The produce of labour constitutes the natural recompence 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 tenfold, 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 recompence 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, authorises, 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, or 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 combination 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 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 able-bodied 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 many 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 to the payment of wages.

These funds are of two kinds, first, the 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 earned in 1773, before the commencement of the late disturbances, 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 burden, 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 the 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 the 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 work-houses 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 services, 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 butchers’ 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.

Eighteen pence 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 fifteen pence.

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 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 a-foot, 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 a-foot.

 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 eight pence 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 enquired very carefully into this subject {See his scheme for the maintenance of the poor, in Burn’s History of the Poor Laws.}.

In 1688, Mr Gregory King, whose skill in political arithmetic is so much extolled by Dr 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 workman, 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 shew that law can never regulate them properly, though it has often pretended to do so.

 The real recompence of labour, the real quantity of the necessaries and conveniencies 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 manufactories of both linen and woollen cloth furnish the labourers with cheaper and better clothing;

and those in the manufactories 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 recompence, 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 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 any 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 born 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 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 civilized 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 freeman is managed by the freeman 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 cause and effect 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, bring 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 times 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 be well 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 stock 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 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.