country has ever yet arrived at this degree
of opulence. China seems to have been long stationary, and had
probably long ago acquired that full complement of riches which
is consistent with the nature of its laws and institutions. But
this complement may be much inferior to what, with other laws and
institutions, the nature of its soil, climate, and situation
might admit of. A country which neglects or despises foreign
commerce, and which admits the vessels of foreign nations into
one or two of its ports only, cannot transact the same quantity
of business which it might do with different laws and
institutions. In a country too, where, though the rich or the
owners of large capitals enjoy a good deal of security, the poor
or the owners of small capitals enjoy scarce any, but are liable,
under the pretence of justice, to be pillaged and plundered at
any time by the inferior mandarins, the quantity of stock
employed in all the different branches of business transacted
within it can never be equal to what the nature and extent of
that business might admit. In every different branch, the
oppression of the poor must establish the monopoly of the rich,
who, by engrossing the whole trade to themselves, will be able to
make very large profits. Twelve per cent accordingly is said to
be the common interest of money in China, and the ordinary
profits of stock must be sufficient to afford this large
interest.
A defect in the law may sometimes raise the rate of interest
considerably above what the condition of the country, as to
wealth or poverty, would require. When the law does not enforce
the performance of contracts, it puts all borrowers nearly upon
the same footing with bankrupts or people of doubtful credit in
better regulated countries. The uncertainty of recovering his
money makes the lender exact the same usurious interest which is
usually required from bankrupts. Among the barbarous nations who
overran the western provinces of the Roman empire, the
performance of contracts was left for many ages to the faith of
the contracting parties. The courts of justice of their kings
seldom intermeddled in it. The high rate of interest which took
place in those ancient times may perhaps be partly accounted for
from this cause.
When the law prohibits interest altogether, it does not
prevent it. Many people must borrow, and nobody will lend without
such a consideration for the use of their money as is suitable
not only to what can be made by the use of it, but to the
difficulty and danger of evading the law. The high rate of
interest among all Mahometan nations is accounted for by Mr.
Montesquieu, not from their poverty, but partly from this, and
partly from the difficulty of recovering the money.
The lowest ordinary rate of profit must always be something
more than what is sufficient to compensate the occasional losses
to which every employment of stock is exposed. It is this surplus
only which is neat or clear profit. What is called gross profit
comprehends frequently, not only this surplus, but what is
retained for compensating such extraordinary losses. The interest
which the borrower can afford to pay is in proportion to the
clear profit only.
The lowest ordinary rate of interest must, in the same
manner, be something more than sufficient to compensate the
occasional losses to which lending, even with tolerable prudence,
is exposed. Were it not more, charity or friendship could be the
only motive for lending.
In a country which had acquired its full complement of
riches, where in every particular branch of business there was
the greatest quantity of stock that could be employed in it, as
the ordinary rate of clear profit would be very small, so the
usual market rate of interest which could be afforded out of it
would be so low as to render it impossible for any but the very
wealthiest people to live upon the interest of their money. All
people of small or middling fortunes would be obliged to
superintend themselves the employment of their own stocks. It
would be necessary that almost every man should be a man of
business, or engage in some sort of trade. The province of
Holland seems to be approaching near to this state. It is there
unfashionable not to be a man of business. Necessity makes it
usual for almost every man to be so, and custom everywhere
regulates fashion. As it is ridiculous not to dress, so is it, in
some measure, not to be employed, like other people. As a man of
a civil profession seems awkward in a camp or a garrison, and is
even in some danger of being despised there, so does an idle man
among men of business.
The highest ordinary rate of profit may be such as, in the
price of the greater part of commodities, eats up the whole of
what should go to the rent of the land, and leaves only what is
sufficient to pay the labour of preparing and bringing them to
market, according to the lowest rate at which labour can anywhere
be paid, the bare subsistence of the labourer. The workman must
always have been fed in some way or other while he was about the
work; but the landlord may not always have been paid. The profits
of the trade which the servants of the East India Company carry
on in Bengal may not perhaps be very far from this rate.
The proportion which the usual market rate of interest ought
to bear to the ordinary rate of clear profit, necessarily varies
as profit rises or falls. Double interest is in Great Britain
reckoned what the merchants call a good, moderate, reasonable
profit; terms which I apprehend mean no more than a common and
usual profit. In a country where the ordinary rate of clear
profit is eight or ten per cent, it may be reasonable that one
half of it should go to interest, wherever business is carried on
with borrowed money. The stock is at the risk of the borrower,
who, as it were, insures it to the lender; and four or five per
cent may, in the greater part of trades, be both a sufficient
profit upon the risk of this insurance, and a sufficient
recompense for the trouble of employing the stock. But the
proportion between interest and clear profit might not be the
same in countries where the ordinary rate of profit was either a
good deal lower, or a good deal higher. If it were a good deal
lower, one half of it perhaps could not be afforded for interest;
and more might be afforded if it were a good deal higher.
In countries which are fast advancing to riches, the low
rate of profit may, in the price of many commodities, compensate
the high wages of labour, and enable those countries to sell as
cheap as their less thriving neighbours, among whom the wages of
labour may be lower.
In reality high profits tend much more to raise the price of
work than high wages. If in the linen manufacture, for example,
the wages of the different working people, the flax-dressers, the
spinners, the weavers, etc., should, all of them, be advanced
twopence a day; it would be necessary to heighten the price of a
piece of linen only by a number of twopences equal to the number
of people that had been employed about it, multiplied by the
number of days during which they had been so employed. That part
of the price of the commodity which resolved itself into wages
would, through all the different stages of the manufacture, rise
only in arithmetical proportion to this rise of wages. But if the
profits of all the different employers of those working people
should be raised five per cent, that part of the price of the
commodity which resolved itself into profit would, through all
the different stages of the manufacture, rise in geometrical
proportion to this rise of profit. The employer of the
flaxdressers would in selling his flax require an additional five
per cent upon the whole value of the materials and wages which he
advanced to his workmen. The employer of the spinners would
require an additional five per cent both upon the advanced price
of the flax and upon the wages of the spinners. And the employer
of the weavers would require a like five per cent both upon the
advanced price of the linen yarn and upon the wages of the
weavers. In raising the price of commodities the rise of wages
operates in the same manner as simple interest does in the
accumulation of debt. The rise of profit operates like compound
interest. Our merchants and master-manufacturers complain much of
the bad effects of high wages in raising the price, and thereby
lessening the sale of their goods both at home and abroad. They
say nothing concerning the bad effects of high profits. They are
silent with regard to the pernicious effects of their own gains.
They complain only of those of other people.
THE whole of the advantages and disadvantages of the
different employments of labour and stock must, in the same
neighbourhood, be either perfectly equal or continually tending
to equality. If in the same neighbourhood, there was any
employment evidently either more or less advantageous than the
rest, so many people would crowd into it in the one case, and so
many would desert it in the other, that its advantages would soon
return to the level of other employments. This at least would be
the case in a society where things were left to follow their
natural course, where there was perfect liberty, and where every
man was perfectly free both to choose what occupation he thought
proper, and to change it as often as he thought proper. Every
man's interest would prompt him to seek the advantageous, and to
shun the disadvantageous employment.
Pecuniary wages and profit, indeed, are everywhere in Europe
extremely different according to the different employments of
labour and stock. But this difference arises partly from certain
circumstances in the employments themselves, which, either
really, or at least in the imaginations of men, make up for a
small pecuniary gain in some, and counterbalance a great one in
others; and partly from the policy of Europe, which nowhere
leaves things at perfect liberty.
The particular consideration of those circumstances and of
that policy will divide this chapter into two parts.
PART 1 Inequalities arising
from the Nature of the Employments themselves
THE five following are the principal circumstances which, so
far as I have been able to observe, make up for a small pecuniary
gain in some employments, and counterbalance a great one in
others: first, the agreeableness or disagreeableness of the
employments themselves; secondly, the easiness and cheapness, or
the difficulty and expense of learning them; thirdly, the
constancy or inconstancy of employment in them; fourthly, the
small or great trust which must be reposed in those who exercise
them; and, fifthly, the probability or improbability of success
in them.
First, the wages of labour vary with the ease or hardship,
the cleanliness or dirtiness, the honourableness or
dishonourableness of the employment. Thus in most places, take
the year round, a journeyman tailor earns less than a journeyman
weaver. His work is much easier. A journeyman weaver earns less
than a journeyman smith. His work is not always easier, but it is
much cleanlier. A journeyman blacksmith, though an artificer,
seldom earns so much in twelve hours as a collier, who is only a
labourer, does in eight. His work is not quite so dirty, is less
dangerous, and is carried on in daylight, and above ground.
Honour makes a great part of the reward of all honourable
professions. In point of pecuniary gain, all things considered,
they are generally under-recompensed, as I shall endeavour to
show by and by. Disgrace has the contrary effect. The trade of a
butcher is a brutal and an odious business; but it is in most
places more profitable than the greater part of common trades.
The most detestable of all employments, that of public
executioner, is, in proportion to the quantity of work done,
better paid than any common trade whatever.
Hunting and fishing, the most important employments of
mankind in the rude state of society, become in its advanced
state their most agreeable amusements, and they pursue for
pleasure what they once followed from necessity. In the advanced
state of society, therefore, they are all very poor people who
follow as a trade what other people pursue as a pastime.
Fishermen have been so since the time of Theocritus. A poacher is
everywhere a very poor man in Great Britain. In countries where
the rigour of the law suffers no poachers, the licensed hunter is
not in a much better condition. The natural taste for those
employments makes more people follow them than can live
comfortably by them, and the produce of their labour, in
proportion to its quantity, comes always too cheap to market to
afford anything but the most scanty subsistence to the labourers.
Disagreeableness and disgrace affect the profits of stock in
the same manner as the wages of labour. The keeper of an inn or
tavern, who is never master of his own house, and who is exposed
to the brutality of every drunkard, exercises neither a very
agreeable nor a very creditable business. But there is scarce any
common trade in which a small stock yields so great a profit.
Secondly, the wages of labour vary with the easiness and
cheapness, or the difficulty and expense of learning the
business.
When any expensive machine is erected, the extraordinary
work to be performed by it before it is worn out, it must be
expected, will replace the capital laid out upon it, with at
least the ordinary profits. A man educated at the expense of much
labour and time to any of those employments which require
extraordinary dexterity and skill, may be compared to one of
those expensive machines. The work which he learns to perform, it
must be expected, over and above the usual wages of common
labour, will replace to him the whole expense of his education,
with at least the ordinary profits of an equally valuable
capital. It must do this, too, in a reasonable time, regard being
had to the very uncertain duration of human life, in the same
manner as to the more certain duration of the machine.
The difference between the wages of skilled labour and those
of common labour is founded upon this principle.
The policy of Europe considers the labour of all mechanics,
artificers, and manufacturers, as skilled labour; and that of all
country labourers as common labour. It seems to suppose that of
the former to be of a more nice and delicate nature than that of
the latter. It is so perhaps in some cases; but in the greater
part is it quite otherwise, as I shall endeavour to show by and
by. The laws and customs of Europe, therefore, in order to
qualify any person for exercising the one species of labour,
impose the necessity of an apprenticeship, though with different
degrees of rigour in different places. They leave the other free
and open to everybody. During the continuance of the
apprenticeship, the whole labour of the apprentice belongs to his
master. In the meantime he must, in many cases, be maintained by
his parents or relations, and in almost all cases must be clothed
by them. Some money, too, is commonly given to the master for
teaching him his trade. They who cannot give money give time, or
become bound for more than the usual number of years; a
consideration which, though it is not always advantageous to the
master, on account of the usual idleness of apprentices, is
always disadvantageous to the apprentice. In country labour, on
the contrary, the labourer, while he is employed about the
easier, learns the more difficult parts of his business, and his
own labour maintains him through all the different stages of his
employment. It is reasonable, therefore, that in Europe the wages
of mechanics, artificers, and manufacturers, should be somewhat
higher than those of common labourers. They are so accordingly,
and their superior gains make them in most places be considered
as a superior rank of people. This superiority, however, is
generally very small; the daily or weekly earnings of journeymen
in the more common sorts of manufactures, such as those of plain
linen and woollen cloth, computed at an average, are, in most
places, very little more than the day wages of common labourers.
Their employment, indeed, is more steady and uniform, and the
superiority of their earnings, taking the whole year together,
may be somewhat greater. It seems evidently, however, to be no
greater than what is sufficient to compensate the superior
expense of their education.
Education in the ingenious arts and in the liberal
professions is still more tedious and expensive. The pecuniary
recompense, therefore, of painters and sculptors, of lawyers and
physicians, ought to be much more liberal; and it is so
accordingly.
The profits of stock seem to be very little affected by the
easiness or difficulty of learning the trade in which it is
employed. All the different ways in which stock is commonly
employed in great towns seem, in reality, to be almost equally
easy and equally difficult to learn. One branch either of foreign
or domestic trade cannot well be a much more intricate business
than another.
Thirdly, the wages of labour in different occupations vary
with the constancy or inconstancy of employment.
Employment is much more constant in some trades than in
others. In the greater part of manufacturers, a journeyman may be
pretty sure of employment almost every day in the year that he is
able to work. A mason or bricklayer, on the contrary, can work
neither in hard frost nor in foul weather, and his employment at
all other times depends upon the occasional calls of his
customers. He is liable, in consequence, to be frequently without
any. What he earns, therefore, while he is employed, must not
only maintain him while he is idle, but make him some
compensation for those anxious and desponding moments which the
thought of so precarious a situation must sometimes occasion.
Where the computed earnings of the greater part of manufacturers,
accordingly, are nearly upon a level with the day wages of common
labourers, those of masons and bricklayers are generally from one
half more to double those wages. Where common labourers earn four
and five shillings a week, masons and bricklayers frequently earn
seven and eight; where the former earn six, the latter often earn
nine and ten; and where the former earn nine and ten, as in
London, the latter commonly earn fifteen and eighteen. No species
of skilled labour, however, seems more easy to learn than that of
masons and bricklayers. Chairmen in London, during the summer
season, are said sometimes to be employed as bricklayers. The
high wages of those workmen, therefore, are not so much the
recompense of their skill, as the compensation for the
inconstancy of their employment.
A house carpenter seems to exercise rather a nicer and more
ingenious trade than a mason. In most places, however, for it is
not universally so, his day-wages are somewhat lower. His
employment, though it depends much, does not depend so entirely
upon the occasional calls of his customers; and it is not liable
to be interrupted by the weather.
When the trades which generally afford constant employment
happen in a particular place not to do so, the wages of the
workmen always rise a good deal above their ordinary proportion
to those of common labour. In London almost all journeymen
artificers are liable to be called upon and dismissed by their
masters from day to day, and from week to week, in the same
manner as day-labourers in other places. The lowest order of
artificers, journeymen tailors, accordingly, earn there half a
crown a-day, though eighteenpence may be reckoned the wages of
common labour. In small towns and country villages, the wages of
journeymen tailors frequently scarce equal those of common
labour; but in London they are often many weeks without
employment, particularly during the summer.
When the inconstancy of employment is combined with the
hardship, disagreeableness and dirtiness of the work, it
sometimes raises the wages of the most common labour above those
of the most skilful artificers. A collier working by the piece is
supposed, at Newcastle, to earn commonly about double, and in
many parts of Scotland about three times the wages of common
labour. His high wages arise altogether from the hardship,
disagreeableness, and dirtiness of his work. His employment may,
upon most occasions, be as constant as he pleases. The
coal-heavers in London exercise a trade which in hardship,
dirtiness, and disagreeableness, almost equals that of colliers;
and from the unavoidable irregularity in the arrivals of
coal-ships, the employment of the greater part of them is
necessarily very inconstant. If colliers, therefore, commonly
earn double and triple the wages of common labour, it ought not
to seem unreasonable that coal-heavers should sometimes earn four
and five times those wages. In the inquiry made into their
condition a few years ago, it was found that at the rate at which
they were then paid, they could earn from six to ten shillings a
day. Six shillings are about four times the wages of common
labour in London, and in every particular trade the lowest common
earnings may always be considered as those of the far greater
number. How extravagant soever those earnings may appear, if they
were more than sufficient to compensate all the disagreeable
circumstances of the business, there would soon be so great a
number of competitors as, in a trade which has no exclusive
privilege, would quickly reduce them to a lower rate.
The constancy or inconstancy of employment cannot affect the
ordinary profits of stock in any particular trade. Whether the
stock is or is not constantly employed depends. not upon the
trade, but the trader.
Fourthly, the wages of labour vary accordingly to the small
or great trust which must be reposed in the workmen.
The wages of goldsmiths and jewellers are everywhere
superior to those of many other workmen, not only of equal, but
of much superior ingenuity, on account of the precious materials
with which they are intrusted.
We trust our health to the physician: our fortune and
sometimes our life and reputation to the lawyer and attorney.
Such confidence could not safely be reposed in people of a very
mean or low condition. Their reward must be such, therefore, as
may give them that rank in the society which so important a trust
requires. The long time and the great expense which must be laid
out in their education, when combined with this circumstance,
necessarily enhance still further the price of their labour.
When a person employs only his own stock in trade, there is
no trust; and the credit which he may get from other people
depends, not upon the nature of his trade, but upon their opinion
of his fortune, probity, and prudence. The different rates of
profit, therefore, in the different branches of trade, cannot
arise from the different degrees of trust reposed in the traders.
Fifthly, the wages of labour in different. employments vary
according to the probability or improbability of success in them.
The probability that any particular person shall ever be
qualified for the employment to which he is educated is very
different in different occupations. In the greater part of
mechanic trades, success is almost certain; but very uncertain in
the liberal professions. Put your son apprentice to a shoemaker,
there is little doubt of his learning to make a pair of shoes;
but send him to study the law, it is at least twenty to one if
ever he makes such proficiency as will enable him to live by the
business. In a perfectly fair lottery, those who draw the prizes
ought to gain all that is lost by those who draw the blanks. In a
profession where twenty fail for one that succeeds, that one
ought to gain all that should have been gained by the
unsuccessful twenty. The counsellor-at-law who, perhaps, at near
forty years of age, begins to make something by his profession,
ought to receive the retribution, not only of his own so tedious
and expensive education, but that of more than twenty others who
are never likely to make anything by it. How extravagant soever
the fees of counsellors-at-law may sometimes appear, their real
retribution is never equal to this. Compute in any particular
place what is likely to be annually gained, and what is likely to
be annually spent, by all the different workmen in any common
trade, such as that of shoemakers or weavers, and you will find
that the former sum will generally exceed the latter. But make
the same computation with regard to all the counsellors and
students of law, in all the different inns of court, and you will
find that their annual gains bear but a very small proportion to
their annual expense, even though you rate the former as high,
and the latter as low, as can well be done. The lottery of the
law, therefore, is very far from being a perfectly fair lottery;
and that, as well as many other liberal and honourable
professions, are, in point of pecuniary gain, evidently
under-recompensed.
Those professions keep their level, however, with other
occupations, and, notwithstanding these discouragements, all the
most generous and liberal spirits are eager to crowd into them.
Two different causes contribute to recommend them. First, the
desire of the reputation which attends upon superior excellence
in any of them; and, secondly, the natural confidence which every
man has more or less, not only in his own abilities, but in his
own good fortune.
To excel in any profession, in which but few arrive at
mediocrity, is the most decisive mark of what is called genius or
superior talents. The public admiration which attends upon such
distinguished abilities makes always a part of their reward; a
greater or smaller in proportion as it is higher or lower in
degree. It makes a considerable part of that reward in the
profession of physic; a still greater perhaps in that of law; in
poetry and philosophy it makes almost the whole.
There are some very agreeable and beautiful talents of which
the possession commands a certain sort of admiration; but of
which the exercise for the sake of gain is considered, whether
from reason or prejudice, as a sort of public prostitution. The
pecuniary recompense, therefore, of those who exercise them in
this manner must be sufficient, not only to pay for the time,
labour, and expense of acquiring the talents, but for the
discredit which attends the employment of them as the means of
subsistence. The exorbitant rewards of players, opera-singers,
opera-dancers, etc., are founded upon those two principles; the
rarity and beauty of the talents, and the discredit of employing
them in this manner. It seems absurd at first sight that we
should despise their persons and yet reward their talents with
the most profuse liberality. While we do the one, however, we
must of necessity do the other. Should the public opinion or
prejudice ever alter with regard to such occupations, their
pecuniary recompense would quickly diminish. More people would
apply to them, and the competition would quickly reduce the price
of their labour. Such talents, though far from being common, are
by no means so rare as is imagined. Many people possess them in
great perfection, who disdain to make this use of them; and many
more are capable of acquiring them, if anything could be made
honourably by them.
The overweening conceit which the greater part of men have
of their own abilities is an ancient evil remarked by the
philosophers and moralists of all ages. Their absurd presumption
in their own good fortune has been less taken notice of. It is,
however, if possible, still more universal. There is no man
living who, when in tolerable health and spirits, has not some
share of it. The chance of gain is by every man more or less
overvalued, and the chance of loss is by most men undervalued,
and by scarce any man, who is in tolerable health and spirits,
valued more than it is worth.
That the chance of gain is naturally overvalued, we may
learn from the universal success of lotteries. The world neither
ever saw, nor ever will see, a perfectly fair lottery; or one in
which the whole gain compensated the whole loss; because the
undertaker could make nothing by it. In the state lotteries the
tickets are really not worth the price which is paid by the
original subscribers, and yet commonly sell in the market for
twenty, thirty, and sometimes forty per cent advance. The vain
hope of gaining some of the great prizes is the sole cause of
this demand. The soberest people scarce look upon it as a folly
to pay a small sum for the chance of gaining ten or twenty
thousand pounds; though they know that even that small sum is
perhaps twenty or thirty per cent more than the chance is worth.
In a lottery in which no prize exceeded twenty pounds, though in
other respects it approached much nearer to a perfectly fair one
than the common state lotteries, there would not be the same
demand for tickets. In order to have a better chance for some of
the great prizes, some people purchase several tickets, and
others, small share in a still greater number. There is not,
however, a more certain proposition in mathematics than that the
more tickets you adventure upon, the more likely you are to be a
loser. Adventure upon all the tickets in the lottery, and you
lose for certain; and the greater the number of your tickets the
nearer you approach to this certainty.
That the chance of loss is frequently undervalued, and
scarce ever valued more than it is worth, we may learn from a
very moderate profit of insurers. In order to make insurance,
either from fire or sea-risk, a trade at all, the common premium
must be sufficient to compensate the common losses, to pay the
expense of management, and to afford such a profit as might have
been drawn from an equal capital employed in any common trade.
The person who pays no more than this evidently pays no more than
the real value of the risk, or the lowest price at which he can
reasonably expect to insure it. But though many people have made
a little money by insurance, very few have made a great fortune;
and from this consideration alone, it seems evident enough that
the ordinary balance of profit and loss is not more advantageous
in this than in other common trades by which so many people make
fortunes. Moderate, however, as the premium of insurance commonly
is, many people despise the risk too much to care to pay it.
Taking the whole kingdom at an average, nineteen houses in
twenty, or rather perhaps ninety-nine in a hundred, are not
insured from fire. Sea risk is more alarming to the greater part
of people, and the proportion of ships insured to those not
insured is much greater. Many fail, however, at all seasons, and
even in time of war, without any insurance. This may sometimes
perhaps be done without any imprudence. When a great company, or
even a great merchant, has twenty or thirty ships at sea, they
may, as it were, insure one another. The premium saved upon them
all may more than compensate such losses as they are likely to
meet with in the common course of chances. The neglect of
insurance upon shipping, however, in the same manner as upon
houses, is, in most cases, the effect of no such nice
calculation, but of mere thoughtless rashness and presumptuous
contempt of the risk.
The contempt of risk and the presumptuous hope of success
are in no period of life more active than at the age at which
young people choose their professions. How little the fear of
misfortune is then capable of balancing the hope of good luck
appears still more evidently in the readiness of the common
People to enlist as soldiers, or to go to sea, than in the
eagerness of those of better fashion to enter into what are
called the liberal professions.
What a common soldier may lose is obvious enough. Without
regarding the danger, however, young volunteers never enlist so
readily as at the beginning of a new war; and though they have
scarce any chance of preferment, they figure to themselves, in
their youthful fancies, a thousand occasions of acquiring honour
and distinction which never occur. These romantic hopes make the
whole price of their blood. Their pay is less than that of common
labourers, and in actual service their fatigues are much greater.
The lottery of the sea is not altogether so disadvantageous
as that of the army. The son of a creditable labourer or
artificer may frequently go to sea with his father's consent; but
if he enlists as a soldier, it is always without it. Other people
see some chance of his making something by the one trade: nobody
but himself sees any of his making anything by the other. The
great admiral is less the object of public admiration than the
great general, and the highest success in the sea service
promises a less brilliant fortune and reputation than equal
success in the land. The same difference runs through all the
inferior degrees of preferment in both. By the rules of
precedency a captain in the navy ranks with a colonel in the
army; but he does not rank with him in the common estimation. As
the great prizes in the lottery are less, the smaller ones must
be more numerous. Common sailors, therefore, more frequently get
some fortune and preferment than common soldiers; and the hope of
those prizes is what principally recommends the trade. Though
their skill and dexterity are much superior to that of almost any
artificers, and though their whole life is one continual scene of
hardship and danger, yet for all this dexterity and skill, for
all those hardships and dangers, while they remain in the
condition of common sailors, they receive scarce any other
recompense but the pleasure of exercising the one and of
surmounting the other. Their wages are not greater than those of
common labourers at the port which regulates the rate of seamen's
wages. As they are continually going from port to port, the
monthly pay of those who sail from all the different ports of
Great Britain is more nearly upon a level than that of any other
workmen in those different places; and the rate of the port to
and from which the greatest number sail, that is the port of
London, regulates that of all the rest. At London the wages of
the greater part of the different classes of workmen are about
double those of the same classes at Edinburgh. But the sailors
who sail from the port of London seldom earn above three or four
shillings a month more than those who sail from the port of
Leith, and the difference is frequently not so great. In time of
peace, and in the merchant service, the London price is from a
guinea to about seven-and-twenty shillings the calendar month. A
common labourer in London, at the rate of nine or ten shillings a
week, may earn in the calendar month from forty to five-and-forty
shillings. The sailor, indeed, over and above his pay, is
supplied with provisions. Their value, however, may not perhaps
always exceed the difference between his pay and that of the
common labourer; and though it sometimes should, the excess will
not be clear gain to the sailor, because he cannot share it with
his wife and family, whom he must maintain out of his wages at
home.
The dangers and hairbreadth escapes of a life of adventures,
instead of disheartening young people, seem frequently to
recommend a trade to them. A tender mother, among the inferior
ranks of people, is of afraid to send her son to school at a
seaport town, lest the sight of the ships and the conversation
and adventures of the sailors should entice him to go to sea. The
distant prospect of hazards, from which we can hope to extricate
ourselves by courage and address, is not disagreeable to us, and
does not raise the wages of labour in any employment. It is
otherwise with those in which courage and address can be of no
avail. In trades which are known to be very unwholesome, the
wages of labour are always remarkably high. Unwholesomeness is a
species of disagreeableness, and its effects upon the wages of
labour are to be ranked under that general head.
In all the different employments of stock, the ordinary rate
of profit varies more or less with the certainty or uncertainty
of the returns. These are in general less uncertain in the inland
than in the foreign trade, and in some branches of foreign trade
than in others; in the trade to North America, for example, than
in that to Jamaica. The ordinary rate of profit always rises more
or less with the risk. It does not, however, seem to rise in
proportion to it, or so as to compensate it completely.
Bankruptcies are most frequent in the most hazardous trades. The
most hazardous of all trades, that of a smuggler, though when the
adventure succeeds it is likewise the most profitable, is the
infallible road to bankruptcy. The presumptuous hope of success
seems to act here as upon all other occasions, and to entice so
many adventurers into those hazardous trades, that their
competition reduces their profit below what is sufficient to
compensate the risk. To compensate it completely, the common
returns ought, over and above the ordinary profits of stock, not
only to make up for all occasional losses, but to afford a
surplus profit to the adventurers of the same nature with the
profit of insurers. But if the common returns were sufficient for
all this, bankruptcies would not be more frequent in these than
in other trades.
Of the five circumstances, therefore, which vary the wages
of labour, two only affect the profits of stock; the
agreeableness or disagreeableness of the business, and the risk
or security with which it is attended. In point of agreeableness,
there is little or no difference in the far greater part of the
different employments of stock; but a great deal in those of
labour; and the ordinary profit of stock, though it rises with
the risk, does not always seem to rise in proportion to it. It
should follow from all this, that, in the same society or
neighbourhood, the average and ordinary rates of profit in the
different employments of stock should be more nearly upon a level
than the pecuniary wages of the different sorts of labour. They
are so accordingly. The difference between the earnings of a
common labourer and those of a well employed lawyer or physician,
is evidently much greater than that between the ordinary profits
in any two different branches of trade. The apparent difference,
besides, in the profits of different trades, is generally a
deception arising from our not always distinguishing what ought
to be considered as wages, from what ought to be considered as
profit.
Apothecaries' profit is become a bye-word, denoting
something uncommonly extravagant. This great apparent profit,
however, is frequently no more than the reasonable wages of
labour. The skill of an apothecary is a much nicer and more
delicate matter than that of any artificer whatever; and the
trust which is reposed in him is of much greater importance. He
is the physician of the poor in all cases, and of the rich when
the distress or danger is not very great. His reward, therefore,
ought to be suitable to his skill and his trust, and it arises
generally from the price at which he sells his drugs. But the
whole drugs which the best employed apothecary, in a large market
town, will sell in a year, may not perhaps cost him above thirty
or forty pounds. Though he should sell them, therefore, for three
or four hundred, or at a thousand per cent profit, this may
frequently be no more than the reasonable wages of his labour
charged, in the only way in which he can charge them, upon the
price of his drugs. The greater part of the apparent profit is
real wages disguised in the garb of profit.
In a small seaport town, a little grocer will make forty or
fifty per cent upon a stock of a single hundred pounds, while a
considerable wholesale merchant in the same place will scarce
make eight or ten per cent upon a stock of ten thousand. The
trade of the grocer may be necessary for the conveniency of the
inhabitants, and the narrowness of the market may not admit the
employment of a larger capital in the business. The man, however,
must not only live by his trade, but live by it suitably to the
qualifications which it requires. Besides possessing a little
capital, he must be able to read, write, and account, and must be
a tolerable judge too of, perhaps, fifty or sixty different sorts
of goods, their prices, qualities, and the markets where they are
to be had cheapest. He must have all the knowledge, in short,
that is necessary for a great merchant, which nothing hinders him
from becoming but the want of a sufficient capital. Thirty or
forty pounds a year cannot be considered as too great a
recompense for the labour of a person so Accomplished. Deduct
this from the seemingly great profits of his capital, and little
more will remain, perhaps, than the ordinary profits of stock.
The greater part of the apparent profit is, in this case too,
real wages.
The difference between the apparent profit of the retail and
that of the wholesale trade, is much less in the capital than in
small towns and country villages. Where ten thousand pounds can
be employed in the grocery trade, the wages of the grocer's
labour make but a very trifling addition to the real profits of
so great a stock. The apparent profits of the wealthy retailer,
therefore, are there more nearly upon a level with those of the
wholesale merchant. It is upon this account that goods sold by
retail are generally as cheap and frequently much cheaper in the
capital than in small towns and country villages. Grocery goods,
for example, are generally much cheaper; bread and butcher's meat
frequently as cheap. It costs no more to bring grocery goods to
the great town than to the country village; but it costs a great
deal more to bring corn and cattle, as the greater part of them
must be brought from a much greater distance. The prime cost of
grocery goods, therefore, being the same in both places, they are
cheapest where the least profit is charged upon them. The prime
cost of bread and butcher's meat is greater in the great town
than in the country village; and though the profit is less,
therefore, they are not always cheaper there, but often equally
cheap. In such articles as bread and butcher's meat, the same
cause, which diminishes apparent profit, increases prime cost.
The extent of the market, by giving employment to greater stocks,
diminishes apparent profit; but by requiring supplies from a
greater distance, it increases prime cost. This diminution of the
one and increase of the other seem, in most cases, nearly to
counterbalance one another, which is probably the reason that,
though the prices of corn and cattle are commonly very different
in different parts of the kingdom, those of bread and butcher's
meat are generally very nearly the same through the greater part
of it.
Though the profits of stock both in the wholesale and retail
trade are generally less in the capital than in small towns and
country villages, yet great fortunes are frequently acquired from
small beginnings in the former, and scarce ever in the latter. In
small towns and country villages, on account of the narrowness of
the market, trade cannot always be extended as stock extends. In
such places, therefore, though the rate of a particular person's
profits may be very high, the sum or amount of them can never be
very great, nor consequently that of his annual accumulation. In
great towns, on the contrary, trade can be extended as stock
increases, and the credit of a frugal and thriving man increases
much faster than his stock. His trade is extended in proportion
to the amount of both, and the sum or amount of his profits is in
proportion to the extent of his trade, and his annual
accumulation in proportion to the amount of his profits. It
seldom happens, however, that great fortunes are made even in
great towns by any one regular, established, and well-known
branch of business, but in consequence of a long life of
industry, frugality, and attention. Sudden fortunes, indeed, are
sometimes made in such places by what is called the trade of
speculation. The speculative merchant exercises no one regular,
established, or well-known branch of business. He is a corn
merchant this year, and a wine merchant the next, and a sugar,
tobacco, or tea merchant the year after. He enters into every
trade when he foresees that it is likely to be more than commonly
profitable, and he quits it when he foresees that its profits are
likely to return to the level of other trades. His profits and
losses, therefore, can bear no regular proportion to those of any
one established and well-known branch of business. A bold
adventurer may sometimes acquire a considerable fortune by two or
three successful speculations; but is just as likely to lose one
by two or three unsuccessful ones. This trade can be carried on
nowhere but in great towns. It is only in places of the most
extensive commerce and correspondence that the intelligence
requisite for it can be had.
The five circumstances above mentioned, though they occasion
considerable inequalities in the wages of labour and profits of
stock, occasion none in the whole of the advantages and
disadvantages, real or imaginary, of the different employments of
either. The nature of those circumstances is such that they make
up for a small pecuniary gain in some, and counterbalance a great
one in others.
In order, however, that this equality may take place in the
whole of their advantages or disadvantages, three things are
requisite even where there is the most perfect freedom. First,
the employments must be well known and long established in the
neighbourhood; secondly, they must be in their ordinary, or what
may be called their natural state; and, thirdly, they must be the
sole or principal employments of those who occupy them.
First, this equality can take place only in those
employments which are well known, and have been long established
in the neighbourhood.
Where all other circumstances are equal, wages are generally
higher in new than in old trades. When a projector attempts to
establish a new manufacture, he must at first entice his workmen
from other employments by higher wages than they can either earn
in their own trades, or than the nature of his work would
otherwise require, and a considerable time must pass away before
he can venture to reduce them to the common level. Manufactures
for which the demand arises altogether from fashion and fancy are
continually changing, and seldom last long enough to be
considered as old established manufactures. Those, on the
contrary, for which the demand arises chiefly from use or
necessity, are less liable to change, and the same form or fabric
may continue in demand for whole centuries together. The wages of
labour, therefore, are likely to be higher in manufactures of the
former than in those of the latter kind. Birmingham deals chiefly
in manufactures of the former kind; Sheffield in those of the
latter; and the wages of labour in those two different places are
said to be suitable to this difference in the nature of their
manufactures.
The establishment of any new manufacture, of any new branch
of commerce, or of any new practice in agriculture, is always a
speculation, from which the projector promises himself
extraordinary profits. These profits sometimes are very great,
and sometimes, more frequently, perhaps, they are quite
otherwise; but in general they bear no regular proportion to
those of other old trades in the neighbourhood. If the project
succeeds, they are commonly at first very high. When the trade or
practice becomes thoroughly established and well known, the
competition reduces them to the level of other trades.
Secondly, this equality in the whole of the advantages and
disadvantages of the different employments of labour and stock,
can take place only in the ordinary, or what may be called the
natural state of those employments.
The demand for almost every different species of labour is
sometimes greater and sometimes less than usual. In the one case
the advantages of the employment rise above, in the other they
fall below the common level. The demand for country labour is
greater at hay-time and harvest than during the greater part of
the year; and wages rise with the demand. In time of war, when
forty or fifty thousand sailors are forced from the merchant
service into that of the king, the demand for sailors to merchant
ships necessarily rises with their scarcity, and their wages upon
such occasions commonly rise from a guinea and seven-and-twenty
shillings, to forty shillings and three pounds a month. In a
decaying manufacture, on the contrary, many workmen, rather than
quit their old trade, are contented with smaller wages than would
otherwise be suitable to the nature of their employment.
The profits of stock vary with the price of the commodities
in which it is employed. As the price of any commodity rises
above the ordinary or average rate, the profits of at least some
part of the stock that is employed in bringing it to market, rise
above their proper level, and as it falls they sink below it. All
commodities are more or less liable to variations of price, but
some are much more so than others. In all commodities which are
produced by human industry, the quantity of industry annually
employed is necessarily regulated by the annual demand, in such a
manner that the average annual produce may, as nearly as
possible, be equal to the average annual consumption. In some
employments, it has already been observed, the same quantity of
industry will always produce the same, or very nearly the same
quantity of commodities. In the linen or woollen manufactures,
for example, the same number of hands will annually work up very
nearly the same quantity of linen and woollen cloth. The
variations in the market price of such commodities, therefore,
can arise only from some accidental variation in the demand. A
public mourning raises the price of black cloth. But as the
demand for most sorts of plain linen and woollen cloth is pretty
uniform, so is likewise the price. But there are other
employments in which the same quantity of industry will not
always produce the same quantity of commodities. The same
quantity of industry, for example, will, in different years,
produce very different quantities of corn, wine, hops, sugar,
tobacco, etc. The price of such commodities, therefore, varies
not only with the variations of demand, but with the much greater
and more frequent variations of quantity, and is consequently
extremely fluctuating. But the profit of some of the dealers must
necessarily fluctuate with the price of the commodities. The
operations of the speculative merchant are principally employed
about such commodities. He endeavours to buy them up when he
foresees that their price is likely to rise, and to sell them
when it is likely to fall.
Thirdly, this equality in the whole of the advantages and
disadvantages of the different employments of labour and stock
can take only in such as are the sole or principal employments of
those who occupy them.
When a person derives his subsistence from one employment,
which does not occupy the greater part of his time, in the
intervals of his leisure he is often willing to work as another
for less wages than would otherwise suit the nature of the
employment.
There still subsists in many parts of Scotland a set of
people called Cotters or Cottagers, though they were more
frequent some years ago than they are now. They are a sort of
outservants of the landlords and farmers. The usual reward which
they receive from their masters is a house, a small garden for
pot-herbs, as much grass as will feed a cow, and, perhaps, an
acre or two of bad arable land. When their master has occasion
for their labour, he gives them, besides, two pecks of oatmeal a
week, worth about sixteenpence sterling. During a great part of
the year he has little or no occasion for their labour, and the
cultivation of their own little possession is not sufficient to
occupy the time which is left at their own disposal. When such
occupiers were more numerous than they are at present, they are
said to have been willing to give their spare time for a very
small recompense to anybody, and to have wrought for less wages
than other labourers. In ancient times they seem to have been
common all over Europe. In countries ill cultivated and worse
inhabited, the greater part of landlords and farmers could not
otherwise provide themselves with the extraordinary number of
hands which country labour requires at certain season. The daily
or weekly recompense which such labourers occasionally received
from their masters was evidently not the whole price of their
labour. Their small tenement made a considerable part of it. This
daily or weekly recompense, however, seems to have been
considered as the whole of it, by many writers who have collected
the prices of labour and provisions in ancient times, and who
have taken pleasures in representing both as wonderfully low.
The produce of such labour comes frequently cheaper to
market than would otherwise suitable to its nature. Stockings in
many parts of Scotland are knit much cheaper than they can
anywhere be wrought upon the loom. They are the work of servants
and labourers, who derive the principal part of their subsistence
from some other employment. More than a thousand pair of Shetland
stockings are annually imported into Leith, of which the price is
from fivepence to sevenpence a pair. At Lerwick, the small
capital of the Shetland Islands, tenpence a day, I have been
assured, is a common price of common labour. In the same islands
they knit worsted stockings to the value of a guinea a pair and
upwards.
The spinning of linen yarn is carried on in Scotland nearly
in the same way as the knitting of stockings by servants, who are
chiefly hired for other purposes. They earn but a very scanty
subsistence, who endeavour to get their whole livelihood by
either of those trades. In most parts of Scotland she is a good
spinner who can earn twentypence a week.
In opulent countries the market is generally so extensive
that any one trade is sufficient to employ the whole labour and
stock of those who occupy it. Instances of people's living by one
employment, and at the same time deriving some little advantage
from another, occur chiefly in poor countries. The following
instance, however, of something of the same kind is to be found
in the capital of a very rich one. There is no city in Europe, I
believe, in which house-rent is dearer than in London, and yet I
know no capital in which a furnished apartment can be hired as
cheap. Lodging is not only much cheaper in London than in Paris;
it is much cheaper than in Edinburgh of the same degree of
goodness; and what may seem extraordinary, the dearness of
house-rent is the cause of the cheapness of lodging. The dearness
of house-rent in London arises not only from those causes which
render it dear in all great capitals, the dearness of labour, the
dearness of all the materials of building, which must generally
be brought from a great distance, and above all the dearness of
ground-rent, every landlord acting the part the part of a
monopolist, and frequently exacting a higher rent for a single
acre of bad land in a town than can be had for a hundred of the
best in the country; but it arises in part from the peculiar
manners and customs of the people, which oblige every master of a
family to hire a whole house from top to bottom. A dwelling-house
in England means everything that is contained under the same
roof. In France, Scotland, and many other parts of Europe, it
frequently means no more than a single story. A tradesman in
London is obliged to hire a whole house in that part of the town
where his customers live. His shop is upon the ground-floor, and
he and his family sleep in the garret; and he endeavours to pay a
part of his house-rent by letting the two middle stories to
lodgers. He expects to maintain his family by his trade, and not
by his lodgers. Whereas, at Paris and Edinburgh, the people who
let lodgings have commonly no other means of subsistence and the
price of the lodging must pay, not only the rent of the house,
but the whole expense of the family.
PART 2
Inequalities by the Policy of Europe
SUCH are the inequalities in the whole of advantages and
disadvantages of the different employments of labour and stock,
which the defect of any of the three requisites above mentioned
must occasion, even where there is the most perfect liberty. But
the policy of Europe, by not leaving things at perfect liberty,
occasions other inequalities of much greater importance.
It does this chiefly in the three following ways. First, by
restraining the competition in some employments to a smaller
number than would otherwise be disposed to enter into them;
secondly, by increasing it in others beyond what it naturally
would be; and, thirdly, by obstructing the free circulation of
labour and stock, both from employment to employment and from
place to place.
First, the policy of Europe occasions a very important
inequality in the whole of the advantages and disadvantages of
the different employments of labour and stock, by restraining the
competition in some employments to a smaller number than might
otherwise be disposed to enter into them.
The exclusive privileges of corporations are the principal
means it makes use of for this purpose.
The exclusive privilege of an incorporated trade necessarily
restrains the competition, in the town where it is established,
to those who are free of the trade. To have served an
apprenticeship in the town, under a master properly qualified, is
commonly the necessary requisite for obtaining this freedom. The
bye laws of the corporation regulate sometimes the number of
apprentices which any master is allowed to have, and almost
always the number of years which each apprentice is obliged to
serve. The intention of both regulations is to restrain the
competition to a much smaller number than might otherwise be
disposed to enter into the trade. The limitation of the number of
apprentices restrains it directly. A long term of apprenticeship
restrains it more indirectly, but as effectually, by increasing
the expense of education.
In Sheffield no master cutler can have more than one
apprentice at a time, by a bye law of the corporation. In Norfolk
and Norwich no master weaver can have more than two apprentices,
under pain of forfeiting five pounds a month to the king. No
master hatter can have more than two apprentices anywhere in
England, or in the English plantations, under pain of forfeiting
five pounds a month, half to the king and half to him who shall
sue in any court of record. Both these regulations, though they
have been confirmed by a public law of the kingdom, are evidently
dictated by the same corporation spirit which enacted the bye-law
of Sheffield. The silk weavers in London had scarce been
incorporated a year when they enacted a bye-law restraining any
master from having more than two apprentices at a time. It
required a particular Act of Parliament to rescind this bye law.
Seven years seem anciently to have been, all over Europe,
the usual term established for the duration of apprenticeships in
the greater part of incorporated trades. All such incorporations
were anciently called universities, which indeed is the proper
Latin name for any incorporation whatever. The university of
smiths, the university of tailors, etc., are expressions which we
commonly meet with in the old charters of ancient towns. When
those particular incorporations which are now peculiarly called
universities were first established, the term of years which it
was necessary to study, in order to obtain the degree of master
of arts, appears evidently to have been copied from the terms of
apprenticeship in common trades, of which the incorporations were
much more ancient. As to have wrought seven years under a master
properly qualified was necessary in order to entitle any person
to become a master, and to have himself apprenticed in a common
trade; so to have studied seven years under a master properly
qualified was necessary to entitle him to become a master,
teacher, or doctor (words anciently synonymous) in the liberal
arts, and to have scholars or apprentices (words likewise
originally synonymous) to study under him.
By the 5th of Elizabeth, commonly called the Statute of
Apprenticeship, it was enacted, that no person should for the
future exercise any trade, craft, or mystery at that time
exercised in England, unless he had previously served to it an
apprenticeship of seven years at least; and what before had been
the bye law of many particular corporations became in England the
general and public law of all trades carried on in market towns.
For though the words of the statute are very general, and seem
plainly to include the whole kingdom, by interpretation its
operation has been limited to market towns, it having been held
that in country villages a person may exercise several different
trades, though he has not served a seven years' apprenticeship to
each, they being necessary for the conveniency of the
inhabitants, and the number of people frequently not being
sufficient to supply each with a particular set of hands.
By a strict interpretation of the words, too, the operation
of this statute has been limited to those trades which were
established in England before the 5th of Elizabeth, and has never
been extended to such as have been introduced since that time.
This limitation has given occasion to several distinctions which,
considered as rules of police, appear as foolish as can well be
imagined. It has been adjudged, for example, that a coachmaker
can neither himself make nor employ journeymen to make his
coach-wheels, but must buy them of a master wheel-wright; this
latter trade having been exercised in England before the 5th of
Elizabeth. But a wheelwright, though he has never served an
apprenticeship to a coachmaker, may either himself make or employ
journeyman to make coaches; the trade of a coachmaker not being
within the statute, because not exercised in England at the time
when it was made. The manufactures of Manchester, Birmingham, and
Wolverhampton, are many of them, upon this account, not within
the statute, not having been exercised in England before the 5th
of Elizabeth.
In France, the duration of apprenticeships is different in
different towns and in different trades. In Paris, five years is
the term required in a great number; but before any person can be
qualified to exercise the trade as a master, he must, in many of
them, serve five years more as a journeyman. During this latter
term he is called the companion of his master, and the term
itself is called his companionship.
In Scotland there is no general law which regulates
universally the duration of apprenticeships. The term is
different in different corporations. Where it is long, a part of
it may generally be redeemed by paying a small fine. In most
towns, too, a very small fine is sufficient to purchase the
freedom of any corporation. The weavers of linen and hempen
cloth, the principal manufactures of the country, as well as all
other artificers subservient to them, wheel-makers, reel-makers,
etc., may exercise their trades in any town corporate without
paying any fine. In all towns corporate all persons are free to
sell butcher's meat upon any lawful day of the week. Three years
in Scotland is a common term of apprenticeship, even in some very
nice trades; and in general I know of no country in Europe in
which corporation laws are so little oppressive.
The property which every man has in his own labour, as it is
the original foundation of all other property, so it is the most
sacred and inviolable. The patrimony of a poor man lies in the
strength and dexterity of his hands; and to hinder him from
employing this strength and dexterity of his hands; and to hinder
him from employing this strength and dexterity in what manner he
thinks proper without injury to his neighbour is a plain
violation of this most sacred property. It is a manifest
encroachment upon the just liberty both of the workman and of
those who might be disposed to employ him. As it hinders the one
from working at what he thinks proper, so it hinders the others
from employing whom they think proper. To judge whether he is fit
to be employed may surely be trusted to the discretion of the
employers whose interest it so much concerns. The affected
anxiety of the law-giver lest they should employ an improper
person is evidently as impertinent as it is oppressive.
The institution of long apprenticeships can give no security
that insufficient workmanship shall not frequently be exposed to
public sale. When this is done it is generally the effect of
fraud, and not of inability; and the longest apprenticeship can
give no security against fraud. Quite different regulations are
necessary to prevent this abuse. The sterling mark upon plate,
and the stamps upon linen and woollen cloth, give the purchaser
much greater security than any statute of apprenticeship. He
generally looks at these, but never thinks it worth while to
inquire whether the workman had served a seven years'
apprenticeship.
The institution of long apprenticeships has no tendency to
form a young people to industry. A journeyman who works by the
piece is likely to be industrious, because he derives a benefit
from every exertion of his industry. An apprentice is likely to
be idle, and almost always is so, because he has no immediate
interest to be otherwise. In the inferior employments, the sweets
of labour consist altogether in the recompense of labour. They
who are soonest in a condition to enjoy the sweets of it are
likely soonest to conceive a relish for it, and to acquire the
early habit of industry. A young man naturally conceives an
aversion to labour when for a long time he receives no benefit
from it. The boys who are put out apprentices from public
charities are generally bound for more than the usual number of
years, and they generally turn out very idle and worthless.
Apprenticeships were altogether unknown to the ancients. The
reciprocal duties of master and apprentice make a considerable
article in every modern code. The Roman law is perfectly silent
with regard to them. I know no Greek or Latin word (I might
venture, I believe, to assert that there is none) which expresses
the idea we now annex to the word Apprentice, a servant bound to
work at a particular trade for the benefit of a master, during a
term of years, upon condition that the master shall teach him
that trade.
Long apprenticeships are altogether unnecessary. The arts,
which are much superior to common trades, such as those of making
clocks and watches, contain no such mystery as to require a long
course of instruction. The first invention of such beautiful
machines, indeed, and even that of some of the instruments
employed in making them, must, no doubt, have been the work of
deep thought and long time, and may justly be considered as among
the happiest efforts of human ingenuity. But when both have been
fairly invented and are well understood, to explain to any young
man, in the completest manner, how to apply the instruments and
how to construct the machines, cannot well require more than the
lessons of a few weeks: perhaps those of a few days might be
sufficient. In the common mechanic trades, those of a few days
might certainly be sufficient. The dexterity of hand, indeed,
even in common trades, cannot be acquired without much practice
and experience. But a young man would practice with much more
diligence and attention, if from the beginning he wrought as a
journeyman, being paid in proportion to the little work which he
could execute, and paying in his turn for the materials which he
might sometimes spoil through awkwardness and inexperience. His
education would generally in this way be more effectual, and
always less tedious and expensive. The master, indeed, would be a
loser. He would lose all the wages of the apprentice, which he
now saves, for seven years together. In the end, perhaps, the
apprentice himself would be a loser. In a trade so easily learnt
he would have more competitors, and his wages, when he came to be
a complete workman, would be much less than at present. The same
increase of competition would reduce the profits of the masters
as well as the wages of the workmen. The trades, the crafts, the
mysteries, would all be losers. But the public would be a gainer,
the work of all artificers coming in this way much cheaper to
market.
It is to prevent this reduction of price, and consequently
of wages and profit, by restraining that free competition which
would most certainly occasion it, that all corporations, and the
greater part of corporation laws, have been established. In order
to erect a corporation, no other authority in ancient times was
requisite in many parts of Europe, but that of the town corporate
in which it was established. In England, indeed, a charter from
the king was likewise necessary. But this prerogative of the
crown seems to have been reserved rather for extorting money from
the subject than for the defence of the common liberty against
such oppressive monopolies. Upon paying a fine to the king, the
charter seems generally to have been readily granted; and when
any particular class of artificers or traders thought proper to
act as a corporation without a charter, such adulterine guilds,
as they were called, were not always disfranchised upon that
account, but obliged to fine annually to the king for permission
to exercise their usurped privileges. The immediate inspection of
all corporations, and of the bye-laws which they might think
proper to enact for their own government, belonged to the town
corporate in which they were established; and whatever discipline
was exercised over them proceeded commonly, not from the king,
but from the greater incorporation of which those subordinate
ones were only parts or members.
The government of towns corporate was altogether in the
hands of traders and artificers, and it was the manifest interest
of every particular class of them to prevent the market from
being overstocked, as they commonly express it, with their own
particular species of industry, which is in reality to keep it
always understocked. Each class was eager to establish
regulations proper for this purpose, and, provided it was allowed
to do so, was willing to consent that every other class should do
the same. In consequence of such regulations, indeed, each class
was obliged to buy the goods they had occasion for from every
other within the town, somewhat dearer than they otherwise might
have done. But in recompense, they were enabled to sell their own
just as much dearer; so that so far it was as broad as long, as
they say; and in the dealings of the different classes within the
town with one another, none of them were losers by these
regulations. But in their dealings with the country they were all
great gainers; and in these latter dealings consists the whole
trade which supports and enriches every town.
Every town draws its whole subsistence, and all the
materials of its industry, from the country. It pays for these
chiefly in two ways: first, by sending back to the country a part
of those materials wrought up and manufactured; in which case
their price is augmented by the wages of the workmen, and the
profits of their masters or immediate employers; secondly, by
sending to it a part both of the rude and manufactured produce,
either of other countries, or of distant parts of the same
country, imported into the town; in which case, too, the original
price of those goods is augmented by the wages of the carriers or
sailors, and by the profits of the merchants who employ them. In
what is gained upon the first of those two branches of commerce
consists the advantage which the town makes by its manufactures;
in what is gained upon the second, the advantage of its inland
and foreign trade. The wages of the workmen, and the profits of
their different employers, make up the whole of what is gained
upon both. Whatever regulations, therefore, tend to increase
those wages and profits beyond what they otherwise would be, tend
to enable the town to purchase, with a smaller quantity of its
labour, the produce of a greater quantity of the labour of the
country. They give the traders and artificers in the town an
advantage over the landlords, farmers, and labourers in the
country, and break down that natural equality which would
otherwise take place in the commerce which is carried on between
them. The whole annual produce of the labour of the society is
annually divided between those two different sets of people. By
means of those regulations a greater share of it is given to the
inhabitants of the town than would otherwise fall to them; and a
less to those of the country.
The price which the town really pays for the provisions and
materials annually imported into it is the quantity of
manufactures and other goods annually exported from it. The
dearer the latter are sold, the cheaper the former are bought.
The industry of the town becomes more, and that of the country
less advantageous.
That the industry which is carried on in towns is,
everywhere in Europe, more advantageous than that which is
carried on in the country, without entering into any very nice
computations, we may satisfy ourselves by one very simple and
obvious observation. In every country of Europe we find, at
least, a hundred people who have acquired great fortunes from
small beginnings by trade and manufactures, the industry which
properly belongs to towns, for one who has done so by that which
properly belongs to the country, the raising of rude produce by
the improvement and cultivation of land. Industry, therefore,
must be better rewarded, the wages of labour and the profits of
stock must evidently be greater in the one situation than in the
other. But stock and labour naturally seek the most advantageous
employment. They naturally, therefore, resort as much as they can
to the town, and desert the country.
The inhabitants of a town, being collected into one place,
can easily combine together. The most insignificant trades
carried on in towns have accordingly, in some place or other,
been incorporated, and even where they have never been
incorporated, yet the corporation spirit, the jealousy of
strangers, the aversion to take apprentices, or to communicate
the secret of their trade, generally prevail in them, and often
teach them, by voluntary associations and agreements, to prevent
that free competition which they cannot prohibit by bye-laws. The
trades which employ but a small number of hands run most easily
into such combinations. Half a dozen wool-combers, perhaps, are
necessary to keep a thousand spinners and weavers at work. By
combining not to take apprentices they can not only engross the
employment, but reduce the whole manufacture into a sort of
slavery to themselves, and raise the price of their labour much
above what is due to the nature of their work.
The inhabitants of the country, dispersed in distant places,
cannot easily combine together. They have not only never been
incorporated, but the corporation spirit never has prevailed
among them. No apprenticeship has ever been thought necessary to
qualify for husbandry, the great trade of the country. After what
are called the fine arts, and the liberal professions, however,
there is perhaps no trade which requires so great a variety of
knowledge and experience. The innumerable volumes which have been
written upon it in all languages may satisfy us that, among the
wisest and most learned nations, it has never been regarded as a
matter very easily understood. And from all those volumes we
shall in vain attempt to collect that knowledge of its various
and complicated operations, which is commonly possessed even by
the common farmer; how contemptuously soever the very
contemptible authors of some of them may sometimes affect to
speak of him. There is scarce any common mechanic trade, on the
contrary, of which all the operations may not be as completely
and distinctly explained in a pamphlet of a very few pages, as it
is possible for words illustrated by figures to explain them. In
the history of the arts, now publishing by the French Academy of
Sciences, several of them are actually explained in this manner.
The direction of operations, besides, which must be varied with
every change of the weather, as well as with many other
accidents, requires much more judgment and discretion than that
of those which are always the same or very nearly the same.
Not only the art of the farmer, the general direction of the
operations of husbandry, but many inferior branches of country
labour require much more skin and experience than the greater
part of mechanic trades. The man who works upon brass and iron,
works with instruments and upon materials of which the temper is
always the same, or very nearly the same. But the man who ploughs
the ground with a team of horses or oxen, works with instruments
of which the health, strength, and temper, are very different
upon different occasions. The condition of the materials which he
works upon, too, is as variable as that of the instruments which
he works with, and both require to be managed with much judgment
and discretion. The common ploughman, though generally regarded
as the pattern of stupidity and ignorance, is seldom defective in
this judgment and discretion. He is less accustomed, indeed, to
social intercourse than the mechanic who lives in a town. His
voice and language are more uncouth and more difficult to be
understood by those who are not used to them. His understanding,
however, being accustomed to consider a greater variety of
objects, is generally much superior to that of the other, whose
whole attention from morning till night is commonly occupied in
performing one or two very simple operations. How much the lower
ranks of people in the country are really superior to those of
the town is well known to every man whom either business or
curiosity has led to converse much with both. In China and
Indostan accordingly both the rank and the wages of country
labourers are said to be superior to those of the greater part of
artificers and manufacturers. They would probably be so
everywhere, if corporation laws and the corporation spirit did
not prevent it.
The superiority which the industry of the towns has
everywhere in Europe over that of the country is not altogether
owing to corporations and corporation laws. It is supported by
many other regulations. The high duties upon foreign manufactures
and upon all goods imported by alien merchants, all tend to the
same purpose. Corporation laws enable the inhabitants of towns to
raise their prices, without fearing to be undersold by the free
competition of their own countrymen. Those other regulations
secure them equally against that of foreigners. The enhancement
of price occasioned by both is everywhere finally paid by the
landlords, farmers, and labourers of the country, who have seldom
opposed the establishment of such monopolies. They have commonly
neither inclination nor fitness to enter into combinations; and
the clamour and sophistry of merchants and manufacturers easily
persuade them that the private interest of a part, and of a
subordinate part of the society, is the general interest of the
whole.
In Great Britain the superiority of the industry of the
towns over that of the country seems to have been greater
formerly than in the present times. The wages of country labour
approach nearer to those of manufacturing labour, and the profits
of stock employed in agriculture to those of trading and
manufacturing stock, than they are said to have done in the last
century, or in the beginning of the present. This change may be
regarded as the necessary, though very late consequence of the
extraordinary encouragement given to the industry of the towns.
The stock accumulated in them comes in time to be so great that
it can no longer be employed with the ancient profit in that
species of industry which is peculiar to them. That industry has
its limits like every other; and the increase of stock, by
increasing the competition, necessarily reduces the profit. The
lowering of profit in the town forces out stock to the country,
where, by creating a new demand for country labour, it
necessarily raises its wages. It then spreads itself, if I may
say so, over the face of the land, and by being employed in
agriculture is in part restored to the country, at the expense of
which, in a great measure, it had originally been accumulated in
the town. That everywhere in Europe the greatest improvements of
the country have been owing to such overflowings of the stock
originally accumulated in the towns, I shall endeavour to show
hereafter; and at the same time to demonstrate that, though some
countries have by this course attained to a considerable degree
of opulence, it is in itself necessarily slow, uncertain, liable
to be disturbed and interrupted by innumerable accidents, and in
every respect contrary to the order of nature and of reason. The
interests, prejudices, laws and customs, which have given
occasion to it, I shall endeavour to explain as fully and
distinctly as I can in the third and fourth books of this
Inquiry.
People of the same trade seldom meet together, even for
merriment and diversion, but the conversation ends in a
conspiracy against the public, or in some contrivance to raise
prices. It is impossible indeed to prevent such meetings, by any
law which either could be executed, or would be consistent with
liberty and justice. But though the law cannot hinder people of
the same trade from sometimes assembling together, it ought to do
nothing to facilitate such assemblies, much less to render them
necessary.
A regulation which obliges all those of the same trade in a
particular town to enter their names and places of abode in a
public register, facilitates such assemblies. It connects
individuals who might never otherwise be known to one another,
and gives every man of the trade a direction where to find every
other man of it.
A regulation which enables those of the same trade to tax
themselves in order to provide for their poor, their sick, their
widows and orphans, by giving them a common interest to manage,
renders such assemblies necessary.
An incorporation not only renders them necessary, but makes
the act of the majority binding upon the whole. In a free trade
an effectual combination cannot be established but by the
unanimous consent of every single trader, and it cannot last
longer than every single trader continues of the same mind. The
majority of a corporation can enact a bye-law with proper
penalties, which will limit the competition more effectually and
more durably than any voluntary combination whatever.
The pretence that corporations are necessary for the better
government of the trade is without any foundation. The real and
effectual discipline which is exercised over a workman is not
that of his corporation, but that of his customers. It is the
fear of losing their employment which restrains his frauds and
corrects his negligence. An exclusive corporation necessarily
weakens the force of this discipline. A particular set of workmen
must then be employed, let them behave well or ill. It is upon
this account that in many large incorporated towns no tolerable
workmen are to be found, even in some of the most necessary
trades. If you would have your work tolerably executed, it must
be done in the suburbs, where the workmen, having no exclusive
privilege, have nothing but their character to depend upon, and
you must then smuggle it into the town as well as you can.
It is in this manner that the policy of Europe, by
restraining the competition in some employments to a smaller
number than would otherwise be disposed to enter into them,
occasions a very important inequality in the whole of the
advantages and disadvantages of the different employments of
labour and stock.
Secondly, the policy of Europe, by increasing the
competition in some employments beyond what it naturally would
be, occasions another inequality of an opposite kind in the whole
of the advantages and disadvantages of the different employments
of labour and stock.
It has been considered as of so much importance that a
proper number of young people should be educated for certain
professions, that sometimes the public and sometimes the piety of
private founders have established many pensions, scholarships,
exhibitions, bursaries, etc., for this purpose, which draw many
more people into those trades than could otherwise pretend to
follow them. In all Christian countries, I believe, the education
of the greater part of churchmen is paid for in this manner. Very
few of them are educated altogether at their own expense. The
long, tedious, and expensive education, therefore, of those who
are, will not always procure them a suitable reward, the church
being crowded with people who, in order to get employment, are
willing to accept of a much smaller recompense than what such an
education would otherwise have entitled them to; and in this
manner the competition of the poor takes away the reward of the
rich. It would be indecent, no doubt, to compare either a curate
or a chaplain with a journeyman in any common trade. The pay of a
curate or chaplain, however, may very properly be considered as
of the same nature with the wages of a journeyman. They are, all
three, paid for their work according to the contract which they
may happen to make with their respective superiors. Till after
the middle of the fourteenth century, five merks, containing
about as much silver as ten pounds of our present money, was in
England the usual pay of a curate or a stipendiary parish priest,
as we find it regulated by the decrees of several different
national councils. At the same period fourpence a day, containing
the same quantity of silver as a shilling of our present money,
was declared to be the pay of a master mason, and threepence a
day, equal to ninepence of our present money, that of a
journeyman mason. The wages of both these labourers, therefore,
supposing them to have been constantly employed, were much
superior to those of the curate. The wages of the master mason,
supposing him to have been without employment one third of the
year, would have fully equalled them. By the 12th of Queen Anne,
c. 12, it is declared, "That whereas for want of sufficient
maintenance and encouragement to curates, the cures have in
several places been meanly supplied, the bishop is, therefore,
empowered to appoint by writing under his band and seal a
sufficient certain stipend or allowance, not exceeding fifty and
not less than twenty pounds a year." Forty pounds a year is
reckoned at present very good pay for a curate, and
notwithstanding this Act of Parliament there are many curacies
under twenty pounds a year. There are journeymen shoemakers in
London who earn forty pounds a year, and there is scarce an
industrious workman of any kind in that metropolis who does not
earn more than twenty. This last sum indeed does not exceed what
is frequently earned by common labourers in many country
parishes. Whenever the law has attempted to regulate the wages of
workmen, it has always been rather to lower them than to raise
them. But the law has upon many occasions attempted to raise the
wages of curates, and for the dignity of the church, to oblige
the rectors of parishes to give them more than the wretched
maintenance which they themselves might be willing to accept of.
And in both cases the law seems to have been equally ineffectual,
and has never either been able to raise the wages of curates, or
to sink those of labourers to the degree that was intended;
because it has never been able to hinder either the one from
being willing to accept of less than the legal allowance, on
account of the indigence of their situation and the multitude of
their competitors; or the other from receiving more, on account
of the contrary competition of those who expected to derive
either profit or pleasure from employing them.
The great benefices and other ecclesiastical dignities
support the honour of the church, notwithstanding the mean
circumstance of some of its inferior members. The respect paid to
the profession, too, makes some compensation even to them for the
meanness of their pecuniary recompense. In England, and in all
Roman Catholic countries, the lottery of the church is in reality
much more advantageous than is necessary. The example of the
churches of Scotland, of Geneva, and of several other Protestant
churches, may satisfy us that in so creditable a profession, in
which education is so easily procured, the hopes of much more
moderate benefices will draw a sufficient number of learned,
decent, and respectable men into holy orders.
In professions in which there are no benefices, such as law
and physic, if an equal proportion of people were educated at the
public expense, the competition would soon be so great as to sink
very much their pecuniary reward. It might then not be worth any
man's while to educate his son to either of those professions at
his own expense. They would be entirely abandoned to such as had
been educated by those public charities, whose numbers and
necessities would oblige them in general to content themselves
with a very miserable recompense, to the entire degradation of
the now respectable professions of law and physic.
That unprosperous race of men commonly called men of letters
are pretty much in the situation which lawyers and physicians
probably would be in upon the foregoing supposition. In every
part of Europe the greater part of them have been educated for
the church, but have been hindered by different reasons from
entering into holy orders. They have generally, therefore, been
educated at the public expense, and their numbers are everywhere
so great as commonly to reduce the price of their labour to a
very paltry recompense.
Before the invention of the art of printing, the only
employment by which a man of letters could make anything by his
talents was that of a public or private teacher, or by
communicating to other people the curious and useful knowledge
which he had acquired himself: and this is still surely a more
honourable, a more useful, and in general even a more profitable
employment than that other of writing for a bookseller, to which
the art of printing has given occasion. The time and study, the
genius, knowledge, and application requisite to qualify an
eminent teacher of the sciences, are at least equal to what is
necessary for the greatest practitioners in law and physic. But
the usual reward of the eminent teacher bears no proportion to
that of the lawyer or physician; because the trade of the one is
crowded with indigent people who have been brought up to it at
the public expense; whereas those of the other two are encumbered
with very few who have not been educated at their own. The usual
recompense, however, of public and private teachers, small as it
may appear, would undoubtedly be less than it is, if the
competition of those yet more indigent men of letters who write
for bread was not taken out of the market. Before the invention
of the art of printing, a scholar and a beggar seem to have been
terms very nearly synonymous. The different governors of the
universities before that time appear to have often granted
licences to their scholars to beg.
In ancient times, before any charities of this kind had been
established for the education of indigent people to the learned
professions, the rewards of eminent teachers appear to have been
much more considerable. Isocrates, in what is called his
discourse against the sophists, reproaches the teachers of his
own times with inconsistency. "They make the most magnificent
promises to their scholars," says he, "and undertake to teach
them to be wise, to be happy, and to be just, and in return for
so important a service they stipulate the paltry reward of four
or five minae. They who teach wisdom," continues he, ought
certainly to be wise themselves; but if any man were to sell such
a bargain for such a price, he would be convicted of the most
evident folly." He certainly does not mean here to exaggerate the
reward, and we may be assured that it was not less than he
represents it. Four minae were equal to thirteen pounds six
shillings and eightpence: five minae to sixteen pounds thirteen
shillings and fourpence. Something not less than the largest of
those two sums, therefore, must at that time have been usually
paid to the most eminent teachers at Athens. Isocrates himself
demanded ten minae, or thirty-three pounds six shillings and
eightpence, from each scholar. When he taught at Athens, he is
said to have had a hundred scholars. I understand this to be the
number whom he taught at one time, or who attended what we could
call one course of lectures, a number which will not appear
extraordinary from so great a city to so famous a teacher, who
taught, too, what was at that time the most fashionable of all
sciences, rhetoric. He must have made, therefore, by each course
of lectures, a thousand minae, or L3333 6s. 8d. A thousand minae,
accordingly, is said by Plutarch in another place, to have been
his Didactron, or usual price of teaching. Many other eminent
teachers in those times appear to have acquired great fortunes.
Gorgias made a present to the temple of Delphi of his own statue
in solid gold. We must not, I presume, suppose that it was as
large as the life. His way of living, as well as that of Hippias
and Protagoras, two other eminent teachers of those times, is
represented by Plato as splendid even to ostentation. Plato
himself is said to have lived with a good deal of magnificence.
Aristotle, after having been tutor to Alexander, and most
munificently rewarded, as it is universally agreed, both by him
and his father Philip, thought it worth while, notwithstanding,
to return to Athens, in order to resume the teaching of his
school. Teachers of the sciences were probably in those times
less common than they came to be in an age or two afterwards,
when the competition had probably somewhat reduced both the price
of their labour and the admiration for their persons. The most
eminent of them, however, appear always to have enjoyed a degree
of consideration much superior to any of the like profession in
the present times. The Athenians sent Carneades the Academic, and
Diogenes the Stoic, upon a solemn embassy to Rome; and though
their city had then declined from its former grandeur, it was
still an independent and considerable republic. Carneades, too,
was a Babylonian by birth, and as there never was a people more
jealous of admitting foreigners to public offices than the
Athenians, their consideration for him must have been very great.
This inequality is upon the whole, perhaps, rather
advantageous than hurtful to the public. It may somewhat degrade
the profession of a public teacher; but the cheapness of literary
education is surely an advantage which greatly overbalances this
trifling inconveniency. The public, too, might derive still
greater benefit from it, if the constitution of those schools and
colleges, in which education is carried on, was more reasonable
than it is at present through the greater part of Europe.
Thirdly, the policy of Europe, by obstructing the free
circulation of labour and stock both from employment to
employment, and from place to place, occasions in some cases a
very incovenient inequality in the whole of the advantages and
disadvantages of their different employments.
The Statute of Apprenticeship obstructs the free circulation
of labour from one employment to another, even in the same place.
The exclusive privileges of corporations obstruct it from one
place to another, even in the same employment.
It frequently happens that while high wages are given to the
workmen in one manufacture, those in another are obliged to
content themselves with bare subsistence. The one is in an
advancing state, and has, therefore, a continual demand for new
bands: the other is in a declining state, and the superabundance
of hands is continually increasing. Those two manufactures may
sometimes be in the same town, and sometimes in the same
neighbourhood, without being able to lend the least assistance to
one another. The Statute of Apprenticeship may oppose it in the
one case, and both that and an exclusive corporation in the
other. In many different manufactures, however, the operations
are so much alike, that the workmen could easily change trades
with one another, if those absurd laws did not hinder them. The
arts of weaving plain linen and plain silk, for example, are
almost entirely the same. That of weaving plain woollen is
somewhat different; but the difference is so insignificant that
either a linen or a silk weaver might become a tolerable work in
a very few days. If any of those three capital manufactures,
therefore, were decaying, the workmen might find a resource in
one of the other two which was in a more prosperous condition;
and their wages would neither rise too high in the thriving, nor
sink too low in the decaying manufacture. The linen manufacture
indeed is, in England, by a particular statute, open to
everybody; but as it is not much cultivated through the greater
part of the country, it can afford no general resource to the
workmen of other decaying manufactures, who, wherever the Statute
of Apprenticeship takes place, have no other choice but either to
come upon the parish, or to work as common labourers, for which,
by their habits, they are much worse qualified than for any sort
of manufacture that bears any resemblance to their own. They
generally, therefore, choose to come upon the parish.
Whatever obstructs the free circulation of labour from one
employment to another obstructs that of stock likewise; the
quantity of stock which can be employed in any branch of business
depending very much upon that of the labour which can be employed
in it. Corporation laws, however, give less obstruction to the
free circulation of stock from one place to another than to that
of labour. It is everywhere much easier for a wealthy merchant to
obtain the privilege of trading in a town corporate, than for a
poor artificer to obtain that of working in it.
The obstruction which corporation laws give to the free
circulation of labour is common, I believe, to every part of
Europe. That which is given to it by the Poor Laws is, so far as
I know, peculiar to England. It consists in the difficulty which
a poor man finds in obtaining a settlement, or even in being
allowed to exercise his industry in any parish but that to which
he belongs. It is the labour of artificers and manufacturers only
of which the free circulation is obstructed by corporation laws.
The difficulty of obtaining settlements obstructs even that of
common labour. It may be worth while to give some account of the
rise, progress, and present state of this disorder, the greatest
perhaps of any in the police of England.
When by the destruction of monasteries the poor had been
deprived of the charity of those religious houses, after some
other ineffectual attempts for their relief, it was enacted by
the 43rd of Elizabeth, c. 2, that every parish should be bound to
provide for its own poor; and that overseers of the poor should
be annually appointed, who, with the churchwardens, should raise
by a parish rate competent sums for this purpose.
By this statute the necessity of providing for their own
poor was indispensably imposed upon every parish. Who were to be
considered as the poor of each parish became, therefore, a
question of some importance. This question, after some variation,
was at last determined by the 13th and 14th of Charles II when it
was enacted, that forty days' undisturbed residence should gain
any person a settlement in any parish; but that within that time
it should be lawful for two justices of the peace, upon complaint
made by the churchwardens or overseers of the poor, to remove any
new inhabitant to the parish where he was last legally settled;
unless he either rented a tenement of ten pounds a year, or could
give such security for the discharge of the parish where he was
then living, as those justices should judge sufficient.
Some frauds, it is said, were committed in consequence of
this statute; parish officers sometimes bribing their own poor to
go clandestinely to another parish, and by keeping themselves
concealed for forty days to gain a settlement there, to the
discharge of that to which they properly belonged. It was
enacted, therefore, by the 1st of James II that the forty days'
undisturbed residence of any person necessary to gain a
settlement should be accounted only from the time of his
delivering notice in writing, of the place of his abode and the
number of his family, to one of the churchwardens or overseers of
the parish where he came to dwell.
But parish officers, it seems, were not always more honest
with regard to their own, than they had been with regard to other
parishes, and sometimes connived at such intrusions, receiving
the notice, and taking no proper steps in consequence of it. As
every person in a parish, therefore, was supposed to have an
interest to prevent as much as possible their being burdened by
such intruders, it was further enacted by the 3rd of William III
that the forty days' residence should be accounted only from the
publication of such notice in writing on Sunday in the church,
immediately after divine service.
"After all," says Doctor Burn, "this kind of settlement, by
continuing forty days after publication of notice in writing, is
very seldom obtained; and the design of the acts is not so much
for gaining of settlements, as for the avoiding of them, by
persons coming into a parish clandestinely: for the giving of
notice is only putting a force upon the parish to remove. But if
a person's situation is such, that it is doubtful whether he is
actually removable or not, he shall by giving of notice compel
the parish either to allow him a settlement uncontested, by
suffering him to continue forty days; or, by removing him, to try
the right."
This statute, therefore, rendered it almost impracticable
for a poor man to gain a new settlement in the old way, by forty
days' inhabitancy. But that it might not appear to preclude
altogether the common people of one parish from ever establishing
themselves with security in another, it appointed four other ways
by which a settlement might be gained without any notice
delivered or published. The first was, by being taxed to parish
rates and paying them; the second, by being elected into an
annual parish office, and serving in it a year; the third, by
serving an apprenticeship in the parish; the fourth, by being
hired into service there for a year, and continuing in the same
service during the whole of it.
Nobody can gain a settlement by either of the two first
ways, but by the public deed of the whole parish, who are too
well aware of the consequences to adopt any new-comer who has
nothing but his labour to support him, either by taxing him to
parish rates, or by electing him into a parish office.
No married man can well gain any settlement in either of the
two last ways. An apprentice is scarce ever married; and it is
expressly enacted that no married servant shall gain any
settlement by being hired for a year. The principal effect of
introducing settlement by service has been to put out in a great
measure the old fashion of hiring for a year, which before had
been so customary in England, that even at this day, if no
particular term is agreed upon, the law intends that every
servant is hired for a year. But masters are not always willing
to give their servants a settlement by hiring them in this
manner; and servants are not always willing to be so hired,
because, as every last settlement discharges all the foregoing,
they might thereby lose their original settlement in the places
of their nativity, the habitation of their parents and relations.
No independent workman, it is evident, whether labourer or
artificer, is likely to gain any new settlement either by
apprenticeship or by service. When such a person, therefore,
carried his industry to a new parish, he was liable to be
removed, how healthy and industrious soever, at the caprice of
any churchwarden or overseer, unless he either rented a tenement
of ten pounds a year, a thing impossible for one who has nothing
but his labour to live by; or could give such security for the
discharge of the parish as two justices of the peace should judge
sufficient. What security they shall require, indeed, is left
altogether to their discretion; but they cannot well require less
than thirty pounds, it having been enacted that the purchase even
of a freehold estate of less than thirty pounds' value shall not
gain any person a settlement, as not being sufficient for the
discharge of the parish. But this is a security which scarce any
man who lives by labour can give; and much greater security is
frequently demanded.
In order to restore in some measure that free circulation of
labour which those different statutes had almost entirely taken
away, the invention of certificates was fallen upon. By the 8th
and 9th of William III it was enacted that if any person should
bring a certificate from the parish where he was last legally
settled, subscribed by the churchwardens and overseers of the
poor, and allowed by two justices of the peace, that every other
parish should be obliged to receive him; that he should not be
removable merely upon account of his being likely to become
chargeable, but only upon his becoming actually chargeable, and
that then the parish which granted the certificate should be
obliged to pay the expense both of his maintenance and of his
removal. And in order to give the most perfect security to the
parish where such certificated man should come to reside, it was
further enacted by the same statute that he should gain no
settlement there by any means whatever, except either by renting
a tenement of ten pounds a year, or by serving upon his own
account in an annual parish office for one whole year; and
consequently neither by notice, nor by service, nor by
apprenticeship, nor by paying parish rates. By the 12th of Queen
Anne, too, stat. 1, c. 18, it was further enacted that neither
the servants nor apprentices of such certificated man should gain
any settlement in the parish where he resided under such
certificate.
How far this invention has restored that free circulation of
labour which the preceding statutes had almost entirely taken
away, we may learn from the following very judicious observation
of Doctor Burn. "It is obvious," says he, "that there are divers
good reasons for requiring certificates with persons coming to
settle in any place; namely, that persons residing under them can
gain no settlement, neither by apprenticeship, nor by service,
nor by giving notice, nor by paying parish rates; that they can
settle neither apprentices nor servants; that if they become
chargeable, it is certainly known whither to remove them, and the
parish shall be paid for the removal, and for their maintenance
in the meantime; and that if they fall sick, and cannot be
removed, the parish which gave the certificate must maintain
them: none of all which can be without a certificate. Which
reasons will hold proportionably for parishes not granting
certificates in ordinary cases; for it is far more than an equal
chance, but that they will have the certificated persons again,
and in a worse condition." The moral of this observation seems to
be that certificates ought always to be required by the parish
where any poor man comes to reside, and that they ought very
seldom to be granted by that which he proposes to leave. "There
is somewhat of hardship in this matter of certificates," says the
same very intelligent author in his History of the Poor Laws, "by
putting it in the power of a parish officer to imprison a man as
it were for life; however inconvenient it may be for him to
continue at that place where he has had the misfortune to acquire
what is called a settlement, or whatever advantage he may propose
to himself by living elsewhere."
Though a certificate carries along with it no testimonial of
good behaviour, and certifies nothing but that the person belongs
to the parish to which he really does belong, it is altogether
discretionary in the parish officers either to grant or to refuse
it. A mandamus was once moved for, says Doctor Burn, to compel
the churchwardens and overseers to sign a certificate; but the
court of King's Bench rejected the motion as a very strange
attempt.
The very unequal price of labour which we frequently find in
England in places at no great distance from one another is
probably owing to the obstruction which the law of settlements
gives to a poor man who would carry his industry from one parish
to another without a certificate. A single man, indeed, who is
healthy and industrious, may sometimes reside by sufferance
without one; but a man with a wife and family who should attempt
to do so would in most parishes be sure of being removed, and if
the single man should afterwards marry, he would generally be
removed likewise. The scarcity of hands in one parish, therefore,
cannot always be relieved by their superabundance in another, as
it is constantly in Scotland, and, I believe, in all other
countries where there is no difficulty of settlement. In such
countries, though wages may sometimes rise a little in the
neighbourhood of a great town, or wherever else there is an
extraordinary demand for labour, and sink gradually as the
distance from such places increases, till they fall back to the
common rate of the country; yet we never meet with those sudden
and unaccountable differences in the wages of neighbouring places
which we sometimes find in England, where it is often more
difficult for a poor man to pass the artificial boundary of a
parish than an arm of the sea or a ridge of high mountains,
natural boundaries which sometimes separate very distinctly
different rates of wages in other countries.
To remove a man who has committed no misdemeanour from the
parish where he chooses to reside is an evident violation of
natural liberty and justice. The common people of England,
however, so jealous of their liberty, but like the common people
of most other countries never rightly understanding wherein it
consists, have now for more than a century together suffered
themselves to be exposed to this oppression without a remedy.
Though men of reflection, too, have sometimes complained of the
law of settlements as a public grievance; yet it has never been
the object of any general popular clamour, such as that against
general warrants, an abusive practice undoubtedly, but such a one
as was not likely to occasion any general oppression. There is
scarce a poor man in England of forty years of age, I will
venture to say, who has not in some part of his life felt himself
most cruelly oppressed by this illcontrived law of settlements.
I shall conclude this long chapter with observing that,
though anciently it was usual to rate wages, first by general
laws extending over the whole kingdom, and afterwards by
particular orders of the justices of peace in every particular
county, both these practices have now gone entirely into disuse.
"By the experience of above four hundred years," says Doctor
Burn, "it seems time to lay aside all endeavours to bring under
strict regulations, what in its own nature seems incapable of
minute limitation; for if all persons in the same kind of work
were to receive equal wages, there would be no emulation, and no
room left for industry or ingenuity."
Particular Acts of Parliament, however, still attempt
sometimes to regulate wages in particular trades and in
particular places. Thus the 8th of George III prohibits under
heavy penalties all master tailors in London, and five miles
round it, from giving, and their workmen from accepting, more
than two shillings and sevenpence halfpenny a day, except in the
case of a general mourning. Whenever the legislature attempts to
regulate the differences between masters and their workmen, its
counsellors are always the masters. When the regulation,
therefore, is in favour of the workmen, it is always just and
equitable; but it is sometimes otherwise when in favour of the
masters. Thus the law which obliges the masters in several
different trades to pay their workmen in money and not in goods
is quite just and equitable. It imposes no real hardship upon the
masters. It only obliges them to pay that value in money, which
they pretended to pay, but did not always really pay, in goods.
This law is in favour of the workmen: but the 8th of George III
is in favour of the masters. When masters combine together in
order to reduce the wages of their workmen, they commonly enter
into a private bond or agreement not to give more than a certain
wage under a certain penalty. Were the workmen to enter into a
contrary combination of the same kind, not to accept of a certain
wage under a certain penalty, the law would punish them very
severely; and if it dealt impartially, it would treat the masters
in the same manner. But the 8th of George III enforces by law
that very regulation which masters sometimes attempt to establish
by such combinations. The complaint of the workmen, that it puts
the ablest and most industrious upon the same footing with an
ordinary workman, seems perfectly well founded.
In ancient times, too, it was usual to attempt to regulate
the profits of merchants and other dealers, by rating the price
both of provisions and other goods. The assize of bread is, so
far as I know, the only remnant of this ancient usage. Where
there is an exclusive corporation, it may perhaps be proper to
regulate the price of the first necessary of life. But where
there is none, the competition will regulate it much better than
any assize. The method of fixing the assize of bread established
by the 31st of George II could not be put in practice in
Scotland, on account of a defect in the law; its execution
depending upon the office of a clerk of the market, which does
not exist there. This defect was not remedied till the 3rd of
George III. The want of an assize occasioned no sensible
inconveniency, and the establishment of one, in the few places
where it has yet taken place, has produced no sensible advantage.
In the greater part of the towns of Scotland, however, there is
an incorporation of bakers who claim exclusive privileges, though
they are not very strictly guarded.
The proportion between the different rates both of wages and
profit in the different employments of labour and stock, seems
not to be much affected, as has already been observed, by the
riches or poverty, the advancing, stationary, or declining state
of the society. Such revolutions in the public welfare, though
they affect the general rates both of wages and profit, must in
the end affect them equally in all different employments. The
proportion between them, therefore, must remain the same, and
cannot well be altered, at least for any considerable time, by
any such revolutions.
RENT, considered as the price paid for the use of land, is
naturally the highest which the tenant can afford to pay in the
actual circumstances of the land. In adjusting the terms of the
lease, the landlord endeavours to leave him no greater share of
the produce than what is sufficient to keep up the stock from
which he furnishes the seed, pays the labour, and purchases and
maintains the cattle and other instruments of husbandry, together
with the ordinary profits of farming stock in the neighbourhood.
This is evidently the smallest share with which the tenant can
content himself without being a loser, and the landlord seldom
means to leave him any more. Whatever part of the produce, or,
what is the same thing, whatever part of its price is over and
above this share, he naturally endeavours to reserve to himself
as the rent of his land, which is evidently the highest the
tenant can afford to pay in the actual circumstances of the land.
Sometimes, indeed, the liberality, more frequently the ignorance,
of the landlord, makes him accept of somewhat less than this
portion; and sometimes too, though more rarely, the ignorance of
the tenant makes him undertake to pay somewhat more, or to
content himself with somewhat less than the ordinary profits of
farming stock in the neighbourhood. This portion, however, may
still be considered as the natural rent of land, or the rent for
which it is naturally meant that land should for the most part be
let.
The rent of land, it may be thought, is frequently no more
than a reasonable profit or interest for the stock laid out by
the landlord upon its improvement. This, no doubt, may be partly
the case upon some occasions; for it can scarce ever be more than
partly the case. The landlord demands a rent even for unimproved
land, and the supposed interest or profit upon the expense of
improvement is generally an addition to this original rent. Those
improvements, besides, are not always made by the stock of the
landlord, but sometimes by that of the tenant. When the lease
comes to be renewed, however, the landlord commonly demands the
same augmentation of rent as if they had been all made by his
own.
He sometimes demands rent for what is altogether incapable
of human improvement. Kelp is a species of sea-weed, which, when
burnt, yields an alkaline salt, useful for making glass, soap,
and for several other purposes. It grows in several parts of
Great Britain, particularly in Scotland, upon such rocks only as
lie within the high water mark, which are twice every day covered
with the sea, and of which the produce, therefore, was never
augmented by human industry. The landlord, however, whose estate
is bounded by a kelp shore of this kind, demands a rent for it as
much as for his corn fields.
The sea in the neighbourhood of the islands of Shetland is
more than commonly abundant in fish, which makes a great part of
the subsistence of their inhabitants. But in order to profit by
the produce of the water, they must have a habitation upon the
neighbouring land. The rent of the landlord is in proportion, not
to what the farmer can make by the land, but to what he can make
both by the land and by the water. It is partly paid in sea-fish;
and one of the very few instances in which rent makes a part of
the price of that commodity is to be found in that country.
The rent of the land, therefore, considered as the price
paid for the use of the land, is naturally a monopoly price. It
is not at all proportioned to what the landlord may have laid out
upon the improvement of the land, or to what he can afford to
take; but to what the farmer can afford to give.
Such parts only of the produce of land can commonly be
brought to market of which the ordinary price is sufficient to
replace the stock which must be employed in bringing them
thither, together with its ordinary profits. If the ordinary
price is more than this, the surplus part of it will naturally go
to the rent of land. If it is not more, though the commodity may
be brought to market, it can afford no rent to the landlord.
Whether the price is or is not more depends upon the demand.
There are some parts of the produce of land for which the
demand must always be such as to afford a greater price than what
is sufficient to bring them to market; and there are others for
which it either may or may not be such as to afford this greater
price. The former must always afford a rent to the landlord. The
latter sometimes may, and sometimes may not, according to
different circumstances.
Rent, it is to be observed, therefore, enters into the
composition of the price of commodities in a different way from
wages and profit. High or low wages and profit are the causes of
high or low price; high or low rent is the effect of it. It is
because high or low wages and profit must be paid, in order to
bring a particular commodity to market, that its price is high or
low. But it is because its price is high or low; a great deal
more, or very little more, or no more, than what is sufficient to
pay those wages and profit, that it affords a high rent, or a low
rent, or no rent at all.
The particular consideration, first, of those parts of the
produce of land which always afford some rent; secondly, of those
which sometimes may and sometimes may not afford rent; and,
thirdly, of the variations which, in the different periods of
improvement, naturally take place in the relative value of those
two different sorts of rude produce, when compared both with one
another and with manufactured commodities, will divide this
chapter into three parts.
PART 1
Of the Produce of Land which always affords Rent
AS men, like all other animals, naturally multiply in
proportion to the means of their subsistence, food is always,
more or less, in demand. It can always purchase or command a
greater or smaller quantity of labour, and somebody can always be
found who is willing to do something in order to obtain it. The
quantity of labour, indeed, which it can purchase is not always
equal to what it could maintain, if managed in the most
economical manner, on account of the high wages which are
sometimes given to labour. But it can always purchase such a
quantity of labour as it can maintain, according to the rate at
which the sort of labour is commonly maintained in the
neighbourhood.
But land, in almost any situation, produces a greater
quantity of food than what is sufficient to maintain all the
labour necessary for bringing it to market in the most liberal
way in which that labour is ever maintained. The surplus, too, is
always more than sufficient to replace the stock which employed
that labour, together with its profits. Something, therefore,
always remains for a rent to the landlord.
The most desert moors in Norway and Scotland produce some
sort of pasture for cattle, of which the milk and the increase
are always more than sufficient, not only to maintain all the
labour necessary for tending them, and to pay the ordinary profit
to the farmer or owner of the herd or flock; but to afford some
small rent to the landlord. The rent increases in proportion to
the goodness of the pasture. The same extent of ground not only
maintains a greater number of cattle, but as they are brought
within a smaller compass, less labour becomes requisite to tend
them, and to collect their produce. The landlord gains both ways,
by the increase of the produce and by the diminution of the
labour which must be maintained out of it.
The rent of land not only varies with its fertility,
whatever be its produce, but with its situation, whatever be its
fertility. Land in the neighbourhood of a town gives a greater
rent than land equally fertile in a distant part of the country.
Though it may cost no more labour to cultivate the one than the
other, it must always cost more to bring the produce of the
distant land to market. A greater quantity of labour, therefore,
must be maintained out of it; and the surplus, from which are
drawn both the profit of the farmer and the rent of the landlord,
must be diminished. But in remote parts of the country the rate
of profits, as has already been shown, is generally higher than
in the neighbourhood of a large town. A smaller proportion of
this diminished surplus, therefore, must belong to the landlord.
Good roads, canals, and navigable rivers, by diminishing the
expense of carriage, put the remote parts of the country more
nearly upon a level with those in the neighbourhood of the town.
They are upon that account the greatest of all improvements. They
encourage the cultivation of the remote, which must always be the
most extensive circle of the country. They are advantageous to
the town, by breaking down the monopoly of the country in its
neighbourhood. They are advantageous even to that part of the
country. Though they introduce some rival commodities into the
old market, they open many new markets to its produce. Monopoly,
besides, is a great enemy to good management, which can never be
universally established but in consequence of that free and
universal competition which forces everybody to have recourse to
it for the sake of self-defence. It is not more than fifty years
ago that some of the counties in the neighbourhood of London
petitioned the Parliament against the extension of the turnpike
roads into the remoter counties. Those remoter counties, they
pretended, from the cheapness of labour, would be able to sell
their grass and corn cheaper in the London market than
themselves, and would thereby reduce their rents, and ruin their
cultivation. Their rents, however, have risen, and their
cultivation has been improved since that time.
A cornfield of moderate fertility produces a much greater
quantity of food for man than the best pasture of equal extent.
Though its cultivation requires much more labour, yet the surplus
which remains after replacing the seed and maintaining all that
labour, is likewise much greater. If a pound of butcher's meat,
therefore, was never supposed to be worth more than a pound of
bread, this greater surplus would everywhere be of greater value,
and constitute a greater fund both for the profit of the farmer
and the rent of the landlord. It seems to have done so
universally in the rude beginnings of agriculture.
But the relative values of those two different species of
food, bread and butcher's meat, are very different in the
different periods of agriculture. In its rude beginnings, the
unimproved wilds, which then occupy the far greater part of the
country, are all abandoned to cattle. There is more butcher's
meat than bread, and bread, therefore, is the food for which
there is the greatest competition, and which consequently brings
the greatest price. At Buenos Ayres, we are told by Ulloa, four
reals, one-and-twenty pence halfpenny sterling, was, forty or
fifty years ago, the ordinary price of an ox, chosen from a herd
of two or three hundred. He says nothing of the price of bread,
probably because he found nothing remarkable about it. An ox
there, he says, cost little more than the labour of catching him.
But corn can nowhere be raised without a great deal of labour,
and in a country which lies upon the river Plate, at that time
the direct road from Europe to the silver mines of Potosi, the
money price of labour could not be very cheap. It is otherwise
when cultivation is extended over the greater part of the
country. There is then more bread than butcher's meat. The
competition changes its direction, and the price of butcher's
meat becomes greater than the price of bread.
By the extension besides of cultivation, the unimproved
wilds become insufficient to supply the demand for butcher's
meat. A great part of the cultivated lands must be employed in
rearing and fattening cattle, of which the price, therefore, must
be sufficient to pay, not only the labour necessary for tending
them, but the rent which the landlord and the profit which the
farmer could have drawn from such land employed in tillage. The
cattle bred upon the most uncultivated moors, when brought to the
same market, are, in proportion to their weight or goodness, sold
at the same price as those which are reared upon the most
improved land. The proprietors of those moors profit by it, and
raise the rent of their land in proportion to the price of their
cattle. It is not more than a century ago that in many parts of
the highlands of Scotland, butcher's meat was as cheap or cheaper
than even bread made of oatmeal. The union opened the market of
England to the highland cattle. Their ordinary price is at
present about three times greater than at the beginning of the
century, and the rents of many highland estates have been tripled
and quadrupled in the same time. In almost every part of Great
Britain a pound of the best butcher's meat is, in the present
times, generally worth more than two pounds of the best white
bread; and in plentiful years it is sometimes worth three or four
pounds.
It is thus that in the progress of improvement the rent and
profit of unimproved pasture come to be regulated in some measure
by the rent and profit of what is improved, and these again by
the rent and profit of corn. Corn is an annual crop. Butcher's
meat, a crop which requires four or five years to grow. As an
acre of land, therefore, will produce a much smaller quantity of
the one species of food than of the other, the inferiority of the
quantity must be compensated by the superiority of the price. If
it was more than compensated, more corn land would be turned into
pasture; and if it was not compensated, part of what was in
pasture would be brought back into corn.
This equality, however, between the rent and profit of grass
and those of corn; of the land of which the immediate produce is
food for cattle, and of that of which the immediate produce is
food for men; must be understood to take place only through the
greater part of the improved lands of a great country. In some
particular local situations it is quite otherwise, and the rent
and profit of grass are much superior to what can be made by
corn.
Thus in the neighbourhood of a great town the demand for
milk and for forage to horses frequently contribute, together
with the high price of butcher's meat, to raise the value of
grass above what may be called its natural proportion to that of
corn. This local advantage, it is evident, cannot be communicated
to the lands at a distance.
Particular circumstances have sometimes rendered some
countries so populous that the whole territory, like the lands in
the neighbourhood of a great town, has not been sufficient to
produce both the grass and the corn necessary for the subsistence
of their inhabitants. Their lands, therefore, have been
principally employed in the production of grass, the more bulky
commodity, and which cannot be so easily brought from a great
distance; and corn, the food of the great body of the people, has
been chiefly imported from foreign countries. Holland is at
present in this situation, and a considerable part of ancient
Italy seems to have been so during the prosperity of the Romans.
To feed well, old Cato said, as we are told by Cicero, was the
first and most profitable thing in the management of a private
estate; to feed tolerably well, the second; and to feed ill, the
third. To plough, he ranked only in the fourth place of profit
and advantage. Tillage, indeed, in that part of ancient Italy
which lay in the neighbourhood of Rome, must have been very much
discouraged by the distributions of corn which were frequently
made to the people, either gratuitously, or at a very low price.
This corn was brought from the conquered provinces, of which
several, instead of taxes, were obliged to furnish a tenth part
of their produce at a stated price, about sixpence a peck, to the
republic. The low price at which this corn was distributed to the
people must necessarily have sunk the price of what could be
brought to the Roman market from Latium, or the ancient territory
of Rome, and must have discouraged its cultivation in that
country.
In an open country too, of which the principal produce is
corn, a well-enclosed piece of grass will frequently rent higher
than any corn field in its neighbourhood. It is convenient for
the maintenance of the cattle employed in the cultivation of the
corn, and its high rent is, in this case, not so properly paid
from the value of its own produce as from that of the corn lands
which are cultivated by means of it. It is likely to fall, if
ever the neighbouring lands are completely enclosed. The present
high rent of enclosed land in Scotland seems owing to the
scarcity of enclosure, and will probably last no longer than that
scarcity. The advantage of enclosure is greater for pasture than
for corn. It saves the labour of guarding the cattle, which feed
better, too, when they are not liable to be disturbed by their
keeper or his dog.
But where there is no local advantage of this kind, the rent
and profit of corn, or whatever else is the common vegetable food
or the people, must naturally regulate, upon the land which is
fit for producing it, the rent and profit of pasture.
The use of the artificial grasses, of turnips, carrots,
cabbages, and the other expedients which have been fallen upon to
make an equal quantity of land feed a greater number of cattle
than when in natural grass, should somewhat reduce, it might be
expected, the superiority which, in an improved country, the
price of butcher's meat naturally has over that of bread. It
seems accordingly to have done so; and there is some reason for
believing that, at least in the London market, the price of
butcher's meat in proportion to the price of bread is a good deal
lower in the present times than it was in the beginning of the
last century.
In the appendix to the Life of Prince Henry, Doctor Birch
has given us an account of the prices of butcher's meat as
commonly paid by that prince. It is there said that the four
quarters of an ox weighing six hundred pounds usually cost him
nine pounds ten shillings, or thereabouts; that is, thirty-one
shillings and eightpence per hundred pounds weight. Prince Henry
died on the 6th of November 1612, in the nineteenth year of his
age.
In March 1764, there was a Parliamentary inquiry into the
causes of the high price of provisions at that time. It was then,
among other proof to the same purpose, given in evidence by a
Virginia merchant, that in March 1763, he had victualled his
ships for twenty-four or twenty-five shillings the hundredweight
of beef, which he considered as the ordinary price; whereas, in
that dear year, he had paid twenty-seven shillings for the same
weight and sort. This high price in 1764 is, however, four
shillings and eightpence cheaper than the ordinary price paid by
Prince Henry; and it is the best beef only, it must be observed,
which is fit to be salted for those distant voyages.
The price paid by Prince Henry amounts to 3 3/4d. per pound
weight of the whole carcase, coarse and choice pieces taken
together; and at that rate the choice pieces could not have been
sold by retail for less than 4 1/2d. or 5d. the pound.
In the Parliamentary inquiry in 1764, the witnesses stated
the price of the choice pieces of the best beef to be to the
consumer 4d. and 4 1/4d. the pound; and the coarse pieces in
general to be from seven farthings to 2 1/2d. and this they said
was in general one halfpenny dearer than the same sort of pieces
had usually been sold in the month of March. But even this high
price is still a good deal cheaper than what we can well suppose
the ordinary retail price to have been the time of Prince Henry.
During the twelve first years of the last century, the
average price of the best wheat at the Windsor market was L1 18s.
3 1/6d. the quarter of nine Winchester bushels.
But in the twelve years preceding 1764, including that year,
the average price of the same measure of the best wheat at the
same market was L2 1s. 9 1/2d.
In the twelve first years of the last century, therefore,
wheat appears to have been a good deal cheaper, and butcher's
meat a good deal dearer, than in the twelve years preceding 1764,
including that year.
In all great countries the greater part of the cultivated
lands are employed in producing either food for men or food for
cattle. The rent and profit of these regulate the rent and profit
of all other cultivated land. If any particular produce afforded
less, the land would soon be turned into corn or pasture; and if
any afforded more, some part of the lands in corn or pasture
would soon be turned to that produce.
Those productions, indeed, which require either a greater
original expense of improvement, or a greater annual expense of
cultivation, in order to fit the land for them, appear commonly
to afford, the one a greater rent, the other a greater profit
than corn or pasture. This superiority, however, will seldom be
found to amount to more than a reasonable interest or
compensation for this superior expense.
In a hop garden, a fruit garden, a kitchen garden, both the
rent of the landlord, and the profit of the farmer, are generally
greater than in a corn or grass field. But to bring the ground
into this condition requires more expense. Hence a greater rent
becomes due to the landlord. It requires, too, a more attentive
and skilful management. Hence a greater profit becomes due to the
farmer. The crop too, at least in the hop and fruit garden, is
more precarious. Its price, therefore, besides compensating all
occasional losses, must afford something like the profit of
insurance. The circumstances of gardeners, generally mean, and
always moderate, may satisfy us that their great ingenuity is not
commonly over-recompensed. Their delightful art is practised by
so many rich people for amusement, that little advantage is to be
made by those who practise it for profit; because the persons who
should naturally be their best customers supply themselves with
all their most precious productions.
The advantage which the landlord derives from such
improvements seems at no time to have been greater than what was
sufficient to compensate the original expense of making them. In
the ancient husbandry, after the vineyard, a well-watered kitchen
garden seems to have been the part of the farm which was supposed
to yield the most valuable produce. But Democritus, who wrote
upon husbandry about two thousand years ago, and who was regarded
by the ancients as one of the fathers of the art, thought they
did not act wisely who enclosed a kitchen garden. The profit, he
said, would not compensate the expense of a stone wall; and
bricks (he meant, I suppose, bricks baked in the sun) mouldered
with the rain, and the winter storm, and required continual
repairs. Columella, who reports this judgment of Democritus, does
not controvert it, but proposes a very frugal method of enclosing
with a hedge of brambles and briars, which, he says, he had found
by experience to be both a lasting and an impenetrable fence; but
which, it seems, was not commonly known in the time of
Democritus. Palladius adopts the opinion of Columella, which had
before been recommended by Varro. In the judgment of those
ancient improvers, the produce of a kitchen garden had, it seems,
been little more than sufficient to pay the extraordinary culture
and the expense of watering; for in countries so near the sun, it
was thought proper, in those times as in the present, to have the
command of a stream of water which could be conducted to every
bed in the garden. Through the greater part of Europe a kitchen
garden is not at present supposed to deserve a better enclosure
than that recommended by Columella. In Great Britain, and some
other northern countries, the finer fruits cannot be brought to
perfection but by the assistance of a wall. Their price,
therefore, in such countries must be sufficient to pay the
expense of building and maintaining what they cannot be had
without. The fruit-wall frequently surrounds the kitchen garden,
which thus enjoys the benefit of an enclosure which its own
produce could seldom pay for.
That the vineyard, when properly planted and brought to
perfection, was the most valuable part of the farm, seems to have
been an undoubted maxim in the ancient agriculture, as it is in
the modern through all the wine countries. But whether it was
advantageous to plant a new vineyard was a matter of dispute
among the ancient Italian husbandmen, as we learn from Columella.
He decides, like a true lover of all curious cultivation, in
favour of the vineyard, and endeavours to show, by a comparison
of the profit and expense, that it was a most advantageous
improvement. Such comparisons, however, between the profit and
expense of new projects are commonly very fallacious, and in
nothing more so than in agriculture. Had the gain actually made
by such plantations been commonly as great as he imagined it
might have been, there could have been no dispute about it. The
same point is frequently at this day a matter of controversy in
the wine countries. Their writers on agriculture, indeed, the
lovers and promoters of high cultivation, seem generally disposed
to decide with Columella in favour of the vineyard. In France the
anxiety of the proprietors of the old vineyards to prevent the
planting of any new ones, seems to favour their opinion, and to
indicate a consciousness in those who must have the experience
that this species of cultivation is at present in that country
more profitable than any other. It seems at the same time,
however, to indicate another opinion, that this superior profit
can last no longer than the laws which at present restrain the
free cultivation of the vine. In 1731, they obtained an order of
council prohibiting both the planting of new vineyards and the
renewal of those old ones, of which the cultivation had been
interrupted for two years, without a particular permission from
the king, to be granted only in consequence of an information
from the intendant of the province, certifying that he had
examined the land, and that it was incapable of any other
culture. The pretence of this order was the scarcity of corn and
pasture, and the superabundance of wine. But had this
superabundance been real, it would, without any order of council,
have effectually prevented the plantation of new vineyards, by
reducing the profits of this species of cultivation below their
natural proportion to those of corn and pasture. With regard to
the supposed scarcity of corn, occasioned by the multiplication
of vineyards, corn is nowhere in France more carefully cultivated
than in the wine provinces, where the land is fit for producing
it; as in Burgundy, Guienne, and the Upper Languedoc. The
numerous hands employed in the one species of cultivation
necessarily encourage the other, by affording a ready market for
its produce. To diminish the number of those who are capable of
paying for it is surely a most unpromising expedient for
encouraging the cultivation of corn. It is like the policy which
would promote agriculture by discouraging manufactures.
The rent and profit of those productions, therefore, which
require either a greater original expense of improvement in order
to fit the land for them, or a greater annual expense of
cultivation, though often much superior to those of corn and
pasture, yet when they do no more than compensate such
extraordinary expense, are in reality regulated by the rent and
profit of those common crops.
It sometimes happens, indeed, that the quantity of land,
which can be fitted for some particular produce, is too small to
supply the effectual demand. The whole produce can be disposed of
to those who are willing to give somewhat more than what is
sufficient to pay the whole rent, wages, and profit necessary for
raising and bringing it to market, according to their natural
rates, or according to the rates at which they are paid in the
greater part of other cultivated land. The surplus part of the
price which remains after defraying the whole expense of
improvement and cultivation may commonly, in this case, and in
this case only, bear no regular proportion to the like surplus in
corn or pasture, but may exceed it in almost any degree; and the
greater part of this excess naturally goes to the rent of the
landlord.
The usual and natural proportion, for example, between the
rent and profit of wine and those of corn and pasture must be
understood to take place only with regard to those vineyards
which produce nothing but good common wine, such as can be raised
almost anywhere, upon any light, gravelly, or sandy soil, and
which has nothing to recommend it but its strength and
wholesomeness. It is with such vineyards only that the common
land of the country can be brought into competition; for with
those of a peculiar quality it is evident that it cannot.
The vine is more affected by the difference of soils than
any other fruit tree. From some it derives a flavour which no
culture or management can equal, it is supposed, upon any other.
This flavour, real or imaginary, is sometimes peculiar to the
produce of a few vineyards; sometimes it extends through the
greater part of a small district, and sometimes through a
considerable part of a large province. The whole quantity of such
wines that is brought to market falls short of the effectual
demand, or the demand of those who would be willing to pay the
whole rent, profit, and wages, necessary for preparing and
bringing them thither, according to the ordinary rate, or
according to the rate at which they are paid in common vineyards.
The whole quantity, therefore, can be disposed of to those who
are willing to pay more, which necessarily raises the price above
that of common wine. The difference is greater or less according
as the fashionableness and scarcity of the wine render the
competition of the buyers more or less eager. Whatever it be, the
greater part of it goes to the rent of the landlord. For though
such vineyards are in general more carefully cultivated than most
others, the high price of the wine seems to be not so much the
effect as the cause of this careful cultivation. In so valuable a
produce the loss occasioned by negligence is so great as to force
even the most careless to attention. A small part of this high
price, therefore, is sufficient to pay the wages of the
extraordinary labour bestowed upon their cultivation, and the
profits of the extraordinary stock which puts that labour into
motion.
The sugar colonies possessed by the European nations in the
West Indies may be compared to those precious vineyards. Their
whole produce falls short of the effectual demand of Europe, and
can be disposed of to those who are willing to give more than
what is sufficient to pay the whole rent, profit, and wages
necessary for preparing and bringing it to market, according to
the rate at which they are commonly paid by any other produce. In
Cochin China the finest white sugar commonly sells for three
piasters the quintal, about thirteen shillings and sixpence of
our money, as we are told by Mr. Poivre, a very careful observer
of the agriculture of that country. What is there called the
quintal weighs from a hundred and fifty to two hundred Paris
pounds, or a hundred and seventy-five Paris pounds at a medium,
which reduces the price of the hundred-weight English to about
eight shillings sterling, not a fourth part of what is commonly
paid for the brown or muskavada sugars imported from our
colonies, and not a sixth part of what is paid for the finest
white sugar. The greater part of the cultivated lands in Cochin
China are employed in producing corn and rice, the food of the
great body of the people. The respective prices of corn, rice,
and sugar, are there probably in the natural proportion, or in
that which naturally takes place in the different crops of the
greater part of cultivated land, and which recompenses the
landlord and farmer, as nearly as can be computed according to
what is usually the original expense of improvement and the
annual expense of cultivation. But in our sugar colonies the
price of sugar bears no such proportion to that of the produce of
a rice or corn field either in Europe or in America. It is
commonly said that a sugar planter expects that the rum and
molasses should defray the whole expense of his cultivation, and
that his sugar should be all clear profit. If this be true, for I
pretend not to affirm it, it is as if a corn farmer expected to
defray the expense of his cultivation with the chaff and the
straw, and that the grain should be all clear profit. We see
frequently societies of merchants in London and other trading
town's purchase waste lands in our sugar colonies, which they
expect to improve and cultivate with profit by means of factors
and agents, notwithstanding the great distance and the uncertain
returns from the defective administration of justice in those
countries. Nobody will attempt to improve and cultivate in the
same manner the most fertile lands of Scotland, Ireland, or the
corn provinces of North America, though from the more exact
administration of justice in these countries more regular returns
might be expected.
In Virginia and Maryland the cultivation of tobacco is
preferred, as more profitable, to that of corn. Tobacco might be
cultivated with advantage through the greater part of Europe; but
in almost every part of Europe it has become a principal subject
of taxation, and to collect a tax from every different farm in
the country where this plant might happen to be cultivated would
be more difficult, it has been supposed, than to levy one upon
its importation at the custom-house. The cultivation of tobacco
has upon this account been most absurdly prohibited through the
greater part of Europe, which necessarily gives a sort of
monopoly to the countries where it is allowed; and as Virginia
and Maryland produce the greatest quantity of it, they share
largely, though with some competitors, in the advantage of this
monopoly. The cultivation of tobacco, however, seems not to be so
advantageous as that of sugar. I have never even heard of any
tobacco plantation that was improved and cultivated by the
capital of merchants who resided in Great Britain, and our
tobacco colonies send us home no such wealthy planters as we see
frequently arrive from our sugar islands. Though from the
preference given in those colonies to the cultivation of tobacco
above that of corn, it would appear that the effectual demand of
Europe for tobacco is not completely supplied, it probably is
more nearly so than that for sugar; and though the present price
of tobacco is probably more than sufficient to pay the whole
rent, wages, and profit necessary for preparing and bring it to
market, according to the rate at which they are commonly paid in
corn land, it must not be so much more as the present price of
sugar. Our tobacco planters, accordingly, have shown the same
fear of the superabundance of tobacco which the proprietors of
the old vineyards in France have of the superabundance of wine.
By act of assembly they have restrained its cultivation to six
thousand plants, supposed to yield a thousand weight of tobacco,
for every negro between sixteen and sixty years of age. Such a
negro, over and above this quantity of tobacco, can manage, they
reckon, four acres of Indian corn. To prevent the market from
being overstocked, too, they have sometimes, in plentiful years,
we are told by Dr. Douglas (I suspect he has been ill informed),
burnt a certain quantity of tobacco for every negro, in the same
manner as the Dutch are said to do of spices. If such violent
methods are necessary to keep up the present price of tobacco,
the superior advantage of its culture over that of corn, if it
still has any, will not probably be of long continuance.
It is in this manner that the rent of the cultivated land,
of which the produce is human food, regulates the rent of the
greater part of other cultivated land. No particular produce can
long afford less; because the land would immediately be turned to
another use. And if any particular produce commonly affords more,
it is because the quantity of land which can be fitted for it is
too small to supply the effectual demand.
In Europe, corn is the principal produce of land which
serves immediately for human food. Except in particular
situations, therefore, the rent of corn land regulates in Europe
that of all other cultivated land. Britain need envy neither the
vineyards of France nor the olive plantations of Italy. Except in
particular situations, the value of these is regulated by that of
corn, in which the fertility of Britain is not much inferior to
that of either of those two countries.
If in any country the common and favourite vegetable food of
the people should be drawn from a plant of which the most common
land, with the same or nearly the same culture, produced a much
greater quantity than the most fertile does of corn, the rent of
the landlord, or the surplus quantity of food which would remain
to him, after paying the labour and replacing the stock of the
farmer, together with its ordinary profits, would necessarily be
much greater. Whatever was the rate at which labour was commonly
maintained in that country, this greater surplus could always
maintain a greater quantity of it, and consequently enable the
landlord to purchase or command a greater quantity of it. The
real value of his rent, his real power and authority, his command
of the necessaries and conveniencies of life with which the
labour of other people could supply him, would necessarily be
much greater.
A rice field produces a much greater quantity of food than
the most fertile corn field. Two crops in the year from thirty to
sixty bushels each, are said to be the ordinary produce of an
acre. Though its cultivation, therefore, requires more labour, a
much greater surplus remains after maintaining all that labour.
In those rice countries, therefore, where rice is the common and
favourite vegetable food of the people, and where the cultivators
are chiefly maintained with it, a greater share of this greater
surplus should belong to the landlord than in corn countries. In
Carolina, where the planters, as in other British colonies, are
generally both farmers and landlords, and where rent consequently
is confounded with profit, the cultivation of rice is found to be
more profitable than that of corn, though their fields produce
only one crop in the year, and though, from the prevalence of the
customs of Europe, rice is not there the common and favourite
vegetable food of the people.
A good rice field is a bog at all seasons, and at one season
a bog covered with water. It is unfit either for corn, or
pasture, or vineyard, or, indeed, for any other vegetable produce
that is very useful to men; and the lands which are fit for those
purposes are not fit for rice. Even in the rice countries,
therefore, the rent of rice lands cannot regulate the rent of the
other cultivated land, which can never be turned to that produce.
The food produced by a field of potatoes is not inferior in
quantity to that produced by a field of rice, and much superior
to what is produced by a field of wheat. Twelve thousand weight
of potatoes from an acre of land is not a greater produce than
two thousand weight of wheat. The food or solid nourishment,
indeed, which can be drawn from each of those two plants, is not
altogether in proportion to their weight, on account of the
watery nature of potatoes. Allowing, however, half the weight of
this root to go to water, a very large allowance, such an acre of
potatoes will still produce six thousand weight of solid
nourishment, three times the quantity produced by the acre of
wheat. An acre of potatoes is cultivated with less expense than
an acre of wheat; the fallow, which generally precedes the sowing
of wheat, more than compensating the hoeing and other
extraordinary culture which is always given to potatoes. Should
this root ever become in any part of Europe, like rice in some
rice countries, the common and favourite vegetable food of the
people, so as to occupy the same proportion of the lands in
tillage which wheat and other sorts of grain for human food do at
present, the same quantity of cultivated land would maintain a
much greater number of people, and the labourers being generally
fed with potatoes, a greater surplus would remain after replacing
all the stock and maintaining all the labour employed in
cultivation. A greater share of this surplus, too, would belong
to the landlord. Population would increase, and rents would rise
much beyond what they are at present.
The land which is fit for potatoes is fit for almost every
other useful vegetable. If they occupied the same proportion of
cultivated land which corn does at present, they would regulate,
in the same manner, the rent of the greater part of other
cultivated land.
In some parts of Lancashire it is pretended, I have been
told, that bread of oatmeal is a heartier food for labouring
people than wheaten bread, and I have frequently heard the same
doctrine held in Scotland. I am, however, somewhat doubtful of
the truth of it. The common people in Scotland, who are fed with
oatmeal, are in general neither so strong, nor so handsome as the
same rank of people in England who are fed with wheaten bread.
They neither work so well, nor look so well; and as there is not
the same difference between the people of fashion in the two
countries, experience would seem to show that the food of the
common people in Scotland is not so suitable to the human
constitution as that of their neighbours of the same rank in
England. But it seems to be otherwise with potatoes. The
chairmen, porters, and coalheavers in London, and those
unfortunate women who live by prostitution, the strongest men and
the most beautiful women perhaps in the British dominions, are
said to be the greater part of them from the lowest rank of
people in Ireland, who are generally fed with this root. No food
can afford a more decisive proof of its nourishing quality, or of
its being peculiarly suitable to the health of the human
constitution.
It is difficult to preserve potatoes through the year, and
impossible to store them like corn, for two or three years
together. The fear of not being able to sell them before they rot
discourages their cultivation, and is, perhaps, the chief
obstacle to their ever becoming in any great country, like bread,
the principal vegetable food of all the different ranks of the
people.
PART 2
Of the Produce of Land which sometimes does,
and sometimes does not, afford Rent
HUMAN food seems to be the only produce of land which always
and necessarily affords some rent to the landlord. Other sorts of
produce sometimes may and sometimes may not, according to
different circumstances.
After food, clothing and lodging are the two great wants of
mankind.
Land in its original rude state can afford the materials of
clothing and lodging to a much greater number of people than it
can feed. In its improved state it can sometimes feed a greater
number of people than it can supply with those materials; at
least in the way in which they require them, and are willing to
pay for them. In the one state, therefore, there is always a
superabundance of those materials, which are frequently, upon
that account, of little or no value. In the other there is often
a scarcity, which necessarily augments their value. In the one
state a great part of them is thrown away as useless, and the
price of what is used is considered as equal only to the labour
and expense of fitting it for use, and can, therefore, afford no
rent to the landlord. In the other they are all made use of, and
there is frequently a demand for more than can be had. Somebody
is always willing to give more for every part of them than what
is sufficient to pay the expense of bringing them to market.
Their price, therefore, can always afford some rent to the
landlord.
The skins of the larger animals were the original materials
of clothing. Among nations of hunters and shepherds, therefore,
whose food consists chiefly in the flesh of those animals, every
man, by providing himself with food, provides himself with the
materials of more clothing than he can wear. If there was no
foreign commerce, the greater part of them would be thrown away
as things of no value. This was probably the case among the
hunting nations of North America before their country was
discovered by the Europeans, with whom they now exchange their
surplus peltry for blankets, fire-arms, and brandy, which gives
it some value. In the present commercial state of the known
world, the most barbarous nations, I believe, among whom land
property is established, have some foreign commerce of this kind,
and find among their wealthier neighbours such a demand for all
the materials of clothing which their land produces, and which
can neither be wrought up nor consumed at home, as raises their
price above what it costs to send them to those wealthier
neighbours. It affords, therefore, some rent to the landlord.
When the greater part of the highland cattle were consumed on
their own hills, the exportation of their hides made the most
considerable article of the commerce of that country, and what
they were exchanged for afforded some addition to the rent of the
highland estates. The wool of England, which in old times could
neither be consumed nor wrought up at home, found a market in the
then wealthier and more industrious country of Flanders, and its
price afforded something to the rent of the land which produced
it. In countries not better cultivated than England was then, or
than the highlands of Scotland are now, and which had no foreign
commerce, the materials of clothing would evidently be so
superabundant that a great part of them would be thrown away as
useless, and no part could afford any rent to the landlord.
The materials of lodging cannot always be transported to so
great a distance as those of clothing, and do not so readily
become an object of foreign commerce. When they are superabundant
in the country which produces them, it frequently happens, even
in the present commercial state of the world, that they are of no
value to the landlord. A good stone quarry in the neighbourhood
of London would afford a considerable rent. In many parts of
Scotland and Wales it affords none. Barren timber for building is
of great value in a populous and well-cultivated country, and the
land which produces it affords a considerable rent. But in many
parts of North America the landlord would be much obliged to
anybody who would carry away the greater part of his large trees.
In some parts of the highlands of Scotland the bark is the only
part of the wood which, for want of roads and water-carriage, can
be sent to market. The timber is left to rot upon the ground.
When the materials of lodging are so superabundant, the part made
use of is worth only the labour and expense of fitting it for
that use. It affords no rent to the landlord, who generally
grants the use of it to whoever takes the trouble of asking it.
The demand of wealthier nations, however, sometimes enables him
to get a rent for it. The paving of the streets of London has
enabled the owners of some barren rocks on the coast of Scotland
to draw a rent from what never afforded any before. The woods of
Norway and of the coasts of the Baltic find a market in many
parts of Great Britain which they could not find at home, and
thereby afford some rent to their proprietors.
Countries are populous not in proportion to the number of
people whom their produce can clothe and lodge, but in proportion
to that of those whom it can feed. When food is provided, it is
easy to find the necessary clothing and lodging. But though these
are at hand, it may often be difficult to find food. In some
parts even of the British dominions what is called a house may be
built by one day's labour of one man. The simplest species of
clothing, the skins of animals, require somewhat more labour to
dress and prepare them for use. They do not, however, require a
great deal. Among savage and barbarous nations, a hundredth or
little more than a hundredth part of the labour of the whole year
will be sufficient to provide them with such clothing and lodging
as satisfy the greater part of the people. All the other
ninety-nine parts are frequently no more than enough to provide
them with food.
But when by the improvement and cultivation of land the
labour of one family can provide food for two, the labour of half
the society becomes sufficient to provide food for the whole. The
other half, therefore, or at least the greater part of them, can
be employed in providing other things, or in satisfying the other
wants and fancies of mankind. Clothing and lodging, household
furniture, and what is called Equipage, are the principal objects
of the greater part of those wants and fancies. The rich man
consumes no more food than his poor neighbour. In quality it may
be very different, and to select and prepare it may require more
labour and art; but in quantity it is very nearly the same. But
compare the spacious palace and great wardrobe of the one with
the hovel and the few rags of the other, and you will be sensible
that the difference between their clothing, lodging, and
household furniture is almost as great in quantity as it is in
quality. The desire of food is limited in every man by the narrow
capacity of the human stomach; but the desire of the conveniences
and ornaments of building, dress, equipage, and household
furniture, seems to have no limit or certain boundary. Those,
therefore, who have the command of more food than they themselves
can consume, are always willing to exchange the surplus, or, what
is the same thing, the price of it, for gratifications of this
other kind. What is over and above satisfying the limited desire
is given for the amusement of those desires which cannot be
satisfied, but seem to be altogether endless. The poor, in order
to obtain food, exert themselves to gratify those fancies of the
rich, and to obtain it more certainly they vie with one another
in the cheapness and perfection of their work. The number of
workmen increases with the increasing quantity of food, or with
the growing improvement and cultivation of the lands; and as the
nature of their business admits of the utmost subdivisions of
labour, the quantity of materials which they can work up
increases in a much greater proportion than their numbers. Hence
arises a demand for every sort of material which human invention
can employ, either usefully or ornamentally, in building, dress,
equipage, or household furniture; for the fossils and minerals
contained in the bowels of the earth; the precious metals, and
the precious stones.
Food is in this manner not only the original source of rent,
but every other part of the produce of land which afterwards
affords rent derives that part of its value from the improvement
of the powers of labour in producing food by means of the
improvement and cultivation of land.
Those other parts of the produce of land, however, which
afterwards afford rent, do not afford it always. Even in improved
and cultivated countries, the demand for them is not always such
as to afford a greater price than what is sufficient to pay the
labour, and replace, together with it ordinary profits, the stock
which must be employed in bringing them to market. Whether it is
or is not such depends upon different circumstances.
Whether a coal-mine, for example, can afford any rent
depends partly upon its fertility, and partly upon its situation.
A mine of any kind may be said to be either fertile or
barren, according as the quantity of mineral which can be brought
from it by a certain quantity of labour is greater or less than
what can be brought by an equal quantity from the greater part of
other mines of the same kind.
Some coal-mines advantageously situated cannot be wrought on
account of their barrenness. The produce does not pay the
expense. They can afford neither profit nor rent.
There are some of which the produce is barely sufficient to
pay the labour, and replace, together with it ordinary profits,
the stock employed in working them. They afford some profit to
the undertaker of the work, but no rent to the landlord. They can
be wrought advantageously by nobody but the landlord, who, being
himself undertaker of the work, gets the ordinary profit of the
capital which he employs in it. Many coal-mines in Scotland are
wrought in this manner, and can be wrought in no other. The
landlord will allow nobody else to work them without paying some
rent, and nobody can afford to pay any.
Other coal-mines in the same country, sufficiently fertile,
cannot be wrought on account of their situation. A quantity of
mineral sufficient to defray the expense of working could be
brought from the mine by the ordinary, or even less than the
ordinary, quantity of labour; but in an inland country, thinly
inhabited, and without either good roads or water-carriage, this
quantity could not be sold.
Coals are a less agreeable fuel than wood: they are said,
too, to be less wholesome. The expense of coals, therefore, at
the place where they are consumed, must generally be somewhat
less than that of wood.
The price of wood again varies with the state of
agriculture, nearly in the same manner, and exactly for the same
reason, as the price of cattle. In its rude beginnings the
greater part of every country is covered with wood, which is then
a mere encumberance of no value to the landlord, who would gladly
give it to anybody for the cutting. As agriculture advances, the
woods are partly cleared by the progress of tillage, and partly
go to decay in consequence of the increased number of cattle.
These, though they do not increase in the same proportion as
corn, which is altogether the acquisition of human industry, yet
multiply under the care and protection of men, who store up in
the season of plenty what may maintain them in that of scarcity,
who through the whole year furnish them with a greater quantity
of food than uncultivated nature provides for them, and who by
destroying and extirpating their enemies, secure them in the free
enjoyment of all that she provides. Numerous herds of cattle,
when allowed to wander through the woods, though they do not
destroy the old trees, hinder any young ones from coming up so
that in the course of a century or two the whole forest goes to
ruin. The scarcity of wood then raises its price. It affords a
good rent, and the landlord sometimes finds that he can scarce
employ his best lands more advantageously than in growing barren
timber, of which the greatness of the profit often compensates
the lateness of the returns. This seems in the present times to
be nearly the state of things in several parts of Great Britain,
where the profit of planting is found to be equal to that of
either corn or pasture. The advantage which the landlord derives
from planting can nowhere exceed, at least for any considerable
time, the rent which these could afford him; and in an inland
country which is highly cultivated, it will frequently not fall
much short of this rent. Upon the sea-coast of a well improved
country, indeed, if coals can conveniently be had for fuel, it
may sometimes be cheaper to bring barren timber for building from
less cultivated foreign countries than to raise it at home. In
the new town of Edinburgh, built within these few years, there is
not, perhaps, a single stick of Scotch timber.
Whatever may be the price of wood, if that of coals is such
that the expense of a coal fire is nearly equal to that of a wood
one, we may be assured that at that place, and in these
circumstances, the price of coals is as high as it can be. It
seems to be so in some of the inland parts of England,
particularly in Oxfordshire, where it is usual, even in the fires
of the common people, to mix coals and wood together, and where
the difference in the expense of those two sorts of fuel cannot,
therefore, be very great.
Coals, in the coal countries, are everywhere much below this
highest price. If they were not, they could not bear the expense
of a distant carriage, either by land or by water. A small
quantity only could be sold, and the coal masters and coal
proprietors find it more for their interest to sell a great
quantity at a price somewhat above the lowest, than a small
quantity at the highest. The most fertile coal-mine, too,
regulates the price of coals at all the other mines in its
neighbourhood. Both the proprietor and the undertaker of the work
find, the one that he can get a greater rent, the other that he
can get a greater profit, by somewhat underselling all their
neighbours. Their neighbours are soon obliged to sell at the same
price, though they cannot so well afford it, and though it always
diminishes, and sometimes takes away altogether both their rent
and their profit. Some works are abandoned altogether; others can
afford no rent, and can be wrought only by the proprietor.
The lowest price at which coals can be sold for any
considerable time is, like that of all other commodities, the
price which is barely sufficient to replace, together with its
ordinary profits, the stock which must be employed in bringing
them to market. At as coal-mine for which the landlord can get no
rent, but which he must either work himself or let it alone
altogether, the price of coals must generally be nearly about
this price.
Rent, even where coals afford one, has generally a smaller
share in their prices than in that of most other parts of the
rude produce of land. The rent of an estate above ground commonly
amounts to what is supposed to be a third of the gross produce;
and it is generally a rent certain and independent of the
occasional variations in the crop. In coal-mines a fifth of the
gross produce is a very great rent; a tenth the common rent, and
it is seldom a rent certain, but depends upon the occasional
variations in the produce. These are so great that, in a country
where thirty years' purchase is considered as a moderate price
for the property of a landed estate, ten years' purchase is
regarded as a good price for that of a coal-mine.
The value of a coal-mine to the proprietor frequently
depends as much upon its situation as upon its fertility. That of
a metallic mine depends more upon its fertility, and less upon
its situation. The coarse, and still more the precious metals,
when separated from the ore, are so valuable that they can
generally bear the expense of a very long land, and of the most
distant sea carriage. Their market is not confined to the
countries in the neighbourhood of the mine, but extends to the
whole world. The copper of Japan makes an article of commerce in
Europe; the iron of Spain in that of Chili and Peru. The silver
of Peru finds its way, not only to Europe, but from Europe to
China.
The price of coals in Westmoreland or Shropshire can have
little effect on their price at Newcastle; and their price in the
Lionnois can have none at all. The productions of such distant
coal-mines can never be brought into competition with one
another. But the productions of the most distant metallic mines
frequently may, and in fact commonly are. The price, therefore,
of the coarse, and still more that of the precious metals, at the
most fertile mines in the world, must necessarily more or less
affect their price at every other in it. The price of copper in
Japan must have some influence upon its price at the copper mines
in Europe. The price of silver in Peru, or the quantity either of
labour or of other goods which it will purchase there, must have
some influence on its price, not only at the silver mines of
Europe, but at those of China. After the discovery of the mines
of Peru, the silver mines of Europe were, the greater part of
them, abandoned. The value of was so much reduced that their
produce could no longer pay the expense of working them, or
replace, with a profit, the food, clothes, lodging, and other
necessaries which were consumed in that operation. This was the
case, too, with the mines of Cuba and St. Domingo, and even with
the ancient mines of Peru, after the discovery of those of
Potosi.
The price of every metal at every mine, therefore, being
regulated in some measure by its price at the most fertile mine
in the world that is actually wrought, it can at the greater part
of mines do very little more than pay the expense of working, and
can seldom afford a very high rent to the landlord. Rent,
accordingly, seems at the greater part of mines to have but a
small share in the price of the coarse, and a still smaller in
that of the precious metals. Labour and profit make up the
greater part of both.
A sixth part of the gross produce may be reckoned the
average rent of the tin mines of Cornwall the most fertile that
are known in the world, as we are told by the Reverend Mr.
Borlace, vice-warden of the stannaries. Some, he says, afford
more, and some do not afford so much. A sixth part of the gross
produce is the rent, too, of several very fertile lead mines in
Scotland.
In the silver mines of Peru, we are told by Frezier and
Ulloa, the proprietor frequently exacts no other acknowledgment
from the undertaker of the mine, but that he will grind the ore
at his mill, paying him the ordinary multure or price of
grinding. Till 1736, indeed, the tax of the King of Spain
amounted to one-fifth of the standard silver, which till then
might be considered as the real rent of the greater part of the
silver mines of Peru, the richest which have been known in the
world. If there had been no tax this fifth would naturally have
belonged to the landlord, and many mines might have been wrought
which could not then be wrought, because they could not afford
this tax. The tax of the Duke of Cornwall upon tin is supposed to
amount to more than five per cent or one-twentieth part of the
value, and whatever may be his proportion, it would naturally,
too, belong to the proprietor of the mine, if tin was duty free.
But if you add one-twentieth to one-sixth, you will find that the
whole average rent of the tin mines of Cornwall was to the whole
average rent of the silver mines of Peru as thirteen to twelve.
But the silver mines of Peru are not now able to pay even this
low rent, and the tax upon silver was, in 1736, reduced from
one-fifth to one-tenth. Even this tax upon silver, too, gives
more temptation to smuggling than the tax of one-twentieth upon
tin; and smuggling must be much easier in the precious than in
the bulky commodity. The tax of the King of Spain accordingly is
said to be very ill paid, and that of the Duke of Cornwall very
well. Rent, therefore, it is probable, makes a greater part of
the price of tin at the most fertile tin mines than it does of
silver at the most fertile silver mines in the world. After
replacing the stock employed in working those different mines,
together with its ordinary profits, the residue which remains to
the proprietor is greater, it seems, in the coarse than in the
precious metal.
Neither are the profits of the undertakers of silver mines
commonly very great in Peru. The same most respectable and
well-informed authors acquaint us, that when any person
undertakes to work a new mine in Peru, he is universally looked
upon as a man destined to bankruptcy and ruin, and is upon that
account shunned and avoided by everybody. Mining, it seems, is
considered there in the same light as here, as a lottery, in
which the prizes do not compensate the blanks, though the
greatness of some tempts many adventurers to throw away their
fortunes in such unprosperous projects.
As the sovereign, however, derives a considerable part of
his revenue from the produce of silver mines, the law in Peru
gives every possible encouragement to the discovery and working
of new ones. Whoever discovers a new mine is entitled to measure
off two hundred and forty-six feet in length, according to what
he supposes to be the direction of the vein, and half as much in
breadth. He becomes proprietor of this portion of the mine, and
can work it without paying any acknowledgment to the landlord.
The interest of the Duke of Cornwall has given occasion to a
regulation nearly of the same kind in that ancient duchy. In
waste and unenclosed lands any person who discovers a tin mine
may mark its limits to a certain extent, which is called bounding
a mine. The bounder becomes the real proprietor of the mine, and
may either work it himself, or give it in lease to another,
without the consent of the owner of the land, to whom, however, a
very small acknowledgment must be paid upon working it. In both
regulations the sacred rights of private property are sacrificed
to the supposed interests of public revenue.
The same encouragement is given in Peru to the discovery and
working of new gold mines; and in gold the king's tax amounts
only to a twentieth part of the standard metal. It was once a
fifth, and afterwards a tenth, as in silver; but it was found
that the work could not bear even the lowest of these two taxes.
If it is rare, however, say the same authors, Frezier and Ulloa,
to find a person who has made his fortune by a silver, it is
still much rarer to find one who has done so by a gold mine. This
twentieth part seems to be the whole rent which is paid by the
greater part of the gold mines in Chili and Peru. Gold, too, is
much more liable to be smuggled than even silver; not only on
account of the superior value of the metal in proportion to its
bulk, but on account of the peculiar way in which nature produces
it. Silver is very seldom found virgin, but, like most other
metals, is generally mineralized with some other body, from which
it is impossible to separate it in such quantities as will pay
for the expense, but by a very laborious and tedious operation,
which cannot well be carried on but in workhouses erected for the
purpose, and therefore exposed to the inspection of the king's
officers. Gold, on the contrary, is almost always found virgin.
It is sometimes found in pieces of some bulk; and even when mixed
in small and almost insensible particles with sand, earth, and
other extraneous bodies, it can be separated from them by a very
short and simple operation, which can be carried on in any
private house by anybody who is possessed of a small quantity of
mercury. If the king's tax, therefore, is but ill paid upon
silver, it is likely to be much worse paid upon gold; and rent,
must make a much smaller part of the price of gold than even of
that of silver.
The lowest price at which the precious metals can be sold,
or the smallest quantity of other goods for which they can be
exchanged during any considerable time, is regulated by the same
principles which fix the lowest ordinary price of all other
goods. The stock which must commonly be employed, the food, the
clothes, and lodging which must commonly be consumed in bringing
them from the mine to the market, determine it. It must at least
be sufficient to replace that stock, with the ordinary profits.
Their highest price, however, seems not to be necessarily
determined by anything but the actual scarcity or plenty of those
metals themselves. It is not determined by that of any other
commodity, in the same manner as the price of coals is by that of
wood, beyond which no scarcity can ever raise it. Increase the
scarcity of gold to a certain degree, and the smallest bit of it
may become more precious than a diamond, and exchange for a
greater quantity of other goods.
The demand for those metals arises partly from their utility
and partly from their beauty. If you except iron, they are more
useful than, perhaps, any other metal. As they are less liable to
rust and impurity, they can more easily be kept clean, and the
utensils either of the table or the kitchen are often upon that
account more agreeable when made of them. A silver boiler is more
cleanly than a lead, copper, or tin one; and the same quality
would render a gold boiler still better than a silver one. Their
principal merit, however, arises from their beauty, which renders
them peculiarly fit for the ornaments of dress and furniture. No
paint or dye can give so splendid a colour as gilding. The merit
of their beauty is greatly enhanced by their scarcity. With the
greater part of rich people, the chief enjoyment of riches
consists in the parade of riches, which in their eye is never so
complete as when they appear to possess those decisive marks of
opulence which nobody can possess but themselves. In their eyes
the merit of an object which is in any degree either useful or
beautiful is greatly enhanced by its scarcity, or by the great
labour which it requires to collect any considerable quantity of
it, a labour which nobody can afford to pay but themselves. Such
objects they are willing to purchase at a higher price than
things much more beautiful and useful, but more common. These
qualities of utility, beauty, and scarcity, are the original
foundation of the high price of those metals, or of the great
quantity of other goods for which they can everywhere be
exchanged. This value was antecedent to and independent of their
being employed as coin, and was the quality which fitted them for
that employment. That employment, however, by occasioning a new
demand, and by diminishing the quantity which could be employed
in any other way, may have afterwards contributed to keep up or
increase their value.
The demand for the precious stones arises altogether from
their beauty. They are of no use but as ornaments; and the merit
of their beauty is greatly enhanced by their scarcity, or by the
difficulty and expense of getting them from the mine. Wages and
profit accordingly make up, upon most occasions, almost the whole
of their high price. Rent comes in but for a very small share;
frequently for no share; and the most fertile mines only afford
any considerable rent. When Tavernier, a jeweller, visited the
diamond mines of Golconda and Visiapour, he was informed that the
sovereign of the country, for whose benefit they were wrought,
had ordered all of them to be shut up, except those which yield
the largest and finest stones. The others, it seems, were to the
proprietor not worth the working.
As the price both of the precious metals and of the precious
stones is regulated all over the world by their price at the most
fertile mine in it, the rent which a mine of either can afford to
its proprietor is in proportion, not to its absolute, but to what
may be called its relative fertility, or to its superiority over
other mines of the same kind. If new mines were discovered as
much superior to those of Potosi as they were superior to those
Europe, the value of silver might be so much degraded as to
render even the mines of Potosi not worth the working. Before the
discovery of the Spanish West Indies, the most fertile mines in
Europe may have afforded as great a rent to their proprietor as
the richest mines in Peru do at present. Though the quantity of
silver was much less, it might have exchanged for an equal
quantity of other goods, and the proprietor's share might have
enabled him to purchase or command an equal quantity either of
labour or of commodities. The value both of the produce and of
the rent, the real revenue which they afforded both to the public
and to the proprietor, might have been the same.
The most abundant mines either of the precious metals or of
the precious stones could add little to the wealth of the world.
A produce of which the value is principally derived from its
scarcity, is necessarily degraded by its abundance. A service of
plate, and the other frivolous ornaments of dress and furniture,
could be purchased for a smaller quantity of labour, or for a
smaller quantity of commodities; and in this would consist the
sole advantage which the world could derive from that abundance.
It is otherwise in estates above ground. The value both of
their produce and of their rent is in proportion to their
absolute, and not to their relative fertility. The land which
produces a certain quantity of food, clothes, and lodging, can
always feed, clothe, and lodge a certain number of people; and
whatever may be the proportion of the landlord, it will always
give him a proportionable command of the labour of those people,
and of the commodities with which that labour can supply him. The
value of the most barren lands is not diminished by the
neighbourhood of the most fertile. On the contrary, it is
generally increased by it. The great number of people maintained
by the fertile lands afford a market to many parts of the produce
of the barren, which they could never have found among those whom
their own produce could maintain.
Whatever increases the fertility of land in producing food
increases not only the value of the lands upon which the
improvement is bestowed, but contributes likewise to increase
that of many other lands by creating a new demand for their
produce. That abundance of food, of which, in consequence of the
improvement of land, many people have the disposal beyond what
they themselves can consume, is the great cause of the demand
both for the precious metals and the precious stone, as well as
for every other conveniency and ornament of dress, lodging,
household furniture, and equipage. Food not only constitutes the
principal part of the riches of the world, but it is the
abundance of food which gives the principal part of their value
to many other sorts of riches. The poor inhabitants of Cuba and
St. Domingo, when they were first discovered by the Spaniards,
used to wear little bits of gold as ornaments in their hair and
other parts of their dress. They seemed to value them as we would
do any little pebbles of somewhat more than ordinary beauty, and
to consider them as just worth the picking up, but not worth the
refusing to anybody who asked them. They gave them to their new
guests at the first request, without seeming to think that they
had made them any very valuable present. They were astonished to
observe the rage of the Spaniards to obtain them; and had no
notion that there could anywhere be a country in which many
people had the disposal of so great a superfluity of food, so
scanty always among themselves, that for a very small quantity of
those glittering baubles they would willingly give as much as
might maintain a whole family for many years. Could they have
been made to understand this, the passion of the Spaniards would
not have surprised them.
PART 3 Of the Variations in the
Proportion between the respective Values
of that Sort of Produce which always affords Rent, and of
that
which sometimes does and sometimes does not afford Rent
THE increasing abundance of food, in consequence of
increasing improvement and cultivation, must necessarily increase
the demand for every part of the produce of land which is not
food, and which can be applied either to use or to ornament. In
the whole progress of improvement, it might therefore be
expected, there should be only one variation in the comparative
values of those two different sorts of produce. The value of that
sort which sometimes does and sometimes does not afford rent,
should constantly rise in proportion to that which always affords
some rent. As art and industry advance, the materials of clothing
and lodging, the useful fossils and minerals of the earth, the
precious metals and the precious stones should gradually come to
be more and more in demand, should gradually exchange for a
greater and a greater quantity of food, or in other words, should
gradually become dearer and dearer. This accordingly has been the
case with most of these things upon most occasions, and would
have been the case with all of them upon all occasions, if
particular accidents had not upon some occasions increased the
supply of some of them in a still greater proportion than the
demand.
The value of a free-stone quarry, for example, will
necessarily increase with the increasing improvement and
population of the country round about it, especially if it should
be the only one in the neighbourhood. But the value of a silver
mine, even though there should not be another within a thousand
miles of it, will not necessarily increase with the improvement
of the country in which it is situated. The market for the
produce of a freestone quarry can seldom extend more than a few
miles round about it, and the demand must generally be in
proportion to the improvement and population of that small
district. But the market for the produce of a silver mine may
extend over the whole known world. Unless the world in general,
therefore, be advancing in improvement and population, the demand
for silver might not be at all increased by the improvement even
of a large country in the neighbourhood of the mine. Even though
the world in general were improving, yet if, in the course of its
improvement, new mines should be discovered, much more fertile
than any which had been known before, though the demand for
silver would necessarily increase, yet the supply might increase
in so much a greater proportion that the real price of that metal
might gradually fall; that is, any given quantity, a pound weight
of it, for example, might gradually purchase or command a smaller
and a smaller quantity of labour, or exchange for a smaller and a
smaller quantity of corn, the principal part of the subsistence
of the labourer.
The great market for silver is the commercial and civilised
part of the world.
If by the general progress of improvement the demand of this
market should increase, while at the same time the supply did not
increase in the same proportion, the value of silver would
gradually rise in proportion to that of corn. Any given quantity
of silver would exchange for a greater and a greater quantity of
corn; or, in other words, the average money price of corn would
gradually become cheaper and cheaper.
If, on the contrary, the supply by some accident should
increase for many years together in a greater proportion than the
demand, that metal would gradually become cheaper and cheaper;
or, in other words, the average money price of corn would, in
spite of all improvements, gradually become dearer and dearer.
But if, on the other hand, the supply of the metal should
increase nearly in the same proportion as the demand, it would
continue to purchase or exchange for nearly the same quantity of
corn, and the average money price of corn would, in spite of all
improvements, continue very nearly the same.
These three seem to exhaust all the possible combinations of
events which can happen in the progress of improvement; and
during the course of the four centuries preceding the present, if
we may judge by what has happened both in France and Great
Britain, each of those three different combinations seem to have
taken place in the European market, and nearly in the same order,
too, in which I have here set them down.
DIGRESSIONS CONCERNING THE VARIATIONS IN THE VALUE OF SILVER
DURING THE COURSE OF THE FOUR LAST CENTURIES
FIRST PERIOD
In 1350, and for some time before, the average price of the
quarter of wheat in England seems not to have been estimated
lower than four ounces of silver, Tower weight, equal to about
twenty shillings of our present money. From this price it seems
to have fallen gradually to two ounces of silver, equal to about
ten shillings of our present money, the price at which we find it
estimated in the beginning of the sixteenth century, and at which
it seems to have continued to be estimated till about 1570.
In 1350, being the 25th of Edward III, was enacted what is
called The Statute of Labourers. In the preamble it complains
much of the insolence of servants, who endeavoured to raise their
wages upon their masters. It therefore ordains that all servants
and labourers should for the future be contented with the same
wages and liveries (liveries in those times signified not only
clothes but provisions) which they had been accustomed to receive
in the 20th year of the king, and the four preceding years; that
upon this account their livery wheat should nowhere be estimated
higher than tenpence a bushel, and that it should always be in
the option of the master to deliver them either the wheat or the
money. Tenpence a bushel, therefore, had, in the 25th of Edward
III, been reckoned a very moderate price of wheat, since it
required a particular statute to oblige servants to accept of it
in exchange for their usual livery of provisions; and it had been
reckoned a reasonable price ten years before that, or in the 16th
year of the king, the term to which the statute refers. But in
the 16th year of Edward III, tenpence contained about half an
ounce of silver, Tower weight, and was nearly equal to
half-a-crown of our present money. Four ounces of silver, Tower
weight, therefore, equal to six shillings and eightpence of the
money of those times, and to near twenty shillings of that of the
present, must have been reckoned a moderate price for the quarter
of eight bushels.
This statute is surely a better evidence of what was
reckoned in those times a moderate price of grain than the prices
of some particular years which have generally been recorded by
historians and other writers on account of their extraordinary
dearness or cheapness, and from which, therefore, it is difficult
to form any judgment concerning what may have been the ordinary
price. There are, besides, other reasons for believing that in
the beginning of the fourteenth century, and for some time
before, the common price of wheat was not less than four ounces
of silver the quarter, and that of other grain in proportion.
In 1309, Ralph de Born, prior of St. Augustine's,
Canterbury, gave a feast upon his installation-day, of which
William Thorn has preserved not only the bill of fare but the
prices of many particulars. In that feast were consumed, first,
fifty-three quarters of wheat, which cost nineteen pounds, or
seven shillings and twopence a quarter, equal to about
one-and-twenty shillings and sixpence of our present money;
secondly, fifty-eight quarters of malt, which cost seventeen
pounds ten shillings, or six shillings a quarter, equal to about
eighteen shillings of our present money; thirdly, twenty quarters
of oats, which cost four pounds, or four shillings a quarter,
equal to about twelve shillings of our present money. The prices
of malt and oats seem here to be higher than their ordinary
proportion to the price of wheat.
These prices are not recorded on account of their
extraordinary dearness or cheapness, but are mentioned
accidentally as the prices actually paid for large quantities of
grain consumed at a feast which was famous for its magnificence.
In 1262, being the 51st of Henry M, was revived an ancient
statute called The Assize of Bread and Ale, which the king says
in the preamble had been made in the times of his progenitors,
sometime kings of England. It is probably, therefore, as old at
least as the time of his grandfather Henry H, and may have been
as old as the Conquest. It regulates the price of bread according
as the prices of wheat may happen to be, from one shilling to
twenty shillings the quarter of the money of those times. But
statutes of this kind are generally presumed to provide with
equal care for all deviations from the middle price, for those
below it as well as for those above it. Ten shillings, therefore,
containing six ounces of silver, Tower weight, and equal to about
thirty shillings of our present money, must, upon this
supposition, have been reckoned the middle price of the quarter
of wheat when this statute was first enacted, and must have
continued to be so in the 51st of Henry III. We cannot therefore
be very wrong in supposing that the middle price was not less
than one-third of the highest price at which this statute
regulates the price of bread, or than six shillings and
eightpence of the money of those times, containing four ounces of
silver, Tower weight.
From these different facts, therefore, we seem to have some
reason to conclude that, about the middle of the fourteenth
century, and for a considerable time before, the average or
ordinary price of the quarter of wheat was not supposed to be
less than four ounces of silver, Tower weight.
From about the middle of the fourteenth to the beginning of
the sixteenth century, what was reckoned the reasonable and
moderate, that is the ordinary or average price of wheat, seems
to have sunk gradually to about one-half of this price; so as at
last to have fallen to about two ounces of silver, Tower weight,
equal to about ten shillings of our present money. It continued
to be estimated at this price till about 1570.
In the household book of Henry, the fifth Earl of
Northumberland, drawn up in 1512, there are two different
estimations of wheat. In one of them it is computed at six
shillings and eightpence the quarter, in the other at five
shillings and eightpence only. In 1512, six shillings and
eightpence contained only two ounces of silver, Tower weight, and
were equal to about ten shillings of our present money.
From the 25th of Edward III to the beginning of the reign of
Elizabeth, during the space of more than two hundred years, six
shillings and eightpence, it appears from several different
statutes, had continued to be considered as what is called the
moderate and reasonable, that is the ordinary or average price of
wheat. The quantity of silver, however, contained in that nominal
sum was, during the course of this period, continually
diminishing, in consequence of some alterations which were made
in the coin. But the increase of the value of silver had, it
seems, so far compensated the diminution of the quantity of it
contained in the same nominal sum that the legislature did not
think it worth while to attend to this circumstance.
Thus in 1436 it was enacted that wheat might be exported
without a licence when the price was so low as six shillings and
eightpence; and in 1463 it was enacted that no wheat should be
imported if the price was not above six shillings and eightpence
the quarter. The legislature had imagined that when the price was
so low there could be no inconveniency in exportation, but that
when it rose higher it became prudent to allow importation. Six
shillings and eightpence, therefore, containing about the same
quantity of silver as thirteen shillings and fourpence of our
present money (one third part less than the same nominal sum
contained in the time of Edward III), had in those times been
considered as what is called the moderate and reasonable price of
wheat.
In 1554, by the 1st and 2nd of Philip and Mary; and in 1558,
by the 1st of Elizabeth, the exportation of wheat was in the same
manner prohibited, whenever the price of the quarter should
exceed six shillings and eightpence, which did not then contain
two pennyworth more silver than the same nominal sum does at
present. But it had soon been found that to restrain the
exportation of wheat till the price was so very low was, in
reality, to prohibit it altogether. In 1562, therefore, by the
5th of Elizabeth, the exportation of wheat was allowed from
certain ports whenever the price of the quarter should not exceed
ten shillings, containing nearly the same quantity of silver as
the like nominal sum does at present. This price had at this
time, therefore, been considered as what is called the moderate
and reasonable price of wheat. It agrees nearly with the
estimation of the Northumberland book in 1512.
That in France the average price of grain was, in the same
manner, much lower in the end of the fifteenth and beginning of
the sixteenth century than in the two centuries preceding has
been observed both by Mr. Dupre de St. Maur, and by the elegant
author of the Essay on the police of grain. Its price, during the
same period, had probably sunk in the same manner through the
greater part of Europe.
This rise in the value of silver in proportion to that of
corn, may either have been owing altogether to the increase of
the demand for that metal, in consequence of increasing
improvement and cultivation, the supply in the meantime
continuing the same as before; or, the demand continuing the same
as before, it may have been owing altogether to the gradual
diminution of the supply; the greater part of the mines which
were then known in the world being much exhausted, and
consequently the expense of working them much increased; or it
may have been owing partly to the other of those two
circumstances. In the end of the fifteenth and beginning of the
sixteenth centuries, the greater part of Europe was approaching
towards a more settled form of government than it had enjoyed for
several ages before. The increase of security would naturally
increase industry and improvement; and the demand for the
precious metals, as well as for every other luxury and ornament,
would naturally increase with the increase of riches. A greater
annual produce would require a greater quantity of coin to
circulate it; and a greater number of rich people would require a
greater quantity of plate and other ornaments of silver. It is
natural to suppose, too, that the greater part of the mines which
then supplied the European market with silver might be a good
deal exhausted, and have become more expensive in the working.
They had been wrought many of them from the time of the Romans.
It has been the opinion, however, of the greater part of
those who have written upon the price of commodities in ancient
times that, from the Conquest, perhaps from the invasion of
Julius Caesar till the discovery of the mines of America, the
value of silver was continually diminishing. This opinion they
seem to have been led into, partly by the observations which they
had occasion to make upon the prices both of corn and of some
other parts of the rude produce of land; and partly by the
popular notion that as the quantity of silver naturally increases
in every country with the increase of wealth, so its value
diminishes as its quantity increases.
In their observations upon the prices of corn, three
different circumstances seem frequently to have misled them.
First, in ancient times almost all rents were paid in kind;
in a certain quantity of corn, cattle, poultry, etc. It sometimes
happened, however, that the landlord would stipulate that he
should be at liberty to demand of the tenant, either the annual
payment in kind, or a certain sum of money instead of it. The
price at which the payment in kind was in this manner exchanged
for a certain sum of money is in Scotland called the conversion
price. As the option is always in the landlord to take either the
substance or the price, it is necessary for the safety of the
tenant that the conversion price should rather be below than
above the average market price. In many places, accordingly, it
is not much above one-half of this price. Through the greater
part of Scotland this custom still continues with regard to
poultry, and in some places with regard to cattle. It might
probably have continued to take place, too, with regard to corn,
had not the institution of the public fiars put an end to it.
These are annual valuations, according to the judgment of an
assize, of the average price of all the different sorts of grain,
and of all the different qualities of each, according to the
actual market price in every different county. This institution
rendered it sufficiently safe for the tenant, and much more
convenient for the landlord, to convert, as they call it, the
corn rent, rather at what should happen to be the price of the
fiars of each year, than at any certain fixed price. But the
writers who have collected the prices of corn in ancient times
seem frequently to have mistaken what is called in Scotland the
conversion price for the actual market price. Fleetwood
acknowledges, upon one occasion, that he had made this mistake.
As he wrote his book, however, for a particular purpose, he does
not think proper to make this acknowledgment till after
transcribing this conversion price fifteen times. The price is
eight shillings the quarter of wheat. This sum in 1423, the year
at which he begins with it, contained the same quantity of silver
as sixteen shillings of our present money. But in 1562, the year
at which he ends with it, it contained no more than the same
nominal sum does at present.
Secondly, they have been misled by the slovenly manner in
which some ancient statutes of assize had been sometimes
transcribed by lazy copiers; and sometimes perhaps actually
composed by the legislature.
The ancient statutes of assize seem to have begun always
with determining what ought to be the price of bread and ale when
the price of wheat and barley were at the lowest, and to have
proceeded gradually to determine what it ought to be, according
as the prices of those two sorts of grain should gradually rise
above this lowest price. But the transcribers of those statutes
seem frequently to have thought it sufficient to copy the
regulation as far as the three or four first and lowest prices,
saving in this manner their own labour, and judging, I suppose,
that this was enough to show what proportion ought to be observed
in all higher prices.
Thus in the Assize of Bread and Ale, of the 51st of Henry
III, the price of bread was regulated according to the different
prices of wheat, from one shilling to twenty shillings the
quarter, of the money of those times. But in the manuscripts from
which all the different editions of the statutes, preceding that
of Mr. Ruffhead, were printed, the copiers had never transcribed
this regulation beyond the price of twelve shillings. Several
writers, therefore, being misled by this faulty transcription,
very naturally concluded that the middle price, or six shillings
the quarter, equal to about eighteen shillings of our present
money, was the ordinary or average price of wheat at that time.
In the Statute of Tumbrel and Pillory, enacted nearly about
the same time, the price of ale is regulated according to every
sixpence rise in the price of barley, from two shillings to four
shillings the quarter. That four shillings, however, was not
considered as the highest price to which barley might frequently
rise in those times, and that these prices were only given as an
example of the proportion which ought to be observed in all other
prices, whether higher or lower, we may infer from the last words
of the statute: et sic deinceps crescetur vel diminuetur per sex
denarios. The expression is very slovenly, but the meaning is
plain enough: "That the price of ale is in this manner to be
increased or diminished according to every sixpence rise or fall
in the price of barley." In the composition of this statute the
legislature itself seems to have been as negligent as the copiers
were in the transcription of the others.
In an ancient manuscript of the Regiam Majestatem, an old
Scotch law book, there is a statute of assize in which the price
of bread is regulated according to all the different prices of
wheat, from tenpence to three shillings the Scotch boll, equal to
about half an English quarter. Three shillings Scotch, at the
time when this assize is supposed to have been enacted were equal
to about nine shillings sterling of our present money. Mr.
Ruddiman seems to conclude from this, that three shillings was
the highest price to which wheat ever rose in those times, and
that tenpence, a shilling, or at most two shillings, were the
ordinary prices. Upon consulting the manuscript, however, it
appears evidently that all these prices are only set down as
examples of the proportion which ought to be observed between the
respective prices of wheat and bread. The last words of the
statute are: reliqua judicabis secundum proescripta habendo
respectum ad pretium bladi. "You shall judge of the remaining
cases according to what is above written, having a respect to the
price of corn."
Thirdly, they seem to have been misled, too, by the very low
price at which wheat was sometimes sold in very ancient times;
and to have imagined that as its lowest price was then much lower
than in later times, its ordinary price must likewise have been
much lower. They might have found, however, that in those ancient
times its highest price was fully as much above, as its lowest
price was below anything that had even been known in later times.
Thus in 1270, Fleetwood gives us two prices of the quarter of
wheat. The one is four pounds sixteen shillings of the money of
those times, equal to fourteen pounds eight shillings of that of
the present; the other is six pounds eight shillings, equal to
nineteen pounds four shillings of our present money. No price can
be found in the end of the fifteenth, or beginning of the
sixteenth century, which approaches to the extravagance of these.
The price of corn, though at all times liable to variation,
varies most in those turbulent and disorderly societies, in which
the interruption of all commerce and communication hinders the
plenty of one part of the country from relieving the scarcity of
another. In the disorderly state of England under the
Plantagenets, who governed it from about the middle of the
twelfth till towards the end of the fifteenth century, one
district might be in plenty, while another at no great distance,
by having its crop destroyed either by some accident of the
seasons, or by the incursion of some neighbouring baron, might be
suffering all the horrors of a famine; and yet if the lands of
some hostile lord were interposed between them, the one might not
be able to give the least assistance to the other. Under the
vigorous administration of the Tudors, who governed England
during the latter part of the fifteenth and through the whole of
the sixteenth century, no baron was powerful enough to dare to
disturb the public security.
The reader will find at the end of this chapter all the
prices of wheat which have been collected by Fleetwood from 1202
to 1597, both inclusive, reduced to the money of the present
times, and digested according to the order of time, into seven
divisions of twelve years each. At the end of each division, too,
he will find the average price of the twelve years of which it
consists. In that long period of time, Fleetwood has been able to
collect the prices of no more than eighty years, so that four
years are wanting to make out the last twelve years. I have
added, therefore, from the accounts of Eton college, the prices
of 1598, 1599, 1600, and 1601. It is the only addition which I
have made. The reader will see that from the beginning of the
thirteenth till after the middle of the sixteenth century the
average price of each twelve years grows gradually lower and
lower; and that towards the end of the sixteenth century it
begins to rise again. The prices, indeed, which Fleetwood has
been able to collect, seem to have been those chiefly which were
remarkable for extraordinary dearness or cheapness; and I do not
pretend that any very certain conclusion can be drawn from them.
So far, however, as they prove anything at all, they confirm the
account which I have been endeavouring to give. Fleetwood
himself, however, seems, with most other writers, to have
believed that during all this period the value of silver, in
consequence of its increasing abundance, was continually
diminishing. The prices of corn which he himself has collected
certainly do not agree with this opinion. They agree perfectly
with that of Mr. Dupre de St. Maur, and with that which I have
been endeavouring to explain. Bishop Fleetwood and Mr. Dupre de
St. Maur are the two authors who seem to have collected, with the
greatest diligence and fidelity, the prices of things in ancient
times. It is somewhat curious that, though their opinions are so
very different, their facts, so far as they relate to the price
of corn at least, should coincide so very exactly.
It is not, however, so much from the low price of corn as
from that of some other parts of the rude produce of land that
the most judicious writers have inferred the great value of
silver in those very ancient times. Corn, it has been said, being
a sort of manufacture, was, in those rude ages, much dearer in
proportion than the greater part of other commodities; it is
meant, I suppose, than the greater part of unmanufactured
commodities, such as cattle, poultry, game of all kinds, etc.
That in those times of poverty and barbarism these were
proportionably much cheaper than corn is undoubtedly true. But
this cheapness was not the effect of the high value of silver,
but of the low value of those commodities. It was not because
silver would in such times purchase or represent a greater
quantity of labour, but because such commodities would purchase
or represent a much smaller quantity than in times of more
opulence and improvement. Silver must certainly be cheaper in
Spanish America than in Europe; in the country where it is
produced than in the country to which it is brought, at the
expense of a long carriage both by land and by sea, of a freight
and an insurance. One-and-twenty pence halfpenny sterling,
however, we are told by Ulloa, was, not many years ago, at Buenos
Ayres, the price of an ox chosen from a herd of three or four
hundred. Sixteen shillings sterling, we are told by Mr. Byron was
the price of a good horse in the capital of Chili. In a country
naturally fertile, but of which the far greater part is
altogether uncultivated, cattle, poultry, game of all kinds,
etc., as they can be acquired with a very small quantity of
labour, so they will purchase or command but a very small
quantity. The low money price for which they may be sold is no
proof that the real value of silver is there very high, but that
the real value of those commodities is very low.
Labour, it must always be remembered, and not any particular
commodity or set of commodities, is the real measure of the value
both of silver and of all other commodities.
But in countries almost waste, or but thinly inhabited,
cattle, poultry, game of all kinds, etc., as they are the
spontaneous productions of nature, so she frequently produces
them in much greater quantities than the consumption of the
inhabitants requires. In such a state of things the supply
commonly exceeds the demand. In different states of society, in
different stages of improvement, therefore, such commodities will
represent, or be equivalent to, very different quantities of
labour.
In every state of society, in every stage of improvement,
corn is the production of human industry. But the average produce
of every sort of industry is always suited, more or less exactly,
to the average consumption; the average supply to the average
demand. In every different stage of improvement, besides, the
raising of equal quantities of corn in the same soil and climate
will, at an average, require nearly equal quantities of labour;
or what comes to the same thing, the price of nearly equal
quantities; the continual increase of the productive powers of
labour in an improving state of cultivation being more or less
counterbalanced by the continually increasing price of cattle,
the principal instruments of agriculture. Upon all these
accounts, therefore, we may rest assured that equal quantities of
corn will, in every state of society, in every stage of
improvement, more nearly represent, or be equivalent to, equal
quantities of labour than equal quantities of any other part of
the rude produce of land. Corn, accordingly, it has already been
observed, is, in all the different stages of wealth and
improvement, a more accurate measure of value than any other
commodity or set of commodities. In all those different stages,
therefore, we can judge better of the real value of silver by
comparing it with corn than by comparing it with any other
commodity or set of commodities.
Corn, besides, or whatever else is the common and favourite
vegetable food of the people, constitutes, in every civilised
country, the principal part of the subsistence of the labourer.
In consequence of the extension of agriculture, the land of every
country produces a much greater quantity of vegetable than of
animal food, and the labourer everywhere lives chiefly upon the
wholesome food that is cheapest and most abundant. Butcher's
meat, except in the most thriving countries, or where labour is
most highly rewarded, makes but an insignificant part of his
subsistence; poultry makes a still smaller part of it, and game
no part of it. In France, and even in Scotland, where labour is
somewhat better rewarded than in France, the labouring poor
seldom eat butcher's meat, except upon holidays, and other
extraordinary occasions. The money price of labour, therefore,
depends much more upon the average money price of corn, the
subsistence of the labourer, than upon that of butcher's meat, or
of any other part of the rude produce of land. The real value of
gold and silver, therefore, the real quantity of labour which
they can purchase or command, depends much more upon the quantity
of corn which they can purchase or command than upon that of
butcher's meat, or any other part of the rude produce of land.
Such slight observations, however, upon the prices either of
corn or of other commodities, would not probably have misled so
many intelligent authors had they not been influenced, at the
same time, by the popular notion, that as the quantity of silver
naturally increases in every country with the increase of so its
value diminishes as its quantity increases. This notion, however,
seems to be altogether groundless.
The quantity of the precious metals may increase in any
country from two different causes; either, first, from the
increased abundance of the mines which supply it; or, secondly,
from the increased wealth of the people, from the increased
produce of their annual labour. The first of these causes is no
doubt necessarily connected with the diminution of the value of
the precious metals, but the second is not.
When more abundant mines are discovered, a greater quantity
of the precious metals is brought to market, and the quantity of
the necessaries and conveniencies of life for which they must be
exchanged being the same as before, equal quantities of the
metals must be exchanged for smaller quantities of commodities.
So far, therefore, as the increase of the quantity of the
precious metals in any country arises from the increased
abundance of the mines, it is necessarily connected with some
diminution of their value.
When, on the contrary, the wealth of any country increases,
when the annual produce of its labour becomes gradually greater
and greater, a greater quantity of coin becomes necessary in
order to circulate a greater quantity of commodities; and the
people, as they can afford it, as they have more commodities to
give for it, will naturally purchase a greater and a greater
quantity of plate. The quantity of their coin will increase from
necessity; the quantity of their plate from vanity and
ostentation, or from the same reason that the quantity of fine
statues, pictures, and of every other luxury and curiosity, is
likely to increase among them. But as statuaries and painters are
not likely to be worse rewarded in times of wealth and prosperity
than in times of poverty and depression, so gold and silver are
not likely to be worse paid for.
The price of gold and silver, when the accidental discovery
of more abundant mines does not keep it down, as it naturally
rises with the wealth of every country, so, whatever be the state
of the mines, it is at all times naturally higher in a rich than
in a poor country. Gold and silver, like all other commodities,
naturally seek the market where the best price is given for them,
and the best price is commonly given for every thing in the
country which can best afford it. Labour, it must be remembered,
is the ultimate price which is paid for everything, and in
countries where labour is equally well regarded, the money price
of labour will be in proportion to that of the subsistence of the
labourer. But gold and silver will naturally exchange for a
greater quantity of subsistence in a rich than in a poor country,
in a country which abounds with subsistence than in one which is
but indifferently supplied with it. If the two countries are at a
great distance, the difference may be very great; because though
the metals naturally fly from the worse to the better market, yet
it may be difficult to transport them in such quantities as to
bring their price nearly to a level in both. If the countries are
near, the difference will be smaller, and may sometimes be scarce
perceptible; because in this case the transportation will be
easy. China is a much richer country than any part of Europe, and
the difference between the price of subsistence in China and in
Europe is very great. Rice in China is much cheaper than wheat is
anywhere in Europe. England is a much richer country than
Scotland; but the difference between the money-price of corn in
those two countries is much smaller, and is but just perceptible.
In proportion to the quantity or measure, Scotch corn generally
appears to be a good deal cheaper than English; but in proportion
to its quality, it is certainly somewhat dearer. Scotland
receives almost every year very large supplies from England, and
every commodity must commonly be somewhat dearer in the country
to which it is brought than in that from which it comes. English
corn, therefore, must be dearer in Scotland than in England, and
yet in proportion to its quality, or to the quantity and goodness
of the flour or meal which can be made from it, it cannot
commonly be sold higher there than the Scotch corn which comes to
market in competition with it.
The difference between the money price of labour in China
and in Europe is still greater than that between the money price
of subsistence; because the real recompense of labour is higher
in Europe than in China, the greater part of Europe being in an
improving state, while China seems to be standing still. The
money price of labour is lower in Scotland than in England
because the real recompense of labour is much lower; Scotland,
though advancing to greater wealth, advancing much more slowly
than England. The frequency of emigration from Scotland, and the
rarity of it from England, sufficiently prove that the demand for
labour is very different in the two countries. The proportion
between the real recompense of labour in different countries, it
must be remembered, is naturally regulated not by their actual
wealth or poverty, but by their advancing, stationary, or
declining condition.
Gold and silver, as they are naturally of the greatest value
among the richest, so they are naturally of the least value among
the poorest nations. Among savages, the poorest of all nations,
they are of scarce any value.
In great towns corn is always dearer than in remote parts of
the country. This, however, is the effect, not of the real
cheapness of silver, but of the real dearness of corn. It does
not cost less labour to bring silver to the great town than to
the remote parts of the country; but it costs a great deal more
to bring corn.
In some very rich and commercial countries, such as Holland
and the territory of Genoa, corn is dear for the same reason that
it is dear in great towns. They do not produce enough to maintain
their inhabitants. They are rich in the industry and skill of
their artificers and manufacturers; in every sort of machinery
which can facilitate and abridge labour; in shipping, and in all
the other instruments and means of carriage and commerce: but
they are poor in corn, which, as it must be brought to them from
distant countries, must, by an addition to its price, pay for the
carriage from those countries. It does not cost less labour to
bring silver to Amsterdam than to Dantzic; but it costs a great
deal more to bring corn. The real cost of silver must be nearly
the same in both places; but that of corn must be very different.
Diminish the real opulence either of Holland or of the territory
of Genoa, while the number of their inhabitants remains the same:
diminish their power of supplying themselves from distant
countries; and the price of corn, instead of sinking with that
diminution in the quantity of their silver, which must
necessarily accompany this declension either as its cause or as
its effect, will rise to the price of a famine. When we are in
want of necessaries we must part with all superfluities, of which
the value, as it rises in times of opulence and prosperity, so it
sinks in times of poverty and distress. It is otherwise with
necessaries. Their real price, the quantity of labour which they
can purchase or command, rises in times of poverty and distress,
and sinks in times of opulence and prosperity, which are always
times of great abundance; for they could not otherwise be times
of opulence and prosperity. Corn is a necessary, silver is only a
superfluity.
Whatever, therefore, may have been the increase in the
quantity of the precious metals, which, during the period between
the middle of the fourteenth and that of the sixteenth century,
arose from the increase of wealth and improvement, it could have
no tendency to diminish their value either in Great Britain or in
any other part of Europe. If those who have collected the prices
of things in ancient times, therefore, had, during this period,
no reason to infer the diminution of the value of silver, from
any observations which they had made upon the prices either of
corn or of other commodities, they had still less reason to infer
it from any supposed increase of wealth and improvement.
SECOND PERIOD
But how various soever may have been the opinions of the
learned concerning the progress of the value of silver during
this first period, they are unanimous concerning it during the
second.
From about 1570 to about 1640, during a period of about
seventy years, the variation in the proportion between the value
of silver and that of corn held a quite opposite course. Silver
sunk in its real value, or would exchange for a smaller quantity
of labour than before; and corn rose in its nominal price, and
instead of being commonly sold for about two ounces of silver the
quarter, or about ten shillings of our present money, came to be
sold for six and eight ounces of silver the quarter, or about
thirty and forty shillings of our present money.
The discovery of the abundant mines of America seems to have
been the sole cause of this diminution in the value of silver in
proportion to that of corn. It is accounted for accordingly in
the same manner by everybody; and there never has been any
dispute either about the fact or about the cause of it. The
greater part of Europe was, during this period, advancing in
industry and improvement, and the demand for silver must
consequently have been increasing. But the increase of the supply
had, it seems, so far exceeded that of the demand, that the value
of that metal sunk considerably. The discovery of the mines of
America, it is to be observed, does not seem to have had any very
sensible effect upon the prices of things in England till after
1570; though even the mines of Potosi had been discovered more
than twenty years before.
From 1595 to 1620, both inclusive, the average price of the
quarter of nine bushels of the best wheat at Windsor market
appears, from the accounts of Eton College, to have been L2 1s. 6
3/4d. From which sum, neglecting the fraction, and deducting a
ninth, or 4s. 7 1\3d., the price of the quarter of eight bushels
comes out to have been L1 16s. 10 2/3d. And from this sum,
neglecting likewise the fraction, and deducting a ninth, or 4s.
1d., for the difference between the price of the best wheat and
that of the middle wheat, the price of the middle wheat comes out
to have been about L1 12s. 9d., or about six ounces and one-third
of an ounce of silver.
From 1621 to 1636, both inclusive, the average price of the
same measure of the best wheat at the same market appears, from
the same accounts, to have been L2 10s.; from which making the
like deductions as in the foregoing case, the average price of
the quarter of eight bushels of middle wheat comes out to have
been L1 19s. 6d., or about seven ounces and two-thirds of an
ounce of silver.
THIRD PERIOD
Between 1630 and 1640, or about 1636, the effect of the
discovery of the mines of America in reducing the value of silver
appears to have been completed, and the value of that metal seems
never to have sunk lower in proportion to that of corn than it
was about that time. It seems to have risen somewhat in the
course of the present century, and it had probably begun to do so
even some time before the end of the last.
From 1637 to 1700, both inclusive, being the sixty-four last
years of the last century, the average price of the quarter of
nine bushels of the best wheat at Windsor market appears, from
the same accounts, to have been L2 11s. O 1\3d., which is only 1s
O 1\3d. dearer than it had been during the sixteen years before.
But in the course of these sixty-four years there happened two
events which must have produced a much greater scarcity of corn
than what the course of the seasons would otherwise have
occasioned, and which, therefore, without supposing any further
reduction in the value of silver, will much more than account for
this very small enhancement of price.
The first of these events was the civil war, which, by
discouraging tillage and interrupting commerce, must have raised
the price of corn much above what the course of the seasons would
otherwise have occasioned. It must have had this effect more or
less at all the different markets in the kingdom, but
particularly at those in the neighbourhood of London, which
require to be supplied from the greatest distance. In 1648,
accordingly, the price of the best wheat at Windsor market
appears, from the same accounts, to have been L4 5s., and in 1649
to have been L4 the quarter of nine bushels. The excess of those
two years above L2 10s. (the average price of the sixteen years
preceding 1637) is L3 5s.; which divided among the sixty-four
last years of the last century will alone very nearly account for
that small enhancement of price which seems to have taken place
in them. These, however, though the highest, are by no means the
only high prices which seem to have been occasioned by the civil
wars.
The second event was the bounty upon the exportation of corn
granted in 1688. The bounty, it has been thought by many people,
by encouraging tillage, may, in a long course of years, have
occasioned a greater abundance, and consequently a greater
cheapness of corn in the home-market than what would otherwise
have taken place there. How far the bounty could produce this
effect at any time, I shall examine hereafter; I shall only
observe at present that, between 1688 and 1700, it had not time
to produce any such effect. During this short period its only
effect must have been, by encouraging the exportation of the
surplus produce of every year, and thereby hindering the
abundance of one year from compensating the scarcity of another,
to raise the price in the home-market. The scarcity which
prevailed in England from 1693 to 1699, both inclusive, though no
doubt principally owing to the badness of the seasons, and,
therefore, extending through a considerable part of Europe, must
have been somewhat enhanced by the bounty. In 1699, accordingly,
the further exportation of corn was prohibited for nine months.
There was a third event which occurred in the course of the
same period, and which, though it could not occasion any scarcity
of corn, nor, perhaps, any augmentation in the real quantity of
silver which was usually paid for it, must necessarily have
occasioned some augmentation in the nominal sum. This event was
the great debasement of the silver coin, by clipping and wearing.
This evil had begun in the reign of Charles II and had gone on
continually increasing till 1695; at which time, as we may learn
from Mr. Lowndes, the current silver coin was, at an average,
near five-and-twenty per cent below its standard value. But the
nominal sum which constitutes the market price of every commodity
is necessarily regulated, not so much by the quantity of silver,
which, according to the standard, ought to be contained in it, as
by that which, it is found by experience, actually is contained
in it. This nominal sum, therefore, is necessarily higher when
the coin is much debased by clipping and wearing than when near
to its standard value.
In the course of the present century, the silver coin has
not at any time been more below its standard weight than it is at
present. But though very much defaced, its value has been kept up
by that of the gold coin for which it is exchanged. For though
before the late recoinage, the gold coin was a good deal defaced
too, it was less so than the silver. In 1695, on the contrary,
the value of the silver coin was not kept up by the gold coin; a
guinea then commonly exchanging for thirty shillings of the worn
and clipt silver. Before the late recoinage of the gold, the
price of silver bullion was seldom higher than five shillings and
sevenpence an ounce, which is but fivepence above the mint price.
But in 1695, the common price of silver bullion was six shillings
and fivepence an ounce, which is fifteenpence above the mint
price. Even before the late recoinage of the gold, therefore, the
coin, gold and silver together, when compared with silver
bullion, was not supposed to be more than eight per cent below
its standard value. In 1695, on the contrary, it had been
supposed to be near five-and-twenty per cent below that value.
But in the beginning of the present century, that is, immediately
after the great recoinage in King William's time. the greater
part of the current silver coin must have been still nearer to
its standard weight than it is at present. In the course of the
present century, too, there has been no great public calamity,
such as the civil war, which could either discourage tillage, or
interrupt the interior commerce of the country. And though the
bounty, which has taken place through the greater part of this
century, must always raise the price of corn somewhat higher than
it otherwise would be in the actual state of tillage; yet as, in
the course of this century, the bounty has had full time to
produce all the good effects commonly imputed to it, to encourage
tillage, and thereby to increase the quantity of corn in the home
market, it may, upon the principles of a system which I shall
explain and examine hereafter, be supposed to have done something
to lower the price of that commodity the one way, as well as to
raise it the other. It is by many people supposed to have done
more. In the sixty-four first years of the present century
accordingly the average price of the quarter of nine bushels of
the best wheat at Windsor market appears, by the accounts of Eton
College, to have been L2 os. 6 1/2d., which is about ten
shillings and sixpence, or more than five-and-twenty per cent,
cheaper than it had been during the sixty-four last years of the
last century; and about 9s. 6d. cheaper than it had been during
the sixteen years preceding 1636, when the discovery of the
abundant mines of America may be supposed to have produced its
full effect; and about one shilling cheaper than it had been in
the twenty-six years preceding 1620, before that discovery can
well be supposed to have produced its full effect. According to
this account, the average price of middle wheat, during these
sixty-four first years of the present century, comes out to have
been about thirty-two shillings the quarter of eight bushels.
The value of silver, therefore, seems to have risen somewhat
in proportion to that of corn during the course of the present
century, and it had probably begun to do so even some time before
the end of the last.
In 1687, the price of the quarter of nine bushels of the
best wheat at Windsor market was L1 5s. 2d. the lowest price at
which it had ever been from 1595.
In 1688, Mr. Gregory King, a man famous for his knowledge in
matters of this kind, estimated the average price of wheat in
years of moderate plenty to be to the grower 3s. 6d. the bushel,
or eight-and-twenty shillings the quarter. The grower's price I
understand to be the same with what is sometimes called the
contract price, or the price at which a farmer contracts for a
certain number of years to deliver a certain quantity of corn to
a dealer. As a contract of this kind saves the farmer the expense
and trouble of marketing, the contract price is generally lower
than what is supposed to be the average market price. Mr. King
had judged eight-and-twenty shillings the quarter to be at that
time the ordinary contract price in years of moderate plenty.
Before the scarcity occasioned by the late extraordinary course
of bad seasons, it was, I have been assured, the ordinary
contract price in all common years.
In 1688 was granted the Parliamentary bounty upon the
exportation of corn. The country gentlemen, who then composed a
still greater proportion of the legislature than they do at
present, had felt that the money price of corn was falling. The
bounty was an expedient to raise it artificially to the high
price at which it had frequently been sold in the times of
Charles I and III. It was to take place, therefore, till wheat
was so high as forty-eight shillings the quarter, that is, twenty
shillings, or five-sevenths dearer than Mr. King had in that very
year estimated the grower's price to be in times of moderate
plenty. If his calculations deserve any part of the reputation
which they have obtained very universally, eight-and-forty
shillings the quarter was a price which, without some such
expedient as the bounty, could not at that time be expected,
except in years of extraordinary scarcity. But the government of
King William was not then fully settled. It was in no condition
to refuse anything to the country gentlemen, from whom it was at
that very time soliciting the first establishment of the annual
land-tax.
The value of silver, therefore, in proportion to that of
corn, had probably risen somewhat before the end of the last
century; and it seems to have continued to do so during the
course of the greater part of the present; though the necessary
operation of the bounty must have hindered that rise from being
so sensible as it otherwise would have been in the actual state
of tillage.
In plentiful years the bounty, by occasioning an
extraordinary exportation, necessarily raises the price of corn
above what it otherwise would be in those years. To encourage
tillage, by keeping up the price of corn even in the most
plentiful years, was the avowed end of the institution.
In years of great scarcity, indeed, the bounty has generally
been suspended. It must, however, have had some effect even upon
the prices of many of those years. By the extraordinary
exportation which it occasions in years of plenty, it must
frequently hinder the plenty of one year from compensating the
scarcity of another.
Both in years of plenty and in years of scarcity, therefore,
the bounty raises the price of corn above what it naturally would
be in the actual state of tillage. If, during the sixty-four
first years of the present century, therefore, the average price
has been lower than during the sixty-four last years of the last
century, it must, in the same state of tillage, have been much
more so, had it not been for this operation of the bounty.
But without the bounty, it may be said, the state of tillage
would not have been the same. What may have been the effects of
this institution upon the agriculture of the country, I shall
endeavour to explain hereafter, when I come to treat particularly
of bounties. I shall only observe at present that this rise in
the value of silver, in proportion to that of corn, has not been
peculiar to England. It has been observed to have taken place in
France, during the same period, and nearly in the same proportion
too, by three very faithful, diligent, and laborious collectors
of the prices of corn, Mr. Dupre de St. Maur, Mr. Messance, and
the author of the Essay on the police of grain. But in France,
till 1764, the exportation of grain was by law prohibited; and it
is somewhat difficult to suppose that nearly the same diminution
of price which took place in one country, notwithstanding this
prohibition, should in another be owing to the extraordinary
encouragement given to exportation.
It would be more proper, perhaps, to consider this variation
in the average money price of corn as the effect rather of some
gradual rise in the real value of silver in the European market
than of any fall in the real average value of corn. Corn, it has
already been observed, is at distant periods of time a more
accurate measure of value than either silver, or perhaps any
other commodity. When, after the discovery of the abundant mines
of America, corn rose to three and four times its former money
price, this change was universally ascribed, not to any rise in
the real value of corn, but to a fall in the real value of
silver. If during the sixty-four first years of the present
century, therefore, the average money price of corn has fallen
somewhat below what it had been during the greater part of the
last century, we should in the same manner impute this change,
not to any fall in the real value of corn, but to some rise in
the real value of silver in the European market.
The high price of corn during these ten or twelve years
past, indeed, has occasioned a suspicion that the real value of
silver still continues to fall in the European market. This high
price of corn, however, seems evidently to have been the effect
of the extraordinary unfavourableness of the seasons, and ought
therefore to be regarded, not as a permanent, but as a transitory
and occasional event. The seasons for these ten or twelve years
past have been unfavourable through the greater part of Europe;
and the disorders of Poland have very much increased the scarcity
in all those countries which, in dear years, used to be supplied
from that market. So long a course of bad seasons, though not a
very common event, is by no means a singular one; and whoever has
inquired much into the history of the prices of corn in former
times will be at no loss to recollect several other examples of
the same kind. Ten years of extraordinary scarcity, besides, are
not more wonderful than ten years of extraordinary plenty. The
low price of corn from 1741 to 1750, both inclusive, may very
well be set in opposition to its high price during these last
eight or ten years. From 1741 to 1750, the average price of the
quarter of nine bushels of the best wheat at Windsor market, it
appears from the accounts of Eton College, was only L1 13s. 9
1/2d., which is nearly 6s. 3d. below the average price of the
sixty-four first years of the present century. The average price
of the quarter of eight bushels of middle wheat comes out,
according to this account, to have been, during these ten years,
only 51 6s. 8d.
Between 1741 and 1750, however, the bounty must have
hindered the price of corn from falling so low in the home market
as it naturally would have done. During these ten years the
quantity of all sorts of grain exported, it appears from the
custom-house books, amounted to no less than eight millions
twenty-nine thousand one hundred and fifty-six quarters one
bushel. The bounty paid for this amounted to L1,514,962 17s. 4
1/2d. In 1749 accordingly, Mr. Pelham, at that time Prime
Minister, observed to the House of Commons that for the three
years preceding a very extraordinary sum had been paid as bounty
for the exportation of corn. He had good reason to make this
observation, and in the following year he might have had still
better. In that single year the bounty paid amounted to no less
than L324,176 10s. 6d. It is unnecessary to observe how much this
forced exportation must have raised the price of corn above what
it otherwise would have been in the home market.
At the end of the accounts annexed to this chapter the
reader will find the particular account of those ten years
separated from the rest. He will find there, too, the particular
account of the preceding ten years, of which the average is
likewise below, though not so much below, the general average of
the sixty-four first years of the century. The year 1740,
however, was a year of extraordinary scarcity. These twenty years
preceding 1750 may very well be set in opposition to the twenty
preceding 1770. As the former were a good deal below the general
average of the century, notwithstanding the intervention of one
or two dear years; so the latter have been a good deal above it,
notwithstanding the intervention of one or two cheap ones, of
1759, for example. If the former have not been as much below the
general average as the latter have been above it, we ought
probably to impute it to the bounty. The change has evidently
been too sudden to be ascribed to any change in the value of
silver, which is always slow and gradual. The suddenness of the
effect can be accounted for only by a cause which can operate
suddenly, the accidental variation of the seasons.
The money price of labour in Great Britain has, indeed,
risen during the course of the present century. This, however,
seems to be the effect, not so much of any diminution in the
value of silver in the European market, as of an increase in the
demand for labour in Great Britain, arising from the great, and
almost universal prosperity of the country. In France, a country
not altogether so prosperous, the money price of labour has,
since the middle of the last century, been observed to sink
gradually with the average money price of corn. Both in the last
century and in the present the day-wages of common labour are
there said to have been pretty uniformly about the twentieth part
of the average price of the septier of wheat, a measure which
contains a little more than four Winchester bushels. In Great
Britain the real recompense of labour, it has already been shown,
the real quantities of the necessaries and conveniencies of life
which are given to the labourer, has increased considerably
during the course of the present century. The rise in its money
price seems to have been the effect, not of any diminution of the
value of silver in the general market of Europe, but of a rise in
the real price of labour in the particular market of Great
Britain, owing to the peculiarly happy circumstances of the
country.
For some time after the first discovery of America, silver
would continue to sell at its former, or not much below its
former price. The profits of mining would for some time be very
great, and much above their natural rate. Those who imported that
metal into Europe, however, would soon find that the whole annual
importation could not be disposed of at this high price. Silver
would gradually exchange for a smaller and a smaller quantity of
goods. Its price would sink gradually lower and lower till it
fell to its natural price, or to what was just sufficient to pay,
according to their natural rates, the wages of the labour, the
profits of the stock, and the rent of the land, which must be
paid in order to bring it from the mine to the market. In the
greater part of the silver mines of Peru, the tax of the King of
Spain, amounting to a tenth of the gross produce, eats up, it has
already been observed, the whole rent of the land. This tax was
originally a half; it soon afterwards fell to a third, then to a
fifth, and at last to a tenth, at which rate it still continues.
In the greater part of the silver mines of Peru this, it seems,
is all that remains after replacing the stock of the undertaker
of the work, together with its ordinary profits; and it seems to
be universally acknowledged that these profits, which were once
very high, are now as low as they can well be, consistently with
carrying on their works.
The tax of the King of Spain was reduced to a fifth part of
the registered silver in 1504, one-and-forty years before 1545,
the date of the discovery of the mines of Potosi. In the course
of ninety years, or before 1636, these mines, the most fertile in
all America, had time sufficient to produce their full effect, or
to reduce the value of silver in the European market as low as it
could well fall, while it continued to pay this tax to the King
of Spain. Ninety years is time sufficient to reduce any
commodity, of which there is no monopoly, to its natural price,
or to the lowest price at which, while it pays a particular tax,
it can continue to be sold for any considerable time together.
The price of silver in the European market might perhaps
have fallen still lower, and it might have become necessary
either to reduce the tax upon it, not only to one tenth, as in
1736, but to one twentieth, in the same manner as that upon gold,
or to give up working the greater part of the American mines
which are now wrought. The gradual increase of the demand for
silver, or the gradual enlargement of the market for the produce
of the silver mines of America, is probably the cause which has
prevented this from happening, and which has not only kept up the
value of silver in the European market, but has perhaps even
raised it somewhat higher than it was about the middle of the
last century.
Since the first discovery of America, the market for the
produce of its silver mines has been growing gradually more and
more extensive.
First, the market of Europe has become gradually more and
more extensive. Since the discovery of America, the greater part
of Europe has been much improved. England, Holland, France, and
Germany; even Sweden, Denmark, and Russia, have all advanced
considerably both in agriculture and in manufactures. Italy seems
not to have gone backwards. The fall of Italy preceded the
conquest of Peru. Since that time it seems rather to have
recovered a little. Spain and Portugal, indeed, are supposed to
have gone backwards. Portugal, however, is but a very small part
of Europe, and the declension of Spain is not, perhaps, so great
as is commonly imagined. In the beginning of the sixteenth
century, Spain was a very poor country, even in comparison with
France, which has been so much improved since that time. It was
the well known remark of the Emperor Charles V, who had travelled
so frequently through both countries, that everything abounded in
France, but that everything was wanting in Spain. The increasing
produce of the agriculture and manufactures of Europe must
necessarily have required a gradual increase in the quantity of
silver coin to circulate it; and the increasing number of wealthy
individuals must have required the like increase in the quantity
of their plate and other ornaments of silver.
Secondly, America is itself a new market for the produce of
its own silver mines; and as its advances in agriculture,
industry, and population are much more rapid than those of the
most thriving countries in Europe, its demand must increase much
more rapidly. The English colonies are altogether a new market,
which, partly for coin and partly for plate, requires a
continually augmenting supply of silver through a great continent
where there never was any demand before. The greater part, too,
of the Spanish and Portuguese colonies are altogether new
markets. New Granada, the Yucatan, Paraguay, and the Brazils
were, before discovered by the Europeans, inhabited by savage
nations who had neither arts nor agriculture. A considerable
degree of both has now been introduced into all of them. Even
Mexico and Peru, though they cannot be considered as altogether
new markets, are certainly much more extensive ones than they
ever were before. After all the wonderful tales which have been
published concerning the splendid state of those countries in
ancient times, whoever reads, with any degree of sober judgment,
the history of their first discovery and conquest, will evidently
discern that, in arts, agriculture, and commerce, their
inhabitants were much more ignorant than the Tartars of the
Ukraine are at present. Even the Peruvians, the more civilised
nation of the two, though they made use of gold and silver as
ornaments, had no coined money of any kind. Their whole commerce
was carried on by barter, and there was accordingly scarce any
division of labour among them. Those who cultivated the ground
were obliged to build their own houses, to make their own
household furniture, their own clothes, shoes, and instruments of
agriculture. The few artificers among them are said to have been
all maintained by the sovereign, the nobles, and the priests, and
were probably their servants or slaves. All the ancient arts of
Mexico and Peru have never furnished one single manufacture to
Europe. The Spanish armies, though they scarce ever exceeded five
hundred men, and frequently did not amount to half that number,
found almost everywhere great difficulty in procuring
subsistence. The famines which they are said to have occasioned
almost wherever they went, in countries, too, which at the same
time are represented as very populous and well cultivated,
sufficiently demonstrate that the story of this populousness and
high cultivation is in a great measure fabulous. The Spanish
colonies are under a government in many respects less favourable
to agriculture, improvement, and population than that of the
English colonies. They seem, however, to be advancing in all
these much more rapidly than any country in Europe. In a fertile
soil and happy climate, the great abundance and cheapness of
land, a circumstance common to all new colonies, is, it seems, so
great an advantage as to compensate many defects in civil
government. Frezier, who visited Peru in 1713, represents Lima as
containing between twenty-five and twenty-eight thousand
inhabitants. Ulloa, who resided in the same country between 1740
and 1746, represents it as containing more than fifty thousand.
The difference in their accounts of the populousness of several
other principal towns in Chili and Peru is nearly the same; and
as there seems to be no reason to doubt of the good information
of either, it marks an increase which is scarce inferior to that
of the English colonies. America, therefore, is a new market for
the produce of its own silver mines, of which the demand must
increase much more rapidly than that of the most thriving country
in Europe.
Thirdly, the East Indies is another market for the produce
of the silver mines of America, and a market which, from the time
of the first discovery of those mines, has been continually
taking off a greater and a greater quantity of silver. Since that
time, the direct trade between America and the East Indies, which
is carried on by means of the Acapulco ships, has been
continually augmenting, and the indirect intercourse by the way
of Europe has been augmenting in a still greater proportion.
During the sixteenth century, the Portuguese were the only
European nation who carried on any regular trade to the East
Indies. In the last years of that century the Dutch begun to
encroach upon this monopoly, and in a few years expelled them
from their principal settlements in India. During the greater
part of the last century those two nations divided the most
considerable part of the East India trade between them; the trade
of the Dutch continually augmenting in a still greater proportion
than that of the Portuguese declined. The English and French
carried on some trade with India in the last century, but it has
been greatly augmented in the course of the present. The East
India trade of the Swedes and Danes began in the course of the
present century. Even the Muscovites now trade regularly with
China by a sort of caravans which go overland through Siberia and
Tartary to Pekin. The East India trade of all these nations, if
we except that of the French, which the last war had well nigh
annihilated, had been almost continually augmenting. The
increasing consumption of East India goods in Europe is, it
seems, so great as to afford a gradual increase of employment to
them all. Tea, for example, was a drug very little used in Europe
before the middle of the last century. At present the value of
the tea annually imported by the English East India Company, for
the use of their own countrymen, amounts to more than a million
and a half a year; and even this is not enough; a great deal more
being constantly smuggled into the country from the ports of
Holland, from Gottenburgh in Sweden, and from the coast of France
too, as long as the French East India Company was in prosperity.
The consumption of the porcelain of China, of the spiceries of
the Moluccas, of the piece goods of Bengal, and of innumerable
other articles, has increased very nearly in a like proportion.
The tonnage accordingly of all the European shipping employed in
the East India trade, at any one time during the last century,
was not, perhaps, much greater than that of the English East
India Company before the late reduction of their shipping.
But in the East Indies, particularly in China and Indostan,
the value of the precious metals, when the Europeans first began
to trade to those countries, was much higher than in Europe; and
it still continues to be so. In rice countries, which generally
yield two, sometimes three crops in the year, each of them more
plentiful than any common crop of corn, the abundance of food
must be much greater than in any corn country of equal extent.
Such countries are accordingly much more populous. In them, too,
the rich, having a greater superabundance of food to dispose of
beyond what they themselves can consume, have the means of
purchasing a much greater quantity of the labour of other people.
The retinue of a grandee in China or Indostan accordingly is, by
all accounts, much more numerous and splendid than that of the
richest subjects in Europe. The same superabundance of food, of
which they have the disposal, enables them to give a greater
quantity of it for all those singular and rare productions which
nature furnishes but in very small quantities; such as the
precious metals and the precious stones, the great objects of the
competition of the rich. Though the mines, therefore, which
supplied the Indian market had been as abundant as those which
supplied the European, such commodities would naturally exchange
for a greater quantity of food in India than in Europe. But the
mines which supplied the Indian market with the precious metals
seem to have been a good deal less abundant, and those which
supplied it with the precious stones a good deal more so, than
the mines which supplied the European. The precious metals,
therefore, would naturally exchange in India for somewhat a
greater quantity of the precious stones, and for a much greater
quantity of food than in Europe. The money price of diamonds, the
greatest of all superfluities, would be somewhat lower, and that
of food, the first of all necessaries, a great deal lower in the
one country than in the other. But the real price of labour, the
real quantity of the necessaries of life which is given to the
labourer, it has already been observed, is lower both in China
and Indostan, the two great markets of India, than it is through
the greater part of Europe. The wages of the labourer will there
purchase a smaller quantity of food; and as the money price of
food is much lower in India than in Europe, the money price of
labour is there lower upon a double account; upon account both of
the small quantity of food which it will purchase, and of the low
price of that food. But in countries of equal art and industry,
the money price of the greater part of manufactures will be in
proportion to the money price of labour; and in manufacturing art
and industry, China and Indostan, though inferior, seem not to be
much inferior to any part of Europe. The money price of the
greater part of manufactures, therefore, will naturally be much
lower in those great empires than it is anywhere in Europe.
Through the greater part of Europe, too, the expense of
land-carriage increases very much both the real and nominal price
of most manufactures. It costs more labour, and therefore more
money, to bring first the materials, and afterwards the complete
manufacture to market. In China and Indostan the extent and
variety of inland navigation save the greater part of this
labour, and consequently of this money, and thereby reduce still
lower both the real and the nominal price of the greater part of
their manufactures. Upon all those accounts the precious metals
axe a commodity which it always has been, and still continues to
be, extremely advantageous to carry from Europe to India. There
is scarce any commodity which brings a better price there; or
which, in proportion to the quantity of labour and commodities
which it costs in Europe, will purchase or command a greater
quantity of labour and commodities in India. It is more
advantageous, too, to carry silver thither than gold; because in
China, and the greater part of the other markets of India, the
proportion between fine silver and fine gold is but as ten, or at
most as twelve, to one; whereas in Europe it is as fourteen or
fifteen to one. In China, and the greater part of the other
markets of India, ten, or at most twelve, ounces of silver will
purchase an ounce of gold; in Europe it requires from fourteen to
fifteen ounces. In the cargoes, therefore, of the greater part of
European ships which sail to India, silver has generally been one
of the most valuable articles. It is the most valuable article in
the Acapulco ships which sail to Manilla. The silver of the new
continent seems in this manner to be one of the principal
commodities by which the commerce between the two extremities of
the old one is carried on, and it is by means of it, in a great
measure, that those distant parts of the world are connected with
one another.
In order to supply so very widely extended a market, the
quantity of silver annually brought from the mines must not only
be sufficient to support that continual increase both of coin and
of plate which is required in all thriving countries; but to
repair that continual waste and consumption of silver which takes
place in all countries where that metal is used.
The continual consumption of the precious metals in coin by
wearing, and in plate both by wearing and cleaning, is very
sensible, and in commodities of which the use is so very widely
extended, would alone require a very great annual supply. The
consumption of those metals in some particular manufactures,
though it may not perhaps be greater upon the whole than this
gradual consumption, is, however, much more sensible, as it is
much more rapid. In the manufactures of Birmingham alone the
quantity of gold and silver annually employed in gilding and
plating, and thereby disqualified from ever afterwards appearing
in the shape of those metals, is said to amount to more than
fifty thousand pounds sterling. We may from thence form some
notion how great must be the annual consumption in all the
different parts of the world either in manufactures of the same
kind with those of Birmingham, or in laces, embroideries, gold
and silver stuffs, the gilding of books, furniture, etc. A
considerable quantity, too, must be annually lost in transporting
those metals from one place to another both by sea and by land.
In the greater part of the governments of Asia, besides, the
almost universal custom of concealing treasures in the bowels of
the earth, of which the knowledge frequently dies with the person
who makes the concealment, must occasion the loss of a still
greater quantity.
The quantity of gold and silver imported at both Cadiz and
Lisbon (including not only what comes under register, but what
may be supposed to be smuggled) amounts, according to the best
accounts, to about six millions sterling a year.
According to Mr. Meggens the annual importation of the
precious metals into Spain, at an average of six years, viz.,
from 1748 to 1753, both inclusive; and into Portugal, at an
average of seven years, viz., from 1747 to 1753, both inclusive,
amounted in silver to 1,101,107 pounds weight; and in gold to
29,940 pounds weight. The silver, at sixty-two shillings the
pound Troy, amounts to L3,413,431 10s. sterling. The gold, at
forty-four guineas and a half the pound Troy, amounts to
L2,333,446 14s. sterling. Both together amount to L5,746,878 4s.
sterling. The account of what was imported under register he
assures us is exact. He gives us the detail of the particular
places from which the gold and silver were brought, and of the
particular quantity of each metal, which, according to the
register, each of them afforded. He makes an allowance, too, for
the quantity of each metal which he supposes may have been
smuggled. The great experience of this judicious merchant renders
his opinion of considerable weight.
According to the eloquent and, sometimes, well-informed
author of the Philosophical and Political History of the
Establishment of the Europeans in the two Indies, the annual
importation of registered gold and silver into Spain, at an
average of eleven years, viz., from 1754 to 1764, both inclusive,
amounted to 13,984,185 3/4 piastres of ten reals. On account of
what may have been smuggled, however, the whole annual
importation, he supposes, may have amounted to seventeen millions
of piastres, which, at 4s. 6d. the piastre, is equal to
L3,825,000 sterling. He gives the detail, too, of the particular
places from which the gold and silver were brought, and of the
particular quantities of each metal which, according to the
register, each of them afforded. He informs us, too, that if we
were to judge of the quantity of gold annually imported from the
Brazils into Lisbon by the amount of the tax paid to the King of
Portugal, which it seems is one-fifth of the standard metal, we
might value it at eighteen millions of cruzadoes, or forty-five
millions of French livres, equal to about two millions sterling.
On account of what may have been smuggled, however, we may
safely, he says, add to the sum an eighth more, or L250,000
sterling, so that the whole will amount to L2,250,000 sterling.
According to this account, therefore, the whole annual
importation of the precious metals into both Spain and Portugal
amounts to about L6,075,000 sterling.
Several other very well authenticated, though manuscript,
accounts, I have been assured, agree in making this whole annual
importation amount at an average to about six millions sterling;
sometimes a little more, sometimes a little less.
The annual importation of the precious metals into Cadiz and
Lisbon, indeed, is not equal to the whole annual produce of the
mines of America. Some part is sent annually by the Acapulco
ships to Manilla; some part is employed in the contraband trade
which the Spanish colonies carry on with those of other European
nations; and some part, no doubt remains in the country. The
mines of America, besides, are by no means the only gold and
silver mines in the world. They are, however, by far the most
abundant. The produce of all the other mines which are known is
insignificant, it is acknowledged, in comparison with theirs; and
the far greater part of their produce, it is likewise
acknowledged, is annually imported into Cadiz and Lisbon. But the
consumption of Birmingham alone, at the rate of fifty thousand
pounds a year, is equal to the hundred-and-twentieth part of this
annual importation at the rate of six millions a year. The whole
annual consumption of gold and silver, therefore, in all the
different countries of the world where those metals are used, may
perhaps be nearly equal to the whole annual produce. The
remainder may be no more than sufficient to supply the increasing
demand of all thriving countries. It may even have fallen so far
short of time demand as somewhat to raise the price of those
metals in the European market.
The quantity of brass and iron annually brought from the
mine to the market is out of all proportion greater than that of
gold and silver. We do not, however, upon this account, imagine
that those coarse metals are likely to multiply beyond the
demand, or to become gradually cheaper and cheaper. Why should we
imagine that the precious metals are likely to do so? The coarse
metals, indeed, though harder, are put to much harder uses, and,
as they are of less value, less care is employed in their
preservation. The precious metals, however, are not necessarily
immortal any more than they, but are liable, too, to be lost,
wasted, and consumed in a great variety of ways.
The price of all metals, though liable to slow and gradual
variations, varies less from year to year than that of almost any
other part of the rude produce of land; and the price of the
precious metals is even less liable to sudden variations than
that of the coarse ones. The durableness of metals is the
foundation of this extraordinary steadiness of price. The corn
which was brought to market last year will be all or almost all
consumed long before the end of this year. But some part of the
iron which was brought from the mine two or three hundred years
ago may be still in use, and perhaps some part of the gold which
was brought from it two or three thousand years ago. The
different masses of corn which in different years must supply the
consumption of the world will always be nearly in proportion to
the respective produce of those different years. But the
proportion between the different masses of iron which may be in
use in two different years will be very little affected by any
accidental difference in the produce of the iron mines of those
two years; and the proportion between the masses of gold will be
still less affected by any such difference in the produce of the
gold mines. Though the produce of the greater part of metallic
mines, therefore, varies, perhaps, still more from year to year
than that of the greater part of corn fields, those variations
have not the same effect upon the price of the one species of
commodities as upon that of the other.
VARIATIONS IN THE PROPORTION BETWEEN THE RESPECTIVE VALUES
OF GOLD AND SILVER
Before the discovery of the mines of America, the value of
fine gold to fine silver was regulated in the different mints of
Europe between the proportions of one to ten and one to twelve;
that is, an ounce of fine gold was supposed to be worth from ten
to twelve ounces of fine silver. About the middle of the last
century it came to be regulated, between the proportions of one
to fourteen and one to fifteen; that is, an ounce of fine gold
came to be supposed to be worth between fourteen and fifteen
ounces of fine silver. Gold rose in its nominal value, or in the
quantity of silver which was given for it. Both metals sunk in
their real value, or in the quantity of labour which they could
purchase; but silver sunk more than gold. Though both the gold
and silver mines of America exceeded in fertility all those which
had ever been known before, the fertility of the silver mines
had, it seems, been proportionably still greater than that of the
gold ones.
The great quantities of silver carried annually from Europe
to India have, in some of the English settlements, gradually
reduced the value of that metal in proportion to gold. In the
mint of Calcutta an ounce of fine gold is supposed to be worth
fifteen ounces of fine silver, in the same manner as in Europe.
It is in the mint perhaps rated too high for the value which it
bears in the market of Bengal. In China, the proportion of gold
to silver still continues as one to ten, or one to twelve. In
Japan it is said to be as one to eight.
The proportion between the quantities of gold and silver
annually imported into Europe, according to Mr. Meggens's
account, is as one to twenty-two nearly; that is, for one ounce
of gold there are imported a little more than twenty-two ounces
of silver. The great quantity of silver sent annually to the East
Indies reduces, he supposes, the quantities of those metals which
remain in Europe to the proportion of one to fourteen or fifteen,
the proportion of their values. The proportion between their
values, he seems to think, must necessarily be the same as that
between their quantities, and would therefore be as one to
twenty-two, were it not for this greater exportation of silver.
But the ordinary proportion between the respective values of
two commodities is not necessarily the same as that between the
quantities of them which are commonly in the market. The price of
an ox, reckoned at ten guineas, is about threescore times the
price of a lamb, reckoned at 3s. 6d. It would be absurd, however,
to infer from thence that there are commonly in the market
threescore lambs for one ox: and it would be just as absurd to
infer, because an ounce of gold will commonly purchase from
fourteen to fifteen ounces of silver, that there are commonly in
the market only fourteen or fifteen ounces of silver for one
ounce of gold.
The quantity of silver commonly in the market, it is
probable is much greater in proportion to that of gold than the
value of a certain quantity of gold is to that of an equal
quantity of silver. The whole quantity of a cheap commodity
brought to market is commonly not only greater, but of greater
value, than the whole quantity of a dear one. The whole quantity
of bread annually brought to market is not only greater, but of
greater value than the whole quantity of butcher's meat; the
whole quantity of butcher's meat, than the whole quantity of
poultry; and the whole quantity of wild fowl. There are so many
more purchasers for the cheap than for the dear commodity that
not only a greater quantity of it, but a greater value, can
commonly be disposed of. The whole quantity, therefore, of the
cheap commodity must commonly be greater in proportion to the
whole quantity of the dear one than the value of a certain
quantity of the dear one is to the value of an equal quantity of
the cheap one. When we compare the precious metals with one
another, silver is a cheap and gold a dear commodity. We ought
naturally to expect, therefore, that there should always be in
the market not only a greater quantity, but a greater value of
silver than of gold. Let any man who has a little of both compare
his own silver with his gold plate, and he will probably find
that, not only the quantity, but the value of the former greatly
exceeds that of the latter. Many people, besides, have a good
deal of silver who have no gold plate, which, even with those who
have it, is generally confined to watchcases, snuff-boxes, and
such like trinkets, of which the whole amount is seldom of great
value. In the British coin, indeed, the value of the gold
preponderates greatly, but it is not so in that of all countries.
In the coin of some countries the value of the two metals is
nearly equal. In the Scotch coin, before the union with England,
the gold preponderated very little, though it did somewhat, as it
appears by the accounts of the mint. In the coin of many
countries the silver preponderates. In France, the largest sums
are commonly paid in that metal, and it is there difficult to get
more gold than what is necessary to carry about in your pocket.
The superior value, however, of the silver plate above that of
the gold, which takes place in all countries, will much more than
compensate the preponderancy of the gold coin above the silver,
which takes place only in some countries.
Though, in one sense of the word, silver always has been,
and probably always will be, much cheaper than gold; yet in
another sense gold may, perhaps, in the present state of the
Spanish market, be said to be somewhat cheaper than silver. A
commodity may be said to be dear or cheap, not only according to
the absolute greatness or smallness of its usual price, but
according as that price is more or less above the lowest for
which it is possible to bring it to market for any considerable
time together. This lowest price is that which barely replaces,
with a moderate profit, the stock which must be employed in
bringing the commodity thither. It is the price which affords
nothing to the landlord, of which rent makes not any component
part, but which resolves itself altogether into wages and profit.
But, in the present state of the Spanish market, gold is
certainly somewhat nearer to this lowest price than silver. The
tax of the King of Spain upon gold is only one-twentieth part of
the standard metal, or five per cent; whereas his tax upon silver
amounts to one-tenth part of it, or to ten per cent. In these
taxes too, it has already been observed, consists the whole rent
of the greater part of the gold and silver mines of Spanish
America; and that upon gold is still worse paid than that upon
silver. The profits of the undertakers of gold mines too, as they
more rarely make a fortune, must, in general, be still more
moderate than those of the undertakers of silver mines. The price
of Spanish gold, therefore, as it affords both less rent and less
profit, must, in the Spanish market, be somewhat nearer to the
lowest price for which it is possible to bring it thither than
the price of Spanish silver. When all expenses are computed, the
whole quantity of the one metal, it would seem, cannot, in the
Spanish market, be disposed of so advantageously as the whole
quantity of the other. The tax, indeed, of the King of Portugal
upon the gold of the Brazils is the same with the ancient tax of
the King of Spain upon the silver of Mexico and Peru; or
one-fifth part of the standard metal. It may, therefore, be
uncertain whether to the general market of Europe the whole mass
of American gold comes at a price nearer to the lowest for which
it is possible to bring it thither than the whole mass of
American silver.
The price of diamonds and other precious stones may,
perhaps, be still nearer to the lowest price at which it is
possible to bring them to market than even the price of gold.
Though it is not very probable that any part of a tax, which
is not only imposed upon one of the most proper subjects of
taxation, a mere luxury and superfluity, but which affords so
very important a revenue as the tax upon silver, will ever be
given up as long as it is possible to pay it; yet the same
impossibility of paying it, which in 1736 made it necessary to
reduce it from one-fifth to one-tenth, may in time make it
necessary to reduce it still further; in the same manner as it
made it necessary to reduce the tax upon gold to one-twentieth.
That the silver mines of Spanish America, like all other mines,
become gradually more expensive in the working, on account of the
greater depths at which it is necessary to carry on the works,
and of the greater expense of drawing out the water and of
supplying them with fresh air at those depths, is acknowledged by
everybody who has inquired into the state of those mines.
These causes, which are equivalent to a growing scarcity of
silver (for a commodity may be said to grow scarcer when it
becomes more difficult and expensive to collect a certain
quantity of it) must, in time, produce one or other of the three
following events. The increase of the expense must either, first,
be compensated altogether by a proportionable increase in the
price of the metal; or, secondly, it must be compensated
altogether by a proportionable diminution of the tax upon silver;
or, thirdly, it must be compensated partly by the one, and partly
by the other of those two expedients. This third event is very
possible. As gold rose in its price in proportion to silver,
notwithstanding a great diminution of the tax upon gold, so
silver might rise in its price in proportion to labour and
commodities, notwithstanding an equal diminution of the tax upon
silver.
Such successive reductions of the tax, however, though they
may not prevent altogether, must certainly retard, more or less,
the rise of the value of silver in the European market. In
consequence of such reductions many mines may be wrought which
could not be wrought before, because they could not afford to pay
the old tax; and the quantity of silver annually brought to
market must always be somewhat greater, and, therefore, the value
of any given quantity somewhat less, than it otherwise would have
been. In consequence of the reduction in 1736, the value of
silver in the European market, though it may not at this day be
lower than before that reduction, is, probably, at least ten per
cent lower than it would have been had the Court of Spain
continued to exact the old tax.
That, notwithstanding this reduction, the value of silver
has, during the course of the present century, begun to rise
somewhat in the European market, the facts and arguments which
have been alleged above dispose me to believe, or more properly
to suspect and conjecture; for the best opinion which I can form
upon this subject scarce, perhaps, deserves the name of belief.
The rise, indeed, supposing there has been any, has hitherto been
so very small that after all that has been said it may, perhaps,
appear to many people uncertain, not only whether this event has
actually taken place; but whether the contrary may not have taken
place, or whether the value of the silver may not still continue
to fall in the European market.
It must be observed, however, that whatever may be the
supposed annual importation of gold and silver, there must be a
certain period at which the annual consumption of those metals
will be equal to that annual importation. Their consumption must
increase as their mass increases, or rather in a much greater
proportion. As their mass increases, their value diminishes. They
are more used and less cared for, and their consumption
consequently increases in a greater proportion than their mass.
After a certain period, therefore, the annual consumption of
those metals must, in this manner, become equal to their annual
importation, provided that importation is not continually
increasing; which, in the present times, is not supposed to be
the case.
If, when the annual consumption has become equal to the
annual importation, the annual importation should gradually
diminish, the annual consumption may, for some time, exceed the
annual importation. The mass of those metals may gradually and
insensibly diminish, and their value gradually and insensibly
rise, till the annual importation become again stationary, the
annual consumption will gradually and insensibly accommodate
itself to what that annual importation can maintain.
GROUNDS OF THE SUSPICION THAT THE VALUE OF SILVER STILL
CONTINUES TO DECREASE
The increase of the wealth of Europe, and the popular notion
that, as the quantity of the precious metals naturally increases
with the increase of wealth so their value diminishes as their
quantity increases, may, perhaps, dispose many people to believe
that their value still continues to fall in the European market;
and the still gradually increasing price of many parts of the
rude produce of land may confirm them still further in this
opinion.
That that increase in the quantity of the precious metals,
which arises in any country from the increase of wealth, has no
tendency to diminish their value, I have endeavoured to show
already. Gold and silver naturally resort to a rich country, for
the same reason that all sorts of luxuries and curiosities resort
to it; not because they are cheaper there than in poorer
countries, but because they are dearer, or because a better price
is given for them. It is the superiority of price which attracts
them, and as soon as that superiority ceases, they necessarily
cease to go thither.
If you except corn and such other vegetables as are raised
altogether by human industry, that all other sorts of rude
produce, cattle, poultry, game of all kinds, the useful fossils
and minerals of the earth, etc., naturally grow dearer as the
society advances in wealth and improvement, I have endeavoured to
show already. Though such commodities, therefore, come to
exchange for a greater quantity of silver than before, it will
not from thence follow that silver has become really cheaper, or
will purchase less labour than before, but that such commodities
have become really dearer, or will purchase more labour than
before. It is not their nominal price only, but their real price
which rises in the progress of improvement. The rise of their
nominal price is the effect, not of any degradation of the value
of silver, but of the rise in their real price.
DIFFERENT EFFECTS OF THE PROGRESS OF IMPROVEMENT UPON THREE
DIFFERENT SORTS OF RUDE PRODUCE
These different sorts of rude produce may be divided into
three classes. The first comprehends those which it is scarce in
the power of human industry to multiply at all. The second, those
which it can multiply in proportion to the demand. The third,
those in which the efficacy of industry is either limited or
uncertain. In the progress of wealth and improvement, the real
price of the first may rise to any degree of extravagance, and
seems not to be limited by any certain boundary. That of the
second, though it may rise greatly, has, however, a certain
boundary beyond which it cannot well pass for any considerable
time together. That of the third, though its natural tendency is
to rise in the progress of improvement, yet in the same degree of
improvement it may sometimes happen even to fall, sometimes to
continue the same, and sometimes to rise more or less, according
as different accidents render the efforts of human industry, in
multiplying this sort of rude produce, more or less successful.
FIRST SORT
The first sort of rude produce of which the price rises in
the progress of improvement is that which it is scarce in the
power of human industry to multiply at all. It consists in those
things which nature produces only in certain quantities, and
which, being of a very perishable nature, it is impossible to
accumulate together the produce of many different seasons. Such
are the greater part of rare and singular birds and fishes, many
different sorts of game, almost all wild-fowl, all birds of
passage in particular, as well as many other things. When wealth
and the luxury which accompanies it increase, the demand for
these is likely to increase with them, and no effort of human
industry may be able to increase the supply much beyond what it
was before this increase of the demand. The quantity of such
commodities, therefore, remaining the same, or nearly the same,
while the competition to purchase them is continually increasing,
their price may rise to any degree of extravagance, and seems not
to be limited by any certain boundary. If woodcocks should become
so fashionable as to sell for twenty guineas apiece, no effort of
human industry could increase the number of those brought to
market much beyond what it is at present. The high price paid by
the Romans, in the time of their greatest grandeur, for rare
birds and fishes, may in this manner easily be accounted for.
These prices were not the effects of the low value of silver in
those times, but of the high value of such rarities and
curiosities as human industry could not multiply at pleasure. The
real value of silver was higher at Rome, for some time before and
after the fall of the republic, than it is through the greater
part of Europe at present. Three sestertii, equal to about
sixpence sterling, was the price which the republic paid for the
modius or peck of the tithe wheat of Sicily. This price, however,
was probably below the average market price, the obligation to
delive