CHAPTER XI. OF THE RENT OF LAND
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 at 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 improvements. 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 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 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 the 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 I. 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 that 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 the 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 we 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 profit, as has already
been shewn, 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 every body 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 corn field 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, costs 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 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, at present, is
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 neighbour hood 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-inclosed 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 inclosed. The present high rent of
inclosed land in Scotland seems owing to the scarcity of inclosure, and
will probably last no longer than that scarcity. The advantage of
inclosure 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 of 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 eight-pence 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 twentyfour or twenty-five shillings the hundred weight 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 eight-pence
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 3d. 4/5ths 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 4½d. 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 4½d. the pound; and the coarse pieces
in general to be from seven farthings to 2½d. and 2¾d.; 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 in the time of Prince Henry.
During the first twelve years
of the last century, the average price of the best wheat at the Windsor
market was £ 1:18:3½d. 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 £ 2:1:9½d.
In the first twelve 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 acorn 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 inclosed 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 inclosing 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
inclosure than mat 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
inclosure 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 shew, 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 these 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 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 their 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 generally sells for three piastres 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 muscovada
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 America. It
is commonly said that a sugar planter expects that the rum and the
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 towns, 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 most 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 bringing 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 shewn 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
cuitivated 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
shew, 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 coal-heavers 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 II. 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 these 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, everyman, 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 any body 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 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 or
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 conveniencies 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 its 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 its 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 the 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 incumbrance, of no value to the landlord, who would
gladly give it to any body 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 cuitivated, 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 the 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 a 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 price 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 silver 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 Rev.
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 every body. 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 paving 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 dutchy. In waste and uninclosed
lands, any person who discovers a tin mine may mark out 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 rental. 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 of
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 work-houses 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 any body 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 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, 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 any thing but the actual
scarcity or plenty of these 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 the 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 yielded the largest and finest stones. The
other, it seems, were to the proprietor not worth the working.
As the prices, 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 of 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 proprietors 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 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 land 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 stones, 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 any body 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 III. 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 the 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 materials 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
free-stone 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
improvements, 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 civilized 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 that 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 seems to have taken
place in the European market, and nearly in the same order, too, in
which I have here set them down.
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
a-piece, 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 sometime 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 deliver
their wheat at this rate being considered as a tax upon the Sicilian
farmers. When the Romans, therefore, had occasion to order more corn
than the tithe of wheat amounted to, they were bound by capitulation to
pay for the surplus at the rate of four sestertii, or eightpence
sterling the peck; and this had probably been reckoned the moderate and
reasonable, that is, the ordinary or average contract price of those
times; it is equal to about one-and-twenty shillings the quarter.
Eight-and-twenty shillings the quarter was, before the late years of
scarcity, the ordinary contract price of English wheat, which in quality
is inferior to the Sicilian, and generally sells for a lower price in
the European market. The value of silver, therefore, in those ancient
times, must have been to its value in the present, as three to four
inversely; that is, three ounces of silver would then have purchased the
same quantity of labour and commodities which four ounces will do at
present. When we read in Pliny, therefore, that Seius
bought a white nightingale, as a present for the empress Agrippina, at
the price of six thousand sestertii, equal to about fifty pounds of our
present money; and that Asinius Celer purchased a surmullet at the price of eight thousand sestertii, equal to about
sixty-six pounds thirteen shillings and fourpence of our present money;
the extravagance of those prices, how much soever it may surprise us, is
apt, notwithstanding, to appear to us about one third less than it
really was. Their real price, the quantity of labour and subsistence
which was given away for them, was about one-third more than their
nominal price is apt to express to us in the present times. Seius gave
for the nightingale the command of a quantity of labour and subsistence,
equal to what £ 66:13: 4d. would purchase in the present times; and
Asinius Celer gave for a surmullet the command of a quantity equal to
what £ 88:17: 9d. would purchase. What occasioned the extravagance of
those high prices was, not so much the abundance of silver, as the
abundance of labour and subsistence, of which those Romans had the
disposal, beyond what was necessary for their own use. The quantity of
silver, of which they had the disposal, was a good deal less than what
the command of the same quantity of labour and subsistence would have
procured to them in the present times.
Second sort
The second sort of
rude produce, of which the price rises in the progress of improvement,
is that which human industry can multiply in proportion to the demand.
It consists in those useful plants and animals, which, in uncultivated
countries, nature produces with such profuse abundance, that they are of
little or no value, and which, as cultivation advances, are therefore
forced to give place to some more profitable produce. During a long
period in the progress of improvement, the quantity of these is
continually diminishing, while, at the same time, the demand for them is
continually increasing. Their real value, therefore, the real quantity
of labour which they will purchase or command, gradually rises, till at
last it gets so high as to render them as profitable a produce as any
thing else which human industry can raise upon the most fertile and best
cultivated land. When it has got so high, it cannot well go higher. If
it did, more land and more industry would soon be employed to increase
their quantity.
When the price of cattle, for
example, rises so high, that it is as profitable to cultivate land in
order to raise food for them as in order to raise food for man, it
cannot well go higher. If it did, more corn land would soon be turned
into pasture. The extension of tillage, by diminishing the quantity of
wild pasture, diminishes the quantity of butcher's meat, which the
country naturally produces without labour or cultivation; and, by
increasing the number of those who have either corn, or, what comes to
the same thing, the price of corn, to give in exchange for it, increases
the demand. The price of butcher's meat, therefore, and, consequently,
of cattle, must gradually rise, till it gets so high, that it becomes as
profitable to employ the most fertile and best cultivated lands in
raising food for them as in raising corn. But it must always be late in
the progress of improvement before tillage can be so far extended as to
raise the price of cattle to this height; and, till it has got to this
height, if the country is advancing at all, their price must be
continually rising. There are, perhaps, some parts of Europe in which
the price of cattle has not yet got to this height. It had not got to
this height in any part of Scotland before the Union. Had the Scotch
cattle been always confined to the market of Scotland, in a country in
which the quantity of land, which can be applied to no other purpose but
the feeding of cattle, is so great in proportion to what can be applied
to other purposes, it is scarce possible, perhaps, that their price
could ever have risen so high as to render it profitable to cultivate
land for the sake of feeding them. In England, the price of cattle, it
has already been observed, seems, in the neighbourhood of London, to
have got to this height about the beginning of the last century; but it
was much later, probably, before it got through the greater part of the
remoter counties, in some of which, perhaps, it may scarce yet have got
to it. Of all the different substances, however, which compose this
second sort of rude produce, cattle is, perhaps, that of which the
price, in the progress of improvement, rises first to this height.
Till the price of cattle,
indeed, has got to this height, it seems scarce possible that the
greater part, even of those lands which are capable of the highest
cultivation, can be completely cultivated. In all farms too distant from
any town to carry manure from it, that is, in the far greater part of
those of every extensive country, the quantity of well cultivated land
must be in proportion to the quantity of manure which the farm itself
produces; and this, again, must be in proportion to the stock of cattle
which are maintained upon it. The land is manured, either by pasturing
the cattle upon it, or by feeding them in the stable, and from thence
carrying out their dung to it. But unless the price of the cattle be
sufficient to pay both the rent and profit of cultivated land, the
farmer cannot afford to pasture them upon it; and he can still less
afford to feed them in the stable. It is with the produce of improved
and cultivated land only that cattle can be fed in the stable; because,
to collect the scanty and scattered produce of waste and unimproved
lands, would require too much labour, and be too expensive. It the price
of the cattle, therefore, is not sufficient to pay for the produce of
improved and cuitivated land, when they are allowed to pasture it, that
price will be still less sufficient to pay for that produce, when it
must be collected with a good deal of additional labour, and brought
into the stable to them. In these circumstances, therefore, no more
cattle can with profit be fed in the stable than what are necessary for
tillage. But these can never afford manure enough for keeping constantly
in good condition all the lands which they are capable of cultivating.
What they afford, being insufficient for the whole farm, will naturally
be reserved for the lands to which it can be most advantageously or
conveniently applied; the most fertile, or those, perhaps, in the
neighbourhood of the farm-yard. These, therefore, will be kept
constantly in good condition, and fit for tillage. The rest will, the
greater part of them, be allowed to lie waste, producing scarce any
thing but some miserable pasture, just sufficient to keep alive a few
straggling, half-starved cattle; the farm, though much overstocked in
proportion to what would be necessary for its complete cultivation,
being very frequently overstocked in proportion to its actual produce. A
portion of this waste land, however, after having been pastured in this
wretched manner for six or seven years together, may be ploughed up,
when it will yield, perhaps, a poor crop or two of bad oats, or of some
other coarse grain; and then, being entirely exhausted, it must be
rested and pastured again as before, and another portion ploughed up, to
be in the same manner exhausted and rested again in its turn. Such,
accordingly, was the general system of management all over the low
country of Scotland before the Union. The lands which were kept
constantly well manured and in good condition seldom exceeded a third or
fourth part of the whole farm, and sometimes did not amount to a fifth
or a sixth part of it. The rest were never manured, but a certain
portion of them was in its turn, notwithstanding, regularly cultivated
and exhausted. Under this system of management, it is evident, even that
part of the lands of Scotland which is capable of good cultivation,
could produce but little in comparison of what it may be capable of
producing. But how disadvantageous soever this system may appear, yet,
before the Union, the low price of cattle seems to have rendered it
almost unavoidable. If, notwithstanding a great rise in the price, it
still continues to prevail through a considerable part of the country,
it is owing in many places, no doubt, to ignorance and attachment to old
customs, but, in most places, to the unavoidable obstructions which the
natural course of things opposes to the immediate or speedy
establishment of a better system: first, to the poverty of the tenants,
to their not having yet had time to acquire a stock of cattle sufficient
to cultivate their lands more completely, the same rise of price, which
would render it advantageous for them to maintain a greater stock,
rendering it more difficult for them to acquire it; and, secondly, to
their not having yet had time to put their lands in condition to
maintain this greater stock properly, supposing they were capable of
acquiring it. The increase of stock and the improvement of land are two
events which must go hand in hand, and of which the one can nowhere much
outrun the other. Without some increase of stock, there can be scarce
any improvement of land, but there can be no considerable increase of
stock, but in consequence of a considerable improvement of land; because
otherwise the land could not maintain it. These natural obstructions to
the establishment of a better system, cannot be removed but by a long
course of frugality and industry; and half a century or a century more,
perhaps, must pass away before the old system, which is wearing out
gradually, can be completely abolished through all the different parts
of the country. Of all the commercial advantages, however, which
Scotland has derived from the Union with England, this rise in the price
of cattle is, perhaps, the greatest. It has not only raised the value of
all highland estates, but it has, perhaps, been the principal cause of
the improvement of the low country.
In all new colonies, the great
quantity of waste land, which can for many years be applied to no other
purpose but the feeding of cattle, soon renders them extremely abundant;
and in every thing great cheapness is the necessary consequence of great
abundance. Though all the cattle of the European colonies in America
were originally carried from Europe, they soon multiplied so much there,
and became of so little value, that even horses were allowed to run wild
in the woods, without any owner thinking it worth while to claim them.
It must be a long time after the first establishment of such colonies,
before it can become profitable to feed cattle upon the produce of
cultivated land. The same causes, therefore, the want of manure, and the
disproportion between the stock employed in cultivation and the land
which it is destined to cultivate, are likely to introduce there a
system of husbandry, not unlike that which still continues to take place
in so many parts of Scotland. Mr Kalm, the Swedish traveller, when he
gives an account of the husbandry of some of the English colonies in
North America, as he found it in 1749, observes, accordingly, that he
can with difficulty discover there the character of the English nation,
so well skilled in all the different branches of agriculture. They make
scarce any manure for their corn fields, he says; but when one piece of
ground has been exhausted by continual cropping, they clear and
cultivate another piece of fresh land; and when that is exhausted,
proceed to a third. Their cattle are allowed to wander through the woods
and other uncultivated grounds, where they are half-starved; having long
ago extirpated almost all the annual grasses, by cropping them too early
in the spring, before they had time to form their flowers, or to shed
their seeds. The annual grasses
were, it seems, the best natural grasses in that part of North America;
and when the Europeans first settled there, they used to grow very
thick, and to rise three or four feet high. A piece of ground which,
when he wrote, could not maintain one cow, would in former times, he was
assured, have maintained four, each of which would have given four times
the quantity of milk which that one was capable of giving. The poorness
of the pasture had, in his opinion, occasioned the degradation of their
cattle, which degenerated sensibly from me generation to another. They
were probably not unlike that stunted breed which was common all over
Scotland thirty or forty years ago, and which is now so much mended
through the greater part of the low country, not so much by a change of
the breed, though that expedient has been employed in some places, as by
a more plentiful method of feeding them.
Though it is late, therefore,
in the progress of improvement, before cattle can bring such a price as
to render it profitable to cultivate land for the sake of feeding them;
yet of all the different parts which compose this second sort of rude
produce, they are perhaps the first which bring this price; because,
till they bring it, it seems impossible that improvement can be brought
near even to that degree of perfection to which it has arrived in many
parts of Europe.
As cattle are among the first,
so perhaps venison is among the last parts of this sort of rude produce
which bring this price. The price of venison in Great Britain, how
extravagant soever it may appear, is not near sufficient to compensate
the expense of a deer park, as is well known to all those who have had
any experience in the feeding of deer. If it was otherwise, the feeding
of deer would soon become an article of common farming, in the same
manner as the feeding of those small birds, called turdi, was among the
ancient Romans. Varro and Columella assure us, that it was a most
profitable article. The fattening of ortolans, birds of passage which
arrive lean in the country, is said to be so in some parts of France. If
venison continues in fashion, and the wealth and luxury of Great Britain
increase as they have done for some time past, its price may very
probably rise still higher than it is at present.
Between that period in the
progress of improvement, which brings to its height the price of so
necessary an article as cattle, and that which brings to it the price of
such a superfluity as venison, there is a very long interval, in the
course of which many other sorts of rude produce gradually arrive at
their highest price, some sooner and some later, according to different
circumstances.
Thus, in every farm, the offals
of the barn and stable will maintain a certain number of poultry. These,
as they are fed with what would otherwise be lost, are a mere save-all;
and as they cost the farmer scarce any thing, so he can afford to sell
them for very little. Almost all that he gets is pure gain, and their
price can scarce be so low as to discourage him from feeding this
number. But in countries ill cultivated, and therefore but thinly
inhabited, the poultry, which are thus raised without expense, are often
fully sufficient to supply the whole demand. In this state of things,
therefore, they are often as cheap as butcher's meat, or any other sort
of animal food. But the whole quantity of poultry which the farm in this
manner produces without expense, must always be much smaller than the
whole quantity of butcher's meat which is reared upon it; and in times
of wealth and luxury, what is rare, with only nearly equal merit, is
always preferred to what is common. As wealth and luxury increase,
therefore, in consequence of improvement and cultivation, the price of
poultry gradually rises above that of butcher's meat, till at last it
gets so high, that it becomes profitable to cultivate land for the sake
of feeding them. When it has got to this height, it cannot well go
higher. If it did, more land would soon be turned to this purpose. In
several provinces of France, the feeding of poultry is considered as a
very important article in rural economy, and sufficiently profitable to
encourage the farmer to raise a considerable quantity of Indian corn and
buckwheat for this purpose. A middling farmer will there sometimes have
four hundred fowls in his yard. The feeding of poultry seems scarce yet
to be generally considered as a matter of so much importance in England.
They are certainly, however, dearer in England than in France, as
England receives considerable supplies from France. In the progress of
improvements, the period at which every particular sort of animal food
is dearest, must naturally be that which immediately precedes the
general practice of cultivating land for the sake of raising it. For
some time before this practice becomes general, the scarcity must
necessarily raise the price. After it has become general, new methods of
feeding are commonly fallen upon, which enable the farmer to raise upon
the same quantity of ground a much greater quantity of that particular
sort of animal food. The plenty not only obliges him to sell cheaper,
but, in consequence of these improvements, he can afford to sell
cheaper; for if he could not afford it, the plenty would not be of long
continuance. It has been probably in this manner that the introduction
of clover, turnips, carrots, cabbages, etc. has contributed to sink the
common price of butcher's meat in the London market, somewhat below what
it was about the beginning of the last century.
The hog, that finds his food
among ordure, and greedily devours many things rejected by every other
useful animal, is, like poultry, originally kept as a save-all. As long
as the number of such animals, which can thus be reared at little or no
expense, is fully sufficient to supply the demand, this sort of
butcher's meat comes to market at a much lower price than any other. But
when the demand rises beyond what this quantity can supply, when it
becomes necessary to raise food on purpose for feeding and fattening
hogs, in the same manner as for feeding and fattening other cattle, the
price necessarily rises, and becomes proportionably either higher or
lower than that of other butcher's meat, according as the nature of the
country, and the state of its agriculture, happen to render the feeding
of hogs more or less expensive than that of other cattle. In France,
according to Mr Buffon, the price of pork is nearly equal to that of
beef. In most parts of Great Britain it is at present somewhat higher.
The great rise in the price
both of hogs and poultry, has, in Great Britain, been frequently imputed
to the diminution of the number of cottagers and other small occupiers
of land; an event which has in every part of Europe been the immediate
forerunner of improvement and better cultivation, but which at the same
time may have contributed to raise the price of those articles, both
somewhat sooner and somewhat faster than it would otherwise have risen.
As the poorest family can often maintain a cat or a dog without any
expense, so the poorest occupiers of land can commonly maintain a few
poultry, or a sow and a few pigs, at very little. The little offals of
their own table, their whey, skimmed milk, and butter milk, supply those
animals with a part of their food, and they find the rest in the
neighbouring fields, without doing any sensible damage to any body. By
diminishing the number of those small occupiers, therefore, the quantity
of this sort of provisions, which is thus produced at little or no
expense, must certainly have been a good deal diminished, and their
price must consequently have been raised both sooner and faster than it
would otherwise have risen. Sooner or later, however, in the progress of
improvement, it must at any rate have risen to the utmost height to
which it is capable of rising; or to the price which pays the labour and
expense of cultivating the land which furnishes them with food, as well
as these are paid upon the greater part of other cultivated land.
The business of the dairy, like
the feeding of hogs and poultry, is originally carried on as a save-all.
The cattle necessarily kept upon the farm produce more milk than either
the rearing of their own young, or the consumption of the farmer's
family requires; and they produce most at one particular season. But of
all the productions of land, milk is perhaps the most perishable. In the
warm season, when it is most abundant, it will scarce keep
four-and-twenty hours. The farmer, by making it into fresh butter,
stores a small part of it for a week; by making it into salt butter, for
a year; and by making it into cheese, he stores a much greater part of
it for several years. Part of all these is reserved for the use of his
own family; the rest goes to market, in order to find the best price
which is to be had, and which can scarce be so low is to discourage him
from sending thither whatever is over and above the use of his own
family. If it is very low indeed, he will be likely to manage his dairy
in a very slovenly and dirty manner, and will scarce, perhaps, think it
worth while to have a particular room or building on purpose for it, but
will suffer the business to be carried on amidst the smoke, filth, and
nastiness of his own kitchen, as was the case of almost all the farmers'
dairies in Scotland thirty or forty years ago, and as is the case of
many of them still. The same causes which gradually raise the price of
butcher's meat, the increase of the demand, and, in consequence of the
improvement of the country, the diminution of the quantity which can be
fed at little or no expense, raise, in the same manner, that of the
produce of the dairy, of which the price naturally connects with that of
butcher's meat, or with the expense of feeding cattle. The increase of
price pays for more labour, care, and cleanliness. The dairy becomes
more worthy of the farmer's attention, and the quality of its produce
gradually improves. The price at last gets so high, that it becomes
worth while to employ some of the most fertile and best cultivated lands
in feeding cattle merely for the purpose of the dairy; and when it has
got to this height, it cannot well go higher. If it did, more land would
soon be turned to this purpose. It seems to have got to this height
through the greater part of England, where much good land is commonly
employed in this manner. If you except the neighbourhood of a few
considerable towns, it seems not yet to have got to this height anywhere
in Scotland, where common farmers seldom employ much good land in
raising food for cattle, merely for the purpose of the dairy. The price
of the produce, though it has risen very considerably within these few
years, is probably still too low to admit of it. The inferiority of the
quality, indeed, compared with that of the produce of English dairies,
is fully equal to that of the price. But this inferiority of quality is,
perhaps, rather the effect of this lowness of price, than the cause of
it. Though the quality was much better, the greater part of what is
brought to market could not, I apprehend, in the present circumstances
of the country, be disposed of at a much better price; and the present
price, it is probable, would not pay the expense of the land and labour
necessary for producing a much better quality. Through the greater part
of England, notwithstanding the superiority of price, the dairy is not
reckoned a more profitable employment of land than the raising of corn,
or the fattening of cattle, the two great objects of agriculture.
Through the greater part of Scotland, therefore, it cannot yet be even
so profitable.
The lands of no country, it is
evident, can ever be completely cultivated and improved, till once the
price of every produce, which human industry is obliged to raise upon
them, has got so high as to pay for the expense of complete improvement
and cultivation. In order to do this, the price of each particular
produce must be sufficient, first, to pay the rent of good corn land, as
it is that which regulates the rent of the greater part of other
cultivated land; and, secondly, to pay the labour and expense of the
farmer, as well as they are commonly paid upon good corn land; or, in
other words, to replace with the ordinary profits the stock which he
employs about it. This rise in the price of each particular produce;
must evidently be previous to the improvement and cultivation of the
land which is destined for raising it. Gain is the end of all
improvement; and nothing could deserve that name, of which loss was to
be the necessary consequence. But loss must be the necessary consequence
of improving land for the sake of a produce of which the price could
never bring back the expense. If the complete improvement and
cultivation of the country be, as it most certainly is, the greatest of
all public advantages, this rise in the price of all those different
sorts of rude produce, instead of being considered as a public calamity,
ought to be regarded as the necessary forerunner and attendant of the
greatest of all public advantages.
This rise, too, in the nominal
or money price of all those different sorts of rude produce, has been
the effect, not of any degradation in the value of silver, but of a rise
in their real price. They have become worth, not only a greater quantity
of silver, but a greater quantity of labour and subsistence than before.
As it costs a greater quantity of labour and subsistence to bring them
to market, so, when they are brought thither they represent, or are
equivalent to a greater quantity.
Third Sort
The third and last
sort of rude produce, of which the price naturally rises in the progress
of improvement, is that in which the efficacy of human industry, in
augmenting the quantity, is either limited or uncertain. Though the real
price of this sort of rude produce, therefore, naturally tends to rise
in the progress of improvement, yet, according as different accidents
happen to render the efforts of human industry more or less successful
in augmenting the quantity, it may happen sometimes even to fall,
sometimes to continue the same, in very different periods of
improvement, and sometimes to rise more or less in the same period.
There are some sorts of rude
produce which nature has rendered a kind of appendages to other sorts;
so that the quantity of the one which any country can afford, is
necessarily limited by that of the other. The quantity of wool or of raw
hides, for example, which any country can afford, is necessarily limited
by the number of great and small cattle that are kept in it. The state
of its improvement, and the nature of its agriculture, again necessarily
determine this number.
The same causes which, in the
progress of improvement, gradually raise the price of butcher's meat,
should have the same effect, it may be thought, upon the prices of wool
and raw hides, and raise them, too, nearly in the same proportion. It
probably would be so, if, in the rude beginnings of improvement, the
market for the latter commodities was confined within as narrow bounds
as that for the former. But the extent of their respective markets is
commonly extremely different.
The market for butcher's meat
is almost everywhere confined to the country which produces it. Ireland,
and some part of British America, indeed, carry on a considerable trade
in salt provisions; but they are, I believe, the only countries in the
commercial world which do so, or which export to other countries any
considerable part of their butcher's meat.
The market for wool and raw
hides, on the contrary, is, in the rude beginnings of improvement, very
seldom confined to the country which produces them. They can easily be
transported to distant countries; wool without any preparation, and raw
hides with very little; and as they are the materials of many
manufactures, the industry of other countries may occasion a demand for
them, though that of the country which produces them might not occasion
any.
In countries ill cultivated,
and therefore but thinly inhabited, the price of the wool and the hide
bears always a much greater proportion to that of the whole beast, than
in countries where, improvement and population being further advanced,
there is more demand for butcher's meat. Mr Hume observes, that in the
Saxon times, the fleece was estimated at two-fifths of the value of the
whole sheep and that this was much above the proportion of its present
estimation. In some provinces of Spain, I have been assured, the sheep
is frequently killed merely for the sake of the fleece and the tallow.
The carcase is often left to rot upon the ground, or to be devoured by
beasts and birds of prey. If this sometimes happens even in Spain, it
happens almost constantly in Chili, at Buenos Ayres, and in many other
parts of Spanish America, where the horned cattle are almost constantly
killed merely for the sake of the hide and the tallow. This, too, used
to happen almost constantly in Hispaniola, while it was infested by the
buccaneers, and before the settlement, improvement, and populousness of
the French plantations ( which now extend round the coast of almost the
whole western half of the island) had given some value to the cattle of
the Spaniards, who still continue to possess, not only the eastern part
of the coast, but the whole inland mountainous part of the country.
Though, in the progress of
improvement and population, the price of the whole beast necessarily
rises, yet the price of the carcase is likely to be much more affected
by this rise than that of the wool and the hide. The market for the
carcase being in the rude state of society confined always to the
country which produces it, must necessarily be extended in proportion to
the improvement and population of that country. But the market for the
wool and the hides, even of a barbarous country, often extending to the
whole commercial world, it can very seldom be enlarged in the same
proportion. The state of the whole commercial world can seldom be much
affected by the improvement of any particular country; and the market
for such commodities may remain the same, or very nearly the same, after
such improvements, as before. It should, however, in the natural course
of things, rather, upon the whole, be somewhat extended in consequence
of them. If the manufactures, especially, of which those commodities are
the materials, should ever come to flourish in the country, the market,
though it might not be much enlarged, would at least be brought much
nearer to the place of growth than before; and the price of those
materials might at least be increased by what had usually been the
expense of transporting them to distant countries. Though it might not
rise, therefore, in the same proportion as that of butcher's meat, it
ought naturally to rise somewhat, and it ought certainly not to fall.
In England, however,
notwithstanding the flourishing state of its woollen manufacture, the
price of English wool has fallen very considerably since the time of
Edward III. There are many authentic records which demonstrate that,
during the reign of that prince (towards the middle of the fourteenth
century, or about 1339), what was reckoned the moderate and reasonable
price of the tod, or twenty-eight pounds of English wool, was not less
than ten shillings of the money of those times, containing, at the rate of
twenty-pence the ounce, six ounces of silver, Tower weight, equal to
about thirty shillings of our present money. In the present times,
one-and-twenty shillings the tod may be reckoned a good price for very
good English wool. The money price of wool, therefore, in the time of
Edward III. was to its money price in the present times as ten to seven.
The superiority of its real price was still greater. At the rate of six
shillings and eightpence the quarter, ten shillings was in those ancient
times the price of twelve bushels of wheat. At the rate of twenty-eight
shillings the quarter, one-and-twenty shillings is in the present times
the price of six bushels only. The proportion between the real price of
ancient and modern times, therefore, is as twelve to six, or as two to
one. In those ancient times, a tod of wool would have purchased twice
the quantity of subsistence which it will purchase at present, and
consequently twice the quantity of labour, if the real recompence of
labour had been the same in both periods.
This degradation, both in the
real and nominal value of wool, could never have happened in consequence
of the natural course of things. It has accordingly been the effect of
violence and artifice. First, of the absolute prohibition of exporting
wool from England: secondly, of the permission of importing it from
Spain, duty free: thirdly, of the prohibition of exporting it from
Ireland to another country but England. In consequence of these
regulations, the market for English wool, instead of being somewhat
extended, in consequence of the improvement of England, has been
confined to the home market, where the wool of several other countries
is allowed to come into competition with it, and where that of Ireland
is forced into competition with it. As the woollen manufactures, too, of
Ireland, are fully as much discouraged as is consistent with justice and
fair dealing, the Irish can work up but a smaller part of their own wool
at home, and are therefore obliged to send a greater proportion of it to
Great Britain, the only market they are allowed.
I have not been able to find
any such authentic records concerning the price of raw hides in ancient
times. Wool was commonly paid as a subsidy to the king, and its
valuation in that subsidy ascertains, at least in some degree, what was
its ordinary price. But this seems not to have been the case with raw
hides. Fleetwood, however, from an account in 1425, between the prior of
Burcester Oxford and one of his canons, gives us their price, at least
as it was stated upon that particular occasion, viz. five ox hides at
twelve shillings; five cow hides at seven shillings and threepence;
thirtysix sheep skins of two years old at nine shillings; sixteen calf
skins at two shillings. In 1425, twelve shillings contained about the
same quantity of silver as four-and-twenty shillings of our present
money. An ox hide, therefore, was in this account valued at the same
quantity of silver as 4s. 4/5ths of our present money. Its nominal price
was a good deal lower than at present. But at the rate of six shillings
and eightpence the quarter, twelve shillings would in those times have
purchased fourteen bushels and four-fifths of a bushel of wheat, which,
at three and sixpence the bushel, would in the present times cost 51s.
4d. An ox hide, therefore, would in those times have purchased as much
corn as ten shillings and threepence would purchase at present. Its real
value was equal to ten shillings and threepence of our present money. In
those ancient times, when the cattle were half starved during the
greater part of the winter, we cannot suppose that they were of a very
large size. An ox hide which weighs four stone of sixteen pounds of
avoirdupois, is not in the present times reckoned a bad one; and in
those ancient times would probably have been reckoned a very good one.
But at half-a-crown the stone, which at this moment (February 1773) I
understand to be the common price, such a hide would at present cost
only ten shillings. Through its nominal price, therefore, is higher in
the present than it was in those ancient times, its real price, the real
quantity of subsistence which it will purchase or command, is rather
somewhat lower. The price of cow hides, as stated in the above account,
is nearly in the common proportion to that of ox hides. That of sheep
skins is a good deal above it. They had probably been sold with the
wool. That of calves skins, on the contrary, is greatly below it. In
countries where the price of cattle is very low, the calves, which are
not intended to be reared in order to keep up the stock, are generally
killed very young, as was the case in Scotland twenty or thirty years
ago. It saves the milk, which their price would not pay for. Their
skins, therefore, are commonly good for little.
The price of raw hides is a
good deal lower at present than it was a few years ago; owing probably
to the taking off the duty upon seal skins, and to the allowing, for a
limited time, the importation of raw hides from Ireland, and from the
plantations, duty free, which was done in 1769. Take the whole of the
present century at an average, their real price has probably been
somewhat higher than it was in those ancient times. The nature of the
commodity renders it not quite so proper for being transported to
distant markets as wool. It suffers more by keeping. A salted hide is
reckoned inferior to a fresh one, and sells for a lower price. This
circumstance must necessarily have some tendency to sink the price of
raw hides produced in a country which does not manufacture them, but is
obliged to export them, and comparatively to raise that of those
produced in a country which does manufacture them. It must have some
tendency to sink their price in a barbarous, and to raise it in an
improved and manufacturing country. It must have had some tendency,
therefore, to sink it in ancient, and to raise it in modern times. Our
tanners, besides, have not been quite so successful as our clothiers, in
convincing the wisdom of the nation, that the safety of the commonwealth
depends upon the prosperity of their particular manufacture. They have
accordingly been much less favoured. The exportation of raw hides has,
indeed, been prohibited, and declared a nuisance; but their importation
from foreign countries has been subjected to a duty; and though this
duty has been taken off from those of Ireland and the plantations (for
the limited time of five years only), yet Ireland has not been confined
to the market of Great Britain for the sale of its surplus hides, or of
those which are not manufactured at home. The hides of common cattle
have, but within these few years, been put among the enumerated
commodities which the plantations can send nowhere but to the mother
country; neither has the commerce of Ireland been in this case oppressed
hitherto, in order to support the manufactures of Great Britain.
Whatever regulations tend to
sink the price, either of wool or of raw hides, below what it naturally
would he, must, in an improved and cultivated country, have some
tendency to raise the price of butcher's meat. The price both of the
great and small cattle, which are fed on improved and cultivated land,
must be sufficient to pay the rent which the landlord, and the profit
which the farmer, has reason to expect from improved and cultivated
land. If it is not, they will soon cease to feed them. Whatever part of
this price, therefore, is not paid by the wool and the hide, must be
paid by the carcase. The less there is paid for the one, the more must
be paid for the other. In what manner this price is to be divided upon
the different parts of the beast, is indifferent to the landlords and
farmers, provided it is all paid to them. In an improved and cultivated
country, therefore, their interest as landlords and farmers cannot be
much affected by such regulations, though their interest as consumers
may, by the rise in the price of provisions. It would be quite
otherwise, however, in an unimproved and uncultivated country, where the
greater part of the lands could be applied to no other purpose but the
feeding of cattle, and where the wool and the hide made the principal
part of the value of those cattle. Their interest as landlords and
farmers would in this case be very deeply affected by such regulations,
and their interest as consumers very little. The fall in the price of
the wool and the hide would not in this case raise the price of the
carcase; because the greater part of the lands of the country being
applicable to no other purpose but the feeding of cattle, the same
number would still continue to be fed. The same quantity of butcher's
meat would still come to market. The demand for it would be no greater
than before. Its price, therefore, would be the same as before. The
whole price of cattle would fall, and along with it both the rent and
the profit of all those lands of which cattle was the principal produce,
that is, of the greater part of the lands of the country. The perpetual
prohibition of the exportation of wool, which is commonly, but very
falsely, ascribed to Edward III., would, in the then circumstances of
the country, have been the most destructive regulation which could well
have been thought of. It would not only have reduced the actual value of
the greater part of the lands in the kingdom, but by reducing the price
of the most important species of small cattle, it would have retarded
very much its subsequent improvement.
The wool of Scotland fell very
considerably in its price in consequence of the union with England, by
which it was excluded from the great market of Europe, and confined to
the narrow one of Great Britain. The value of the greater part of the
lands in the southern counties of Scotland, which are chiefly a sheep
country, would have been very deeply affected by this event, had not the
rise in the price of butcher's meat fully compensated the fall in the
price of wool.
As the efficacy of human
industry, in increasing the quantity either of wool or of raw hides, is
limited, so far as it depends upon the produce of the country where it
is exerted; so it is uncertain so far as it depends upon the produce of
other countries. It so far depends not so much upon the quantity which
they produce, as upon that which they do not manufacture; and upon the
restraints which they may or may not think proper to impose upon the
exportation of this sort of rude produce. These circumstances, as they
are altogether independent of domestic industry, so they necessarily
render the efficacy of its efforts more or less uncertain. In
multiplying this sort of rude produce, therefore, the efficacy of human
industry is not only limited, but uncertain.
In multiplying another very
important sort of rude produce, the quantity of fish that is brought to
market, it is likewise both limited and uncertain. It is limited by the
local situation of the country, by the proximity or distance of its
different provinces from the sea, by the number of its lakes and rivers,
and by what may be called the fertility or barrenness of those seas,
lakes, and rivers, as to this sort of rude produce. As population
increases, as the annual produce of the land and labour of the country
grows greater and greater, there come to be more buyers of fish; and
those buyers, too, have a greater quantity and variety of other goods,
or, what is the same thing, the price of a greater quantity and variety
of other goods, to buy with. But it will generally be impossible to
supply the great and extended market, without employing a quantity of
labour greater than in proportion to what had been requisite for
supplying the narrow and confined one. A market which, from requiring
only one thousand, comes to require annually ten thousand ton of fish,
can seldom be supplied, without employing more than ten times the
quantity of labour which had before been sufficient to supply it. The
fish must generally be sought for at a greater distance, larger vessels
must be employed, and more expensive machinery of every kind made use
of. The real price of this commodity, therefore, naturally rises in the
progress of improvement. It has accordingly done so, I believe, more or
less in every country.
Though the success of a
particular day's fishing maybe a very uncertain matter, yet the local
situation of the country being supposed, the general efficacy of
industry in bringing a certain quantity of fish to market, taking the
course of a year, or of several years together, it may, perhaps, be
thought is certain enough; and it, no doubt, is so. As it depends more,
however, upon the local situation of the country, than upon the state of
its wealth and industry; as upon this account it may in different
countries be the same in very different periods of improvement, and very
different in the same period; its connection with the state of
improvement is uncertain; and it is of this sort of uncertainty that I
am here speaking.
In increasing the quantity of
the different minerals and metals which are drawn from the bowels of the
earth, that of the more precious ones particularly, the efficacy of
human industry seems not to be limited, but to be altogether uncertain.
The quantity of the precious
metals which is to be found in any country, is not limited by any thing
in its local situation, such as the fertility or barrenness of its own
mines. Those metals frequently abound in countries which possess no
mines. Their quantity, in every particular country, seems to depend upon
two different circumstances; first, upon its power of purchasing, upon
the state of its industry, upon the annual produce of its land and
labour, in consequence of which it can afford to employ a greater or a
smaller quantity of labour and subsistence, in bringing or purchasing
such superfluities as gold and silver, either from its own mines, or
from those of other countries; and, secondly, upon the fertility or
barrenness of the mines which may happen at any particular time to
supply the commercial world with those metals. The quantity of those
metals in the countries most remote from the mines, must be more or less
affected by this fertility or barrenness, on account of the easy and
cheap transportation of those metals, of their small bulk and great
value. Their quantity in China and Indostan must have been more or less
affected by the abundance of the mines of America.
So far as their quantity in any
particular country depends upon the former of those two circumstances
(the power of purchasing), their real price, like that of all other
luxuries and superfluities, is likely to rise with the wealth and
improvement of the country, and to fall with its poverty and depression.
Countries which have a great quantity of labour and subsistence to
spare, can afford to purchase any particular quantity of those metals at
the expense of a greater quantity of labour and subsistence, than
countries which have less to spare.
So far as their quantity in any
particular country depends upon the latter of those two circumstances
(the fertility or barrenness of the mines which happen to supply the
commercial world), their real price, the real quantity of labour and
subsistence which they will purchase or exchange for, will, no doubt,
sink more or less in proportion to the fertility, and rise in proportion
to the barrenness of those mines.
The fertility or barrenness of
the mines, however, which may happen at any particular time to supply
the commercial world, is a circumstance which, it is evident, may have
no sort of connection with the state of industry in a particular
country. It seems even to have no very necessary connection with that of
the world in general. As arts and commerce, indeed, gradually spread
themselves over a greater and a greater part of the earth, the search
for new mines, being extended over a wider surface, may have somewhat a
better chance for being successful than when confined within narrower
bounds. The discovery of new mines, however, as the old ones come to be
gradually exhausted, is a matter of the greatest uncertainty, and such
as no human skill or industry can insure. All indications, it is
acknowledged, are doubtful; and the actual discovery and successful
working of a new mine can alone ascertain the reality of its value, or
even of its existence. In this search there seem to be no certain
limits, either to the possible success, or to the possible
disappointment of human industry. In the course of a century or two, it
is possible that new mines may be discovered, more fertile than any that
have ever yet been known; and it is just equally possible, that the most
fertile mine then known may be more barren than any that was wrought
before the discovery of the mines of America. Whether the one or the
other of those two events may happen to take place, is of very little
importance to the real wealth and prosperity of the world, to the real
value of the annual produce of the land and labour of mankind. Its
nominal value, the quantity of gold and silver by which this annual
produce could be expressed or represented, would, no doubt, be very
different; but its real value, the real quantity of labour which it
could purchase or command, would be precisely the same. A shilling
might, in the one case, represent no more labour than a penny does at
present; and a penny, in the other, might represent as much as a
shilling does now. But in the one case, he who had a shilling in his
pocket would be no richer than he who has a penny at present; and in the
other, he who had a penny would be just as rich as he who has a shilling
now. The cheapness and abundance of gold and silver plate would be the
sole advantage which the world could derive from the one event; and the
dearness and scarcity of those trifling superfluities, the only
inconveniency it could suffer from the other.
Effects of the Progress of
Improvement upon the real Price of Manufactures
It is the natural effect of
improvement, however, to diminish gradually the real price of almost all
manufactures. That of the manufacturing workmanship diminishes, perhaps,
in all of them without exception. In consequence of better machinery, of
greater dexterity, and of a more proper division and distribution of
work, all of which are the natural effects of improvement, a much
smaller quantity of labour becomes requisite for executing any
particular piece of work; and though, in consequence of the flourishing
circumstances of the society, the real price of labour should rise very
considerably, yet the great diminution of the quantity will generally
much more than compensate the greatest rise which can happen in the
price.
There are, indeed, a few
manufactures, in which the necessary rise in the real price of the rude
materials will more than compensate all the advantages which improvement
can introduce into the execution of the work In carpenters' and joiners'
work, and in the coarser sort of cabinet work, the necessary rise in the
real price of barren timber, in consequence of the improvement of land,
will more than compensate all the advantages which can be derived from
the best machinery, the greatest dexterity, and the most proper division
and distribution of work.
But in all cases in which the
real price of the rude material either does not rise at all, or does not
rise very much, that of the manufactured commodity sinks very
considerably.
This diminution of price has,
in the course of the present and preceding century, been most remarkable
in those manufactures of which the materials are the coarser metals. A
better movement of a watch, than about the middle of the last century
could have been bought for twenty pounds, may now perhaps be had for
twenty shillings. In the work of cutlers and locksmiths, in all the toys
which are made of the coarser metals, and in all those goods which are
commonly known by the name of Birmingham and Sheffield ware, there has
been, during the same period, a very great reduction of price, though
not altogether so great as in watch-work. It has, however, been
sufficient to astonish the workmen of every other part of Europe, who in
many cases acknowledge that they can produce no work of equal goodness
for double or even for triple the price. There are perhaps no
manufactures, in which the division of labour can be carried further, or
in which the machinery employed admits of' a greater variety of
improvements, than those of which the materials are the coarser metals.
In the clothing manufacture
there has, during the same period, been no such sensible reduction of
price. The price of superfine cloth, I have been assured, on the
contrary, has, within these five-and-twenty or thirty years, risen
somewhat in proportion to its quality, owing, it was said, to a
considerable rise in the price of the material, which consists
altogether of Spanish wool. That of the Yorkshire cloth, which is made
altogether of English wool, is said, indeed, during the course of the
present century, to have fallen a good deal in proportion to its
quality. Quality, however, is so very disputable a matter, that I look
upon all information of this kind as somewhat uncertain. In the clothing
manufacture, the division of labour is nearly the same now as it was a
century ago, and the machinery employed is not very different. There
may, however, have been some small improvements in both, which may have
occasioned some reduction of price.
But the reduction will appear
much more sensible and undeniable, if we compare the price of this
manufacture in the present times with what it was in a much remoter
period, towards the end of the fifteenth century, when the labour was
probably much less subdivided, and the machinery employed much more
imperfect, than it is at present.
In 1487, being the 4th of Henry
VII., it was enacted, that "whosoever shall sell by retail a broad yard
of the finest scarlet grained, or of other grained cloth of the finest
making, above sixteen shillings, shall forfeit forty shillings for every
yard so sold." Sixteen shillings, therefore, containing about the same
quantity of silver as four-and-twenty shillings of our present money,
was, at that time, reckoned not an unreasonable price for a yard of the
finest cloth; and as this is a sumptuary law, such cloth, it is
probable, had usually been sold somewhat dearer. A guinea may be
reckoned the highest price in the present times. Even though the quality
of the cloths, therefore, should be supposed equal, and that of the
present times is most probably much superior, yet, even upon this
supposition, the money price of the finest cloth appears to have been
considerably reduced since the end of the fifteenth century. But its
real price has been much more reduced. Six shillings and eightpence was
then, and long afterwards, reckoned the average price of a quarter of
wheat. Sixteen shillings, therefore, was the price of two quarters and
more than three bushels of wheat. Valuing a quarter of wheat in the
present times at eight-and-twenty shillings, the real price of a yard of
fine cloth must, in those times, have been equal to at least three
pounds six shillings and sixpence of our present money. The man who
bought it must have parted with the command of a quantity of labour and
subsistence equal to what that sum would purchase in the present times.
The reduction in the real price
of the coarse manufacture, though considerable, has not been so great as
in that of the fine.
In 1463, being the 3rd of
Edward IV. it was enacted, that "no servant in husbandry nor common
labourer, nor servant to any artificer inhabiting out of a city or
burgh, shall use or wear in their clothing any cloth above two shillings
the broad yard." In the 3rd of Edward IV., two shillings contained very
nearly the same quantity of silver as four of our present money. But the
Yorkshire cloth which is now sold at four shillings the yard, is
probably much superior to any that was then made for the wearing of the
very poorest order of common servants. Even the money price of their
clothing, therefore, may, in proportion to the quality, be somewhat
cheaper in the present than it was in those ancient times. The real
price is certainly a good deal cheaper. Tenpence was then reckoned what
is called the moderate and reasonable price of a bushel of wheat. Two
shillings, therefore, was the price of two bushels and near two pecks of
wheat, which in the present times, at three shillings and sixpence the
bushel, would be worth eight shillings and ninepence. For a yard of this
cloth the poor servant must have parted with the power of purchasing a
quantity of subsistence equal to what eight shillings and ninepence
would purchase in the present times. This is a sumptuary law, too,
restraining the luxury and extravagance of the poor. Their clothing,
therefore, had commonly been much more expensive.
The same order of people are,
by the same law, prohibited from wearing hose, of which the price should
exceed fourteen-pence the pair, equal to about eight-and-twenty pence of
our present money. But fourteen-pence was in those times the price of a
bushel and near two pecks of wheat; which in the present times, at three
and sixpence the bushel, would cost five shillings and threepence. We
should in the present times consider this as a very high price for a
pair of stockings to a servant of the poorest and lowest order. He must
however, in those times, have paid what was really equivalent to this
price for them.
In the time of Edward IV. the
art of knitting stockings was probably not known in any part of Europe.
Their hose were made of common cloth, which may have been one of the
causes of their dearness. The first person that wore stockings in
England is said to have been Queen Elizabeth. She received them as a
present from the Spanish ambassador.
Both in the coarse and in the
fine woollen manufacture, the machinery employed was much more imperfect
in those ancient, than it is in the present times. It has since received
three very capital improvements, besides, probably, many smaller ones,
of which it may be difficult to ascertain either the number or the
importance. The three capital improvements are, first, the exchange of
the rock and spindle for the spinning-wheel, which, with the same
quantity of labour, will perform more than double the quantity of work.
Secondly, the use of several very ingenious machines, which facilitate
and abridge, in a still greater proportion, the winding of the worsted
and woollen yarn, or the proper arrangement of the warp and woof before
they are put into the loom; an operation which, previous to the
invention of those machines, must have been extremely tedious and
troublesome. Thirdly, the employment of the fulling-mill for thickening
the cloth, instead of treading it in water. Neither wind nor water mills
of any kind were known in England so early as the beginning of the
sixteenth century, nor, so far as I know, in any other part of Europe
north of the Alps. They had been introduced into Italy some time before.
The consideration of these
circumstances may, perhaps, in some measure, explain to us why the real
price both of the coarse and of the fine manufacture was so much higher
in those ancient than it is in the present times. It cost a greater
quantity of labour to bring the goods to market. When they were brought
thither, therefore, they must have purchased, or exchanged for the price
of, a greater quantity.
The coarse manufacture probably
was, in those ancient times, carried on in England in the same manner as
it always has been in countries where arts and manufactures are in their
infancy. It was probably a household manufacture, in which every
different part of the work was occasionally performed by all the
different members of almost every private family, but so as to be their
work only when they had nothing else to do, and not to be the principal
business from which any of them derived the greater part of their
subsistence. The work which is performed in this manner, it has already
been observed, comes always much cheaper to market than that which is
the principal or sole fund of the workman's subsistence. The fine
manufacture, on the other hand, was not, in those times, carried on in
England, but in the rich and commercial country of Flanders; and it was
probably conducted then, in the same manner as now, by people who
derived the whole, or the principal part of their subsistence from it.
It was, besides, a foreign manufacture, and must have paid some duty,
the ancient custom of tonnage and poundage at least, to the king. This
duty, indeed, would not probably be very great. It was not then the
policy of Europe to restrain, by high duties, the importation of foreign
manufactures, but rather to encourage it, in order that merchants might
be enabled to supply, at as easy a rate as possible, the great men with
the conveniencies and luxuries which they wanted, and which the industry
of their own country could not afford them.
The consideration of these
circumstances may, perhaps, in some measure explain to us why, in those
ancient times, the real price of the coarse manufacture was, in
proportion to that of the fine, so much lower than in the present times.
Conclusion of the Chapter
I shall conclude this very long
chapter with observing, that every improvement in the circumstances of
the society tends, either directly or indirectly, to raise the real rent
of land to increase the real wealth of the landlord, his power of
purchasing the labour, or the produce of the labour of other people.
The extension of improvement
and cultivation tends to raise it directly. The landlord's share of the
produce necessarily increases with the increase of the produce.
That rise in the real price of
those parts of the rude produce of land, which is first the effect of
the extended improvement and cultivation, and afterwards the cause of
their being still further extended, the rise in the price of cattle, for
example, tends, too, to raise the rent of land directly, and in a still
greater proportion. The real value of the landlord's share, his real
command of the labour of other people, not only rises with the real
value of the produce, but the proportion of his share to the whole
produce rises with it.
That produce, after the rise in
its real price, requires no more labour to collect it than before. A
smaller proportion of it will, therefore, be sufficient to replace, with
the ordinary profit, the stock which employs that labour. A greater
proportion of it must consequently belong to the landlord.
All those improvements in the
productive powers of labour, which tend directly to reduce the rent
price of manufactures, tend indirectly to raise the real rent of land.
The landlord exchanges that part of his rude produce, which is over and
above his own consumption, or, what comes to the same thing, the price
of that part of it, for manufactured produce. Whatever reduces the real
price of the latter, raises that of the former. An equal quantity of the
former becomes thereby equivalent to a greater quantity of the latter;
and the landlord is enabled to purchase a greater quantity of the
conveniencies, ornaments, or luxuries which he has occasion for.
Every increase in the real
wealth of the society, every increase in the quantity of useful labour
employed within it, tends indirectly to raise the real rent of land. A
certain proportion of this labour naturally goes to the land. A greater
number of men and cattle are employed in its cultivation, the produce
increases with the increase of the stock which is thus employed in
raising it, and the rent increases with the produce.
The contrary circumstances, the
neglect of cultivation and improvement, the fall in the real price of
any part of the rude produce of land, the rise in the real price of
manufactures from the decay of manufacturing art and industry, the
declension of the real wealth of the society, all tend, on the other
hand, to lower the real rent of land, to reduce the real wealth of the
landlord, to diminish his power of purchasing either the labour, or the
produce of the labour, of other people.
The whole annual produce of the
land and labour of every country, or, what comes to the same thing, the
whole price of that annual produce, naturally divides itself, it has
already been observed, into three parts; the rent of land, the wages of
labour, and the profits of stock; and constitutes a revenue to three
different orders of people; to those who live by rent, to those who live
by wages, and to those who live by profit. These are the three great,
original, and constituent, orders of every civilized society, from whose
revenue that of every other order is ultimately derived.
The interest of the first of
those three great orders, it appears from what has been just now said,
is strictly and inseparably connected with the general interest of the
society. Whatever either promotes or obstructs the one, necessarily
promotes or obstructs the other. When the public deliberates concerning
any regulation of commerce or police, the proprietors of land never can
mislead it, with a view to promote the interest of their own particular
order; at least, if they have any tolerable knowledge of that interest.
They are, indeed, too often defective in this tolerable knowledge. They
are the only one of the three orders whose revenue costs them neither
labour nor care, but comes to them, as it were, of its own accord, and
independent of any plan or project of their own. That indolence which is
the natural effect of the ease and security of their situation, renders
them too often, not only ignorant, but incapable of that application of
mind, which is necessary in order to foresee and understand the
consequence of any public regulation.
The interest of the second
order, that of those who live by wages, is as strictly connected with
the interest of the society as that of the first. The wages of the
labourer, it has already been shewn, are never so high as when the
demand for labour is continually rising, or when the quantity employed
is every year increasing considerably. When this real wealth of the
society becomes stationary, his wages are soon reduced to what is barely
enough to enable him to bring up a family, or to continue the race of
labourers. When the society declines, they fall even below this. The
order of proprietors may perhaps gain more by the prosperity of the
society than that of labourers; but there is no order that suffers so
cruelly from its decline. But though the interest of the labourer is
strictly connected with that of the society, he is incapable either of
comprehending that interest, or of understanding its connexion with his
own. His condition leaves him no time to receive the necessary
information, and his education and habits are commonly such as to render
him unfit to judge, even though he was fully informed. In the public
deliberations, therefore, his voice is little heard, and less regarded;
except upon particular occasions, when his clamour is animated, set on,
and supported by his employers, not for his, but their own particular
purposes.
His employers constitute the
third order, that of those who live by profit. It is the stock that is
employed for the sake of profit, which puts into motion the greater part
of the useful labour of every society. The plans and projects of the
employers of stock regulate and direct all the most important operation
of labour, and profit is the end proposed by all those plans and
projects. But the rate of profit does not, like rent and wages, rise
with the prosperity, and fall with the declension of the society. On the
contrary, it is naturally low in rich, and high in poor countries, and
it is always highest in the countries which are going fastest to ruin.
The interest of this third order, therefore, has not the same connexion
with the general interest of the society, as that of the other two.
Merchants and master manufacturers are, in this order, the two classes
of people who commonly employ the largest capitals, and who by their
wealth draw to themselves the greatest share of the public
consideration. As during their whole lives they are engaged in plans and
projects, they have frequently more acuteness of understanding than the
greater part of country gentlemen. As their thoughts, however, are
commonly exercised rather about the interest of their own particular
branch of business. than about that of the society, their judgment, even
when given with the greatest candour (which it has not been upon every
occasion), is much more to be depended upon with regard to the former of
those two objects, than with regard to the latter. Their superiority
over the country gentleman is, not so much in their knowledge of the
public interest, as in their having a better knowledge of their own
interest than he has of his. It is by this superior knowledge of their
own interest that they have frequently imposed upon his generosity, and
persuaded him to give up both his own interest and that of the public,
from a very simple but honest conviction, that their interest, and not
his, was the interest of the public. The interest of the dealers,
however, in any particular branch of trade or manufactures, is always in
some respects different from, and even opposite to, that of the public.
To widen the market, and to narrow the competition, is always the
interest of the dealers. To widen the market may frequently be agreeable
enough to the interest of the public; but to narrow the competition must
always be against it, and can only serve to enable the dealers, by
raising their profits above what they naturally would be, to levy, for
their own benefit, an absurd tax upon the rest of their fellow-citizens.
The proposal of any new law or regulation of commerce which comes from
this order, ought always to be listened to with great precaution, and
ought never to be adopted till after having been long and carefully
examined, not only with the most scrupulous, but with the most
suspicious attention. It comes from an order of men, whose interest is
never exactly the same with that of the public, who have generally an
interest to deceive and even to oppress the public, and who accordingly
have, upon many occasions, both deceived and oppressed it.
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