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LIBRARY 

THE  ONTARIO  INSTITUTE 

FOR  STUDIES  IN  EDUCATION 

TORONTO,  CANADA 


LECTUEES  ON  THE 
INDUSTRIAL  REVOLUTION 

OF  THE  EIGHTEENTH   CENTURY 

IN  ENGLAND 


LECTURES 

ON  THE 

INDUSTRIAL   REVOLUTION 

OF    THE    EIGHTEENTH    CENTURY 

IN   ENGLAND 

POPULAR  ADDRESSES,  NOTES,  AND 
OTHER  FRAGMENTS 

BY  THELATI 

ARNOLD    TOYNBEE 

TCTOB  OF  SAXUOL  COLUEOX,   OrrOBO 

Together  with  a  Reminiscence  by 
LORD    MILNER 

SEFSSTH  IMPRBSSIOX 


LONGMANS,    GREEN,    AND    CO. 
39  PATERNOSTER  ROW,  LONDON,  E.C.  4 

NEW  YORK.  TOROSTO 
BOMBAY,  CALCUTTA,  AND  MADRAS 

1923 


BIBLIOGRAPHICAL  NOTE. 

First  Edition,  May  1884. 
Eeprinted  December  1SS6,  NoveinberlSOO. 
New  Edition  with  Ajspendix,  March  1894. 
Reprinted  November  1896,  February  1902,  June  1906. 
New  and  Cheaper  Edition,  September  1908. 

Reprinted  January  1912,  October  1913,  November  1916,  March  1919, 
January  1920,  January  1923. 


Made  in  Great  Britain 


PREFATORY    NOTE 

Tub  cheaper  edition  of  the  Industrial  Revolution  now  issued 
has  been  called  for  by  the  increasing  use  of  the  book  as 
an  authority  on  the  period  indicated  by  its  title  and  by 
the  appreciation  of  the  whole  of  its  contents  on  the  part  of 
educated  working  men. 

A  few  words  of  explanation  are  necessary  as  to  the  form 
in  which  these  Lectures  and  Addresses  appear.  It  was 
after  considerable  hesitation  that  I  consented  to  print 
them.  Of  all  that  is  contained  in  the  volume,  nothing  was 
left  by  my  husband  in  a  form  intended  for  publication; 
and,  possessed  of  a  rare  love  of  perfection,  he  would  have 
been  the  first  himself  to  deprecate  giving  permanency  to 
imperfect  work.  Speech  rather  than  writing  was  his 
natural  mode  of  expression;  in  conversation  even,  he 
would  freely  and  ungrudgingly  give  forth  his  best  thoughts 
and  the  result  of  researches  which  had  cost  him  the  most 
labour;  and  he  neither  wrote  his  lectures  and  addresses 
before  deliveriug  them,  nor  used  any  notes  in  speaking. 
Hence  though  he  had  industriously  collected  in  note-books 
a  mass  of  materials,  at  the  time  of  his  death  he  left  nothing 
ready  for  publication;  a  fact  which  will  account  for  the 
fragmentary  character  and  unequal  merit  of  the  contents  of 
the  present  volume.  The  unfinished  Essay  on  Ricardo,  the 
chapter  on   the   Disappearance   of  the   Yeomanry   in   tiie 


ri  PREFATORY  NOTE 

Lectures  on  the  Industrial  Revolution,  and  the  short  paper 
entitled  the  Education  of  Co-operators,  alone  are  of  his  own 
writing,  except,  of  course,  also  the  short  fragments  and 
jottings  printed  at  the  end  of  the  book. 

It  will  be  observed  that  repetitions  occur  in  the  different 
parts  of  the  volume ;  this  arises  from  my  husband  having 
himself  had  no  idea  of  giving  a  permanent  form  to  these 
Lectures  and  Addresses,  and  therefore  naturally  sometimes 
using  the  same  matter  on  various  occasions.  It  was  found 
that  to  remove  all  these  repetitions  before  publication  would 
have  broken  up  the  context  of  many  passages  to  an  extent 
which  made  their  retention  appear  the  lesser  disadvantage. 

The  Essay  on  Ricardo  was  begun  early  in  1879,  but 
thrown  aside  unfinished,  because  he  was  dissatisfied  with  it 
and  perhaps  also  because  Bagehot's  Economic  Studies,  which 
were  published  after  the  greater  part  of  the  essay  had  been 
written,  appeared  to  him  somewhat  to  cover  the  same 
ground. 

During  the  last  year  or  two  of  my  husband's  life  he  was 
collecting  materials  for  a  detailed  history  of  the  revolution 
in  English  industry  at  the  end  of  the  last  century.  While 
engaged  in  these  studies  he  delivered,  between  October 
1881  and  May  1882,  a  course  of  lectures  on  the  economic 
history  of  England  from  1760  to  1840  for  the  Honour 
History  Schools  at  Oxford.  In  the  earlier  part  of  this 
course  he  made  use  of  some  of  the  material  which  he  was 
gathering  for  his  intended  book,  and  notes  of  the  course  are 
now  printed  under  the  general  name  of  '  The  Industrial 
Revolution.'  In  Chapter  V.  a  fragment  of  a  separate  article 
on  the  disappearance  of  the  yeomanry  at  the  end  of  tlie 
18th  century  is  incorporated.     In  the  later  lectures  of  the 


PEEFATOEY  NOTE  vii 

course  he  aimed  at  giving  his  hearers  a  general  idea  of  the 
development  of  industry,  and  of  economic  speculation,  in 
the  period  with  which  he  was  dealing.  The  time  at  his 
disposal  only  allowed  of  this  being  done  in  outline,  hence 
the  sketchiness  of  these  later  lectures.  A  strong  wish  was, 
however,  expressed  by  friends  and  former  pupils  that  the 
course  as  a  whole  should  be  recovered  as  far  as  possible. 
The  lectures  as  they  now  appear  have  been  prepared  for 
publication  by  Mr.  W.  J.  Ashley,  B.A.,^  and  Mr.  Bolton 
King,  B.A,  of  BaUiol  College,  from  their  own  excellent 
notes  compared  with  those  of  others  among  his  hearers,  and 
with  such  of  his  own  as  belonged  to  the  course.  They 
remain  not€S  and  notes  only,  those  of  the  later  lectures 
being  also  much  less  full  than  those  of  the  earlier  ones  ;  but 
my  warmest  thanks  are  due  to  both  Mr.  Ashley  and  Mr. 
Bling  for  the  large  expenditure  of  time  and  trouble  and  the 
great  care  which  they  have  bestowed  upon  the  work. 

The  Popular  Addresses  have  been  put  together  from  my 
husband's  own  notes,  and  from  newspaper  reports.  They 
were  delivered  during  the  Christmas  and  Easter  vacations 
of  1880,  1881,  and  1882,  to  audiences  of  working  men  and 
employers,  at  Bradford,  Bolton,  Leicester,  and  Newcastle,  in 
pursuance  of  an  idea  he  had  much  at  heart,  namely,  the 
advantage  of  an  impartial  discussion  of  questions  affecting 
the  relation  of  capitalists  and  working  men  before  audiences 
composed  of  members  of  both  classes. 

The  Fragments  at  the  end  of  the  book  are  jottings  from 
his  note-books — thoughts  and  images  which  struck  him  at 
different  times  and  in  different  places.  To  his  friends,  if 
not  to  the  general  public,  these  will  perhaps  be  of  more 

^  Now  Profeasror  Asliley  of  Birmiogbam  University. 


viii  PREFATORY  NOTE 

interest  than  anything  else  in  the  book,  as  being  most  truly 
representative  of  himself. 

The  only  omission  in  this  present  edition  is  that  of  an 
Appendix  which  consisted  of  two  Lectures  on  Mr.  Henry 
George's  Progress  and  Poverty :  these  did  not  appear  in  the 
original  edition  but  were  appended  to  later  reprints. 

By  the  kind  permission  of  Lord  Milner,  my  husband's 
closest  friend,  v.'ho  shared  his  entire  intellectual  life,  a  lecture 
given  by  him  at  Toynbee  Hall  is  prefixed  as  a  Memoir.* 

0.  M.  TOYNBEE. 

Oxford,  July  1908. 


^  Published  in  a  separate  volume  by  Mr.  Edward  Arnold,  under  the 
title  of  Arnold  Toynh'-e.  a  Reminiscence.  The  text  is  re^jrintcd  from  the 
Second  Impression,  1901. 


KEMINISCENCE* 
Bt  lord  milner 

It  is  no  mere  rhetorical  prelude  when  I  say  that  I  have  a 
diflBcult  task  to  perform  to-night — a  task,  in  approaching 
which  I  need  aU  your  kind  consideration  and  patience. 
For  what  is  it  I  am  trying  to  do  ?  I  am  trying  to  recall 
to  those  of  my  hearers  who  knew  him,  to  present  for  the 
first  time  to  many  others  who  did  not  know  him,  the  image 
of  a  man  who  has  been  dead  for  nearly  twelve  years,  whoso 
life  was  short  and  uneventful,  who  never  occupied  any  con- 
spicuous public  position,  or  was  Msociated  with  any  great 
achievement,  and  whose  remaining  writings — not  without 
merit  certainly,  but  inconsiderable  in  amount,  and  fragment- 
ary in  form — convey  a  most  inadequate  idea  of  the  person- 
ality of  their  author. 

His  name,  indeed,  is  commemorated  in  this  Institution,  nor 
could  he  have  a  worthier  or  more  characteristic  memorial. 
But  even  here  there  can  hardly,  from  the  circumstances  of 
the  case,  be  a  strong  living  tradition  about  him.  I  should 
be  happy  indeed,  if  I  were  able  to  give  to  such  tradition 
as  there  is  greater  fulness  and  vitality.  I  am  impelled  to 
attempt  this,  because  I  knew  him  so  well,  esteemed  him  so 
highly,  because,  in  spite  of  the  lapse  of  years,  his  thought, 
his  aspirations,  his  manner  of  speech,  yea,  the  very  expres- 
sion of  his  countenance  and  the  tone  of  his  voice,  are  ao 

*  This  Reminiscence  of  Arnold  Toynbeo  was  written  u  an  address  to 
the  meTTibcrs  of  Toynbee  Hall,  and  deliTcred  at  that  place  on  27th 
November  1894. 

iz 


X  REMINISCENCE 

vividly  present  to  me,  and  seem  to  me  still,  though  I  am 
long  past  the  age  of  illusions,  no  less  noble  and  inspiring 
than  they  did  in  the  radiant  days  of  youthful  idealism,  when 
we  first  were  friends.  I  feel  I  should  confer  a  great  boon 
on  any  man  whom  I  could  help  to  realise  Arnold  Toynbee. 
But,  at  the  same  time,  I  am  painfully  conscious  that  all  I 
say  may  seem  a  mere  string  of  words,  and  that  I  may  not  at 
all  be  able  to  call  up  the  picture  of  a  living  man. 

Yet  the  attempt  must  be  made,  and  the  best  thing  I  can 
do  is  to  speak  of  him  as  I  knew  him  myself.  But 
first  of  all,  to  clear  the  ground,  let  me  give  you — it  will  not 
take  five  minutes — the  chief  landmarks  of  his  life,  as  you 
might  find  them  in  a  biographical  dictionary. 

He  was  born  in  August  1852,  and  died  in  March  1883. 
He  had  a  strange,  solitary,  introspective  youth,  for  he  was 
never  long  at  school,  nor  had  he — despite  his  courage  and 
high,  if  somewhat  fitful,  spirits — the  love  of  games,  the 
careless  mind,  or  the  easy  sociability  which  make  school 
life  happy.  His  real  education  he  got  from  his  father — a 
man  of  great  gifts  and  original  character,  who  died  when 
Arnold  Toynbee  was  still  very  young — from  a  few  older 
friends,  and  from  his  own  study  and  reflection.  When  little 
more  than  eighteen,  he  went  away  by  himself,  and  spent 
nearly  a  year  alone  at  a  quiet  seaside  retreat,  reading  and 
thinking,  his  whole  mind  possessed,  even  thus  early,  with  a 
passionate  interest  in  religion  and  metaphysics  and  in  the 
philosophy  of  history.  A  year  or  two  later,  having  by  his 
father's  will  a  small  sum  of  money  at  his  command,  he  re- 
solved to  devote  it  fearlessly  to  the  completion  of  his  educa- 
tion, and  after  much  pondering  over  the  how  and  the  where, 
finally  turned  to  Oxford. 

Toynbee  went  to  that  University  in  the  spring  of  1873 
and  practically  never  left  it.  Of  his  ten  Oxford  years,  he 
spent  the  first  half,  down  to  June  1878,  as  an  undergraduate 
at  Pemoroke  and  afterwards  at  Balliol,  the  second  half, 


EEMINISCENCE  xi 

from  October  1878,  as  a  lecturer  and  tutor  at  Balliol.  There 
was  a  great  contrast  in  the  character  of  his  life  during  these 
two  periods.  His  career  as  an  undergraduate  was  retiring 
and  unambitious^  Profound  as  was  his  influence  even  then 
upon  the  small  circle  of  his  friends,  he  took  no  active  part 
in  the  traditional  contests  of  the  place — whether  physical 
or  intellectual  Delicate  health,  and  the  necessity  of  avoid- 
ing the  fatigue  and  excitement  of  competitive  examinations, 
made  him  eschew  the  race  for  honours.  He  took  an  ordi- 
nary pass  degree,  though  the  quality  of  hia  papers  was  such 
as  even  examiners  in  the  Honours  School  but  rarely  en- 
counter. But  when,  contrary  to  all  precedent,  the  modest 
passman  found  himself,  almost  immediately  after  taking  his 
degree,  appointed  lecturer  and  tutor  at  the  foremost  Oxford 
college,  and  entrusted  with  some  of  its  most  important 
work,  the  life  of  secluded  study  and  meditation  and  intimate 
converse  with  a  few  chosen  friends — that  life  which  in  his 
inmost  soul  he  ever  preferred — was  converted,  in  obedience 
to  an  inner  as  well  as  an  outer  call,  into  a  career  of  intense 
educational  and  social  activity. 

A  student,  indeed,  he  always  remained,  a  most  laborious 
and  careful  student  as  well  as  an  untiring  thinker.  But  he 
was  now  also  a  lecturer  and  teacher,  putting  his  whole  soul 
iuto  the  instruction  of  his  pupils,  not  only  in  the  class-room 
but  on  all  the  occasions  aflbrded  by  the  easy  intercourse  of 
college  life.  At  the  same  time  he  threw  himself,  with 
true  civic  enthusiasm,  into  the  cause  of  social  and  religious 
reform.  He  was  a  Poor  Law  Guardian,  a  Co-operator,  a 
Church  Reformer.  He  followed  with  intense  interest  and 
practical  sympathy  the  development  of  Friendly  Societies 
and  Trades-Unions.  He  was  in  the  thick  of  every  move- 
ment to  improve  the  external  conditions  of  the  life  of  the 
poople — better  houses,  open  spaces,  free  libraries,  all  the 
now  familiar  objects  of  municipal  Socialism,  which  were 
then   still   in   their   firsL   struggle   for    public   recognition. 


xfi  REMINISCENCE 

Stirred  to  the  very  depths  of  his  soul  by  the  ideal  of  a 
nobler  civic  life,  he  lectured  to  great  popular  audiences,  first 
in  the  northern  cities,  then  in  London,  on  the  social  and 
economic  questions,  of  which  the  air  was  fulL  I  own  that 
I  was  often  aghast  in  those  days  at  the  multiplicity  of  his 
efforts  (which  were  never  superficial),  at  the  intense  strain 
of  his  life,  combining  as  it  did  a  constant  inward  wrestle 
with  the  deepest  problems  of  existence  and  an  outward 
activity,  as  teacher  and  citizen,  which  would  have  exhausted 
the  capacities  of  a  dozen  ordinary  men.  And  the  strain 
killed  him.  If  ever  a  man  wore  himself  out  in  the  service 
of  mankind,  it  was  Toynbee.  More  of  that  presently.  For 
the  moment,  I  only  ask  you  to  notice  the  bare  facts.  The 
kind  of  life  I  have  been  describing  occupied  the  years  1879, 
1880,  1881,  and  1882,  till  his  final  break-down  and  death  in 
the  spring  of  1883. 

There  is  only  one  other  circumstance  I  need  mention  in 
this  outline  of  his  history.  Early  in  his  life,  as  a  teacher  at 
Balliol,  Toynbee  married.  The  intense  activity  of  his  later 
years  would  probably  not  have  lasted  even  as  long  as  it  did 
if  he  had  not  had  the  support  of  a  happy  home  life — a  life 
of  the  greatest  simplicity,  but  of  perfect  refinement,  in  the 
companionship  of  a  wife  who  sympathised  deeply,  though 
calmly,  with  all  his  ideals,  and  who  was  as  devoid  as  he  was 
himself  of  mean  ambitions  or  petty  cares.  That  is  a  sub- 
ject too  delicate  to  be  dwelt  upon,  but  it  had  just  to  be 
mentioned,  if  this  brief  chronicle  was  not  to  be  incomplete 
in  an  essential  point. 

I  have  said  that  I  was  about  to  speak  of  Toynbee  as  I 
knew  him  myself.  What  follows  may  strike  you  as  egotis- 
tical, but  the  apparent  egotism  is  inevitable  if  my  account 
of  him  is  to  be  life-like.  Toynbee's  strength  lay  in  the 
extraordinary  impression  which  his  personality  made  upon 
those  with  whom  he  came  into  contact.  That  kind  of 
power  is  not  to  be  described  by  general  phrases.     It    can 


REIkirNnSCENCE  xii! 

only  be  realised  from  the  personal  testimony  of  those  who 
have  felt  it  If  I  tell  you  what  my  feelings  were  in  hia 
company,  it  is  not  because  I  attach  importance  to  them  as 
being  mine,  but  because  they  are  representative  of  similar 
experiences  on  the  part  of  many  others.  I  must  take  a 
typical  case,  and  I  naturally  take  the  case  with  which  I  am 
best  acquainted. 

My  friendship  with  Toynbee  must  have  begun  in  Feb- 
ruary or  March  1873,  during  my  first  term  at  Oxford,  which 
was  also  his  first.  Though  we  were  both  only  freshmen, 
I  knew  him  well  by  reputation  before  we  ever  met  It 
is  strange  how  rapidly  any  individuality,  or  even  the 
semblance  of  one,  makes  itself  felt  among  those  impression- 
able lads,  who  are  sensitive  to  the  exciting  atmosphere, 
caught  up  at  once  into  the  stirring  life,  of  an  intellectual 
centre  like  Oxford.  The  world  to  them  is  simply  brimming 
over  with  interest,  and  above  everything  else  they  are 
intensely  interested  in  one  another.  Before  a  few  weeks 
have  passed,  A's  prowess,  B's  scholarship,  Cs  wit,  D's 
bumptiousness  are  in  everybody's  mouth — the  common 
property  of  their  young  contemporaries.  New  Toynbee, 
although,  as  I  have  said,  he  had  not  at  first  a  large  circle 
of  friends,  enjoyed  from  the  outset,  and  always  retained,  a 
reputation  of  a  perfectly  unique  kind.  Youth,  as  we  all 
know,  is  the  age  of  hero-worship.  No  man,  in  after  life,  is 
ever  so  much  admired  as  the  schoolboy  or  the  under- 
graduate who  excels  in  any  of  the  qualities  which  young 
men  are  agreed  to  canonise.  But  it  was  not  so  much 
admiration  which  Toynbee's  personality  inspired  as  venera- 
tion. His  friends  spoke  of  him  with  affection,  certainly 
but  also  with  a  kind  of  awe,  which  had  its  comic  aspect  no 
doubt,  like  aU  our  youthful  intensities,  but  which  was  not 
without  real  significance.  When,  therefore,  at  the  mature 
age  of  nineteen,  I  first  came  across  him — my  senior  by 
about   eighteen   months — I   was  fully  prepared  to  meet  a 


xiy  REMINISCENCE 

personage.  My  attitude,  as  I  well  remember,  was  one  of 
intense  interest,  not  without  a  touch  of  defiance. 

But  in  his  actual  presence  any  such  antagonism  was  soon 
swallowed  up  in  love  and  respect.  I  fell  at  once  under  his 
spell,  and  have  always  remained  under  it.  No  man  has 
ever  had  for  me  the  same  fascination,  or  made  me  realise  as 
he  did  the  secret  of  prophetic  power — the  kind  of  influence 
exercised  in  all  ages  by  the  men  of  religious  and  moral 
inspiration.  Not  that  my  attitude  towards  him  was  an 
unquestioning  or  purely  receptive  attitude.  I  could  never 
bring  my  thoroughly  lay  mind  quite  into  step  with  his 
religious  idealism,  and  in  politics  I  was  certainly  far  more 
conservative  and  far  less  optimistic  than  he.  We  differed 
on  many  things  ;  we  disputed  ;  with  all  my  regard  for  him 
I  did  not  always  feel  that  I  had  the  worst  of  the  argument. 
But  I  looked  up  to  him  no  less  on  that  account.  Alike  in 
difference  and  in  argument,  in  seasons  of  physical  weakness, 
when  '  his  light  was  low '  and  his  speech  ineffectual,  no  less 
than  in  the  glowing  hours  when  he  was  most  eloquent  and 
most  convincing,  he  always  seemed  to  me  of  nobler  mould 
than  other  men.  His  intellectual  gifts  were  great,  rare  and 
striking,  but  they  were  not,  by  themselves,  commanding. 
What  was  commanding  was  the  whole  nature  of  the  man — 
his  purity,  his  truthfulness,  his  unrivalled  loftiness  of  souL 

And  here,  while  I  am  speaking  of  first  impressions,  I 
cannot  but  refer  to  the  remarkable  harmony  between  his 
physical,  his  mental,  and  his  moral  gifts.  He  had  a  noble 
and  striking  countenance,  combining  the  charm  of  boyish 
freshness  with  the  serene  dignity  of  a  thoughtful  manhood 
— a  face  of  almost  Greek  regularity  of  feature,  but  with  a 
height  of  brow  and  a  certain  touch  of  aggressive  force  about 
the  mouth,  which  distinguished  it  from  tlie  conventional 
Greek  type.  When  he  spoke,  and  especially  when  he  spoke 
with  fire,  the  directness  of  his  glance,  the  fine  carriage  of  his 
head,  fettered  attention.     His  language,  when  thus  moved, 


REMINISCENCE  xt 

was  of  extraordinary  eloquence — indeed  he  waa  the  most 
eloquent  man,  in  conversation,  that  I  have  ever  met.  Even 
on  the  ordinary  topics  of  every  day  he  always  spoke,  with 
perfect  simplicity,  it  is  true,  but  with  a  singular  purit}'  and 
refinement  of  expression.  His  avoidance  of  every  ugly  and 
vulgar  turn  of  phrase  was  effortless  and  instinctiva  He 
owed  this,  no  doubt,  in  some  measure  to  the  nature  of  his 
studies.  His  reading  had  not  been  very  extensive,  but  the 
great  masters  of  English  style,  and  especially  of  stately 
English,  had  been  his  constant  companions  from  childhood. 
The  Bible,  the  Elizabethan  poets,  MUton,  Gibbon,  Burke, 
Keats,  Shelley,  and,  among  novelists,  especially  Scott  and 
Thackeray — these  were  the  writera  with  whom  he  lived  on 
terms  of  no  ordinary  intimacy,  and  such  converse  uncon- 
sciously affected  his  own  utterance.  But,  after  all,  the 
chief  cause  of  this  purity  of  diction,  which  yet  was  never 
pedantic,  lay  in  the  purity  of  his  mind,  in  his  constant  pre- 
occupation with  great  themes,  his  absolute  aloofness  from 
all  that  waa  mean  and  paltry,  his  invariable  innate  elevation 
of  thought  and  aim.  It  has  been  said  of  a  great  writer  that 
he  touched  nothing  which  he  did  not  adorn.  It  might  be 
said  of  Toynbee  that  he  touched  nothing  which  he  did  not 
elevate.  Truly  astonishing  was  his  power  of  raising  the 
tone  of  any  discussion  in  which  h3  engaged.  Thus  every- 
thing about  him,  his  personal  appearance,  his  bearing,  his 
language,  his  moral  attitude,  combined  to  invest  him  with 
an  air  of  indescribable  distinction. 

Need  I  say  more  to  explain  the  extraordinary  influence, 
not  wide  at  first  but  deep,  which  Toynbee  exercised  upon 
the  thoughts,  ay,  and  upon  the  lives  of  those  of  his  feUow- 
undergraduates  who  came  to  know  him  intimately?  He 
became  naturally,  inevitably,  the  centre,  the  idol,  the  model 
of  his  little  world,  and  certainly  no  leader  of  ardent  youth 
was  ever  more  devotedly  worshipped  by  his  immediate 
followers.     Undergraduate  society  tends  to  divide  itself  into 


x*i  REMINISCENCE 

sets — each  circling  more  or  less  round  some  central  luminary. 
Of  the  sets  of  my  Oxford  days  there  was  one,  the  members 
of  which — and  the  present  Home  Secretary  ^  was  perhaps  its 
most  prominent  figure — were,  intellectually  at  least,  quite 
on  a  level  with  the  disciples  of  Toynbee.  But  I  doubt 
whether  there  was  any  set  that  could  for  a  moment  com- 
pare with  the  latter  in  moral  fervour,  and  certainly  there 
was  none  in  which  the  central  personage  was  so  inspiring 
or  80  dominant.  It  was  this  unique  position  of  Toynbee 
among  his  own  friends,  which  led  one  of  the  most  brilliant 
and  independent  of  his  and  my  contemporaries  to  dub  him, 
half  in  admiration  and  half  in  antagonism,  'the  Apostle 
Arnold.' 

No  doubt  the  Toynbee  group  had,  like  all  young  tran- 
scendentalists,  their  eccentricities — let  me  say  their  absurdi- 
ties. There  was  the  Ruskin  road-making  craze,  for  instance, 
and  there  was  another  very  funny  incident,  which  dwells 
in  my  recollection — a  crusade  against  the  system  of  per- 
quisites, which  was  regarded  as  very  demoralising  to  the 
college  servants.  The  only  result  of  this  was  that  the 
crusaders  lived  for  some  time  largely  on  dry  bread  and 
rather  stale  cold  meat,  to  the  great  but,  let  ua  hope,  not 
permanent  injury  of  their  digestions.  But  if  there  were 
some  fads,  there  were,  on  the  other  hand,  many  novel 
enterprises  of  a  serious  and  useful  kind,  destined  to  be 
fruitful,  especially  in  their  later  developments,  some  of 
which  I  see  around  me.  Of  this  nature  was  the  work 
undertaken  in  visiting  the  workhouses  and  in  charity 
organisation,  or  in  the  instruction  of  pupil-teachers  in 
various  branches  of  higher  education.  For  it  was  a  dis- 
tinguishing mark  of  those  who  came  under  Toynbee's 
influence,  that  they  were  deeply  impressed  with  their  indi- 
vidual duty  as  citizens,  and  filled  with  an  enthusiasm  for 
social  equality,  which  led  them  to  aim  at  bridging  the  gulf 

»  H.  H.  Asquith,  now  ri908)  Priire  Minister. 


REMINISCENCE  rvu 

between  the  educated  and  the  wage-earning  class.  In  this 
respect  he  and  they  were  pioneers — apt  to  be  forgotten 
afterwards,  like  all  pioneers — in  a  movement  which  is  one 
of  the  most  important  and  characteristic  of  the  present 
time. 

What  I  have  just  been  saying  applies  especially  to  the 
earlier  years  of  Arnold  Toynbee's  undergraduate  career.  As 
time  went  on  he  lived  less  exclusively  in  the  small  circle 
which  was  entirely  in  sympathy  with  his  own  ideals,  and 
made  friends  more  widely,  and  with  men  of  the  most  various 
types.  It  was  somewhat  remarkable  that,  with  all  his 
absorption  in  a  strongly-marked  line  of  thought  and  con- 
duct, he  yet  got  on  so  well  with  companions  of  totally 
different  characters  and  interests.  There  was  certainly  no 
undergraduate  of  my  generation  who  commanded  more 
general  respect  among  his  fellows.  At  the  same  time  he 
had  begun  to  form  some  very  strong  friendships  with  older 
men.  Conspicuous  among  these  was  the  late  Master  of 
BallioL  With  his  unfailing  eye  for  every  kind  of  excellence, 
Jowett  had  taken  note  of  Toynbee  almost  from  the  moment 
of  his  arrival  in  Oxford,  and  had  been  at  considerable  pains 
to  get  him  transferred  from  Pembroke  to  Balliol — not  with- 
out a  severe  brush  with  the  authorities  of  the  latter  college. 
And  having  once  brought  him  to  Balliol,  he  never  lost  sight 
of  hiuL  The  interest  which  he  had  felt  from  the  first 
gradually  ripened  into  cordial  friendship.  It  was  charming 
to  see  them  together.  Toynbee  never  suffered  from  the 
shyness  which  in  a  greater  or  less  degree  overcame  nearly 
all  Jowett's  pupils  in  the  presence  of  *  the  Master,'  and  re- 
duced many  of  them,  who  were  not  usually  bashful,  to 
almost  absolute  silence.  On  the  contrary,  he  was  always 
himself,  full  of  a  graceful  deference  to  the  older  man,  yet 
giving  free  vent  to  the  rush  of  his  ideas,  his  deepest  convic- 
tions in  philosophy  and  religion,  his  glowing  visions  of  a 
better  future  for     mankind.     And  Jow-jlt  would   always 


xviii  REMINISCENCE 

listen  kindly,  not  uncritically  indeed — for  when  was  he  ever 
uncritical  ? — but  without  the  least  inclination  to  repress  or 
discourage  these  outpourings  of  youthful  enthusiasm.  Per- 
haps in  his  heart  he  had  even  more  sympathy  with  them 
than  he  ever  allowed  himself  to  show.  Hostile  as  he  was 
to  all  exuberance,  intellectual  and  moral,  he  had  too  fine  a 
knowledge  of  human  nature  not  to  feel  the  difference 
between  Toynbee's  idealism,  so  genuine,  so  ineradicable  and 
so  fertile,  and  the  highflown  sentiments  of  the  common- 
place emotional  young  man.  In  dealing  with  Toynbee,  no 
unkindly  or  sarcastic  word  ever  fell  from  his  lips.  Indeed, 
as  time  went  on,  he  leant  on  him  in  many  respects,  and 
rested  his  hopes  on  him  in  forecasting  the  future  of  the 
college,  to  which  he  was  so  absolutely  devoted. 

Time  will  not  allow  me  to  dwell  on  all  Toynbee's  acquaint- 
ances with  older  men,  though  many  of  these  would  afford 
matter  of  some  interest.  But  there  are  two  names  which  I 
cannot  but  mention,  and  which  possess  for  all  old  Balliol 
men,  especially  in  their  conjunction  with  Jowett  and  Toyn- 
bee, a  peculiarly  mournful  interest.  I  refer  to  Thomas  Hill 
Green  ^  and  Eichard  Lewis  Nettleship.'  If  the  intimacy 
between  Jowett  and  Toynbee  might  at  first  excite  some 
surprise,  that  of  Green  and  Toynbee  was  the  most  natural 
thing  in  the  world.  For  between  these  two  men  there 
existed  a  strong  spiritual  affinity.  They  had  arrived,  by 
very  different  roads,  at^an  almost  identical  position  in 
religion,  philosophy,  and  social  questions,  and  if  there  was 
any  one  among  his  older  acquaintances  to  whom  Toynbee 
especially  looked  up  as  a  guide  and  master,  it  was  Green. 
With  Nettleship,  on  the  other  hand,  who,  though  his  senior, 
was  nearer  his  own  age,  his  relations  were  more  those  of 
ordinary  comradeship.  The  bond  of  union  in  this  case  was 
not  similarity  but  rather  dissimilarity.     Each  found  in  the 

*  Professor  of  Moral  Philosophy. 

*  Fellow  and  Tutor  of  Balliol  College. 


EEMnriSCENCE  ziz 

other  qualities  that  were  a  supplement  to  his  own.  Toynbee 
adruired  Nettleship's  scholarship,  the  subtlety  of  his  intellect, 
his  fine  faculty  of  speculation.  Nettleship  felt  the  need  of 
a  stimulus  such  as  Toynbee's  intensity  of  conviction  and 
missionary  zeal  supplied. 

"With  the  men  I  have  named,  and  with  others  of  similar 
position,  if  not  of  equal  stature,  Toynbee,  while  still  an 
undergraduate,  conversed  on  terms  of  easy  friendship.  Not 
a  few  of  his  ideas  must  have  seemed  to  them  crude  and 
immature.  His  want  of  experience  in  many  directions  was 
obvious.  Yet  I  doubt  whether  there  was  one  of  these 
older  friends  who  did  not  feel  that  Toynbee  gave  him  more 
than  he  could  return.  There  was  a  freshness,  a  glow,  an 
impetus,  about  his  thought,  which  more  than  made  up  for 
any  want  of  critical  judgment  or  of  knowledge  of  the  world 
— defects  natural  to  his  age  and  temperament,  which  he 
himself  acknowledged  with  a  ready  modesty. 

The  relations  in  which  he  thus  stood  to  leading  men  in 
the  University  explain  the  fact,  which  to  outsiders  seemed 
at  the  time  extraordinary,  that  he  had  no  sooner  taken  a 
pass  degree  than  he  was  made  a  lecturer  at  BallioL  This 
again  was  Jowett's  doing.  I  well  remember 'the  Master' 
ttflliug  me,  soon  after  I  had  left  Oxford,  how  anxious  he  was 
to  ensure  Toynbee's  permanent  presence  at  Balliol,  and  how 
highly  he  rated  the  influence  which  his  personality  was 
bound  to  exercise  upon  his  pupils,  and  upon  the  college. 
The  work,  with  which  he  was  immediately  intrusted,  was 
that  of  superintending  the  studies  of  the  men  who,  having 
passed  the  Indian  Civil  Service  Examination,  came  up  to 
Oxford  for  a  year  or  two  before  being  sent  to  the  East. 
The  idea  was  a  happy  one,  for  Toynbee's  knowledge  of 
history  and  economics,  and  his  high  conception  of  the 
greatness  of  our  Eastern  Empire,  and  of  the  responsi- 
bilities which  it  involved,  were  precisely  the  qualities 
best    calculated    to    inspire    his    pupils    with    the    right 


XX  REMINISCENCE 

attitude  towards  the  noble,  but  arduous  career  which  lay 
before  them. 

His  tutorial  supervision  extended  to  all  the  work  of  the 
Indian  students,  but  the  subject  on  which  he  lectured  to 
them,  and  to  others,  was  Political  Economy. 

This  may  seem  a  strange  choice  of  a  profession  for  a  man 
of  his  temperament  and  interests.  When  Toynbee  came  to 
Oxford,  his  mind  was  absorbed  in  thoughts  of  religion,  but 
the  later  years  of  his  life  were  devoted  to  the  study  and 
teaching  of  economics.  It  is  very  significant  of  the  change 
which  had  come  over  both  religion  and  economics,  since  the 
days  when  Newman  and  Eicardo  seemed  to  represent  the 
opposite  poles  of  human  thought,  that  this  transition  was,  in 
Toynbee's  case,  no  violent  mental  conversion,  but  a  natural 
and  almost  inevitable  development.  Profoundly  religious, 
indeed,  he  always  remained.  Incredulous  of  miracle  and  in- 
different to  dogma,  he  was  yet  intensely  conscious  of  the  all- 
pervading  presence  of  the  Divine — '  the  Eternal  not  ov/rselves 
that  makes  for  righteousness.'  That  *  here  have  we  no  con- 
tinuing city,'  that  *  the  things  which  are  seen  are  temporal, 
the  things  which  are  not  seen  are  eternal ' — such  utterances 
of  devotional  faith  were  to  him  expressions  of  the  deepest 
truths  of  existence.  The  world  of  sense  was  but  a  dream 
fabric.  The  only  true  reality  lay  in  the  world  of  ideas. 
Conscience  and  the  sense  of  duty,  man's  conception  of  an 
ideal  goodness,  his  aspirations  after  an  unattainable  perfec- 
tion— these  were  fundamental  facts  which  materialistic 
philosophy  could  neither  account  for  nor  explain  away. 
But  the  more  transcendental  his  faith,  the  greater  seemed  to 
him  the  necessity  of  a  life  of  active  usefulness.  Idealism 
such  as  his,  he  always  felt,  could  only  justify  its  existence 
by  energetic  devotion  to  the  good  of  mankind.  '  By  their 
fruits  ye  shall  know  them.'  Nothing  was  more  abhorrent 
to  him  than  an  apathetic  mysticism.  He  would  have 
repudiated  the  name  of  mystic.     His  faith,  however  tran- 


EEMIKISCENCE  xxl 

scendental,  was  a  rational  faith,  and  he  would  prove  it  by 
being  as  sober,  as  practical  and  as  effective  as  any  so-called 
Rationalist  or  Utilitarian.  He  would  not  be  behind  the 
Positivists  in  the  service  of  man,  because  he  embraced  that 
service  for  the  love  of  God. 

But  the  service  of  man  required  something  more  than 
zeal  and  devotion.  About  this  time,  at  the  end  of  the 
seventies,  there  were  signs  on  all  hands  of  a  great,  though 
gradual,  social  upheaval — new  claims  on  the  part  of  the 
toiling  multitude,  a  new  sense  of  responsibility  on  the  part 
of  the  well-to-do.  Toynbee's  sympathy  was  always  with 
the  aspirations  of  the  working-class.  He  was  on  fire  with 
the  idea  of  a  great  improvement  in  their  material  condition, 
not  indeed  as  an  end  in  itself,  but  as  opening  up  possibilities 
of  a  higher  life.  But  the  practical  common  sense,  which 
was  the  constant  corrective  of  his  generous  idealism,  com- 
pelled him  to  recognise  that  such  improvement  was  not  to 
be  attained  by  uninstructed  enthusiasm.  There  was  plenty 
of  energy  and  goodwill  already.  What  was  needed  was 
guidance,  and  guidance  could  only  come  from  those  who  had 
studied  the  laws  governing  the  production  and  distribution 
of  wealth,  and  knew  how,  and  how  far,  the  blind  forces  of 
competition  and  self-interest  might  be  utilised  by  corporate 
action  for  the  common  good.  It  was  from  this  point  of  view 
that  he  approached  the  study  of  Political  Economy.  For 
the  sake  of  religion  he  had  become  a  social  reformer;  for 
the  sake  of  social  reform  he  became  an  economist. 

It  would  take  me  too  far  to  attempt  to  discuss  the  con- 
clusions to  which  Toynbee  was  led  by  the  economic  studies 
pursued  with  so  much  industry  and  ardour.  He  never 
framed  for  himself  any  complete  system.  On  many  im- 
portant points,  as  is  evident  from  his  published  writings, 
he  was  still  only  feeling  his  way.  Yet  the  general  drift 
of  his  speculations  was  clear  enough.  In  the  region  of 
economic  theory,  as  in  the  practical  sphere  of  social  politics, 


xxl!  REMINISCENCE 

he  occupied  a  middle  position.  For,  despite  his  enthusiastic 
temperament,  his  intellect  was  calm  and  judicial  Fair- 
mindedness  was  instinctive  in  him,  and  so  was  rererence 
for  the  past.  Therefore  his  sympathy  with  the  new  ideas, 
which  no  man  of  his  time  did  more  to  diffuse,  never  tempted 
him  to  depreciate  the  old  economists.  Too  much  has  been 
made  of  a  single  unfortunate  phrase  of  his  about  Ricardo. 
As  a  matter  of  fact,  few  critics  have  had  a  juster  appreciation 
of  the  strong  points  of  Eicardo,  as  his  published  fragment 
on  the  subject  shows.  Neither  did  he  despair  of  economic 
science,  because  the  first  attempts  to  systematise  it  had 
broken  down.  The  so-called  laws  of  that  science,  dogmatic 
generalisations  based  upon  a  comparatively  limited  range  of 
observation,  might  be  imperfect  or  altogether  misleading. 
But  the  science  could  be  reconstructed — though  perhaps 
not  immediately — on  a  broader  foundation  of  historical 
inquiry  and  sociological  observation.  Even  the  admitted 
failures  of  the  older  economists  were  not  so  much  positive 
errors  as  partial  and  temporary  truths,  erroneously  repre- 
sented as  of  universal  validity.  To  be  fully  appreciated,  or 
fairly  judged,  they  must  be  examined  historically.  The 
facts  of  economic  history  and  the  theories  of  economists 
should  be  studied  side  by  side,  and  thus  studied,  they  would 
throw  light  on  each  other.  Adam  Smith,  Malthus,  Eicardo, 
should  be  interpreted  by  a  knowledge  of  the  industrial  and 
social  conditions  of  their  time.  This  was  an  essential  feature 
of  Toynbee's  projected  work  on  the  '  Industrial  Eevolution.' 
The  *  Industrial  Eevolution '  was  a  magnificent  conception, 
and  would,  if  Toynbee  had  lived  to  carry  it  out,  have  been  a 
great  book.  On  the  literary  side  of  his  economic  activity, 
as  distinct  from  his  practical  work,  this  was  undoubtedly 
the  enterprise  for  which  he  was  best  fitted.  He  was  never 
meant  to  write  a  treatise  on  political  economy,  like  Mill  or 
Marshall.  The  logical  exposition  of  a  system  was  not  his 
strong  point.     He  arrived,  by  a  sort  of  intuition,  at  great 


REMINISCENCE  xidii 

central  truths,  and  often  expressed  them  in  striking 
aphorisms.  Moreorer,  with  his  wide  command  of  economic 
facts,  he  could  illustrate  these  truths  in  an  impressive  way. 
But  conclusions,  however  apparently  just,  supported  by 
illustrations,  however  brilliant,  are  not  enough  to  carry  con- 
viction. As  a  matter  of  logic,  it  is  the  intervening  stages, 
the  media  axiomata,  which  are  all-important.  Now  Toynbee 
was  probably  himself  not  conscious  of  the  processes  by 
which  his  mind  had  arrived  at  the  main  ideas  which  he 
grasped  so  clearly,  and  expressed  so  forcibly.  It  is  certain 
that  he  was  never  able  to  explain  his  logical  method  to 
others. 

But,  on  the  other  hand,  he  had  simply  all  the  qualities 
required  for  writing  a  great  economic  history.  He  had  his- 
torical imagination — the  power  of  vividly  realising  the  con- 
ditions of  the  past,  and  of  sympathising  with  the  thought 
and  aims  of  bygone  generations.  Yet  this  vividness  and 
rapidity  of  imagination  never  carried  him  away,  or  caused 
him  to  take  the  smallest  liberty  with  facts.  His  accuracy 
was  unfailing.  If  he  referred  to  a  figure,  he  was  right  to  a 
unit.  If  he  quoted  an  author,  he  never  altered  or  misplaced 
the  least  important  word.  In  describing  any  incident  of  the 
past,  he  was  careful  to  be  correct  in  the  minutest  detail. 
And  he  had  one  other  great  and  rare  gift  in  a  historian — 
the  gift  of  picking  out,  from  a  mass  of  materials,  the  one 
picturesque  fact  which  made  the  dry  bones  live,  and  re- 
vealed, like  a  searchlight,  the  outlines  of  a  past  condition  of 
society.  Those  of  my  hearers  who  are  familiar  with  his 
public  addresses  wUl  easily  understand  what  I  mean.  It  is 
not  the  theory  or  the  exhortations  which,  to  my  mind,  con- 
stitute the  chief  interest  of  those  addresses.  It  is  the 
graphic  pictures,  scattered  up  and  down  them,  of  the  life  of 
different  classes  of  workmen  at  different  times.  Yet  in  this 
as  in  other  respects  the  addresses  are  but  faint  echoes  of 
his  conversation,  but  imperfect  indications  of  what  he  might 


xxiv  REMINISCENCE 

have  accomplished  had  he  lived  to  weave  these  luminous 
threads  into  a  completed  story. 

Thinking  of  his  capacity  for  such  work,  now  for  ever  lost 
to  the  world,  I  know  that  some  of  his  friends  have  deplored 
the  diversion  of  his  energies  from  the  study  and  the  lecture- 
room  to  the  exhausting  labours  of  Committees  and  Boards 
and  Congresses,  and  to  the  excitement  of  the  platform.  Yet 
in  some  respects  he  was  admirably  fitted  to  play  an  active 
part  in  social  movements.  His  ready  sympathy  with  men 
of  different  classes,  his  charm  of  voice  and  manner,  his 
great  practical  common  sense  in  practical  questions,  his 
firmness  of  character,  all  marked  him  out  as  a  leader  of  men. 
But  his  delicate  frame  and  sensitive  nerves  were  ill-suited 
to  the  rough  business  of  the  world.  His  physical  strength, 
but  his  physical  strength  only,  was  unequal  to  the  struggle, 
and,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  there  is  no  doubt  he  shortened  his 
life  by  attempting  too  much  in  the  field  of  social  politics, 
or  at  any  rate  by  taking  too  much  to  heart  whatever  he  did 
attempt.  But  in  his  own  conception  and  scheme  of  Kfe  this 
combination  of  social  activity  with  study  and  reflection  was 
essential.  The  great  danger  of  the  democratic  upheaval  of 
the  time  appeared  to  him  to  be  the  estrangement  of  the  men 
of  thought  from  the  active  leaders  of  the  people.  His  ideal 
was  to  be  a  student  indeed,  but  a  student  in  touch  with 
practical  affairs,  standing  as  an  impartial,  public-spirited 
mediator  between  the  conflicting  interests  and  prejudices 
of  class  and  class. 

And  I  am  not  sure  that  he  was  wrong.  Had  he  followed 
the  other  course,  had  he  confined  himself  to  literary  work 
and  an  academic  life,  he  might  himself  have  accomplished 
more,  but  would  he  have  inspired  so  many  or  originated  so 
much  ?  To  his  own  immediate  friends,  to  whom  the  man 
himself  was  so  much  more  than  all  his  doctrines  and  aU  his 
schemes,  the  loss  has  been,  of  course,  irreparable.  But  for 
the  world  the  permanent  value  and  importance  of  Arnold 


REMINISCENCE  xxr 

Toynbee  lie  in  the  impulse  and  direction  which  he  gave,  at 
a  most  critical  moment,  to  the  newborn  interest  of  the 
educated  in  social  questions,  and  to  the  aspirations  of  men 
of  all  classes  after  social  reform.  And  this  impulse  and 
direction  would  not  have  been  given,  if  he  had  restricted 
himself  to  the  role  of  a  student.  It  is  true  that  much  of 
what  we  owe  to  him  will  never  be  associated  with  his  name. 
But  that,  after  all,  is  a  small  matter.  The  world  has  reaped 
the  benefit.  There  are  many  men  now  active  in  public 
life,  and  some  whose  best  work  is  probably  yet  to  come,  who 
are  simply  working  out  ideas  inspired  by  him. 

It  is  no  small  matter  to  have,  even  for  a  brief  space,  such 
a  hold  on  Oxford,  and  especially  on  young  Oxford,  as  he 
had  during  his  later  years.  The  old  Universitiea  are  no 
longer  sleepy  institutions  outside  the  broad  current  of  the 
national  life.  I  do  not  go  so  far  as  to  say  that  what  Oxford 
thinks  to-day  England  will  think  to-morrow ;  but  certainly 
any  new  movement  of  thought  at  the  Universities  in  these 
days  rapidly  finds  an  echo  in  the  press  and  in  public 
opinion.  Now  the  years  which  I  spent  at  Oxford,  and 
those  immediately  succeeding  them,  were  marked  by  a  very 
striking  change  in  the  social  and  political  philosophy  of  the 
place,  a  change  which  has  subsequently  reproduced  itself  on 
the  larger  stage  of  the  world.  When  I  went  up  the  Laisser- 
fairt  theory  still  held  the  field.  All  the  recognised  authori- 
ties were  'orthodox'  economists  of  the  old  school.  But 
within  ten  years  the  few  men  who  still  held  the  old 
doctrines  in  their  extreme  rigidity  had  come  to  be  regarded 
as  curiosities. 

In  this  remarkable  change  of  opinion,  which  restored 
freedom  of  thought  to  economic  speculation  and  gave  a  new 
impulse  to  philanthropy,  Toynbee  took,  as  far  as  his  own 
University  was  concerned,  a  leading  part.  The  effect  which 
he  may  have  produced,  by  his  direct  action,  in  the  outside 
world,  I  am  less  competent  to  estimate.     Large  audiences 


xxyf  REMINISCENCE 

of  working  men  listened  with  rapt  attention  to  his  addresses, 
strange  mixtures  as  they  were  of  dry  economic  discussion 
with  fervent  appeals  to  the  higher  instincts  of  bis  audience. 
For  my  own  part,  I  never  quite  shared  the  admiration  which 
many  of  his  friends  felt  for  these  efforts.  It  is  true  that  he 
was  an  impressive  figure  on  the  platform.  He  had  dignity, 
perfect  command  of  expression,  and  a  powerful  and  melodious 
voice.  Moreover,  on  the  platform  as  everywhere  else,  he 
carried  that  weight  which  transparent  sincerity  and  convic- 
tion never  fail  to  give.  But  there  was  something  in  the 
necessary  constraint  of  oratory,  something  perhaps  also  in 
the  mere  physical  exertion,  which  prevented  his  attaining 
that  height  of  spontaneous  eloquence  which  he  constantly 
touched  in  conversation.  It  may  be,  however,  that  I  was 
unfortunate,  for  I  never  attended  any  of  his  meetings  except 
in  London,  where  he  was  not  so  happy  or  successful  as  in 
the  Northern  or  Midland  cities.  But  at  the  best  the  effect 
of  those  Jay  sermons,  however  great  at  the  time,  can,  as  far 
as  the  body  of  his  hearers  went,  only  have  been  ephemeral. 
More  important  were  the  friendships  which  sprang  out  of 
them  with  many  leading  men,  both  masters  and  workmen, 
in  the  great  industrial  centres.  The  extent  of  his  influence 
on  those  with  whom  he  thus  became  associated  it  is  at  this 
distance  impossible  to  gauge  with  any  accuracy.  All  I 
know  is  that,  as  time  goes  on,  the  best  thoughts  of  earnest 
and  impartial  men,  who  are  in  touch  with  the  problems  of 
our  complex  industrial  life,  seem  to  flow  more  and  more  in 
the  channels  of  the  social  philosophy  of  which  Toynbee  was 
so  eloquent  an  exponent. 

Was  he  a  Socialist  ?  That  is  a  terribly  big  question  to 
ask  at  the  end  of  a  long  and,  I  fear,  wearying  discourse. 
Some  day  I  may  perhaps  attempt  to  answer  it  with  greater 
fulness  than  is  possible  to-night.  But  in  that  case  I  shall 
first  have  to  define  Socialism — that  most  vague  and  mislead- 
ing of  all  the  catchwords  of  current  controversy.     If  by 


REMINISCENCE  xxrii 

Socialism  you  mean  Collectivism,  the  abolition  of  individual 
property ;  or  if  you  mean  Social  Democracy,  the  paternal 
government  of  an  omnipotent  all-absorbing  State,  then 
Toynbee  was  certainly  no  Socialist.  But,  on  the  other 
hand,  he  was  convinced  of  the  necessity  of  social  reorganisa- 
tion. The  Industrial  Eevolution  had  shattered  the  old 
social  system.  It  had  left  the  industrial  life  of  this  and 
of  the  other  great  civilised  countries  of  the  West  in  a 
state  of  profound  disorder.  And  society  left  to  itself  would 
not  right  itself.  Salvation  could  only  come  through  de- 
liberate corporate  effort,  inspired  by  moral  ideals,  though 
guided  by  the  scientific  study  of  economic  laws.  The 
central  doctrine  of  Individualism,  the  doctrine,  as  he  tersely 
put  it,  that  'man's  self-love  is  God's  providence,'  was  in 
his  judgment  simply  untrue.  The  pursuit  of  individual 
self-interest  would  never  evolve  order  out  of  existing  chaos. 
But  on  the  other  hand  there  was  no  simple  plan  and  no 
single  agency  by  which  such  order  could  be  built  up.  All 
panaceas  were  delusions,  all  sweeping  remedies  absurd. 
Time,  patience,  the  co-operation  of  many  powers,  the  com- 
bination of  many  methods,  were  necessary  for  the  solution 
of  a  problem  of  such  infinite  complexity.  He  hoped  much 
from  the  action  of  a  democratic  state,  controlling  the  ex- 
cesses of  competition,  and  laying  down  normal  conditions 
of  labour  and  exchange,  subject  to  which  the  spirit  of 
individual  enterprise  should  still  have  free  play.  He  hoped 
even  more  from  the  action  of  municipalities,  ensuring  to 
all  their  citizens  the  conditions  of  healthy  life — air,  light, 
water,  decent  dwellings  —  slowly  acquiring  great  public 
estates,  and  multiplying  gieat  public  institutions,  the 
common  heritage  of  rich  and  poor.  He  hoped  most  of  aU 
perhaps  from  voluntary  associations  of  free  men.  He  recog- 
nised the  immense  service  which  Trades-Unions,  Friendly 
Societies,  the  Co-operative  Movement  had  already  rendered 
in  checking  the  tendency  to  social  disintegration.    But  his 


xxviii  REMINISOENCE 

mind  was  full  of  schemes  by  which  one  and  all  of  them 
might  be  made  more  potent  instruments,  not  only  for  pro- 
moting the  material  welfare,  but  for  aiding  the  moral 
development  of  their  members.  For  the  end  of  all  social 
organisation,  of  all  material  improvement,  was  the  higher 
life  of  the  individual.  In  this  spiritual  ideal  lay  the  pro- 
found difference  between  his  point  of  view  and  the  material- 
istic Socialism  which  threatens  to  work  such  havoc  on  the 
Continent,  and  is  not  without  its  adherents  among  ourselves. 
With  Socialism  of  that  type  Toynbee  had  a  double  quanel. 
He  charged  it  with  having  no  higher  ideal  than  the  diffusion 
of  physical  comfort,  and  with  seeking  to  attain  that  object 
by  merely  mechanical  means.  In  his  view  nothing  that 
tended  to  discourage  self-reliance  or  to  weaken  character 
could  possibly  lead  even  to  material  well-being ;  and  if  it 
could,  the  object  would  be  dearly  bought  at  the  price.^ 

^  There  is  an  interesting  fact  which  I  may  meution  here,  and  Tvhich 
Bhowa  how  far  Toynbee  was  prepared  to  go  in  the  direction  of  Socialiim, 
yet  without  abandoning  what  was  best  in  the  teaching  of  the  old  econo- 
mists. During  the  closing  months  of  his  life  he  was  much  occupied  with 
the  question  of  Old  Age  Pensions,  and  the  duty  of  the  State  in  relation 
to  it.  Almost  the  last  time  I  saw  him  he  expounded  to  me,  in  much 
detail,  a  scheme  for  supplementing  the  Pension  Funds  of  Friendly 
Societies  by  State  contributions,  which  greatly  resembled,  alike  in  its 
general  outline  and  in  its  underlying  principle,  the  plan  lately  shadowed 
forth  by  Mr.  Chamberlain.  On  the  one  hand  Toynbee  had  a  great  dread 
of  anything  that  could  weaken  thrift  or  undermine  the  independence  of 
the  Friendly  Societies,  the  services  of  which  in  encouraging  self-help, 
and  the  habit  of  social  co-operation,  he  considered  no  less  valuable  than 
the  material  benefits  which  they  have  bestowed  on  the  working-class. 
On  the  other  hand,  be  was  deeply  impressed  with  the  difficulty,  and  in 
some  cases  impossibility,  of  an  ordinary  wage-earner,  exposed  to  the 
normal  accidents  of  illness  and  want  of  employment,  saving  a  sufficient 
sum  out  of  his  earnings  to  provide  him  with  even  the  most  modest  com- 
petence in  old  age.  His  idea  was  that,  when  men  had  really  done  their 
utmost  to  provide  against  old  age  by  their  own  thrift  and  self-denial,  the 
community  was  bound  to  ensure  the  provision  being  adequate,  and  that 
not  as  a  matter  of  charity,  but  of  right.  And  he  believed  he  saw  his  way 
to  accomplish  this  end,  without  weakening  individual  effort,  by  State 
subsidies  to  the  Friendly  Societies.     Whatever  may  be  thought  of  the 


REMINISCENCE 

Such,  in  briefest  outline,  was  his  social  philosophy.  It 
is  clearly  impossible  to  label  it  with  any  epithet,  to  cram  it 
into  the  strait-waistcoat  of  any  single  formula.  He  died  too 
soon,  in  any  case,  to  construct  a  system.  But  if  he  had 
lived  a  hundred  years  he  would  still  have  remained  an 
eclectic  He  was  the  apostle,  not  of  a  scheme,  but  of  a 
spirit  No  wonder  that  he  was  the  despair  of  all  extrem- 
ists. Here  was  a  man,  whose  glowing  fervour,  whose 
absolute  unselfishness,  whose  whole-hearted  devotion  to 
the  cause  of  social  progress  surpassed  that  of  any  fanatic  of 
them  alL  Yet  he  was  absolutely  devoid  of  fanaticism.  I 
have  sometimes  come  across  the  idea,  among  those  who 
knew  him  only  by  hearsay,  that  he  was  a  noble  but  un- 
practical visionary,  of  fervent  soul  but  unbalanced  intellect. 
No  conception  of  him  could  be  more  ludicrously  wrong. 
While  health  lasted,  no  man  had  a  calmer  judgment,  or 
imposed  the  dictates  of  that  judgment  with  more  indomit- 
able will  upon  his  own  ardent  temper.  There  is  some 
tmth,  I  fear,  in  the  charge  frequently  made  against  social 
reformers,  that  the  greatest  energy  is  shown  by  the  men  of 
the  narrowest  views.  Enthusiasm  is  often  blind.  "Wisdom 
and  experience  are  apt  to  blunt  the  edge  of  action.  But 
Toynbee  had  the  moral  genius  which  could  wed  enthusiasm 
to  sobriety,  and  unite  the  temper  of  the  philosopher  with 
the  zeal  of  the  missionary.  No  bigot,  possessed  with  some 
one  scheme  for  the  regeneration  of  mankind,  was  ever  more 
enthusiastic  for  his  panacea  than  Toynbee  could  be  for  the 
most  humble  and  unambitious  reform  which  seemed  to  him 
to  make  to  the  right  end,  and  to  be  inspired  by  the  true 
spirit  of  sane  but  strenuous  progress.  And  that  is  the  last, 
though  not  the  least  of  the  lessons  which  I  shall  attempt  to 

idea,  it  is  very  characteristic,  not  only  of  hii  economic  eclecticism,  but  of 
his  position  as  a  pioneer  of  new  social  moTements.  Toynbee  was  full  of 
the  subject  of  Old  Age  Pensions  at  leaat  six  or  eight  years  before  it  hsA 
become  a  matter  of  gensral  discossion  even  anioi.g  experts. 


XXI  REMINISCENCE 

draw  from  the  example  of  his  noble  and  devoted  life.  It  is 
a  lesson  which,  however  wo  may  differ  from  him  in  opinion 
upon  this  point  or  upon  that,  I  think  w©  can  all  agree  to 
lay  to  heart. 

Now  I  have  said  enough,  and  it  only  remains  to  thank 
you  for  the  sympathy  you  have  shown  me  in  the  perform- 
ance of  what  has  been  a  labour  of  love  certainly,  but  also  a 
delicate,  and  in  some  respects  a  painful  task.  May  I,  with- 
out impertinence,  conclude  this  address  by  the  expression 
of  a  hope  ?  It  is  the  hope  that  these  walls,  which  bear  Toyn- 
bee's  name,  may  ever  be  instinct  with  his  spirit ;  a  meeting- 
place  for  men  of  various  education  and  antecedents  ;  a  home 
of  eager  speculation,  ever  learning  from  experience,  and 
earnest  controversy,  untinged  with  bitterness  or  party  pre- 
judice; the  headquarters  of  a  band  of  'unresting  and 
unhastening  labourers,'  not  in  one,  but  in  many  fields  of 
social  endeavour,  united  by  a  commoD  faith  in  the  efi&cacy 
of  such  endeavour  to  elevate  their  own  and  others'  lives. 


CONTENTS 


nam 


Prefatokt  Notb,  ....»▼ 

R£Mi>-ISC£>«C£  BT  Lo&D  MiLKBB,  .  .  .  .  ix 

THE  INDUSTBIAL  REVOLUTION 

I.  IXTRODUCTOBT. 

Diyision  of  the  subject — Advantages  of  combining  the  stnfJy  of 
History  and  Political  Economy — The  Deductive  Method — 
The  Historical  Method — Importance  of  a  discussion  of 
Method — Laws  and  precepts  relative — The  Social  Problem* 
of  the  Present  to  be  borne  in  mind  in  studying  the  history 
of  tlie  Past,     ...•..•! 

IL   ESOLAKT)  IM  1760— P0PULATI0» 

Numbers  of  population  difficult  to  determine  —  Finlaison'a 
estimate — The  distribution  of  population — The  growth  of 
the  great  towns — Rural  and  urban  population — The  occupa- 
tions of  the  people,     ......  7 

UI.   EyOLAXD  1»  1760 — AORICULTURK 

Proportion  of  cultivated  land  to  waste — Large  amount  of  common 
land— Beneficial  effect  of  enclosures  upon  agriculture — Com- 
parative progressiveuess  of  different  districts — Improvements 
in  cultivation  and  in  the  breed  of  live  stock — Slowness  of 
agricultural  development  between  1700  and  1760,     .  .         13 

rV.    EnQLAXD  IV  1760 — MANtJTACTURBS  AND  TraDK 

Qn-'at  importance  of  the  Woollen  Manufacture — Its  introduction 
into  England — Its  chief  centres  :  1.  In  the  eastern  counties. 
2.  In  Wnts,  Gloucester,  and  Somerset.  3.  In  Yorkshire — 
The  Iron,  Cotton,  Hardware,  and  Hosiery  Trades — Tendency 
to   concentration — State  of  the  mecUaoiciJ  arts — Imperfect 

xui 


xxxii  CONTENTS 


rAQ* 


divbion  of  labour — Means  of  communication — Organisation 
of  industry — Simple  system  of  exchange — Growth  of  Foreign 
Trade  and  its  "effects,  .....        22 

V.  England  in  1760 — Thb  Decay  of  the  Yeomanry 

The  historical  method  not  always  consenratiye — Changes  com- 
monly attributed  to  natural  law  are  sometimes  shown  by  it 
to  be  due  to  human  injustice — The  decay  of  the  Yeomanry  a 
case  in  point — The  position  of  the  Yeomanry  in  the  seven-  jf^ 
teentb.  century — Their  want  of  political  initiative — Effect  of  '' 
the  Revolution  upon  them — The  aristocracy  and  the  moneyed 
class  absorb  the  land — Pressure  put  upon  small  owners  to 
sell — The  custom  of  settlement  and  primogeniture — The 
effect  of  enclosures  upon  small  properties,      .  .  .34 

VI.  England  in  1760 — The  Condition  of  the  WAGE-EARirKT.8 
The  agricultural  labourer— Improvement  in  his  condition  since 
the  beginning  of  the  century — Comparison  of  bis  position  in 
1750  and  1850 — Contrast  between  North  and  South — In- 
equality of  wages  and  its  cause — The  position  of  the 
artisans — Great  rise  in  their  wages  since  1760 — Certain  dis- 
advantages of  their  condition  now,  as  compared  with  tliat 
existing  then,  ......        45 

VII.  The  Mercantile  Systkm  and  Adam  Smith 

Change  in  the  spirit  of  commercial  policy — The  mediaeval  idea  of 
the  State — The  regulation  of  internal  trade  and  industry — 
Restrictions  upon  the  movement  of  labour — The  law  of 
apprentices — Wages  and  prices  fixed  by  authority — The  regu- 
lation of  Foreign  Trade — Chartered  companies — The  Mercan- 
tile System  and  Protection — Evils  of  that  system — The 
struggle  of  interests — Injustice  to  Ireland  and  the  Colonies — 
Characteristics  of  the  Wealth  of  Nations — Its  arrangement — 
Adam  Smith's  cosmopolitanism  and  belief  in  self-interest,     .        60  j 

VIII.  The  Chief  Features  of  the  Revolutioh 
Growth  of  Economic  Science— Competition— Its  uses  and  abuses 

— Tlie  symptoms  of  the  Industrial  Revolution — Rapid  growth 
of  population — Its  relative  density  in  North  and  South — The 
agrarian  revolution — Enclosures — Consolidation  of  farms  and 


CONTENTS  xxiiii 


TAQM 


agricultural  improvementB — The  revolution  in  manufactures 
— The  factory  system — Expansion  of  trade — Eiae  in  rents — 
Change  in  the  relative  position  of  classes,      .  .  .64 

TX.  Thx  Growth  or  Paufsbisii 

Political  Economy  and  the  instinct  of  benevolence — The  History 
of  the  Poor  Laws — Pauperism  in  the  sixteenth  century— The 
Poor  Law  of  1601  and  its  modifications — Slow  growth  of 
pauperism  during  the  seventeenth  and  eighteenth  centuries 
— Its  rapid  increase  at  the  end  of  the  latter — The  causes  of 
this  development  of  pauperism  :  consolidation  of  farms,  en- 
closures, rise  of  prices,  introduction  of  machinery — Remedies 
which  might  have  been  applied — Yiciooa  principle  of  the 
old  Poor  Law,  ......        73 

X.  BIalthos  akd  thk  Law  or  Pofulatiov 

lialthuB  and  Godwin — Malthus's  two  propoaitions — The  Law  of 
Diminishing  Returns  "certainly  true — The  Law  of  Population 
not  universally  true — Henry  George  on  Malthus — The  causes 
of  the  growth  of  population  in  rural  districts  and  in  towns 
in  the  Eighteenth  Century — Maithus's  remedies  :  Abolition 
of  the  Poor  Law,  Moral  Restraints — Actual  remedies  since 
his  time  :  Reform  of  the  Poor  Law,  Emigration,  Importation 
of  Food,  Moral  restraint  in  the  middle  and  artisan  classes — 
Artificial  checks  on  population  considered — The  problem  not 
a  purely  economic  one,  .  .  .  .  .86 

XI.  The  Waob-Fdkd  T3kobt 

Malthus  originated  the  Wage- fund  theory — Mill's  statement  of  it 
— Its  bearing  on  Trades-Unions — Its  application  to  wages  at 
a  given  time — Its  fallacies — Origin  of  the  theory — Difficulty 
of  forming  a  complete  theory  of  wages —  Wages  in  a  given 
country  depend  upon  the  total  amount  of  produce,  and  the 
division  of  that  produce — Why  wages  are  higher  in  America 
than  in  England — Influence  of  Protection  and  of  Commercial 
*  rings '  on  wages — Comparison  of  wages  in  England  and  on 
the  Continent  —  High  wages  in  England  mainly  due  to 
efficiency  of  labour — Limits  to  a  rise  in  wages  in  any  parti- 
cular trade — Possible  effects  of  a  general  rise  in  wages — 
Explanation  of  the  fall  in  wages  between  1790  and  1820,      .        99 

9 


xxxiv  CONTENTS 

XII.    RrCARDO  AND  THB  GrOWTH  OF  RbKT. 

PAOI 

Influence  of  Eicardo  on  economic  method — His  public  life — His 
relation  to  Bentham  and  James  Mill — Ricardo  supreme  in 
English  Economics  from  1817  to  1848 — His  Law  of  Indus- 
trial Progress — His  influence  on  finance  and  on  general  legis- 
lation— The  effect  of  the  idea  of  natural  law  in  his  treatise — 
The  Socialists  disciples  of  Ricardo — Assumptions  on  which  ^ 
he  grounds  his  theory  of  the  constant  rise  in  rents — His  cor- 
rect analysis  of  the  cause  of  Rent — Rent  not  the  cause,  but 
the  result  of  price — Explanation  of  the  rise  in  rents  between 
1790  and  1830 — Rise  of  rents  in  towns — Proposal  to  appro- 
priate rent  to  the  State,         .....      109 

XIII.  Two  Theories  of  Economic  PRoaRESS 

Distribution  of  Wealth  the  problem  of  the    present   time —  . 

Ricardo's  theory  that  wages  will  remain   stationary  and  | 

interest  fall — Facts  disprove  both  propositions — Henry 
Gteorge's  theory  of  economic  progress  likewise  contradicted 
by  facts,  ......       120 

XIV.  The  Future  of  the  Working  Olasseb 

Causes  of  improyemeut  in  the  condition  of  the  working  classes 
since  1846 — Free  trade — Steady  price  of  bread  and  manu- 
factured produce — Steadiness  of  wages  and  regularity  of 
employment  —  Factory  legislation  —  Trades-Unions  —  Co- 
operation— Will  the  same  causes  continue  to  act  in  the  future!  j,,^ 
— Moral  improvement  among  the  working  classes — Better  re-  \  ^ 
lations  between  workmen  and  employers — Evil  as  well  as  good 
in  the  close  personal  relationships  of  former  times — Trades- 
Unions  have  improved  the  relations  of  the  two  classes — Can 
the  workmen  really  secure  material  independence  ? — Various 
■olutions  of  the  problem — Industrial  partnership— Com- 
munism— Modified  Socialism,            .           .            .           .127 


RICARDO  AND  THE  OLD  POLITICAL  ECONOMY 

I 

The  change  that  has  come  over  Political  Economy— Ricardo  re- 
sponsible for  the  form  of  that  Science — The  causes  of  his 
great  influence — The  economic  assumptions  of  his  treatise— 


CONTENTS 

Ricardo  ignorant  of  the  nature  of  hia  own  method — Malthos's 
protest — Limitationa  of  Bicardo's  doctrine  recogniaed  by 
Mill  and  Senior — Observation  discouraged  by  the  DeductiTe 
Method — The  effect  of  the  Labonr  Movement  on  Economics 
— Modifications  of  XBe'^ience  l)y  recent  writers — The  new 
method  of  economic  investigation, 

II 

The  philosophic  assumptions  of  Ricardo — They  are  derived  from 
Adam  Smith — The  worship  of  individual  liberty — It  involves 
freedom  of  competition  and  removal  of  industrial  restrictions 
— The  flaw  in  this  theory— It  is  confirmed  by  the  doctriae  of 
the  identity  of  individual  and  social  interests — Criticism  of 
this  doctrine — The  idea  of  invariable  law — True  nature  of 
economic  laws — Laws  and  Precepts — The  great  charge 
brought  against  Political  Economy — Its  truths  and  its 
fidsehood,        ....... 


PAoa 


137 


\\ 


148 


POPULAR  ADDRESSES 

1.  Wages  and  Natubal  Law, 
i.  Industrt  and  Dkmocract, 
3.  Ark  Radicals  Socialists? 


Thb  Education  of  CJo-operators,         .  ,  , 

The  Ideal  Relation  of  Cutjrch  aitd  State,  . 

Leaflets  fob  Working  Men,  No.  1.— The  Church  and  the 
People,  ...... 

Notes  and  Jottings,       .           .                      ,  , 

Index,       


167 
192 
219 

239 
249 

2C9 
861 
277 


J-1 


THE    INDUSTRIAL   REVOLUTION 


INTRODUCTOHY 

Division  of  the  sabject — Advantages  of  combining  the  study  of  History 
and  Political  Economy — The  Deductive  Method — The  Historical 
Method — Importance  of  a  discussion  of  Method — Laws  and  precepts 
relative — The  Social  Problems  of  the  Present  to  be  borne  in  mind  in 
studying  the  history  of  the  Past. 

The  subject  of  these  lectures  is  the  Industrial  and  Agrarian 
devolution  at  the  end  of  the  eighteenth  and  beginning  of 
the  nineteenth  centuries.  The  course  is  divided  into  three 
parts.  The  first  deals  with  Adam  Smith  and  the  England 
of  his  time.  It  will  describe  England  on  the  eve  of  the 
Industrial  Revolution,  and  the  system  of  regulation  and 
protection  of  industry  as  it  existed  in  1760.  It  will  give 
also  an  outline  of  Adam  Smith's  book,  its  aims  and  char- 
acter, and  especially  his  theory  of  free  trade.  The  second 
part  will  group  itself  round  the  work  of  Malthus,  who  dealt 
"not  so  much  with  the  causes  of  wealth  as  with  the  causes  of 
poverty,  with  the  distribution  of  wealth  rather  than  with 
its  production.  It  will  describe  England  in  the  midst  of 
the  Industrial  Kevolutiou,  and  will  inquire  into  the  pro- 
blem of  pauperism  and  the  subjects  connected  with  it.  The 
third  part  will  be  associated  with  the  name  of  Ricardo,  and 
will  deal  with  England  at  the  time  of  the  Peace.     It  wiU 

^  The  fragment  of  economic  history  here  printed  under  the  title  of  •  The 
Industrial  Revolution,'  a  title  that  Toynbee  had  himself  selected  for  a 
book,  of  which  the  following  pages  contain  some  of  the  raw  material,  con- 
sists of  notes  of  lectures  delivered  by  Toynbee  in  the  hall  of  Balliol 
College,  Oxford,  between  October  18S1  and  Midsummer  1882. 

A 


2  THE  INDUSTRIAL  REVOLUTION 

discuss  the  doctrine  of  rent  and  wages  together  with  certain 
theories  of  economic  progress,  and  will  cover  the  questions  of 
currency,  so  much  agitated  at  that  period,  and  the  history  of 
the  commercial  and  financial  changes  which  followed  the 
Peace} 

I  have  chosen  the  subject  because  it  was  in  this  period 
that  modern  Political  Economy  took  its  rise.  It  has  been  a 
weakness  of  the  science,  as  pursued  in  England,  that  it  has 
been  too  much  dissociated  from  History.  Adam  Smith  and 
Malthus,  indeed,  had  historical  minds ;  but  the  form  of 
modern  text-books  is  due  to  Ricardo,  whose  mind  was 
entirely  unhistorical.  Yet  there  is  a  double  advantage  in 
combining  the  two  studies.  In  the  first  place  Political 
Economy  is  better  understood  by  this  means.  Abstract 
propositions  are  seen  in  a  new  light  when  studied  in  rela- 
tion to  the  facts  which  were  before  the  writer  at  the  time 
when  he  formulated  them.  So  regarded  they  are  at  once 
more  vivid  and  less  likely  to  mislead.  Ricardo  becomes 
painfully  interesting  when  we  read  the  history  of  his  time. 
And,  in  the  second  place.  History  also  is  better  understood 
when  studied  in  connection  with  Political  Economy;  for 
the  latter  not  only  teaches  us  in  reading  History  to  look 
out  for  the  right  kind  of  facts,  but  enables  us  to  explain 
many  phenomena  like  those  attending  the  introduction  of 
enclosures  and  machinery,  or  the  effects  of  different  systems 
of  currency,  which  without  its  assistance  would  remain  un- 
intelligible. The  careful  deductive  reasoning,  too,  which 
Political  Economy  teaches  is  of  great  importance  to  the 
historian,  and  the  habits  of  mind  acquired  from  it  are  even 
more  valuable  than  the  knowledge  of  principles  which 
it  gives,  especially  to  students  of  facts,  who  might  other- 
wise be  overwhelmed  by  the  mass  of  their  materials. 

Of  late  years,  however,  there  has  been  a  steady  sustained 

'  The  sequel,  as  readers  will  observe,  realises  very  imperfectly  the  plan 
here  sketched  out  by  Toynbee,  and  especially  fails  to  deal  with  those 
portions  of  the  scheme  which  are  described  in  the  words  printed  in  italics. 
This  is  due  partly  to  the  fact  that  Toynbee  himself  found  his  subject,  as 
he  first  conceived  it,  too  large  to  be  dealt  with  in  a  single  course  of 
lectures,  and  partly  to  the  imperfection  of  even  the  best  notes  taken  by 
his  hearers,  especially  on  the  more  difficult  and  abstruse,  and  in  parti- 
cular the  purely  financial  and  monetary,  topics  discussed  by  him. — Ep. 


INTRODUCTORY  S 

attack  upon  the  abstract  Deductive  Method  of  Political 
Economy  pursued  by  Ricardo  and  Mill,  and  an  attempt  to 
set  up  historical  investigation  in  its  place  as  the  only  true 
method  of  economic  inquiry.  This  attack  rests  on  a  mis- 
conception of  the  function  of  the  Deductive  Method.  The 
best  exposition  of  the  place  of  Abstract  Political  Economy 
is  to  be  found  in  Bagehot's  Fconomic  Studies.  Bagehot 
points  out  that  this  abstract  science  holds  good  only  upon 
certain  assumptions,  but  though  the  assumptions  are  often 
not  entirely  correct,  the  results  may  yet  be  approximately 
true.  Thus  the  economists,  firstly,  regard  only  one  part  of 
man's  nature,  and  treat  him  simply  as  a  money-making 
animal;  secondly,  they  disregard  the  influence  of  custom, 
and  only  take  account  of  competition.  Certain  laws  are 
laid  down  under  these  assumptions ;  as,  for  instance,  that 
the  rate  of  wages  always  tends  to  an  equality,  the  perma- 
nent difference  obtaining  in  various  employments  being 
only  sufficient  to  balance  the  favourable  or  unfavourable 
circumstances  attending  each  of  them — a  law  which  is  only 
true  after  a  certain  stage  of  civilisation  and  in  so  far  as  the 
acquisition  of  wealth  is  the  sole  object  of  men.  Such  hypo- 
thetical laws,  though  leading  only  to  rough  conclusions,  are 
yet  useful  in  giving  us  a  point  of  view  from  which  to  observe 
and  indicate  the  existence  of  strong  overmastering  tendencies. 
Advocates  of  the  Historical  Method,  like  Mr.  Clifife  Leslie, 
therefore,  go  too  far  when  they  condemn  the  Deductive 
Method  as  radically  false.  There  is  no  real  opposition  be- 
tween the  two.  The  apparent  opposition  is  due  to  a  wrong 
use  of  deduction  ;  to  a  neglect  on  the  part  of  those  employ- 
ing it  to  examine  closely  their  assumptions  and  to  bring 
their  conclusions  to  the  test  of  fact ;  to  arguments  based  on 
premises  which  are  not  only  not  verified  but  absolutely 
untrue  (as  in  the  wage-fund  theory);  and  generally  to  the 
failure  to  combine  induction  with  deduction.  But  this 
misuse  of  the  method  does  not  imply  any  radical  faultiness 
in  it.  The  right  method  in  any  particular  case  must  be 
largely  determined  by  the  nature  of  the  problem.  Neither 
is  it  fair  to  make  abstract  Political  Economy  responsible  for 
the  confusion  in  many  minds  between  its  laws  and  the 
precepts  which  are  based  on  them.     It  is  a  pure  science, 


4  THE  INDUSTRIAL  REVOLUTION 

and  its  end  is  knowledge.  But  the  Political  Economy  of 
the  press  and  the  platform  is  a  practical  science,  that  is,  a 
body  of  rules  and  maxims  to  guide  conduct.  Journalists 
and  members  of  Parliament  confound  the  laws  of  the  pure 
science  with  the  maxims  of  the  practical  science.  It  was 
thus  that  Mr.  Gladstone  in  the  Land  Act  controversy  of 
1881  was  constantly  accused  of  violating  the  laws  of 
Political  Economy.  It  was  impossible  for  Mr,  Gladstone  to 
do  any  such  thing.  The  laws  of  Political  Economy  can  no 
more  be  violated  than  those  of  physical  science.  What  the 
journalists  meant  was  that  he  had  departed  from  a  great 
economic  precept — that  which  recommends  freedom  of 
contract. 

The  Historical  Method  pursues  a  different  line  of  investi- 
gation. It  examines  the  actual  causes  of  economic  develop- 
ment and  considers  the  influence  of  institutions,  such  as  the 
mediaeval  guilds,  our  present  land-laws,  or  the  political  con- 
stitution of  any  given  country,  in  determining  the  distribu- 
tion of  wealth.  Without  the  aid  of  the  Historical  Method 
it  would  be  impossible,  for  instance,  to  understand  why  one- 
half  of  the  land  in  the  United  Kingdom  is  owned  by  2512 
persons.^ 

I  And  not  only  does  it  investigate  the  stages  of  economic 
evelopment  in  a  given  country,  but  it  compares  them  with 
those  which  have  obtained  in  other  countries  and  times,  and 
seeks  by  such  comparison  to  discover  laws  of  universal 
'application.  Take,  as  an  instance  of  the  discoveries  of  this 
'Comparative  Political  Economy,  the  tendency  which  Sir  II. 
Maine  and  M.  de  Laveleye  have  pointed  out  to  pass  from 
collective  to  individual  ownership  of  land.  This  is  a  law 
which  is  true  of  nearly  all  civilised  countries.  We  must  be 
careful,  however,  not  to  generalise  too  hastily  in  these 
matters.  A  clever  pamphlet  lately  published  in  Dublin 
appeals  to  another  generalisation  of  Sir  H.  Maine — '  Maine's 
Law,'  as  it  is  denominated — in  condemnation  of  recent  legis- 

*  The  owners  of  properties  over  3000  acres,  and  yielding  a  rental  of  at 

least  £3000  are  2512 ;  they  own  in 

England  and  Wales,  14,287,373  acres  out  of  34,344,226 
Scotland,         .        .  14,118,164  „  18,9S6,G94 

Ireland,  .        .     9,120,689  „  20,316,129 

— Bateman'a  Oreat  Landowners. 


INTRODUCTORY  5 

latioiL  '  Sir  H.  Maine/  says  the  writer,  *  in  his  Ancient  Law 
has  remarked  that  the  movement  of  all  progressive 
societies  has  hitherto  been  a  movement  from  status  to  con- 
tract. The  demand  of  this  agitation  is  that  Ireland  should 
be  legislatively  declared  a  retrograde  society,  and  that  the 
social  movement  should  be  from  contract  back  again  to 
status.'  ^  '  Is  it  expedient,'  asks  another, '  to  reform  our  laws 
so  as  to  assimilate  them  to  those  in  use  among  nations  of  an 
inferior  social  development  ? ' '  A  deeper  study  of  existing 
civilisation  in  England,  and  of  other  civilisations,  past  and 
present,  would  have  shown  that  the  step  was  not  a  retro- 
grade one, — that  whilst  the  sphere  of  contract  has  been 
widening,  it  has  been  also  narrowing,  and  that  such  a  con- 
dition of  things  as  we  see  in  Ireland  has  never  existed  any- 
where else  without  deep  social  misery,  outrage,  and  disturb- 
ance. Custom  or  law  or  public  opinion,  or  all  three,  have 
intervened  in  the  past,  and  will  intervene  in  the  future.  It 
is  true  that  there  is  a  movement  from  status  to  contract ; 
yet  if  we  look  closely,  we  find  that  the  State  has  over  and 
over  again  had  to  interfere  to  restrict  the  power  of  indi- 
viduals in  which  this  movement  results.  The  real  course 
of  development  has  been  first  from  status  to  contract,  then 
from  contract  to  a  new  kind  of  status  determined  by  the 
law,  —  or,  in  other  words,  from  unregulated  to  regulated 
contract. 

The  Historical  Method  is  also  of  value  because  it  makes 
us  see  where  economic  laws  and  precepts  are  relative.' 
The  old  economists  were  wont  to  speak  as  if  these  laws  and 
precepts  were  universal.  Free  trade,  for  instance,  is  a 
sound  policy,  no  doubt,  for  England,  and  for  all  nations  at 
a  certain  stage  of  development ;  but  it  is  open  to  any  one 
to  say  that  free  trade  is  only  good  under  certain  conditions. 

^  Confiscation  or  Contract  ?  (Dublin,  1880),  p.  23. 

*  Richey,  The  Irish  Land-Latcs,  p.  108. 

*  Comte  was  oue  of  the  first  to  recogtiise  this  trath,  and  it  w»b  from 
him  that  Mill  learned  that  '  the  deductive  science  of  society  will  not  lay 
down  a  theorem  asserting  in  an  universal  manner  the  effect  of  any  cause, 
but  will  rather  teach  us  how  to  frame  the  proper  theorem  for  the  circum- 
•tances  of  any  given  case.  It  will  not  give  the  laws  of  society  in  general, 
but  the  means  of  determining  the  phenomena  of  any  given  society  from 
the  particular  element*  or  data  of  that  Bociet  j.'— System  of  Logic,  bk.  tI. 

C    9,   I  ii. 


6  THE  INDUSTEIAL  REVOLUTION 

No  English  economist,  it  is  true,  has  dared  to  say  this. 
Mr.  Jevons,  to  take  an  example,  would  admit  restrictions 
only  for  considerations  of  the  most  paramount  importance.* 
But  it  is  an  unjustifiable  prejudgment  of  the  question  to 
lay  down  that  this  policy  must  be  wise  at  all  times  and 
places.  I  do  not  mean  to  assert,  however,  that  there  are 
not  some  laws  which  are  universally  true,  such  as  the  law 
of  diminishing  returns. 

This  discussion  about  method  may  seem  barren,  but  it  is 
not  really  so.  Take  such  a  question  as  the  functions  of 
the  State.  Mr.  Senior  spent  much  time  in  attempting  to 
discover  an  universal  formula  which  should  define  their 
proper  limit  all  the  world  over.  Such  an  attempt  must  be 
abandoned.  The  proper  limits  of  Government  interference 
are  relative  to  the  nature  of  each  particular  state  and  the 
stage  of  its  civilisation.  It  is  a  matter  of  great  importance 
at  the  present  day  for  us  to  discover  what  these  limits  are 
in  our  own  case,  for  administration  bids  fair  to  claim  a 
large  share  of  our  attention  in  the  future.  It  would  be 
well  if,  in  studying  the  past,^  we  could  always  bear  in  mind 
the  problems  of  the  present,  and  go  to  that  past  to  seek 
large  views  of  what  is  of  lasting  importance  to  the  human 
race.  It  is  an  old  complaint  that  histories  leave  out  of 
sight  those  vital  questions  which  are  connected  with  the 
condition  of  the  people.  The  French  Revolution  has  indeed 
profoundly  modified  our  views  of  history,  but  much  still 
remains  to  be  done  in  that  direction.  If  I  could  persuade 
some  of  those  present  to  study  Economic  History,  to  follow 
out  the  impulse  originally  given  by  Malthus  to  the  study 
of  the  history  of  the  mass  of  the  people,  I  should  be  indeed 
glad.  Party  historians  go  to  the  past  for  party  purposes ; 
they  seek  to  read  into  the  past  the  controversies  of  the 
present.  You  must  pursue  facts  for  their  own  sake,  but 
penetrated  with  a  vivid  sense  of  the  problems  of 
your  own  time.  This  is  not  a  principle  of  perversion,  but 
a  principle  of  selection.     You  must  have  some  principle  of 

^  As,  for  instance,  to  check  the  exhaustion  of  our  coal  supplies. — The 
Goal  Qtiestion,  247-354. 

*  Toynbee  was  addressing  an  audience  principally  composed  of  men 
studying  for  the  History  Schools. — Ed. 


ENGLAND  IN  1760:  POPULATION  7 

selection,  and  you  could  not  have  a  better  one  than  to  pay 
special  attention  to  the  history  of  the  social  problems  which 
are  agitating  the  world  now,  for  you  may  be  sure  that  they 
are  problems  not  of  temporary  but  of  lasting  importance. 


II 

ENGLAND  IN  17G0 

POPULATION 

Numbera  of  population  difficult  to  detennino — Fiulaison's  estimate — 
The  distribution  of  population — The  growth  of  the  great  towns 
— Rural  and  urban  population — The  occupationa  of  the  people. 

Previously  to  1760  the  old  industrial  system  obtained 
in  England ;  none  of  the  great  mechanical  inventions  had 
been  introduced;  the  agrarian  changes  were  still  in  the 
future.  It  is  this  industrial  England  which  we  have  to 
contrast  with  the  industrial  England  of  to-day.  For 
determining  the  population  of  the  time  we  have  no  accurate 
materials.  There  are  no  official  returns  before  1801.  A 
census  had  been  proposed  in  1753,  but  rfejycwd  as*"'sub- 
versive  of  the  last  remains  of  English  liberty.'*  In  this 
absence  of  trustworthy  data  all  sorts  of  wild  estimates 
were  formed.  During  the  American  War  a  great  contro- 
versy  raged  on  this  subject.  Dr.  Price,  an  advocate  of  the 
Sinking  Fund,  maintained  that  population  had  in  the 
interv«2  between  1690  and  1777  declined  from  6,596,075  to 

'  Mr.  Thornton,  member  for  the  City  of  York,  said  :  'I  did  not  believe 
that  there  was  any  set  of  men,  or  indeed  any  individu:>l  of  the  human 
species,  so  presumptuous  and  so  abandoned  aa  to  make  the  proposal  we 
have  just  heard  ...  I  hold  this  project  to  be  totally  subversive  of  the 
last  remains  of  English  liberty.  .  .  .  The  new  bill  will  direct  the  imposi- 
tion of  new  taxes,  and  indeed  the  addition  of  a  very  few  words  will 
make  it  the  most  effective  engine  of  rapacity  and  oppression  which  was 
ever  used  against  an  injured  people.  .  .  .  Moreover,  an  annual  register 
of  our  people  will  acquaint  our  enemies  abroad  with  our  weakness.' — 
Vide  Preface  to  Preliminary  Census  Returns,  1881,  p.  1.  The  Bill  was 
carried  in  the  Commons  by  large  majorities,  but  thrown  out  on  second 
rvadiug  by  the  Loi  Js. 


8  THE  INDUSTRIAL  REVOLUTION 

4,763,670.1  On  the  other  hand,  Mr.  Hewlett,  Vicar  of 
Dunmow,  in  Essex,  estimated  the  population  in  1780  at 
8,691,000,2  and  Arthur  Young,  in  1770,  at  8,500,000  on 
the  lowest  estimate.^  These,  however,  are  the  extremes  in 
either  direction.  The  computations  now  most  generally 
accepted  are  those  made  by  Mr.  Finlaison  (Actuary  to  the 
National  Debt  Office),  and  published  in  the  Preface  to  the 
Census  Returns  of  1831.  These  are  based  on  an  examina- 
tion of  the  registers  of  baptisms  and  burials  of  the  eigh- 
teenth century.  But  the  data  are  deficient  in  three  respects : 
because  the  number  of  people  existing  at  the  date  when  the 
computation  begins  is  a  matter  of  conjecture;  because  in 
some  parishes  there  were  no  registers ;  and  because  the 
registration,  being  voluntary,  was  incomplete.*  Mr.  Finlaison, 
however,  is  stated  to  have  subjected  his  materials  to  '  every 
test  suggested  by  the  present  comparatively  advanced  state 
of  physical  and  statistical  science.' ' 

Now  according  to  Mr.  Finlaison,  the  population  of 
England  and  Wales  was,  in  1700,  5,134,516,  in  1750, 
6,039,684,  an  increase  of  not  quite  a  million,  or  between 
17  and  18  per  cent,  in  the  first  half  of  the  century.^  In 
1801  the  population  of  England  and  Wales  was  9,187,176, 
showing  an  increase  of  three  millions,  or  more  than  52  per 
cent,  in  the  second  half.^  The  difference  in  the  rate  of 
increase  is  significant  of  the  great  contrast  presented  by  the 

'  An  Essay  on  the  Population  of  England  J rom  the  Revolution  to  the 
Present  Time,  by  Richard  Price,  D.D.,  F.R.S.  (London,  1780). 

^  An  Examination  of  Dr.  Price's  Essay  on  the  Population  of  England 
and  Wales,  by  Rev.  John  Hewlett  (1781).  See  M'UulIoch's  Literature 
of  Politico}  Economy,  p.  258. 

*  Northern  Tour,  iv.  419  (2nd  edition,  1771). 

*  Porter's  Progress  oj  the  Nation,  p.  6  (2nd  edition,  1847). 
»  Ibid.,  p.  13. 

'  Slightly  diflferent  calculations  are  made  by  Mr  Rickman  {Introdurtory 
Remarks  to  Census  Returns  0/1841,  pp.  36,  37),  and  Mr.  Marshall  in  his 
Geographical  and  Statistic  Display  {IS33},  p.  22.  The  former  gives  the 
population  in  1700  at  6,045,008,  and  in  1750  at  6,517,035,  being  an 
increase  of  nearly  8  per  cent.  ;  the  latter  gives  5,475,000  and  6,467,000 
for  the  two  dates,  or  an  increase  of  18"1  per  cent.  Gregory  King,  in  1696, 
estimates,  from  '  the  assessments  on  marriages,  births,  and  burials,'  the 
population  at  5,500,000. 

'  Mr.  Rickman  gives  the  rate  of  increase  at  41  per  cent.,  and  Mr. 
Marshall  al  ■i.'2  per  cent. 


ENGLAND  IN  1760:  POPULATION  9 

two  periods.      In    the    former,    England,   though   rapidly  ^ 
increasing  in  wealth   owin"  to  her   exteDded"  commercTal 
relations,  yet  retained  her  old  industrial  organisation;  the 
latter  is  the  age  of  transition  to  the  modern  industrial  system^ 
and  to  improved  methods  of  agriculture, 

The  next  point  to  consider  is  the  distribution  of  popula- 
tion. A  great  difference  will  be  found  here  between  the 
8tat«  of  things  at  the  beginning  of  the  eighteenth  century, 
or  in  Adam  Smith's  time,  and  that  prevailing  now.  Every 
one  remembers  Macaulay's  famous  description  in  the  begin- 
ning of  his  history  of  the  desolate  condition  of  the  northern 
counties.  His  picture  is  borne  out  by  Defoe,  who,  in  his 
Tour  through  the  Whole  Island  (1725),  remarks,  'the  country 
south  of  Trent  is  by  far  the  largest,  as  well  as  the  richest 
and  most  populous,'  though  the  great  cities  were  rivalled  by 
those  of  the  north.^  If  we  consider  as  the  counties  north 
of  Trent  Northumberland,  Durham,  Yorkshire,  Cumber- 
land, Westmoreland,  Lancashire,  Cheshire,  Derbyshire, 
Nottinghamsiiire,  and  Staffordshire  (about  one-third  of  the 
total  area  of  England),  we  shall  find  on  examination  that 
in  17^  they  contained  about  oneJourth  of  the  population,'  - 
and  in~175d  les^than  one-third,' while  in  1881,  they  con- 
tained more  than  two-fifths;*  or,  taking  only  the  six 
northern  counties,  we  find  that  in  1700  their  population 
was  under  one-fifth  of  that  of  all  England,  in  1750  it  was 
about  one-fifth,  in  1881  it  was  all  but  one-third.' 

In  1700  the  most  thickly  peopled  counties  (excluding 
the  metropolitan  counties  of  Middlesex  and  Surrey)  were 
Gloucestershire,  Somerset,  and  "Wilts,  the  manufacturing 
districts  of  the  west ;  Worcestershire  and  Northamptonshire, 
the  seats  of  the  Midland  manufactures ;  and  the  agriculture 
counties  of  Herts  and  Bucks — all  of  them  being  south  of 
the  Trent.  Between  1700  and  1750  the  greatest  increase 
of  population  took  place  in  the  following  counties : — 

'  iii.  57  {7th  edition,  17G9). 

*  1,285,300  oat  of  5,108,500. 

*  1,740,000  oat  of  6,017,700.  These  are  Marshall's  estimates ;  they 
differ  a  little  from  those  of  Mr.  Finlaison. 

*  10,438,705  out  of  24,608,391. 

*  In  1700,  902,100  oat  of  5,101,500;  in  1750, 1,261,500  out  of  6,017,700; 
in  1881,  7,906,760  out  of  24,608,391. 


10 


THE  INDUSTRIAL  REVOLUTION 


Lancashire  increased  from 

Warwickshire  „ 
The  West  Riding 

of  Yorkshire  „ 

Durham  „ 

Staffordshire  „ 

Gloucestershire  „ 


166,200 
96,000 

}236,700 

95,000 
117,200 
155,200 


to 


297,400, 
140,000, 

361,500, 

135,000, 
160,000, 
207,800, 


78  per  cent. 

45        „ 

52        „ 

41  „ 
36  „ 
34 


while  Cornwall,  Kent,  Berks,  Herts,  Worcestershire,  Salop, 
Cheshire,  Northumberland,  Cumberland,  and  Westmoreland 
each  increased  upwards  of  20  per  cent.^ 

The  change  in  the  distribution  of  population  between  the 
beginning  of  the  eighteenth  century  and  Adam  Smith's  time, 
and  again  between  his  time  and  our  own,  may  be  further 
illustrated  by  the  following  table.  The  twelve  most  densely 
populated   counties   and  their  density  to  the  square  mile 


were  m — 

1700 

Middler-ex 

.     .  2221 

Surrey    . 

.     .     207 

Gloucester, 

.     123 

Northamptt 

n  .     121 

Somerset, 

.     119 

Worcester, 

.     119 

Herts,     . 

.     115 

Wilts,    .    . 

.     113 

Bucks,    . 

.     110 

Rutland, 

.     110 

Warwick, 

.     109 

Oxford,  . 

.     107 

1750 


1881 


Middlesox, .    . 

2283 

Middlesex,    . 

10,387 

Surrey,    .    .    , 

276 

Surrey,     .     . 

1,919 

Warwick,   .     . 

159 

Lancashire,    . 

1,813 

Gloucester,.    . 

157 

Durham,  .    . 

891 

Lancashire, .     . 

156 

Stafford,   .     . 

862 

Worcester, .     . 

148 

Warwick, 

825 

Herts,     .     .     . 

141 

West  Riding, 

815 

Stafford,      .    . 

140 

Kent,   . 

600 

Durham,     .     . 

138 

Cheshire, .     . 

582 

Somerset,    .    . 

137 

Worcester,     . 

615 

West  Riding,  . 

135 

Nottingham, 

475 

Berks,    .    .    . 

131 

Gloucester,    . 

455 

The  most  suggestive  fact  in  the  period  between  1700  and 
1750  is  the  great  increase  in  the  Lancashire  and  the  West 
Riding,  the  seats  of  the  cotton  and  coarse  woollen  manufac- 
tures. StafiFordshire  and  Warwickshire,  with  their  potteries 
and  hardware,  had  also  largely  grown.  So  had  the  two 
northern  counties  of  Durham  and  Northumberland,  with 
their  coalfields.  The  West  of  England  woollen  districts  of 
Somerset,  and  Wilts,  on  the  other  hand,  though  they  had 
grown  also,  showed  nothing  like  so  great  an  increase.  The 
population  of  the  eastern  counties  Norfolk,  Suffolk,  and  Essex, 

"  J.  Marshall :  A  Oeographical  and  Statistical  Display,  etc.  (1833),  p. 
12 ;  printed  also  at  the  end  of  his  Analysis  of  Returns  made  to  Parlia- 
ment, 1835. 


ENGLAND  IN  1760:  POPULATION 


11 


had  increased  very  little ;  though  Norwich  was  still  a  large 
manufacturing  town,  and  there  were  many  smaller  towns 
engaged  in  the  woollen  trade  scattered  throughout  Norfolk 
and  Suffolk.  Among  the  few  agricultural  counties  which 
showed  a  decided  increase  during  this  period  was  Kent,  the 
best  farmed  county  in  England  at  that  time. 

If  we  turn  to  the  principal  towns  we  shall  find  in  many 
of  them  an  extraordinarj'  growth  between  the  end  of  the 
seventeenth  century  and  the  time  of  Adam  Smith.  "While 
the  population  of  Norwich  had  only  increased,  according  to 
the  best  authority,  by  about  one-third,  and  that  of 
Worcester  by  one-half,  the  population  of  Sheffield  had 
increased  seven-fold,  that  of  Liverpool  ten-fold,  of  Man- 
chester five-fold,  of  Birmingham  seven -fold,  of  Bristol  more 
than  three-fold.  The  latter  was  still  the  second  city  in  the 
kingdom.  Newcastle  (including  Gateshead  and  North  and 
South  Shields)  nu.ubered  40,000  people. 

The  following  are  the  estimates  of  population  for  1685, 
1760,  and  1881  in  twelve  great  provincial  towns: — 


1685. 

c  1760. 

r  40,000 « 

1 

1881.« 

Liverpool, 

4,000  » 

■  30-35,000  <> 
.34,000  • 

} 

552,425 

Manchester, 

6,000  » 

/  30,000 « 
140-45,000* 

\ 
J 

393,676 

Binningham, 

4,000  • 

/  28,000  »> 
\  30,000  <> 

J 

400,757 

Leeds, 

7,000* 

309,126 

Sheffield, 

4,000  » 

/  30,000  « 
■[SO.OOO* 

} 

284,410 

Bristol, 

29,000* 

100,000  •» 

206,503 

Nottingham, 

8,000" 

17,000' 

111,631 

Norwich, 

28,000* 

f  40,000" 
■  60,000  <» 

■" 

87,843 

Hull, 

J  20,000"= 
124,000* 

'. 

161,519 

York, 

10,000* 

59,596 

Exeter, 

10,000* 

47,093 

Worcester, 

8,000* 

11-12,000« 

40,421 

•  Macaolay's  History  of  England,  c.  3.  *>  Defoe's  Tour  (1725). 

"  Arthur  Young  (1769).       "^  Macpherson's  Annah  of  Commerce  (1760). 

•  Levi's  HLitory  of  British  Commerce.        '  Eden'a  State  o/thePoor{l'i97). 
«  The  retarna  for  1S81  are  those  of  the  parliamentar}'  district. 


12  THE  INDUSTRIAL  REVOLUTION 

Another  point  to  be  considered  is  the  relation  of  rural  to 
urban  population.  According  to  Gregory  King,  writing  in 
1696,  London  contained  530,000  inhabitants,  other  cities 
and  market-towns,  870,000,  while  villages  and  hamlets 
numbered  4,100,000.^  Arthur  Young,  seventy  years  later, 
calculated  that  London  contained  one-sixth  of  the  whole 
population,^  and  remarked  that,  'in  flourishing  countries/ 
as  England,  *  the  half  of  a  nation  is  found  in  towns.' ' 
Both  estimates  are  very  unreliable,  apart  from  the  fact  that 
both,  and  especially  that  of  Arthur  Young,  overestimate 
the  total  number  of  the  population,  but  the  contrast  be- 
tween them  justly  indicates  the  tendency  of  towns  even 
then  to  grow  out  of  proportion  to  the  rural  districts.  That 
disproportion  has,  of  course  become,  even  more  marked  since 
Arthur  Young's  day.  In  1881  the  total  urban  population 
was  17,285,026,  or  66*6  per  cent.,  while  the  rural  was 
8,683,026,  or  33-3  per  cent.* 

The  only  estimates  of  occupations  with  which  I  am 
acquainted  are  again  those  of  Gregory  King  in  1696,  and 
Arthur  Young  in  1769.  They  are  too  vague,  and  too  incon- 
sistent with  one  another,  to  be  relied  on,  but  I  give  them 
for  what  they  are  worth.  According  to  the  former,  free- 
holders and  their  families  numbered  940,000,  farmers  and 
tlieir  families,  750,000,  labouring  people  and  out  servants, 
1,275,  00,  cottagers  and  paupers,  1,300,000;  making  a  total 
agricultural  population  of  4,265,000,  against  only  240,000 
artisans  and  handicraftsmen.^  Arthur  Young  estimates  the 
number  of  different  classes  as  follows : — 


^  Natural  and  Political  Observations  upon  the  State  and  Condition  q/ 
England,  by  Gregory  King,  Lancashire  Herald,  1696  (printed  in  Chal- 
mers's Estimate,  1804),  p.  36. 

2  Southern  Tour,  p.  326  (2nd  edition,  1769). 

'  Travels  in  France  (2nd  edition),  i.  480.  He  contrasts  it  with  France, 
where  'less  than  one-fourth  of  the  people  inhabits  towns.'  His  esti- 
mate is,  however,  in  all  probability  exaggerated. 

*  Census  Returns.     See  Preliminary  Report,  p.  vii. 

»  Eden's  State  of  the  Poor,  i.  228,  and  Chalmers's  Estimate  (1804), 
p.  203. 


ENGLAND  IN  1760:  AGRICULTURE  13 

Farmers  (whether  freeholders  or  leaseholders),  their 
servants  and  labourers,  .  .  2,800,000 
Mauufacturers  of  all  kinds,  .  .  3,000,000 
Landlords  and  their  dependants,  fisher- 
men and  miners,  .  .  .  800,000 
Persons  engaged  in  commerce,  .  .  700,000 
Non- industrious  poor,  .  .  .  500,000 
Clergy  and  lawyers,  .  .  .  200,000 
Civil  servants,  army  and  navy,              ,  500,000 


Total  .  .  .    8,500,0001 

But  the  number  set  down  to  manufactures  here  is  probably 
as  much  too  high,  in  proportion  to  the  total  population,  as 
the  total  itself  is  in  excess  of  the  fact. 


Ill 

ENGLAND  IN  1760 

AGRICULTURE 

Proportion  of  coltiratcd  land  to  waste — Large  smount  of  common  land 
— Beneficial  effect  of  enclosures  upon  agriculture — Ckjmparative  pro- 
gresaivenesa  of  dififerent  districts — Improvements  in  cultivation  and 
in  the  breed  of  live  stock — Slowness  of  agricultural  development 
between  1700  and  1760. 

In  describing  the  agriculture  of  the  time  the  first  point  of 
importance  is  the  proportion  of  cultivated  land  to  waste. 
Gregory  King,  who  rather  overestimated  the  total  acreage 
of  England  and  Wales,  put  the  arable  land  at  11,000,000 
acres,  pasture  and  meadow  at  10,000,000,  houses,  gardens, 
orchards,  etc.,  at  1,000,000,  being  a  total  of  22,000,000  acres 
of  cultivated  land,  or  nearly  three-fifths  of  the  whole 
country.*  A  land-agent  in  1727  believed  one-half  of  the 
country  to  be  waste.*  Arthur  Young,  writing  fifty  years 
later,  puts  the  cultivated  area  at  a  much  higher  figure. 
Estimating  the  total  acreage  of  England  alone  at  34,000,000 

^  Northern  Tour,  iv.  417-19  ;  cf.  also  364. 

»  P.  52  (ed.  Chalmers,  1804). 

*  Edward  Laurence,  Duty  of  a  Stevoard  to  hit  Lord,     t-ondon,  1727. 


14  THE  INDUSTRIAL  REVOLUTION 

acres,  he  considered  that  32,000,000  of  these  were  in  arable 
and  pasture,  in  equal  proportions.^ 

One  or  other  of  the  two  first-mentioned  estimates  is  cer- 
tainly nearer  the  truth  than  the  last.  The  exact  proportion 
is,  however,  impossible  to  determine. 

There  is  no  respect  in  which  the  agricultural  England  of 
to-day  differs  more  from  that  of  the  period  which  we  are 
considering,  than  in  the  greatly  reduced  amount  of  common 
land.  The  enclosure  of  commons  had  been  going  on  for 
centuries  before  1760,  but  with  nothing  like  the  rapidity 
with  which  it  has  been  going  on  since.  It  is  known  that 
334,974  acres  were  enclosed  between  1710  and  1760,  while 
nearly  7,000,000  were  enclosed  between  1760  and  1843.* 
At  the  beginning  of  the  latter  period  a  large  proportion  of 
this  land,  since  enclosed,  was  under  the  primitive  tillage  of 
the  common-fields.  Throughout  considerable  districts  the 
agrarian  system  of  the  middle  ages  still  existed  in  full  force. 
Some  parishes  had  no  common  or  waste  lands  belouging  to 
them,  but  where  common  lands  were  cultivated,  one  and  the 
same  plan  was  generally  pursued.  The  arable  land  of  each 
village  was  divided  into  three  great  stripes  subdivided  by 
'baulks'  three  yards  wide.^  Every  farmer  would  own  at 
least  one  piece  of  land  in  each  field,  and  all  were  bound  to 
follow  the  customary  tillage.  One  strip  was  left  fallow 
every  year ;  on  the  other  two  were  grown  wheat  and  barley ; 
sometimes  oats,  pease,  or  tares  were  substituted  for  the 
latter.  The  meadows  were  also  held  in  common.  Up  to 
hay  harvest,  indeed,  every  man  had  his  own  plot,  but,  while 
in  the  arable  land  tlie  plots  rarely  changed  hands,  in  the 
meadows  the  different  shares  were  apportioned  by  lot  every 
year.  After  hay-harvest  the  fences  in  the  meadow  land 
were  thrown  down,  and  all  householders  had  common  rights 
of  grazing  on  it.  Similarly  the  stubbles  were  grazed,  but 
here  the  right  was  rarely  open  to  all.  Every  farmer  had 
the  right  of  pasture  on  the  waste. 

Though  these  common  fields  contained  the  best  soil  in 

*  Northern  Tour,  iv.  340-41.     See  also  Eastern  Tour,  iv.  465-56,  for  a 

Bomewhat  different  estimate. 

*  Shaw  Lefevre,  Ess'^ys  on  English  and  Irith  Land  Question,  p.  199. 
»  Maine's  V^Ulage  Communities,  p.  89. 


ENGLAND  IN  1760:  AGRIOULTUEE  15 

the  kingdom,  they  exhibited  the  most  wretched  cultivation. 
'Sever,*  says  Arthur  Young,  'were  more  miserable  crops 
seen  than  all  the  spring  ones  in  the  common  fields ;  abso- 
lutely beneath  contempt'^  The  causes  of  this  deficient 
tillage  were  three  in  number — (1)  The  same  course  of  crops 
was  necessary.  No  proper  rotation  was  feasible ;  the  only 
possible  alternation  being  to  vary  the  proportions  of  different 
white-straw  crops.  There  were  no  turnips  or  artificial 
grasses,  and  consequently  no  sheep-farming  on  a  large 
scale.  Such  sheep  as  there  were  were  miserably  small ;  the 
whole  carcase  weighed  only  28  lbs.,  and  the  fleeces  3J  lbs. 
each,  as  against  9  lbs.  on  sheep  in  enclosed  fields.*  (2) 
Much  time  was  lost  by  labourers  an.d  cattle  '  in  travelling  to 
inany^dispersed  pieces  of  land  from  one  end  of  a  parish  to 
another.'*  (3)  Perpetual  quarrels  arose  about  rights  of 
pasture   in  the    meadows    and    stubbles,    and    respecting 

'  A.  Yoang,  Southern  Tour  {3rd  ed.,  1772),  p.  384.  See  also  Northern 
Tour,  i.  160-62,  where  he  compares  the  yields  of  open  and  enclosed  lands 
at  Risby  and  the  liCigLbourhood  as  follows : — 

Open  land.  Enclosed. 

Wheat  17 '18  bushels  per  acr«  26 

Barley  36  „  40 

Oats  32  „  44 

Bean  28  „  32 

See  also  View  of  the  Agriculture  of  Oxfordshire,  by  A.  Young  (1809),  p. 
100 ;  ClifiFord's  Agricultural  Lockout  in  1874,  p.  121  n.  ;  and  Laurence's 
Duty  of  a  Steward,  p.  37-8.  The  latter  gires  the  following  preamble  for 
a  form  of  agreement  for  enclosure  : — '  Whereas  it  is  found  by  long  experi- 
ence that  common  or  open  fields,  wherever  they  are  sutfered  or  continuexi, 
are  great  hindrances  to  a  public  good,  and  the  honest  improvement  which 
every  one  might  make  of  his  own  by  diligence  and  a  seasonable  charge ; 
.  .  .  and  whereas  all  or  most  the  inconveniences  and  misfortunes  which 
usually  attend   the  open   wastes  and  common   fields  have  been  fatally 

experienced  at ,  to  the  great  discouragement  of  industry  and  good 

husbandry  in  the  Freeholders ;  viz.  that  the  poor  take  their  advantage 
to  pilfer  and  steal  and  trespass  ;  that  the  corn  is  subject  to  be  spoiled  by 
cattle,  that  stray  out  of  the  common  and  highways  adjacent ;  that  the 
tenants,  or  owners,  if  they  would  secure  the  fruits  of  their  labours  to 
themselves,  are  obliged  either  to  keep  exact  time  in  sowing  and  reaping 
or  else  to  be  subject  to  the  damage  and  inconvenience  that  must  attend 
the  lazy  practices  of  those  who  sow  unseasonably,  sufiFering  their  corn  to 
stand  to  the  beginning  of  winter,  thereby  hindering  the  whole  parish 
from  eating  the  herbage  of  the  common  field  tiU  the  frosts  have  spoiled 
the  most  of  it.  For  these  reasons,'  etc.  etc. 
"  A.  Young,  yorthern  Tour,  iv.  190. 
•  View  of  the  Agriculture  of  OxforcUhire,  p.  100. 


16  THE  INDUSTRIAL  REVOLUTION 

boundaries ;  in  some  fields  there  were  no  *  baulks '  to  divide 
the  plots,  and  men  would  plough  by  night  to  steal  a  furrow 
from  their  neighbours.^ 

For  these  reasons  the  connections  between  thejpractice  of 
enclosing  and  improved  agriculture  was  very  close.  The 
early  enclosures,  made  under  the  Statutes  of  Merton  (1235), 
and  Westminster  (1285),  were  taken  by  the  lords  of  the 
manor  from  the  waste.  But  in  these  cases  the  lord  had  first 
to  prove  that  sufficient  pasturage  had  been  left  for  the 
commoners ;  and  if  rights  of  common  existed  independent 
of  the  possession  of  land,  no  enclosure  was  permitted. 
These  early  enclosures  went  on  steadily,  but  the  enclosures 
which  first  attract  notice  towards  the  end  of  the  fifteenth 
century  were  of  a  different  kind.  They  were  often  made  on 
cultivated  land,  and,  if  Nasse  is  correct,  they  took  the  form 
not  only  of  permanent  conversions  from  arable  into  pasture, 
but  of  temporary  conversions  of  arable  into  pasture, 
followed  by  reconversion  from  pasture  into  arable.  The 
result  was  a  great  increase  of  produce.  The  lord  having 
separated  his  plots  from  those  of  his  neighbours,  and  having 
consolidated  them,  could  pursue  any  system  of  tillage  which 
seemed  good  to  him.  The_AlJieriiate_jand  convertible  hus- 
bandry, mentioned  above,  was  introduced ;  the  manure  of 
the  cattle  enriched  the  arable  land,  and  '  the  grass  crops  on 
the  land  ploughed  up  and  manured  were  much  stronger  and 
of  a  better  quality  than  those  on  the  constant  pasture.'^ 
Under  the  old  system  the  manure  was  spread  on  the  ground 
pasture,  while  in  the  enclosures  it  was  used  for  the  benefit 
of  land  broken  up  for  tillage.  The  great  enclosures  of  the 
sixteenth  century  took  place  in  Suffolk,  Essex,  Kent,  and 
Northamptonshire,  which  were  in  consequence  the  most 
wealthy  counties.*  They  were  frequent  also  in  Oxford, 
Berks,  Warwickshire,  Bedfordshire,  Bucks,  and  Leicester- 
shire, and  with  similar  results.  In  Arthur  Young's  time 
Norfolk,  Suffolk,  Essex,  and  Kent  were  the  best  cultivated 
parts  of  England. 

Taking  a  general  view  of  the  state  of  agriculture  in  1760, 

*  View  of  the  Agriculture  of  Oxfordshire,  p.  239. 

'  Nasse's  Agricuilural  Community  of  the  Middle  Ages,  p.  85. 

•  Cf.  Tuaser,  'William  Staflford,  and  Holinshed,  quoted  by  Nasee. 


ENGLAND  IN  1760:  AGEICULTUEE  17 

we  find  that  improvements  were  confined  to  a  few  parts  of 
the  country.  The  first  enclosure  Bill  (1710)  was  to  legalise 
the  enclosure  of  a  parish  in  Hampshire.  I  have  looked 
through  twelve  of  these  Bills  of  the  reign  of  George  i.,  and 
I  find  that  they  applied  to  parishes  in  Derbyshire,  Lanca- 
shire, Yorkshire,  Staffordshire,  Somersetshire,  Gloucester- 
shire, Wilts,  Warwickshire,  and  Norfolk.^  But  though 
enclosures  were  thus  widely  distributed,  certain  counties 
continued  to  bear  a  much  higher  reputation  than  others, 
and  in  some  improvements  were  confined  to  one  or  two 
parishes,  and  not  spread  over  a  wide  district.  The  best 
cultivated  counties  were  those  which  had  long  been  en- 
closed. Kent,  wliich  was  spoken  of  by  William  Stafford  in 
1581  as  a  county  where  much  of  the  land  was  enclosed,  is 
described  by  Arthur  Young  as  having  '  long  been  reckoned 
the  best  cultivated  in  England.'  ...  'It  must  astonish 
strangers,'  he  says,  *  to  East  Kent  and  Thanet,  to  find  such 
numbers  of  common  farmers  that  have  more  drilled  crops 
than  broadcast  ones,  and  to  see  them  so  familiar  with  drill- 
ploughs  and  horse-hoes.  The  drill  culture  carried  on  in  so 
complete  a  manner  is  the  great  peculiarity  of  this  country. 
.  .  .  Hops  are  extremely  well  cultivated.' '  In  another 
passage  he  says  that  Kent  and  Hertfordshire  'have  the 
reputation  of  a  very  accurate  cultivation.'*  The  Marquis 
of  Kockingham  brought  a  Hertfordshire  farmer  to  teach  his 
tenants  in  the  West  Eiding  to  hoe  turnips.*  The  husbandry 
both  of  that  district  and  of  the  East  Eiding  was  very  back- 
ward. The  courses  of  crops  and  the  general  management 
of  the  arable  land  were  very  faulty ;  very  few  of  the  farmers 
hoed  turnips,  and  those  who  did  executed  the  work  in  so 
slovenly  a  way  that  neither  the  crop  nor  the  land  was  the 
least  the  better  for  it ;  beans  were  never  hoed  at  alL^    The 

^  Seven  of  them  were  for  the  enclosure  of  common  fields  and  waste, 
five  for  waste  alone. 

'  Eastern  Tour,  iii.  108-9.     The  italics  are  Arthur  Young's. 

»  Northern  Tour,  i.  292. 

*  lb.,  283.  Othernovelties  introduced  by  him  were  improved  drains, 
laying  down  of  pastures  level,  instead  of  ridge  and  furrow,  and  improved 
machines  and  manuring.  He  kept  upwards  of  2(KiO  acres  in  his  own 
hands,  on  which  he  experimented,  but  found  great  difficulty  in  inducing 
'  the  eood  common  farmers '  to  imitate  his  husbandry. 

»  Northern  Tour,  i.  215-221. 

B 


18  THE  INDUSTRIAL  REVOLUTION 

husbandry  of  Northumberland,  on  the  other  hand,  was  much 
superior  to  that  of  Durham  and  Yorkshire.  Turnips  were 
hoed,  manure  was  better  managed,  and  potatoes  were  culti- 
vated on  a  large  scale.^  Essex,  held  up  by  Tusser  in  the 
reign  of  Elizabeth  as  an  example  of  the  advantages  of  en- 
closures,^ and  described  by  Young  in  1807  as  having 'for 
ages  been  an  enclosed  country,'  is  mentioned  as  early  as  1694 
as  a  county  where  'some  have  their  fallow  after  turnips, 
which  feed  their  sheep  in  winter,'^ — the  first  mention  of 
turnips  as  a  field  crop. 

But  the  greatest  progress  in  the  first  half  of  the  eighteenth 
century  seems  to  have  taken  place  in  Norfolk.  Every  one 
has  heard  of  Townshend  growing  turnips  at  Eaynham,  after 
his  quarrel  with  Walpole;  and  Young,  writing  in  1812, 
after  speaking  of  the  period  1700-17GO  as  one  of  stagnation, 
owing  to  low  prices  ('it  is  absolutely  vain  to  expect  im- 
provements in  agriculture  unless  prices  are  more  disposed 
to  rise  than  to  remain  long  without  variations  that  give 
encouragement  to  the  farmer'),  admits  that  the  improve- 
ments made  in  Norfolk  during  that  time  were  an  exception. 
In  his  Eastern  Tour  (1770),  he  had  spoken  of  the  husbandry 
*  which  has  rendered  the  name  of  this  county  so  famous  in 
the  farming  world ' ;  *  and  given  seven  reasons  for  the  im- 
provements. These  were : — (1.)  Enclosing  without  assist- 
ance of  Parliament.  Parliamentary  enclosure 'through  the 
knavery  of  commissioners  and  attorneys,'  was  very  expen- 
sive. 'Undoubtedly  many  of  the  finest  loams  on  the 
richest  marls  would  at  this  day  have  been  sheep-walks  had 
there  been  any  right  of  commonage  on  them' ;^  (2.)  Mar- 
ling, for  there  was  plenty  of  marl  under  the  sand  every- 
where; (3.)  An  excellent  rotation  of  crops — the  famous 
Norfolk  four  years'  course  of  turnips,  barley,  clover  (or 
clover  and  rye-grass),  and  wheat;  (4.)  The  culture  of 
turnips  well  hand-hoed ;  (5.)  The  culture  of  clover  and  rye- 

*  Norlhem  Tour,  iii.  91. 

'  •  All  these  doth  enclosures  bring,  But  only  a  truth  to  express. 

Experience  teacheth  no  less  ;  Example,  if  doubt  ye  do  make, 

I  speak  not  to  boast  of  the  thing,       By  SuflFolk  and  Essex  go  take.' 

'  See  Houghton's  Collections  in  Husbandry  and  Trade,  quoted  in  Ency. 
Brit,  sub  'Aerriculture.' 

*  EasUrn  Tour,  ii.  150.  •  Ibid.,  ii.  162. 


ENGLAND  IN  1760:  AGRICULTURE  19 

grass ;  (6.)  The  granting  of  long  leases ;  *  (7.)  The  division 
of  tlie  county  chiefly  into  large  farms.  'Great  farms/  he 
says,  'have  been  the  soul  of  the  Norfolk  culture,'*  though 
in  the  eastern  part  of  the  county  there  were  little  occupiers 
of  £100  a  year.' 

Throughout  the  whole  of  the  South  of  England,  however, 
there  had  been  a  certain  amount  of  progress.  Hoeing  tur- 
nips, according  to  Young,  was  common  in  many  parts  of  the 
south  of  the  kingdom,*  although  the  extensive  use  of  tur- 
nips,— i.e.  all  their  uses  for  fattening  cattle  as  well  as  feed- 
ing lean  sheep — '  is  known  but  little  of,  except  in  Norfolk, 
Suffolk,  and  Essex.' '  Clover  husbandry,  on  the  other  hand, 
was  '  universal  from  the  North  of  England  to  the  further 
end  of  Glamorganshire.'  Clover,  the  'great  clover,'  had 
been  introduced  into  England  by  Sir  Richard  Weston  about 
1645,  as  had  probably  been  turnips  also.  Potatoes  at  the 
beginning  of  the  century  were  only  garden  crops.  Hemp 
and  flax  were  frequently  grown,  as  were  also  hops,  which 
had  been  introduced  in  the  beginning  of  the  sixteenth 
century. 

If  we  turn  from  the  cultivation  of  the  soil  to  the  manage- 
ment and  breeding  of  live  stock,  we  shall  find  that  no  great 
progress  had  been  made  in  this  branch  during  the  years 
1700-1760.  Davenant  in  1700  estimated  the  net  carcase  of 
black  cattle  at  370  lb.,  and  of  a  sheep  at  28  lb.  A  century 
later  Eden  calculated  that '  bullocks  now  killed  in  London 
weigh,  at  an  average,  800  lb.,  sheep  80  lb.,  and  lambs  about 
50  lb.  each*;^  and  Young  in  1786  put  the  weight  of 
bullocks  and  sheep  at  840  lb.  and  100  lb.  respectively. 
But  this  improvement  seems  to  have  come  about  after  1760. 

^  '  It  is  a  castom  growing  pretty  common,'  he  says,  '  in  several  parts 
of  the  kingdom  to  grant  no  leases.  Had  the  Norfolk  landlords  conducted 
themselves  on  such  narrow  principles,  their  estates,  which  are  raised 
five,  six,  and  ten  fold,  would  yet  have  been  sheep  walks.' — Eastern  Tour 
u.  160,  161.  »  Ih, 

*  Ih.  Caird,  however,  asserts  that  '  the  present  pre-eminence  of  the 
county  in  improved  husbandry  is  due  alone  to  the  celebrated  Coke  of 
Norfolk,  the  late  Elarl  of  Leicester.' — English  Agriculture  in  1850,  p.  163 

*  Northtm  Tour,  i.  282. 

•  Southern  Tour,  pp.  280,  281. 

•  Eden's  State  of  the.  Poor  (1797),  i.  334.  Tooke  thought  that  Eden'i 
estimate  was  rather  too  high. — High  and  Low  Prices  (1823),  p.  184. 


20  THE  INDUSTRIAL  REVOLUTION 

It  was  not  until  1760-85  that  Bakewell  perfected  the  new 
breed  of  sheep — the  Leicesters — and  improved  the  breed  of 
long-horned  cattle,  and  that  the  brothers  Culley  obtained 
the  short-horn,  or  Durham  cattle,  from  the  breed  in  the 
valley  of  the  Tees.^  Some  improvements  in  the  breed  of 
sheep,  however,  had  already  been  made.  'The  wool  of 
Warwickshire,  Northamptonshire,  Lincolnshire,  and  Rut- 
land, with  some  parts  of  Huntingdon,  Bedford,  Bucking- 
hamshire, Cambridgeshire,  and  Norfolk  has  been  accounted 
the  longest  and  finest  combing  wool.  But  of  late  years ' 
(this  was  written  in  1739)  'there  have  been  improvements 
made  in  the  breed  of  sheep  by  changing  of  rams  and  sowing 
of  turnips  and  grass  seeds,  and  now  there  is  some  large  fine 
combing  wool  to  be  found  in  most  counties  in  England, 
which  is  fine,  long,  and  soft,  fit  to  make  all  sorts  of  fine 
stuff  and  hose  of.'  ^  Still  improvements  in  feeding  sheep 
were  by  no  means  universally  adopted  for  half  a  century 
later.'  Agricultural  implements,  too,  were  still  very  primi- 
tive, wooden  ploughs  being  commonly  in  use,*  while  the 
small,  narrow- wheeled  waggon  of  the  North  held  40  or  50 
bushels  with  difficulty. 

Arthur  Young  constantly  attributes  much  of  the  bad 
agriculture  to  the  low  rentals  prevalent.  '  Of  so  little  en- 
couragement to  them,'  he  writes  of  the  farmers  of  Cleve- 
land, '  is  the  lowness  of  their  rents,  that  many  large  tracts 
of  land  that  yielded  good  crops  of  corn  within  thirty  years 

1  Eiicy.  J5n«.—' Agriculture';  Northei-n  Tour,  ii.  127;  Eastern  Totir, 
i.  111. 

2  Pamphlet  by  a  IVooUen  Manufacturer  of  Northampton,  in  Smith's 
Memoirs  of  Wool,  ii.  320.  The  woollen  manufacturers  complained  that 
enclosures  lessened  the  number  of  sheep,  but  Young  denies  this. — 
Eastern  Tour,  ii.  5. 

'  An  old  Norfolk  shepherd,  who  was  drawn  for  the  Militia  in  1811 
(when  he  was  probably  about  eighteen  years  old),  described  how  the 
sheep  lived  when  he  was  a  boy : — '  As  for  the  sheep,  they  hadn't  such 
food  provided  for  them  as  they  have  now.  In  winter  there  was  little  to 
eat,  except  what  God  Almighty  sent  for  them,  and  when  the  snow  was 
thick  on  the  ground,  they  ate  the  ling,  or  died  off.  Sheep  were  not  of 
much  account  then.  I  liave  known  lambs  sold  at  Is.  6d.  apiece.' — 
Clifford's  Agricultural  Lockout,  p.  206. 

*  '  The  plough  in  many  parts  of  P^.ngland  differs  but  little  from  the  de- 
aoription  we  have  of  the  Ikcnan  plough.  Agricultural  machinery  has  of 
all  others  received  the  least  improvement.' — Eden,  L  442  n. 


ENGLAND  IN  1760:  AGRICULTURE  21 

are  now  overrun  with  whins,  brakes,  and  other  trumpery. 
...  If  I  be  demanded  how  such  ill  courses  are  to  be 
stopped,  I  answer,  Eaise  their  rents.  First  with  moderation, 
and  if  that  does  not  bring  forth  industry,  double  them.'^ 
At  the  same  time  Young  strongly  advocated  long  leases. 
But  it  must  be  remembered  that  besides  tenant-farmers 
there  were  still  a  large  number  of  freeholders  and  still  more 
copyholders  either  for  life  or  by  inheritance. 

On  the  whole,  though  the  evidence  on  some  points  is 
somewhat  contradictory,  the  progress  of  agriculture  between 
1700  and  1760  may  be  said  to  have  been  slow.  Writing  in 
1770  Arthur  Young  ascribes  to  the  last  ten  years  'more 
experiments,  more  discoveries,  and  more  genenil  good  sense 
displayed  in  the  walk  of  agriculture  than  in  an  hundred 
preceding  ones.*  Though  drill-husbandry  was  practised  by 
Jcthro  Tull,  'a  gentleman  of  Berkshire,'  as  early  as  1701, 
and  his  book  was  published  in  1731,  'he  seems  to  have  had 
few  followers  in  England  for  more  than  thirty  years,' '  and 
Young  in  1770  speaks  of  'the  new  husbandry'  as  having 
sunk  with  Tull,  and  '  not  again  put  in  motion  till  within  a 
few  years.'*  On  the  other  hand,  we  have  as  early  as  1687 
Petty's  notice  of  'the  draining  of  fens,  watering  of  dry 
grounds,  and  improving  of  forests  and  commons.'  Macpher- 
son  in  the  year  1729  speaks  of  the  great  sums  lately 
expended  in  the  enclosing  and  improving  of  lands;*  and 
Laurence  in  1727  asserts  that '  it  is  an  undoubted  truth  that 
the  Art  of  Husbandry  is  of  late  years  greatly  improved,  and 
accordingly  many  estates  have  already  admitted  their 
utmost  improvement,  but,'  he  adds,  '  much  the  greater 
number  still  remains  of  such  as  are  so  far  from  being 
brought  to  that  perfection  that  they  have  felt  few  or  none 
of  the  effects  of  modern  arts  and  experiments.' " 

*  Northern  Tour,  ii.  80-83. 

*  For  Tall  see  Encyclopedia  Britannica — 'Agriculture,'  Rev.  Mr. 
Smith's  Word  in  Season,  and  Day's  Lecture  before  the  Royal  Agri- 
culturil  Society. 

*  Bural  Economy  (1770),  p.  315. 

*  Annalt  of  Commerce,  iii.  147.  According  to  Defoe  agriculture  had 
much  improved  in  the  north.  Davenant,  in  1698,  speaks  of  the  great 
improvement  since  1666,  Works  (Whitwortha  edition,  1771),  i.  359.  See 
also  Rogers,  Kotes  to  Adam  Smith,  u.  81. 

'  IhUy  of  a  Steteard,  p.  2. 


22  THE  INDUSTKIAL  REVOLUTION 

Still,  in  spite  of  the  ignorance  and  stupidity  of  the 
farmers  and  their  use  of  wretched  implements,  the  average 
produce  of  wheat  was  large.  In  1770  it  was  twenty-five 
bushels  to  the  acre,  when  in  France  it  was  only  eighteen.^ 
At  the  beginning  of  the  century  some  of  our  colonies 
imported  wheat  from  the  mother  country.  The  average 
export  of  grain  from  1697  to  1765  was  nearly  500,000 
quarters,  while  the  imports  came  to  a  very  small  figure. 
The  exports  were  sent  to  Eussia,  Holland,  and  America. 


IV 

ENGLAND  IN  1760 

MANUFACTURES  AND  TRADE 

Great  importance  of  the  WooUea  Manufacture — Its  introduction  into 
England — Its  chief  centres :  1.  In  the  eastern  counties.  2.  In 
Wilts,  Gloucester,  and  Somerset.  3.  In  Yorkshire — The  Iron, 
Cotton,  Hardware,  and  Hosiery  Trades — Tendency  to  concentration 
— State  of  the  mechanical  arts — Imperfect  division  of  labour — Means 
of  communication  —  Organisation  of  industry — Simple  system  of 
exchange — Growth  of  Foreign  Trade  and  its  eflects. 

Among  the  manufactures  of  the  time  the  woollen  business 
was  by  far  the  most  important.  *  All  our  measures,*  wrote 
Bishop  Berkeley  in  1737,  'should  tend  towards  the  im- 
mediate encouragement  of  our  woollen  manufactures,  which 
must  be  looked  upon  as  the  basis  of  our  wealth.'  In  1701 
our  woollen  exports  were  worth  £2,000,000,  or  'above  a 
fourth  part  of  the  whole  export  trade.' ^  In  1770  they 
were  worth  £4,000,000,  or  between  a  third  and  a  fourth  of 
the  whole.*  The  territorial  distribution  of  the  manufacture 
was  much  the  same  as  now.     This  industry  had  probably 

^  Travels  in  France,  i.  354.  The  average  yield  in  England  now  is  28 
bushels,  but  of  course  we  raise  part  of  our  present  crops  from  a  non- 
natural  soil. 

'  Baines's  History  of  the  Cotton  Manufacture  (1835),  p.  112. 

•  Macpherson's  Annals  of  Commerce  (1803),  iii.  606.  That  book,  to- 
gether with  the  Gazetteer  of  the  same  author,  has  been  largely  drawn 
from  in  this  aoooant  of  the  woollen  industry. 


ENGLAND  IN  1760  :  MANUFACTUEES  AND  TRADE  23 

existed  in  England  from  an  early  date.  It  is  mentioned  in 
a  law  of  1224.^  In  1331  John  Kennedy  brought  the  art  of 
weaving  woollen  cloth  from  Flanders  into  England,  and 
received  the  protection  of  the  king,  who  at  the  same  time 
invited  over  fullers  and  dyers.  There  is  extant  a  petition 
of  the  worsted-weavers  and  merchants  of  Norwich  to 
Edward  in.  in  1348.  The  coarse  cloths  of  Kendal  and  the 
fine  cloths  of  Somerset,  Dorset,  Bristol,  and  Gloucester  are 
mentioned  in  the  statutes  of  the  same  century.  In  1391 
we  hear  of  Guildford  cloths,  and  in  1467  of  the  wooUen 
manufacture  in  Devonshire  —  at  Lifton,  Tavistock,  and 
Eowburgh.  In  1402  the  manufacture  was  settled  to  a 
great  extent  in  and  near  London,  but  it  gradually  shifted, 
owing  to  the  high  price  of  labour  and  provisions,  to  Surrey, 
Kent,  Essex,  Berkshire,  and  Oxfordshire,  and  afterwards 
still  further,  into  the  counties  of  Dorset,  Wilts,  Somerset, 
Gloucester,  and  Worcester,  and  even  as  far  as  Yorkshire. 

There  were  three  chief  districts  in  which  the  woollen  trade 
was  carried  on  about  1760.  One  of  these  owed  its  manu- 
facture to  the  wars  in  the  Netherlands.  In  consequence  of 
Alva's  persecutions  (1567-8)  many  Flemings  settled  in 
Norwich  (which  had  been  desolate  since  Ket's  rebellion  in 
1549),  Colchester,  Sandwich,  Canterbury,  Maidstone,  and 
Southampton.  The  two  former  towns  seem  to  have  bene- 
fited most  from  the  skill  of  these  settlers  so  far  as  the 
woollen  manufacture  was  concerned.  It  was  at  this  time, 
according  to  Macpherson,  that  Norwich  'learned  the 
making  of  those  fine  and  slight  stuffs  which  have  ever 
since  gone  by  its  name,'  such  as  crapes,  bombazines,  and 
camblets ;  while  the  baize-makers  settled  at  Colchester  and 
its  neighbourhood.  The  stuffs  thus  introduced  into  Eng- 
land were  known  as  the  '  new  drapery,'  and  included  baize, 
serges,  and  other  slight  woollen  goods  as  distinguished  from 
the  'old  drapery,'  a  term  applied  to  broad  cloth,  kersies, 
etc. 

The  chief  seats  of  the  West  of  England  manufacture  were 
Bradford  in  Wilts,  the  centre  of  the  manufacture  of  super- 

^  9  H.  111.  c.  27.  Coke's  comment  ia— '  True  it  is  that  broad  cloths 
were  made,  though  in  small  number,  at  this  time  and  long  before  it.' 
See  Smith,  Memoirs  of  Wool  (1747),  i.  17. 


24  THE  INDUSTRIAL  REVOLUTION 

fine  cloth ;  Devizes,  famous  for  ita  serges ;  Warminster  and 
Frome,  with  their  fine  cloth ;  Trowbridge ;  Stroud,  the 
centre  of  the  dyed-cloth  manufactures ;  and  Taunton,  which 
in  Defoe's  time  possessed  1100  looms.^  The  district  reached 
from  Cirencester  in  the  north  to  Sherborne  in  the  south, 
and  from  Witney  in  the  east  to  Bristol  in  the  west,  being 
about  fifty  miles  in  length  where  longest,  and  twenty  in 
breadth  where  narrowest, — '  a  rich  enclosed  country,'  as 
Defoe  says, '  full  of  rivers  and  towns,  and  infinitely  populous, 
insomuch  that  some  of  the  market  towns  are  equal  to  cities 
in  bigness,  and  superior  to  many  of  them  in  numbers  of 
people.'  It  was  a  '  prodigy  of  a  trade,'  and  the  '  fine  Spanish 
medley  cloths'  which  this  district  produced  were  worn 
by  'all  the  persons  of  fashion  in  England.'^  It  was  no 
doubt  the  presence  of  streams  and  the  Cotswold  wool  which 
formed  the  attractions  of  the  district.  A  branch  of  the 
industry  extended  into  Devon,  where  the  merchants  of 
Exeter  bought  in  a  rough  state  the  serges  made  in  the 
country  round,  to  dye  and  finish  them  for  home  consumption 
or  export. 

The  third  chief  seat  of  the  manufacture  was  the  West 
Riding  of  Yorkshire,  where  the  worsted  trade  centred  round 
Halifax,  which,  according  to  Camden,  began  to  manufacture 
about  1537;  and  where  Leeds  and  its  neighbourhood 
manufactured  a  coarse  cloth  of  English  wool.  In  1574 
the  manufacturers  of  the  West  Riding  made  56,000  pieces 
of  broad  cloth  and  72,000  of  narrow.  It  will  be  seen 
from  this  short  survey  that,  however  greatly  the  production 
of  these  different  districts  may  have  changed  in  proportion 
since  1760,  the  several  branches  of  the  trade  are  even 
now  distributed  very  much  as  they  were  then,  the  West 
Riding  being  the  headquarters  of  the  worsted  and  coarse 
cloth  trade,  while  Norwich  still  keeps  the  crape  industry, 
and  the  West  manufactures  fine  cloth. 

The  increased  demand  for  English  wool  consequent  upon 
the  extension  of  this  industry  led  to  large  enclosures  of 
land,  especially  in  Northamptonshire,  Rutlandshire,  Leicester- 
shire, and  Warwickshire,  which  counties  supplied  most 
of  the  combing  wools  used  for  worsted  stuffs  and  stock- 
»  pcfoe'o  Tour  (7th  edition,  1769),  ii.  19.         ■  Ibid.,  ii.  26,  37,  38. 


ENGLAND  IN  1760:  MANUFACTURES  AND  TRADE  25 

ings ;  but  parts  of  Huntingdon,  Bedford,  Bucks,  Cambridge- 
shire, Romney  Marsh,  and  Norfolk  competed  with  them, 
and  by  1739  most  counties  produced  the  fine  combing 
wooL  Defoe  mentions  the  sale  of  wool  from  Lincolnshire, 
'where  the  longest  staple  is  found,  the  sheep  of  those 
parts  being  of  the  largest  breed ' ;  ^  and  in  Arthur  Young's 
time  Liacolnshire  and  Leicestershire  wools  were  still  used 
at  Norwich.'  The  Cotswold  and  Isle  of  Wight  sheep 
yielded  clothing  or  short  wools, '  but  they  were  inferior  to 
the  best  Spanish  wools,'  and  could  not  'enter  into  the 
composition  without  spoiling  and  degrading  in  some  degree 
the  fabric  of  the  cloth/'  Consequently  in  the  West  of 
England,  occupied  as  it  was  with  the  production  of  the 
finest  cloths,  Spanish  wool  was  largely  used,  though  shortly 
before  Young's  time  it  was  discovered  that '  Norfolk  sheep 
yielded  a  wool  about  their  necks  equal  to  the  best  from 
Spain.'  * 

Next  in  importance  was  the  iron  trade,  which  was  largely 
carried  on,  though  by  this  time  a  decaying  industry,  in  the 
Weald  of  Sussex,  where  in  1740  there  were  ten  furnaces, 
producing  annually  1400  tons.  The  trade  had  reached  its 
chief  extent  in  the  seventeenth  century,  but  in  1724  was 
still  the  principal  manufacturing  interest  of  the  county. 
The  balustrades  which  surround  St.  Paul's  were  cast  at 
Lamberhurst,  and  their  weight,  including  the  seven  gates, 
is  above  200  tons.  They  cost  £11,000.  Gloucestershire, 
Shropshire,  and  Yorkshire  had  each  six  furnaces.  In  the 
latter  county,  which  boasted  an  annual  produce  of  1400* 
tons,  the  most  famous  works  were  at  Rotherham.  There 
were  also  great  ironworks  at  Newcastle.* 

In  1755  an  ironmaster  named  Anthony  Bacon  had  got  a 
lease  for  ninety-nine  years  of  a  district  eight  miles  in  length, 
by  five  in  breadth,  at  Merthyr-Tydvil,  upon  which  he  erected 
iron  and  coal  works.^     In  1709  the  Coalbrookdale  works  in 

1  Defoe's  Tour,  I  94.  *  Eastern  Tour,  ii.  74,  75. 

*  Smith,  Memoirs  of  Wool,  ii.  542,  543,  Ist  edition,  London,  1747. 
Adam  Smith,  Wealth  of  Nations,  book  iv.  ch,  viiL  (ii.  525). 

*  EaaUm  Tour,  loc.  cit. 

»  SCTivenor's  History  of  the  Iron  Trade  (1841),  p.  57. 

*  Northern  Tour,  iii.  9-11. 

'  Scrivener's  History  of  the  Iron  Trade,  p.  Igl. 


26  THE  INDUSTEIAL  REVOLUTION 

Shropshire  were  founded,  and  in  1760  Carron  iron  was  first 
manufactured  in  Scotland.^  Altogether,  there  were  about 
1737  fifty-nine  furnaces  in  eighteen  different  counties,  pro- 
ducing 17,350  tons  annually.  It  has  been  computed  that 
we  imported  20,000  tons.^  In  1881  we  exported  3,820,315 
tons  of  iron  and  steel,  valued  at  £27,590,908,  and  imported 
to  the  value  of  £3,705,332. 

The  cotton  trade  was  still  so  insignificant  as  to  be  men- 
tioned only  once,  and  that  incidentally  by  Adam  Smith.  It 
was  confined  to  Lancashire,  where  its  headquarters  were 
Manchester  and  Bolton.  In  1760  not  more  than  40,000 
persons  were  engaged  in  it,  and  the  annual  value  of  the 
manufactures  was  estimated  at  £600,000.  The  exports, 
however,  were  steadily  growing;  in  1701  they  amounted  to 
£23,253,  in  1751  to  £45,986,  in  1764  to  £200,354.  Burke 
about  this  time  spoke  of '  that  infinite  variety  of  admirable 
manufactures  that  grow  and  extend  every  year  among  the 
spirited,  inventive,  and  enterprising  traders  of  Manchester.' 
But  even  in  1764  our  exports  of  cotton  were  still  only  one- 
twentieth  of  the  value  of  the  wool  exports. 

The  hardware  trade  then  as  now  was  located  chiefly  in 
Sheffield  and  Birmingham,  the  latter  town  employing  over" 
50,000  people  in  that  industry.^  The  business,  however, 
was  not  so  much  concentrated  as  now,  and  there  were 
small  workshops  scattered  about  the  kingdom.  'Polished 
steel,'  for  instance,  was  manufactured  at  Woodstock,  locks 
in  South  Staffordshire,  pins  at  Warrington,  Bristol,  and 
Gloucester,  where  they  were  '  the  staple  of  the  city.'* 

The  hosiery  trade,  too,  was  as  yet  only  in  process  of  con- 
centration. By  1800  the  manufacture  of  silk  hosiery  had 
centred  in  Derby,  that  of  woollen  hosiery  in  Leicester, 
though  Nottingham  had  not  yet  absorbed  the  cotton  hosiery. 
But  at  the  beginning  of  the  century  there  were  still  many 
looms  round  London,  and  in  other  parts  of  the  South  of 
England.  In  1750  London  had  1000  frames,  Surrey  350, 
Nottingham  1500,  Leicester  1000,  Derby  200,  other  places 

*  Smiles's  IndtistricU  Biography,  pp.  82,  136. 
'  Scrivenor,  pp.  57,  71. 

*  Anderson,  On  Commerce,  Hi.  144. 

*  Southern  Tour,  p.  141  (2nd  edition,  1769). 


ENGLAND  IN  1760  :  MANUFACTURES  AND  TRADE  27 

in  the  Midlands,  7300;  other  English  and  Scotch  towns, 
1850;  Ireland,  800;  Total,  U.OOO.i  Most  of  the  silk  was 
vroven  in  Spitalfields,  but  first  spun  in  the  North  at  Stock- 
port, Knutsford,  Congleton,  and  Derby.'  In  1770  there 
was  a  silk-mill  at  Sheffield  on  the  model  of  Derby,  and  a 
manufactory  of  waste  silk  at  KendaL'  Coventry  had 
already,  in  Defoe's  time,  attracted  the  ribbon  business.*  In 
1721  the  silk  manufacture  was  said  to  be  worth  £700,000  a 
year  more  than  at  the  Revolution.' 

Linen  was  an  ancient  manufacture  in  England,  and  had 
been  introduced  into  Dundee  at  the  beginning  of  the  seven- 
teenth century.  In  1746  the  British  Linen  Company  was 
incorporated  to  supply  Africa  and  the  American  plantations 
with  linen  made  at  home,®  and  Adam  Smith  considered  it  a 
growiug  manufacture.  It  was,  of  course,  the  chief  manu- 
facture of  Ireland,  where  it  had  been  further  developed  by 
French  Protestants,  who  settled  there  at  the  end  of  the 
seventeenth  century. 

The  mechanical  arts  were  still  in  a  very  backward  state. 
In  spite  of  the  fact  that  the  woollen  trade  was  the  staple 
industry  of  the  country,  the  division  of  labour  in  it  was  in 
Adam  Smith's  time  'nearly  the  same  as  it  was  a  century 
before,  and  the  machinery  employed  not  very  difiFerent.' 
According  to  the  same  author  there  had  been  only  three. 
inventrons"or Tmportance  since  Edward  rv.'s  reign:  the 
exchange  of  the  rock  and  spindle  for  the  spinning-wheel; 
the  use  of  machines  for  facilitating  the  proper  arrangement 
of  the  warp  and  woof  before  being  put  into  the  loom ;  and 
the  employment  of  fulling  mills  for  thickening  cloth  in- 
stead of  treading  it  in  water.  In  this  enumeration,  how^ 
ever,  he  forgot  to  mention  the  fly^-shuttle,  invented  in  1738 
by  Kay,  a  native  of  Bury,  in  "^Encashire,  the  first  of  tEe 
great  inventions  which  revolutionised  the  woollen  industry. 
Its  utility  consisted  in  its  enabling  a  weaver  to  do  his  work 

*  Felkin's  HUtory  of  the  Hosiery  and  Lace  Manufacture  (1867),  p.  76. 

'  Defoe'a  Tour,  ii.  397  ;  iii.  73.     The   Derby  mill  waa  nniqae  of  its 
kind. 
»  Northern  Tour,  i.  124  ;  iiL  135. 

*  Defoe'i  Tour,  il  421. 

'  British  Merchant,  quoted  in  Smith's  Memoirs  of  Wooi. 

*  Anderson,  iiL  252. 


28  THE  INDUSTRIAL  REVOLUTION 

in  half  the  time,  aud  making  it  possible  for  one  man  in- 
stead of  two  to  weave  the  widest  cloth.^ 

'The  machines  used  in  the  cotton  manufacture/  says 
Baines,  'were,  up  to  the  year  1760,  nearly  as  simple  as 
those  of  India;  though  the  loom  was  more  strongly  and 
perfectly  constructed,  and  cards  for  combing  the  cotton 
had  been  adapted  from  the  woollen  manufacture.  None 
but  the  strong  cottons,  such  as  fustians  and  dimities,  were 
as  yet  made  in  England,  and  for  these  the  demand  must 
always  have  been  limited.' *  In  1738  John  Wyatt  invented 
spinning  by  rollers,  but  the  discovery  never  proved  profit- 
able. In  1760  the  manufacturers  of  Lancashire  began  to 
use  the  fly-shuttle.  Calico  printing  was  already  largely 
developed.' 

The  reason  why  division  of  labour  was  carried  out  to  so 
small  an  extent,  an  invention  so  rare  and  so  little  regarded, 
is  given  by  Adam  Smith  himself.  Division  of  labour,  as  he 
points  out,  is  limited  by  the  extent  of  the  market,  and, 
owing  chiefly  to  bad  means  of  communication,  the  market 
for  English  manufactures  was  still  a  very  narrow  one.  Yet 
England,  however  slow  the  development  of  her  manufac- 
tures, advanced  nevertheless  more  rapidly  in  this  respect 
than  other  nations.  One  great  secret  of  her  progress  lay 
in  the  facilities  for  water-carriage  afi'orded  by  her  rivers, 
for  all  communication  by  land  was  still  in  the  most  ne- 
glected condition.  A  second  cause  was  the  absence  of  in- 
ternal customs  barriers,  such  as  existed  in  France,  and  in 
Prussia  until  Stein's  time.  The  home  trade  of  England  was 
absolutely  free. 

Arthur  Young  gives  abundant  evidence  of  the  execrable 
state  of  the  roads.  It  took  a  week  or  more  for  a  coach  to 
go  from  London  to  Edinburgh.  On  'that  infernal'  road 
between  Preston  and  Wigan  the  ruts  were  four  feet  deep, 
and  he  saw  three  carts  break  down  in  a  mile  of  road.    At 

^  Fox  Bourne's  Romance  of  Trade,  p.  183. 

'  Baines's  History  of  the  Cotton  Manufacture,  p.  116. 

*  In  1719  'all  the  mean  people,  the  maid  servants,  and  indifferently 
poor  persons,  who  would  otherwise  clothe  themselves,  and  wer  tusually 
clothed,  in  thin  women's  stuffs  made  at  Norwich  and  London,  are  now 
clothed  in  calico  or  printed  linen.'  —  Pamphlet  in  Smith's  Memoirt, 
U.  195. 


ENGLAND  IN  1760  :  MANUFACTURES  AND  TRADE  29 

WarriDgton  the  turnpike  was  'most  infamously  bad/  and 
apparently  'made  with  a  view  to  immediate  destruction.' 
'  Very  shabby,'  '  execrable,'  '  vile,'  '  most  execrably  vile,'  are 
Young's  ordinary  comments  on  the  highways.  But  the 
water  routes  for  traffic  largely  made  up  for  the  deficiencies 
of  the  land  routes. 

Attempts  to  improve  water  communication  began  with 
deepening  the  river  beds.  In  1635  there  was  a  project  for 
rendering  the  Avon  navigable  from  its  junction  with  the 
Severn  at  Tewkesbury  through  Gloucestershire,  Worcester- 
shire, and  Warwickshire,  but  it  was  abandoned  owing  to 
the  civil  war.  From  1660  to  1755  various  Acts  were  passed 
for  deepening  the  beds  of  rivers.  In  1720  there  was  an 
Act  for  making  the  Mersey  and  Irwell  navigable  between 
Liverpool  and  Manchester.  About  the  same  time  the  navi- 
gation of  the  Aire  and  Calder  was  opened  out.  In  1765 
the  first  canal  was  made,  eleven  miles  in  length,  near  Liver- 
pool Three  years  later  the  Duke  of  Bridgewater  had 
another  constructed  from  his  coal  mines  at  Worsley  to 
Manchester,  seven  miles  distant.  Between  1761  and  1766 
a  still  longer  one  of  twenty-nine  miles  was  completed  from 
Manchester  through  Chester  to  the  Mersey  above  Liver- 
pool From  this  time  onwards  the  canal  system  spread 
with  great  rapidity. 

When  we  turn  to  investigate  the  industrial  organisation 
of  the  time,  we  find  that  the  class  of  capitalist  employers 
was  as  yet  but  in  its  infancy.  A  large  part  of  our  goods 
were  still  produced  on  the  domestic  system.  Manufactures 
were  little  concentrated  in  towns,  and  only  partially  separ- 
ated from  agriculture.  The  '  manufacturer '  was,  literally, 
the  man  who  worked  with  his  own  hands  in  his  own  cot- 
tage. Nearly  the  whole  cloth  trade  of  the  West  Riding, 
for  instance,  was  organised  on  this  system  at  the  beginning 
of  the  century. 

An  important  feature  in  the  industrial  organisation  of  the 
time  was  the  existence  of  a  number  of  suiall  master-manu- 
facturers, who  were  entirely  independent,  having  capital 
and  land  of  their  own,  for  they  combined  the  culture  of 
small  freehold  pasture-farms  with  their  handicraft.  Defoe 
has  left  an  interesting  picture  of  their  life.     The  land  near 


30  thp:  industrial  eevolution 

Halifax,  he  says,  was  *  divided  into  small  Enclosures  from 
two  Acres  to  six  or  seven  each,  seldom  more,  every  three  or 
four  Pieces  of  Land  had  an  House  belonging  to  them :  .  .  . 
hardly  an  House  standing  out  of  a  Speaking-distance  from 
another ;  ...  we  could  see  at  every  House  a  Tenter,  and 
on  almost  every  Tenter  a  piece  of  Cloth  or  Kersie  or 
Shaloon.  .  .  .  Every  clothier  keeps  one  horse,  at  least,  to 
carry  his  Manufactures  to  the  Market;  and  every  one, 
generally,  keeps  a  Cow  or  two  or  more  for  his  Family.  By 
this  means  the  small  Pieces  of  enclosed  Land  about  each 
house  are  occupied,  for  they  scarce  sow  Corn  enough 
to  feed  their  Poultry.  .  .  .  The  houses  are  full  of  lusty 
Fellows,  some  at  the  Dye-vat,  some  at  the  looms,  others 
dressing  the  Cloths;  the  women  and  children  carding  or 
spinning;  being  all  employed  from  the  youngest  to  the 
oldest.  .  .  .  Not  a  Beggar  to  be  seen  nor  an  idle  person.'  ^ 

This  system,  however,  was  no  longer  universal  in  Arthur 
Young's  time.  That  writer  found  at  Sheffield  a  silk-mill 
employing  152  hands,  including  women  and  children;  at 
Darlington  *  one  master-manufacturer  employed  above  fifty 
looms';  at  Boy  ton  there  were  150  hands  in  one  factory.' 
So,  too,  in  the  West  of  England  cloth-trade  tjie^  germs  of 
the  capitalist  system  were  visible.  The  rich  merchant  gave 
out  work  to  labourers  in  the  surrounding  villages,  who  were 
his  employes,  and  were  not  independent.  In  the  Notting- 
ham hosiery  trade  there  were,  in  1750,  fifty  manufacturers, 
known  as  'putters  out,'  who  employed  1200  frames;  in 
Leicestershire  1800  frames  were  so  employed.^  In  the 
hand-made  nail  business  of  Staffordshire  and  Worcester- 
shire, the  merchant  had  warehouses  in  different  parts  of  the 
district,  and  give  out  nail-rod  iron  to  the  nail-master, 
sufficient  for  a  week's  work  for  him  and  his  family.*  In 
Lancashire  we  can  trace,  step  by  step,  the  growth  of  the 
capitalist  employer.  At  first  we  see,  as  in  Yorkshire,  the 
weaver  furnishing  himself  with  warp  and  weft,  which  he 
worked  up  in  his  own  house  and  brought  himself  to  market. 

1  Defoe's  Tour,  iii.  144-6. 

*  Northern  Tour,  i.  124 ;  ii.  6,  427.     See  Smith's  Memoire,  ii.  313. 

*  Felkin's  History  of  Hosiery,  etc. ,  p.  83. 

*  Timmins's   Resources,  Products,  etc.,  of  BirmingJuim  (1866),  pp.  110, 


ENGLAND  IN  1760:  MANUFACTURES  AND  TRADE  31 

By  degrees  he  found  it  difficult  to  get  yarn  from  the  spin- 
ners ;  ^  so  the  merchants  at  Manchester  gave  him  out  linen 
warp  and  raw  cotton,  and  the  weaver  became  dependent  on 
them.*  Finally,  the  merchant  would  get  together  thirty  or 
forty  looms  in  a  town.  This  was  the  nearest  approach  to 
the  capitalist  system  before  the  great  mechanical  inventions. 
Coming  to  the  system  of  exchange,  we  find  it  based  on 
several  different  principles,  which  existed  side  by  side,  but 
which  were  all,  as  we  should  think,  very  simple  and  primi- 
tive. Each  trade  had  its  centre  in  a  provincial  town. 
Leeds,  for  instance,  had  its  market  twice  a  week,  first  on 
the  bridge  over  the  Aire,  afterwards  in  the  High  Street, 
where,  at  a  later  time,  two  halls  were  built.  Every  clotliier 
had  his  stall,  to  which  he  would  bring  his  cloth  (seldom 
more  than  one  piece  at  a  time,  owing  to  the  frequency  of 
the  markets).  At  six  or  seven  o'clock  a  bell  rang,  and  the 
market  began;  the  merchants  and  factors  came  in  and 
made  their  bargains  with  the  clothiers,  and  in  little  more 
than  an  hour  the  whole  business  was  over.  By  nine  the 
benches  were  cleared  and  the  hall  empty.*  There  was  a 
similar  hall  at  Halifax  for  the  worsted  trade.  But  a  large 
portion  of  the  inland  traffic  was  carried  on  at  fairs,  which 
were  slill  almost  as  important  as  in  the  Middle  itges.  The 
most  famous  of  all  was  the  great  fair  of  Sturbridge,*  which 
lasted  from  the  middle  of  August  to  the  middle  of  Sep- 
tember. Hither  came  representatives  of  all  the  great 
trades.  The  merchants  of  Lancashire  brought  their  goods 
on  a  thousand  pack-horses;  the  Eastern  counties  sent  their 
worsteds,  and  Birmingham  its  hardware.  An  immense 
quantity  of  wool  was  sold,  orders  being  taken  by  the  whole- 
sale dealers  of  London.  In  fact,  a  large  part  of  the  home 
trade  found  its  way  to  this  market.'  There  were  also  the 
four  great  annual  fairs,  which  retained  the  ancient  title  of 
'marts,'  at  Lynn,  Boston,  Gainsborough,  and  Beverley.' 

»  Baines,  p.  115.  Ure's  Cotton  Manufacturt  (1836),  i.  192,  193.  The 
weaver  would  walk  three  or  four  milei  ia  &  morning,  and  call  on  many 
apianers  before  he  could  get  work  enoogh  for  the  day. — Compare  Young'a 
Northern  Tour,  iii.  189. 

*  Baines,  p.  104  n.  »  Defoe's  Tour,  iii.  124-126. 

*  Near  Chesterton,  in  Cambridgeshire. 

»  Defoe's  Tour,  i.  91-96.  •  Ibid.,  iii.  16,  17. 


32  THE  INDUSTRIAL  REVOLUTION 

The  link  between  these  fairs  and  the  chief  industrial 
centres  was  furnished  by  travelling  merchants.  Some 
would  go  from  Leeds  with  droves  of  pack-horses  to  all  the 
fairs  and  market-towns  throughout  England.^  In  the 
market-towns  they  sold  to  the  shops  ;  elsewhere  they  would 
deal  directly  with  the  consumer,  like  the  Manchester  mer- 
chants, who  sent  their  pack-horses  the  round  of  the  farm- 
houses, buying  wool  or  other  commodities  in  exchange  for 
their  finished  goods.  Sometimes  the  Loudon  merchants 
would  come  to  the  manufacturers,  paying  their  guineas  down 
at  once,  and  taking  away  the  purchases  themselves.  So  too 
in  the  Birmingham  lock  trade,  chapmen  would  go  round  with 
pack-horses  to  buy  from  manufacturers ;  in  the  brass  trade 
likewise  the  manufacturer  stayed  at  home,  and  the  mer- 
chant came  round  with  cash  in  his  saddle-bags,  and  put  the 
brasswork  which  he  purchased  into  them,  though  in  some 
cases  he  would  order  it  to  be  sent  by  carrier.' 

Ready  cash  was  essential,  for  banking  was  very  little 
developed.  The  Bank  of  England  existed,  but  before  1759 
issued  no  notes  of  leas  value  than  £20.  By  a  law  of  1709 
no  other  bank  of  more  than  six  partners  was  allowed  ;  and 
in  1750,  according  to  Burke,  there  were  not  more  than 
'twelve  bankers'  shops  out  of  London.'*  The  Clearing- 
House  was  not  established  tiU  1775. 

Hampered  as  the  inland  trade  was  by  imperfect  com- 
munications, extraordinary  efforts  were  made  to  promote 
exchange.  It  is  striking  to  find  waste  silk  from  London 
made  into  silk-yarn  at  Kendal  and  sent  back  again,*  or 
cattle  brought  from  Scotland  to  Norfolk  to  be  fed.**  Many 
districts,  however,  still  remained  completely  excluded,  so 
that  foreign  products  never  reached  them  at  all.  Even  at 
the  beginning  of  this  century  the  Yorkshire  yeoman,  as 
described  by  Southey,'  was  ignorant  of  sugar,  potatoes,  and 
cotton ;  the  Cumberland  dalesman,  as  he  appears  in  Words- 
worth's Guide  to  the  Lakes}  lived  entirely  on  the  produce  of 

1  Dejoe's  Tour,  iii.  126. 
'  Timmins,  p.  241. 

*  Letter  on  a  Regicide  Peace,  Burke's  Worha  (Bohn's  edition),  v.  197. 

*  Northern  Tour,  iii.  135. 

•  Defoe's  Tour,  i.  61 ;  40,000  were  fed  in  Norfolk  every  year. 

•  The  Doctor,  o.  ir.  »  Prose  Works,  ii,  262,  263. 


ENGLAND  IN  1760 :  MANUFACTURES  AND  TRADE  33 

his  farm.  It  was  this  domestic  system  which  the  great 
socialist  writers  Sismondi  and  Lassalle  had  in  their  minds 
when  they  inveighed  against  the  modern  organisation  of 
industry.  Those  who  lived  under  it,  they  pointed  out, 
though  poor,  were  on  the  whole  prosperous ;  over-produc- 
tion was  absolutely  impossible.^  Yet  at  the  time  of  which 
I  am  speaking,  many  of  the  evils  which  modem  Socialists 
lament  were  already  visible,  especially  in  those  industries 
which  produced  for  the  foreign  market  Already  there 
were  complaints  of  the  competition  of  men  who  pushed 
themselves  into  the  market  to  take  advantage  of  high 
prices ;  already  we  hear  of  fluctuations  of  trade  and  irregu- 
larity of  employment.'  The  old  simple  conditions  of  pro- 
duction and  exchange  were  on  the  eve  of  disappearance 
before  the  all-corroding  force  of  foreign  trade.  ^ 

The  home  trade  was  still  indeed  much  greater  in  propor- 
tion than  now ;  but  the  exports  had  grown  from  about 
£7,000,000  at  the  beginning  of  the  century*  to  £14,500,000 
in  1760.  During  that  interval  great  changes  had  taken 
place  in  the  channels  of  foreign  commerce.  In  1700 
Holland  was  our  great  market,  taking  more  than  one-third 
of  all  our  exports,  but  in  1760  the  proportion  was  reduced 
to  about  one-seventh.     Portugal,  which  in  1703  took  one- 

^  '  L«  paysan  qui  fait  avec  sea  enfants  tout  I'ouvrage  de  son  petit  herit- 
age, qui  ne  pale  de  fermage  k  personne  au  dessua  de  iui,  ni  de  salaire  k 
pereonne  au  dessous,  qui  r^gle  sa  production  sur  sa  consommation,  qui 
mauge  son  propre  bl^,  Doit  son  propre  >'iD,  se  revftt  de  son  chanvre  et  de 
ses  lainea,  se  soucie  peu  de  counattre  lea  prix  du  march^,  car  il  a  peu  k 
vendre  et  peu  a  acheter.' — Siamondi,  Bconomie  Politiqxu,  Eesai  ilL  But 
see  Young's  Northern  Tour,  iii.  189. 

*  In  1719  it  is  first  asserted  that  '  the  grand  cause  of  the  weavers  want- 
ing work  ia  the  covetousnesa  of  both  masters  and  journeymen  in  taking  so 
many  prentices  for  the  sake  of  the  money  they  have  with  them,  not  con- 
sidering whether  they  shall  have  employment  for  them  or  not,'  In  1737 
we  find  a  writer  lamenting  that  the  factcra  '  set  up  people  to  act  aa 
master-clothiers,  on  their  stock,  during  any  little  glut  of  businees, '  to  the 
great  disadvantage  of  those  who  '  employ  the  poor  in  good  and  bad  times 
alike.'  .  .  .  '  And  hence  more  people  are  admitted  into  trade  than  the 
trade  can  possibly  maintain  ;  which  opens  a  new  door  to  the  tumults  and 
riots  so  lately  felt.' — Smith's  Memoirs,  ii.  1S6,  313. 

*  The  British  Merc}uint  calculated  that  the  export  trade  was  one-sixth 
of  the  home-trade,  or  £7,000,000. — Smith's  Memoirt,  ii.  112.  Burke  poa- 
aessed  a  MS.  of  Davenant,  which  gave  the  eiporta  in  1703  at  £6,552,019. 
—  Vi'orhi  i.  221. 


34  THE  INDUSTRIAL  REVOLUTION 

seventh,  now  took  only  about  one-twelfth.  The  trade  with 
France  was  quite  insignificant.  On  the  other  hand,  the 
Colonies  were  now  our  chief  markets,  and  a  third  of  our 
exports  went  there.  In  1770  America  took  three-fourths  of 
all  the  manufactures  of  Manchester.^  In  17C7  the  exports 
to  Jamaica  were  nearly  as  great  as  they  had  been  to  all  the 
English  plantations  together  in  1704.'  The  shipping  trade 
had  doubled,^  and  the  ships  themselves  were  larger.  In 
1732  ships  of  750  tons  were  considered  remarkable  ;  in  1770 
there  were  many  in  Liverpool  of  900  tons ;  but  in  this  as  in 
other  branches  of  business  progress  was  still  slow,  partial, 
local,  thus  presenting  a  striking  contrast  to  the  rapid  and 
general  advance  of  the  next  half-century. 


ENGLAND   IN  1760 

THE  DECAY  OF  THE  YEOMANRY*' 

The  historical  method  not  al^rays  conservative — Changes  commonly 
attributed  to  natural  law  are  sometimes  shown  by  it  to  be  due  to 
human  injustice — The  decay  of  the  Yeomanry  a  case  in  point — The 
position  of  the  Yeomanry  in  the  seventeenth  century — Their  want 
of  political  initiative — Effect  of  the  Revolution  upon  them  —  The 
aristocracy  and  the  moneyed  class  absorb  the  land — Pressure  put 
upon  small  owners  to  sell — The  custom  of  settlement  and  primogoni- 
tare — The  effect  of  enclosures  upon  small  properties. 

It  is  a  reflection  that  must  have  occurred  to  every  one 
that  the  popular  philosophy  of  the  day,  while  in  the  region 
of  speculation  it  has  undermined  ancient  beliefs,  has  exerted 
in  the  practical  world  a  distinctly  conservative  influence. 
The  conception  of  slow  development,  according  to  definite 
laws,  undoubtedly  tends  to  strengthen  the  position  of  those 
who  offer  resistance  to  radical  changes.     It  may,  however, 

1  Northern  Tour,  iii.  194.  «  Burke's  Worlcs,  i.  278. 

•  The  capacity  of  British  shipping  in  1762  was  nearly  560,000  tons.— 
lb.,  i.  201. 

*  The  greater  part  of  this  chapter  is  taken  from  an  essay  in  Toynbco't 
own  handwriting. — En. 


ENGLAND  IN  1760 :  DECAY  OF  THE  YEOMANRY   35 

well  be  doubted  whether  the  theory  of  evolution  is  really 
such  a  support  as  it  seems  to  be  to  those  who  would  uphold 
the  existing  framework  of  society.  It  is  certainly  remark- 
able that  the  most  recent  legislation  has  been  at  once 
revolutionary  in  its  character  and  justified  by  appeals  to 
historical  experience.  I  do  not  forget  that  the  most  dis- 
tinguished exponent  of  the  doctrine  of  evolution  as  applied 
to  politics  has  developed  a  theory  of  government  opposed  to 
recent  legislative  reforms,  but  that  theory  is  an  a  priori  one. 
Those,  on  the  other  hand,  who  have  applied  the  historical 
method  to  political  economy  and  the  science  of  society,  have 
shown  an  unmistakable  disposition  to  lay  bare  the  injustice 
to  which  the  humbler  classes  of  the  community  have 
been  exposed,  and  to  defend  methods  and  institutions 
adopted  for  their  protection  which  have  never  received 
scientific  defence  before. 

The  fact  is,  that  the  more  we  examine  the  actual  course 
of  affairs,  the  more  we  are  amazed  at  the  unnecessary 
suffering  that  has  been  inflicted  upon  the  people.  No 
generalities  about  natural  law  or  inevitable  development 
can  blind  us  to  the  fact,  that  the  progress  in  which  we 
believe  has  been  won  at  the  expense  of  much  injustice  and 
wrong,  which  was  not  inevitable.  Perhaps  this  is  most  con- 
spicuous in  our  land  system,  and  we  shall  find  with  regard 
to  it,  as  with  regard  to  some  other  matters,  that  the  more 
we  accept  the  method  of  historical  inquiry,  the  more  revolu- 
tionary shall  we  tend  to  become  in  practice.  For  while  the 
modern  historical  school  of  economists  appear  to  be  only 
exploring  the  monuments  of  the  past,  they  are  really  shak- 
ing the  foundations  of  many  of  our  institutions  in  the  present. 
The  historical  method  is  often  deemed  conservative,  because 
it  traces  the  gradual  and  stately  growth  of  our  venerable 
institutions ;  but  it  may  exercise  a  precisely  opposite  influ- 
ence by  showing  the  gross  injustice  which  was  blindly  per- 
petrated during  this  growth.  The  historical  method  is 
supposed  to  prove  that  economic  changes  have  been  the 
inevitable  outcome  of  natural  laws.  It  just  as  often  proves 
them  to  have  been  brought  about  by  the  self-seeking  action 
of  dominant  classes. 

It  is  a  singular  thing  that  no  historian  has  attempted  an 


36  THE  INDUSTEIAL  REVOLUTION 

adequate  explanation  of  the  disappearance  of  the  small  free- 
holders who,  down  to  the  close  of  the  seventeenth  century, 
formed  with  their  families  one-sixth  of  the  population  of 
England,  and  whose  stubborn  determination  enabled  Crom- 
well and  Fairfax  to  bring  the  Civil  War  to  a  successful 
close.  This  neglect  is  the  more  remarkable,  as  economists 
have  so  emphatically  dwelt  upon  the  extraordinary  differ- 
ence between  the  distribution  of  landed  property  in  England 
and  in  countries  like  Germany  and  Franca  The  modern 
reformer  is  content  to  explain  the  facts  by  the  existence  in 
England  of  a  law  of  primogeniture  and  a  system  of  strict 
settlement,  but  the  explanation  is  obviously  a  superficial 
one.  To  show  why  in  England  the  small  landed  proprietors 
have  vanished,  whilst  in  Germany  and  France  they  have 
increased  and  thriven,  it  is  necessary  to  carry  our  inquiries 
far  back  into  the  history  of  law,  politics,  and  commerce. 
The  result  of  a  closer  examination  of  the  question  is  a  little 
startling,  for  we  find  that  the  present  distribution  of  landed 
property  in  England  is  in  the  main  due  to  the  existence  of 
the  system  of  political  government  which  has  made  us  a 
free  people.  And  on  the  other  hand,  the  distribution  of 
landed  property  in  France  and  Germany,  which  writer  after 
writer  points  to  as  the  great  bulwark  against  revolution,  is 
in  the  main  due  to  a  form  of  government  that  destroyed 
political  liberty  and  placed  the  people  in  subjection  to  the 
throne. 

Evidence  in  support  of  this  conclusion  is  not  difficult  to 
adduce.  The  first  fact  which  arouses  our  interest  is  that  at 
the  conclusion  of  the  seventeenth  century  it  was  estimated 
by  Gregory  King  that  there  were  180,000  freeholders  in 
England,^  and  that,  less  than  a  hundred  years  later,  the 
pamphleteers  of  the  time,  and  even  careful  writers  like 
Arthur  Young,  speak  of  the  small  freeholders  as  practi- 
cally gone.  The  bare  statement  of  this  contrast  is  in  itself 
most  impressive.  A  person  ignorant  of  our  history  during 
the  intervening  period  might  surmise  that  a  great  exter- 
minatory war  had  taken  place,  or  a  violent  social  revolution 
which  had  caused  a  transfer  of  the  property  of  one  class  to 

*  Macaulay,  following  Davenant,  thinks  this  too  high,  and  puts  them 
at  160,000.— History  of  Ewjland,  c.  ill. 


ENGLAND  IN  1760 :  DECAY  OF  THE  YEOMANEY   37 

another.  But  though  the  surmise  in  this  particular  form 
would  be  incorrect,  we  are  nevertheless  justified  in  saying 
that  a  revolution  of  incalculable  importance  had  taken  place, 
— a  revolution,  though  so  silent,  of  as  great  importance  as 
the  political  revolution  of  1831.  'The  able  and  substantial 
freeholders,*  described  by  Whitelock,  'the  freeholders  and 
freeholders'  sons,  well  armed  within  with  the  satisfaction  of 
their  own  good  consciences,  and  without  by  iron  arms,  who 
stood  firmly  and  charged  desperately,' — this  devoted  class, 
who  had  broken  the  power  of  the  king  and  the  squires  in  the 
Civil  Wars,  were  themselves,  within  a  hundred  years  from 
that  time,  being  broken,  dispersed,  and  driven  off  the  land. 
Numerous  and  prosperous  in  the  fifteenth  century,  they 
had  suffered  something  by  the  enclosures  of  the  sixteenth ; 
but  though  complaints  are  from  time  to  time  made  in  the 
seventeenth  of  the  laying  together  of  farms,  there  is  no 
evidence  to  show  that  their  nrmber  underwent  any  great 
diminution  during  that  time.  In  the  picture  of  country 
life  which  we  find  in  the  literature  of  the  first  years  of  the 
eighteenth  century,  the  small  freeholder  is  still  a  prominent 
figure.  Sir  Roger  de  Coverley,  in  riding  to  Quarter  Sessions, 
points  to  the  two  yeomen  who  are  riding  in  front  of  him, 
and  Defoe,  in  his  admirable  Tour  through  England,  first 
published  a  few  years  later,  describes  with  satisfaction  the 
number  and  prosperity  of  the  Grey-coats  of  Kent  (as  they 
were  called  from  their  home-spun  garments),  whose  political 
power  forced  the  gentlemen  to  treat  them  with  circumspec- 
tion and  deference.^  '  Of  the  freeholders  of  England,'  says 
Chamberlayne,  in  the  State  of  Great  Britain}  first  published 
towards  the  close  of  the  seventeenth  century,  'there  are 
more  in  number  and  richer  than  in  any  country  of  the  like 
extent  in  Europe.  £40  or  £50  a  year  is  very  ordinary, 
£100  or  £200  in  some  counties  is  not  rare;  sometimes  in 
Kent,  and  in  the  Weald  of  Sussex,  £500  or  £600  per 
annum,  and  £3000  or  £4000  stock.'  The  evidence  is  con- 
clusive that  up  to  the  Eevolution  of  1688  the  freeholders 
were  in  most  parts  of  the  country  an  important  feature  in 
social  life. 

*  Tour,  L  pp.  159, 160.   At  election  timcB  1400  or  1500  would  troop  into 
M»id»tone  to  give  their  rotea.        »  Part  I.  book  iii,  p.  176,  ed.  1737. 


38  THE  INDUSTRIAL  REVOLUTION 

If,  however,  we  ask  whether  they  had  possessed,  as  a 
class,  any  political  initiative,  we  must  answer  in  the  nega- 
tive. In  the  lists  of  the  Eastern  Counties'  Association, 
formed  in  the  Civil  War  (the  eastern  counties  were  the  dis- 
tricts, perhaps,  where  the  freeholders  were  strongest),  we 
find  no  name  which  has  not  appended  to  it  the  title  of  gentle- 
man or  esquire.  The  small  landed  proprietor,  though 
courageous  and  independent  in  personal  character,  was 
ignorant,  and  incapable  himself  of  taking  the  lead.  There 
was  little  to  stimulate  his  mind  in  his  country  life;  in 
agriculture  he  pursued  the  same  methods  as  his  forefathers, 
was  full  of  prejudices,  and  difficult  to  move.  The 
majority  of  this  class  had  never  travelled  beyond  their 
native  village  or  homestead  and  the  neighbouring  market 
town.  In  some  districts  those  freeholders  were  also 
artisans,  especially  in  the  eastern  counties,  which  were  still 
the  richest  part  of  the  country,  and  the  most  subject  to 
foreign  influence.  But,  on  the  whole,  if  we  may  judge  from 
the  accounts  of  rather  later  times,  the  yeomen,  though 
thriving  in  good  seasons,  often  lived  very  hard  lives,  and 
remained  stationary  in  their  habits  and  ways  of  thinking 
from  generation  to  generation.  They  were  capable  in  the 
Civil  War,  under  good  leadership,  of  proving  themselves 
the  most  powerful  body  in  the  kingdom ;  but  after  consti- 
tutional government  had  been  secured,  and  the  great  land- 
owners were  independent  of  their  support,  they  sank  into 
political  insignificance.  The  Revolution  of  1688,  which 
brought  to  a  conclusion  the  constitutional  struggle  of 
the  seventeenth  century,  was  accomplished  without  their 
aid,  and  paved  the  way  for  their  extinction.  A  revolu- 
tion in  agricultural  life  was  the  price  paid  for  political 
liberty. 

At  first,  however,  the  absorption  of  the  small  freeholders 
went  on  slowly.  The  process  of  disappearance  has  been 
continuous  from  about  1700  to  the  present  day,  but  it  is 
not  true  to  say,  as  Karl  Marx  does,^  that  the  yeomanry  had 
disappeared  by  the  middle  of  the  eighteenth  century.  It 
was  not  till  the  very  period  which  we  are  considering,  that 
is  to  say  about  1760,  that  the  process  of  extinction  became 

'  Lt  Capital  (French  translation),  p.  319. 


ENGLAND  IN  1760:  DECAY  OF  THE  YEOMANRY  39 

rapid.  There  is  conclusive  evidence  that  many  were  still 
to  be  found  about  1770.  There  were  at  that  time  still 
9000  freeholders  in  Kent^ 

Even  as  late  as  1807,  estates  in  Essex,  if  divided,  were 
bought  by  farmers  at  high  prices,  and  there  was  some  pro- 
spect of  landed  property  coming  back  to  the  conditions  of 
a  century  before,  'when  our  inferior  gentry  resided  upon 
their  estates  in  the  country ' ;  and  about  the  same  date  there 
were  in  Oxfordshire 'many  proprietors  of  a  middling  size, 
and  many  small  proprietors,  particularly  in  the  open  fields.'* 
They  were  especially  strong  in  Cumberland,  the  West 
Riding,  and  parts  of  the  East  Riding.  In  the  Vale  of 
Pickering  in  1788  nearly  the  whole  district  belonged  to 
them,  and  no  great  landowner  had  been  able  to  get  a 
footing.'  But  in  1788  this  was  already  an  exceptional 
case,  and  in  other  writers  of  that  period  we  find  a  general 
lament  at  the  disappearance  of  the  yeoman.  Arthur  Young 
'  sincerely  regrets  the  loss  of  that  set  of  men  who  are  called 
yeomen  .  .  .  who  really  kept  up  the  independence  of  the 
nation,*  and  is  '  loth  to  see  their  lands  now  in  the  hands  of 
monopolising  lords;'*  and  in  1787  he  admits  that  they  had 
practically  disappeared  from  most  parts  of  the  country.* 
And  with  the  yeomen  went  the  small  squires,  victims  of 
the^aine  causes.' 

These  causes,  as  I  stated  above,  are  to  besought  less  in 


'  Kenny'B  History  of  Primogeniture  (1878),  p.  52. 

'  Hewlett  in  Youug's  General  View  of  the  Agriculture  of  Essex  (1807), 
i.  40  ;   View  of  the  Agriculture  of  Oxfordshire  (1809),  p.  16. 

'  *  The  major  part  of  the  lands  of  the  district  are  the  property,  and  in 
general  are  in  the  occupation,  of  yeomanry ;  a  circumstance  this  which 
it  would  be  diflBcult  to  equal  in  so  large  a  district.  The  township  of 
Pickering  is  a  singular  instance.  It  contaiiis  about  300  freeholders, 
principally  occupying  their  own  small  estates,  many  of  which  have  fallen 
down  by  lineal  descent  from  the  original  purchasers.  No  grext  man, 
nor  scarcely  an  esquire,  has  yet  been  able  to  get  a  footing  in  the  parish  ; 
or,  if  any  one  has,  the  custom  of  portioning  younger  sons  and  daughters 
by  a  division  of  lands  has  reduced  to  its  original  atoms  the  estates  which 
may  have  been  accumulated.' — Marshall'a  Rural  Economy  of  Yorkshire 
(1788),  i.  20. 

•  Inquiry  into  the  present  Price  of  Provision*  and  the  Size  of  fa7Tns 
(1773),  pp.  126,  139  et  seq. 

•  Travels  in  France  (Dublin  edition,  1793),  i.  86,  ii.  262. 

•  See  extracts  from  Howlett,  referred  to  above. 


40  THE  INDUSTRIAL  REVOLUTION 

econpinical  than  in  social  and  political  facts.  The  chief  of 
them  was  our  peculiar  form  of  government.  After  the 
Revolution  the  lauded  gentry  were  practically  supreme. 
Not  only  national  but  local  administration  was  entirely  in 
their  hands,  and,  as  a  natural  consequence,  land,  being  the 
foundation  of  social  and  political  influence,  was  eagerly 
sought  after.  We  may  contrast  France  and  Prussia,  where 
the  landowners  had  no  political  power  as  such,  and  where, 
in  consequence,  small  properties  remained  unassailed.  The 
second  fact  is  the  enormous  development  of  the  mercantile 
and  moneyed  interest.  The  merchants  could  only  obtain 
political  power  and  social  position  by  becoming  landowners. 
It  is  true  that  Swift  says  that  '  the  power  which  used  to 
follow  land  had  gone  over  to  money,'  and  that  the  great 
Turkey  merchants,  like  Addison's  Sir  Andrew  Freeport, 
occupied  a  good  position ;  but  few  mere  merchants  were  in 
Parliament,^  and  Dr.  Johnson  made  the  significant  remark 
that '  an  English  merchant  is  a  new  species  of  gentleman.'  * 
To  make  himself  a  gentleman,  therefore,  the  merchant  who 
had  accumulated  his  wealth  in  the  cities,  which,  as  we 
have  seen,  were  growing  rapidly  during  the  first  half  of  the 
eighteenth  century  with  an  expanding  commerce,  bought 
land  as  a  matter  of  course.  Hence  the  mercantile  origin  of 
much  of  our  nobility.  James  Lowther,  created  Earl  of 
Lonsdale  in  1784,  was  great-grandson  of  a  Turkey  mer- 
chant ;  the  ancestor  of  the  Barings  was  a  clothier  in  Devon- 
shire; Anthony  Petty,  father  of  Sir  W.  Petty,  and  the 
ancestor  on  the  female  side  of  the  Petty-Fitzmaurices,  was 
a  clothier  at  Romsey,  in  Hampshire ;  Sir  Josiah  Child's  son 
became  Earl  of  Tilney.'  The  landowners  in  the  West  of 
England,  '  who  now,'  in  Defoe's  words, '  carry  their  heads  so 
high,'  made  their  fortunes  in  the  clothing  trade.  And  not 
only  did  a  new  race  of  landowners  thus  spring  up,  but  the 
old  families  enriched  themselves,  and  so  were  enabled  to 
buy  more  land  by  intermarriage  with  the  commercial  mag- 

^  Thrale,  the  brewer,  father  of  Johnson's  friend,  was  one  of  the  excep- 
tions. He  was  Member  for  Southwark  and  High  SheriflF  of  Surrey  in 
1733.  He  died  in  1758,— Bos  well's  Life  of  Johnson  (7th  edition),  ii.  106, 
107.  «  Ibid.,  p,  108  n. 

*  Defoe's  Complete  Tradetman  (ed.  Chambers,  1839),  p.  7*. 


ENGLAND  IN  1760:  DECAY  OF  THE  YEOMANRY   41 

nates.  The  Eitzmaurices,  for  instance,  inherited  the  wealth 
of  the  Pettys:  Child's  daughter  married  the  Marquis  of 
Worcester,  and,  by  a  second  marriage,  Lord  Grenville  of 
Potheridge ;  Lord  Conway  and  Walpole  married  daughters 
of  John  Shorter,  merchant  of  London,  'I  think  I  remem- 
ber,' said  Sir  R.  Temple  between  1675  and  1700,  'the  first 
noble  families  that  married  into  the  City  for  money.' ^ 
'  Trade,'  said  Defoe,  '  is  so  far  here  from  being  inconsistent 
with  a  gentleman,  that,  in  short,  trade  in  England  makes 
gentlemen;  for,  after  a  generation  or  two,  the  tradesmen's 
children,  or  at  least  their  grandchildren,  come  to  be  as  good 
gentlemen,  statesmen,  parliament-men,  privy-councillors, 
judges,  bishops,  and  noblemen,  as  those  of  the  highest  birth, 
and  the  most  ancient  families.'*  Contrast  this  fusion  of 
classes  with  the  French  society  of  the  last  century,  with  its 
impoverished  nobility,  living  often  on  the  seigncrial  rights 
and  rent-charges  of  their  alienated  estates,  but  hardly  ever 
intermarrying  with  the  commercial  classes;  or  that  of 
Prussia,  where  the  two  classes  remained  entirely  separate, 
and  could  not  even  purchase  one  another's  land. 

I  have  established  two  facts  :  the  special  reason  for  desir- 
ing land  after  the  Revolution  as  a  condition  of  political  power 
and  social  prestige,  and  the  means  of  buying  land  on  the 
part  of  the  wealthy  merchants  or  of  the  nobility  and  greater 
gentry  enriched  by  matrimonial  alliances  with  the  great 
commercial  class.  Now  here  is  a  piece  of  evidence  to  show 
that  it  was  the  accepted  policy  of  the  large  landowners  to 
buy  out  the  yeoman.  The  land  agent,  whom  I  have  so 
often  quoted,  lays  down  as  a  maxim  for  the  model  steward 
that  he  '  should  not  forget  to  make  the  best  inquiry  into  the 
disposition  of  the  freeholders,  within  or  near  any  of  his 
lord's  manors,  to  sell  their  lands,  that  he  may  use  his  best 
endeavours  to  purchase  them  at  as  reasonable  a  price  as 
may  be  for  his  lord's  advantage  and  convenience.'  * 

On  the  other  hand,  as  a  result  of  the  supremacy  of  the 
great  landowners  in  Parliament,  their  own  estates  were 
artificially  protected.      The  system  of  strict  settlements, 

^  Temple's  Mitcellaniu,  qnoted  in  Lecky's  History  of  England,  i.  193, 
194.  '  Defoe's  Tradi-wian,  loc.  cit. 

»  Laurence's  Duty  of  a  Steward  (1727),  p.  38. 


42  THE  INDUSTRIAL  REVOLUTION 

introduced  by  Sir  Orlando  Bridgman  in  1666,  though  not  so 
important  as  it  is  often  made  out  to  be,  prevented  much 
land  from  coming  into  the  market,  though  it  did  not  pre- 
vent merchants  from  buying  when  they  wished.  The 
custom  of  primogeniture  checked  the  division  of  estates  by 
leading  to  the  disuse  of  inheritance  by  gavelkind,  and 
similar  customs.  In  Cumberland  primogeniture  was  intro- 
duced among  the  freeholders  in  the  sixteenth  century ;  in 
Kent  there  was,  in  1740,  nearly  as  much  gavelkind  as 
before  the  disgavelling  Acts  began,  but  thirty  years  later  it 
was  being  superseded  by  primogeniture.  It  was  during 
these  thirty  years  that  the  process  of  concentration  in  that 
county  first  assumed  formidable  proportions.  In  Pickering, 
on  the  other  hand,  where  the  law  of  equal  division  still  held 
its  own,  small  landowners  also,  as  we  have  seen,  survived 
after  their  extinction  in  most  parts  of  England. 

A  third  result  of  landlord  supremacy  was  the  manner  in 
which  the  common-field  system  was  broken  up.  Allusion 
has  already  been  made  to  enclosures,  and  enclosures  meant 
a  break-up  of  the  old  system  of  agriculture  and  a  redistri- 
bution of  the  laud.  This  is  a  problem  which  involves 
delicate  questions  of  justice.  In  Prussia,  the  change  was 
effected  by  impartial  legislation ;  in  England,  the  work  was 
done  by  the  strong  at  the  expense  of  the  weak.  The 
change  from  common  to  individual  ownership,  which  was 
economically  advantageous,  was  carried  out  in  an  iniquitous 
manner,  and  thereby  became  socially  harmful.  Great 
injury  was  thus  done  to  the  poor  and  ignorant  freeholders 
who  lost  their  rights  in  the  common  lands.  In  Pickering, 
in  one  instance,  the  lessee  of  the  tithes  applied  for  an 
enclosure  of  the  waste.  The  small  freeholders  did  their 
best  to  oppose  him,  but,  having  little  money  to  carry  on  the 
suit,  they  were  overruled,  and  the  lessee,  who  had  bought 
the  support  of  the  landless  'house-owners'  of  the  parish, 
took  the  land  from  the  freeholders  and  shared  the  spoil  with 
the  cottagers.^  It  was  always  easy  for  the  steward  to 
harass  the  small  owners  till  he  forced  them  to  sell,  like 
Addison's  Touchy,  whose  income  had  been  reduced  by  law- 
suits from  £80  to  £30,  though  in  this  case  it  is  true  he  had 
*  Marshall'i  rorkshire,  p.  64. 


ENGLAND  IN  1760 :  DECAY  OF  THE  YEOMANRY  43 

only  himself  to  blame.^  The -enclosure,  of  waste  land,  too, 
did  great  damage  to  the  small  freeholders,  who,  without  the 
right  of  grazing,  naturally  found  it  so  much  the  more  diffi- 
cult to  pay  their  way. 

Though  the  economical  causes  of  the  disappearance  of 
the  yeomen  were  comparatively  unimportant,  they  served 
to  accelerate  the  change.  Small  arable  farms  would  not 
pay,  and  must,  in  any  case,  TTave  been  thrown  together. 
The  little  farmers,  according  to  Arthur  Young,  worked 
harder  and  were  to  all  intents  and  purposes  as  low  in  the 
comforts  of  life  as  the  day-labourers.  But  their  wretched- 
ness was  entirely  owing  to  their  occupying  arable  instead 
of  grass  lands.'  And  apart  from  this,  undoubtedly,  the  new 
class  of  large  farmers  were  superior,  in  some  respects,  to  the 
too  unprogressive  yeomen, — 'quite  a  different  sort  of  men 
...  in  point  of  knowledge  and  ideas,' '  with  whose  im- 
proved methods  of  agriculture  the  yeomen  found  it  difficult 
to  compete.  A  further  economic  cause  which  tended  to 
depress  many  of  the  yeomen  was  the  gradual  destruction 
of  domestic  industries,  which  injured  them  as  it  injures 
the  German  peasant  at  the  present  day.  In  Cumberland 
the  yeomen  began  to  disappear  when  the  spinning-wheel 
was  silenced.*  The  decay  of  the  home  manufacture  of 
cloth  seems  to  have  considerably  affected  the  Grey-coats 
of  Kent.  And_  finally,  as  the  small  towns  and  villages 
decayed,  owing  to  the  consolidation  of  farms  and  of  industry, 
the  small  freeholders  lost  their  market,  for  the  badness  of 
the  roads  made  it  difficult  for  them  to  send  their  produce 
far.  Hence  the  small  freeholders  survived  longest  where 
they  owned  dairy-farms,  as  in  Cumberland  and  the  West 
Riding,  and  where  domestic  industry  flourished,  and  they 
had  a  market  for  their  products  in  their  own  neighbour- 
hood. 

When  once  the  ranks  of  the  yeomanry  had  been  appreci- 

*  Spectator,  No.  122. 

"  Travels  in  France  (Dnblin  ed.  1793),  ii.  262.  Hural  Economy,  Essays 
3  and  4. 

»  View  of  the  Agriculture  oj  Oxfordshire,  p.  269.  Cf.  Hewlett,  i.  65  : 
*hia  underBtaoding  and  his  conversation  are  not  at  all  superior  to  those 
of  the  common  labourers,  if  even  ecual  to  them.' 

*  See  Wordsworth's  Ouide  to  the  'Lakes,  p.  268. 


44  THE  INDUSTRIAL  REVOLUTION 

ably  thinned,  the  process  of  extinction  went  on  with  ever- 
growing rapidity.  The  survivors  became  isolated.  They 
would  have  no  one  of  their  own  station  to  whom  they  could 
maiTy  their  daughters,  and  would  become  more  and  more 
willing  to  sell  their  lands,  however  strong  the  passion  of 
possession  might  be  in  some  places.*  The  more  enterpris- 
ing, too,  would  move  off  to  the  towns  to  make  their  fortunes 
there,  just  as  at  the  present  day  the  French  peasants  are 
attracted  to  the  more  interesting  and  exciting  life  of  the 
town.  Thus  Sir  Robert  Peel's  grandfather  was  originally  a 
yeoman  farming  his  own  estate,  but  being  of  an  inventive 
turn  of  mind  he  took  to  cotton  manufacturing  and  printing.^ 
This  was  particularly  the  case  with  the  small  squires,  who 
grew  comparatively  poorer  and  poorer,  and  found  it  increas- 
ingly difficult  to  keep  pace  with  the  rise  in  the  standard 
of  comfort.  Already,  at  the  end  of  the  seventeenth  century, 
the  complaint  had  been  raised  that  the  landowners  were 
beginning  to  live  in  the  county  towns.  Afterwards,  the 
more  wealthy  came  up  to  London ;  Sir  Roger  de  Coverley 
had  a  house  in  Soho  Square.  The  small  country  gentle- 
man felt  the  contrast  between  him  and  his  richer  neigh- 
bours more  and  more ;  and  as  he  had  none  of  the  political 
power  attaching  to  land — for  the  great  landowners  had  the 
whole  administration  in  their  hands  —  there  was  every 
inducement  for  him  to  sell  and  invest  his  money  in  a  more 
profitable  manner. 

To  summarise  the  movement :  it  is  probable  that  the  yeo- 
men would  in  any  case  have  partly  disappeared,  owing  to 
the  inevitable  working  of  economic  causes.  But  these  alone 
would  not  have  led  to  their  disappearance  on  so  large  a 
scale.  It  was  the  political  conditions  of  the  age,  the  over- 
whelming importance  of  land,  which  made  it  impossible  for 
the  yeoman  to  keep  his  grip  upon  the  soil. 

*  See  Wordsworth's  story  of  the  freeholder  »nd  his  tree,  in  Harriet 
Martineau's  Autobiography,  ii.  2.33. 
»  Baines.  pp.  262,  263. 


ENGLAND  IN  1760:  THE  WAGE-EAENEES       45 

VI 

ENGLAND  IN  1760 
THE  CONDITION  OF  THE  WAOEEARNERS 

The  Agricultural  Labourer  —  Improvement  in  hia  condition  since  the 
beginning  of  the  century — Comparison  of  hia  position  in  1750  and 
1850 — Contrast  between  North  and  South — Inequality  of  wages  and 
its  cause — The  position  of  the  artisans — Great  rise  in  their  wages 
since  1760 — Certain  disadvantages  of  their  condition  now,  as  com- 
pared with  that  existing  then. 

The  condition  of  the  agricultural  labourer  had  very  much 
improved  since  the  beginning  of  the  century.  In  the  seven- 
teenth century  his  average  daily  wage  had  been  lOJd., 
while  the  average  price  of  corn  had  been  383.  2d.  During 
the  first  sixty  years  of  the  eighteenth  century  his  average 
wages  were  Is.,  the  price  of  corn  32s.^  Thus,  while  the 
price  of  corn  had,  thanks  to  a  succession  of  good  seasons, 
fallen  16  per  cent,  wages  had  risen  to  about  an  equal 
extent,  and  the  labourer  was  thus  doubly  benefited.  Adam 
Smith  attributes  this  advance  in  prosperity  to  *  an  increase 
in  the  demand  for  labour,  arising  from  the  great  and  almost 
universal  prosperity  of  the  country ' ; '  but  at  the  same  time 
he  allows  that  wealth  had  only  advanced  gradually,  and 
with  no  great  rapidity.  The  real  solution  is  to  be  found  in 
tlie  slow  rate  of  increase  in  the  numbers  of  the  people. 
Wealth  had  indeed  grown  slowly,  but  its  growth  had  never- 
theless been  more  rapid  than  that  of  population. 

The  improvement  in  the  condition  of  the  labourer  was 
thus  due  to  an  increase  in  real  and  not  only  in  nominal 
wages.  It  is  true  that  certain  articles,  such  as  soap,  salt, 
candles,  leather,  fermented  liquors,  had,  chiefly  owing  to  the 
taxes  laid  on  them,  become  a  good  deal  dearer,  and  were 
consumed  in  very  small  quantities ;  but  the  enhanced  prices 
of  these  things  were  more  than  counterbalanced  by  the 
greater  cheapness  of  grain,  potatoes,  turnips,  carrots,  cab- 

^  Nicholls,  History  of  tJu  Poor  Laws  (1854),  ii  64,  65,  quoting  from 
Arthur  Young. 
•  Wealth  of  Nations,  book  I  ch.  xi.  (toI.  i.  211). 


46  THE  INDUSTRIAL  REVOLUTION 

bages,  apples,  onions,  linen  and  woollen  cloth,  instruments 
made  of  the  coarser  metals,  and  household  furniture.^ 
Wheaten  bread  had  largely  superseded  rye  and  barley 
bread,  wljich  were  'looked  upon  with  a  sort  of  horror,' 
wheat  being  as  cheap  as  rye  and  barley  had  been  in  former 
times.^  Every  poor  family  drank  tea  once  a  day  at  least — 
a  'pernicious  commodity,'  a  'vile  superfluity,'  in  Arthur 
Young's  eyes.'  Their  consumption  of  meat  was  'pretty 
considerable';  that  of  cheese  was  'immense.'*  In  1737 
the  day-labourers  of  England,  *  by  their  large  wages  and 
cheapness  of  all  necessaries,'  enjoyed  better  dwellings,  diet, 
and  apparel  in  England,  than  the  husbandmen  or  farmers 
did  in  other  countries.'*  The  middle  of  the  eighteenth 
century  was  indeed  about  his  best  time,  though  a  decline 
soon  set  in.  By  1771  his  condition  had  already  been  some- 
what affected  by  the  dear  years  immediately  preceding, 
when  prices  had  risen  much  faster  than  wages,  although 
the  change  had  as  yet,  according  to  Young,  merely  cut  off 
his  superfluous  expenditure.*  By  the  end  of  the  century 
men  had  begun  to  look  back  with  regret  upon  this  epoch 
in  the  history  of  the  agricultural  labourer  as  one  of  a 
vanished  prosperity.  At  no  time  since  the  passing  of  the 
43d  of  Elizabeth,  wrote  Eden  in  1796,  'could  the  labouring 
classes  acquire  such  a  portion  of  the  necessaries  and  con- 
veniences of  life  by  a  day's  work,  as  they  could  before  the 
late  unparalleled  advance  in  the  price  of  the  necessaries  of 
life.'' 

^  Wealth  of  Nations,  book  i.  ch.  viii.  (vol.  i.  82). 

2  Harte's  Essays  on  Hushandrj/,  pp.  176,  177,  quoted  by  A.  Young, 
Farmer's  Letters  (3rd  edition,  1771),  i.  207,  208.  In  the  north,  rye  and 
barley  bread  alone  were  still  consumed.  [Wheaten  bread  was  certainly 
unknown  among  the  Norfolk  labourers  at  the  beginning  of  this  century.] 

'  Ibid.,  pp.  200,  297.  Much  of  the  tea  was  very  bad,  and  smuggled. 
A  family  at  Epsom  made  a  quarter  of  a  pound  last  them  for  a  fortnight. 
— Eden,  iii.  710.  Still  the  imports  had  increased  enormously,  from 
141,995  lbs.  in  1711,  to  2,515,875  lbs.  in  1759-1760.— NichoUs,  ii.  59. 

*  Travels  in  France  (Dublin  edition,  1793),  ii.  313. 

»  Chamberlayne,  State  of  Great  Britain  (1737),  p.  177.  He  says  that 
'the  meanest  mechanics  and  husbandmen  want  not  silver  spoons  and 
some  silver  cups  in  their  houses. ' 

•  Farmer's  Letters,  i.  203-205 ;  <f.  also  Hewlett,  quoted  in  Eden's 
State  of  the  Poor,  i.  384-385. 

'  Eden,  i.  478. 


ENGLAND  IN  1760:  THE  WAGE-EARNERS      47 

Nor  were  high  wages  and  cheap  food  their  only  advan- 
tages. Their  cottages  were  often  rent-free,  being  built 
upon  the  waste.  Each  cottage  had  its  piece  of  ground 
attached,^  though  the  piece  was  often  a  very  small  one,  for 
the  Act  of  Elizabeth,  providing  that  every  cottage  should 
have  four  acres  of  land,  was  doubtless  unobserved,  and  was 
repealed  in  1775.  Their  common  rights,  besides  providing 
fuel,  enabled  them  to  keep  cows  and  pigs  and  poultry  on 
the  waste,  and  sheep  on  the  fallows  and  stubbles.  But 
these  rights  were  already  being  steadily  curtailed,  and 
there  was  'an  open  war  against  cottages,''  consequent  on 
the  tendency  to  consolidate  holdings  into  large  sheep-farms. 
It  was  becoming  customary,  too,  for  unmarried  labourers  to 
be  boarded  in  the  farmers'  houses. 

On  the  whole,  the  agricultural  labourer,  at  any  rate  in 
the  south  of  England,  was  much  better  off  in  the  middle  of 
the  eighteenth  century  than  his  descendants  were  in  the 
middle  of  the  nineteenth.  At  the  later  date  wages  were 
actually  lower  in  Suffolk,  Essex,  and  perhaps  parts  of  "Wilts, 
than  they  were  at  the  former ;  in  Berks  they  were  exactly 
the  same;  in  Norfolk,  Bucks,  Gloucestershire,  and  South 
Wilts,  there  had  been  a  very  trifling  rise ;  with  the  exception 
of  Sussex  and  Oxfordshire,  there  was  no  county  south  of  the 
Trent  in  which  they  had  risen  more  than  one-fourth.' 
Meanwhile  rent  and  most  necessaries,  except  bread,  had 
increased  enormously  in  cost,  while  most  of  the  labourer's 
old  privileges  were  lost,  so  that  his  real  wages  had  actually 
diminished.  But  in  the  manufacturing  districts  of  the 
north  his  condition  had  improved.  While  nominal  wages 
in  the  south  had  risen  on  the  average  H  per  cent.,  here 
they  had  risen  on  the  average  66  per  cent.  In  some 
districts  the  rise  had  been  as  great  as  200  per  cent.  In 
Arthur  Young's  time  the  agricultural  wages  of  Lancashire 
were  4s.  6d. — the  lowest  rate  in  England;  in  1821  they 
had  risen  to  14s.  It  may  be  roughly  said  that  the  relative 
positions  of  the  labourer  north  and  south  of  the  Trent  had 
been  exactly  reversed  in  the  course  of  a  century. 

In  Arthur  Young's  time  the  highest  wages  were  to  be 

^  Farmer's  Lelttrs,  i.  205.  •  Ibid.,  i.  301. 

•  Caird,  English  Agriculture^  p.  513. 


48  THE  INDUSTRIAL  REVOLUTION 

found  in  Lincolnshire,  the  East  Riding,  and,  following  close 
upon  these,  the  metropolitan  and  eastern  counties.  At  first 
sight  the  high  rate  of  wages  in  the  first  two  counties  seems 
to  contradict  the  general  law  about  their  relative  condition 
in  north  and  south.  But  on  investigation  we  find  it  to  be 
due  to  exceptional  circumstances.  Arguing  on  the  deduc- 
tive method,  we  should  conjecture  a  large  demand  for  or 
a  small  supply  of  labour ;  and,  in  fact,  we  find  both  these 
influences  in  operation.  The  population  had  actually 
diminished,  in  Lincolnshire  from  64  to  58  to  the  square 
mile,  in  the  East  Riding,  from  80  to  71 ;  this  was  partly 
due  to  the  enclosures  and  the  conversion  of  arable  to 
pasture,  partly  to  the  increase  of  manufactures  in  the  West 
Riding.  Thus  the  labourers  had  been  drawn  off  to  the 
latter  at  the  same  time  that  they  were  being  driven  out  of 
the  agricultural  districts.  And  for  the  remaining  labourers 
there  was  a  great  demand  in  public  works,  such  as  turnpike- 
roads  and  agricultural  improvements  on  a  large  scale.^ 

But  there  were  many  local  variations  of  wages  which  are 
far  less  easy  to  bring  under  the  ordinary  rules  of  Political 
Economy.  There  was  often  the  greatest  inequality  in  the 
same  county.  In  Lincolnshire,  for  instance,  wages  varied 
from  12s.  3d.  to  7s.,  and  even  Gs.^  It  was  at  this  very  time 
that  Adam  Smith,  arguing  deductively  from  his  primary 
axiom  that  men  follow  their  pecuniary  interest,  enunciated 
the  law  that  wages  tend  to  an  equality  in  the  same  neigh- 
bourhood and  the  same  occupation.  Why  then  these  varia- 
tions ?  Adam  Smith  himself  partly  supplies  the  answer. 
His  law  pretends  to  exactness  only  '  when  society  is  left  to 
the  natural  course  of  things.''  Now  this  was  impossible 
when  natural  tendencies  were  diverted  by  legal  restrictions 
on  the  movement  of  labour,  such  as  the  law  of  settlement, 
which  resulted  in  confining  every  labourer  to  his  own 
parish.  But  we  must  not  seek  the  cause  of  these  irregu- 
larities of  wages  merely  in  legal  restrictions.  Apart  from 
disturbing  influences  such  as  this,  men  do  not  always  act  in 
accordance  with  their  pecuniary  interest;  there  are  other 

»  Young's  Northern  Tour,  i.  172;  Eden,  i.  329. 

*  Young's  Eastern  Tour,  iv.  312-313. 

•  Wealth  o/  Nations,  book  i.  ch.  x.  (vol.  i.  104). 


ENGLAND  IN  1760:  THE  WAGE-EARNERS       49 

influences  at  work  affecting  their  conduct.  One  of  the 
strongest  of  these  is  attachment  to  locality.  It  was  this 
influence  which  partly  frustrated  the  recent  efforts  of  the 
Labourers'  Union  to  remove  the  surplus  labour  of  the  east 
and  south  to  the  north.  Again,  there  are  apathy  and  ignor- 
ance, factors  of  immense  importance  in  determining  the 
action  of  the  uneducated  majority  of  men.  In  1872  there 
were  labourers  in  Devon  who  had  never  heard  of  Lancashire, 
where  they  might  have  been  earning  double  their  own 
wages.^  Human  beings,  as  Adam  Smith  says,  are  '  of  all 
baggage  the  most  difi&cult  to  be  transported,' '  though  their 
comparative  mobility  depends  upon  the  degree  of  their  edu- 
cation, the  state  of  communications,  and  the  industrial  con- 
ditions of  any  particular  time.  The  English  labourer  to-day 
is  far  more  easy  to  move  than  he  was  a  hundred  years  ago. 
In  a  stirring  new  country  like  America  there  is  much  more 
mobiUty  of  labour  than  in  England. 

Turning  from  the  agricultural  wage-earners  to  those 
engaged  in  manufactures,  we  find  their  condition  at  this 
period  on  the  whole  much  inferior  to  what  it  is  now.  In 
spite  of  the  widening  gulf  between  capitalist  and  labourer, 
the  status  of  the  artisan  has  distinctly  improved  since  Adam 
Smith's  time.  His  nominal  wages  have  doubled  or  trebled. 
A  carpenter  then  earned  23.  6d.  a  day ;  he  now  earns  5s.  6d. 
A  cotton  weaver  then  earned  5s.^  a  week,  he  cow  earns  20s., 
and  so  on.  But  it  is  difficult  to  compare  the  condition  of 
the  artisan  as  a  whole  at  the  two  periods,  because  so  many 
entirely  new  classes  of  workmen  have  come  into  existence 
during  the  past  century ;  for  instance,  the  engineers,  whose 
Union  now  includes  50,000  men  earning  from  25s.  to  40s.  a 
week.  And  if  wages  have  on  the  whole  very  greatly 
increased,  there  were,  on  the  other  hand,  some  obvious 
advantages  which  the  artisan  possessed  in  those  days,  but 
has  since  lost.  For  the  manufacturing  population  still 
lived  to  a  very  great  extent  in  the  country.  The  artisan 
often  had  his  small  piece  of  land,  which  supplied  him  with 

'  See  Heath'8  PeasarU  Life  in  the  West,  p.  94,  and  Clifford's  Agricultural 
Lockout  in  1874. 
'  Wealth  of  Nations,  book  i.  ch.  viii.  (vol.  i.  79). 
•  Baices,  p.  381. 

D 


50  THE  INDUSTRIAL  REVOLUTION 

wholesome  food  and  healthy  recreation.  His  wages  and 
employment  too  were  more  regular.  He  was  not  subject  to 
the  uncertainties  and  knew  nothing  of  the  fearful  sufferings 
which  his  descendants  were  to  endure  from  commercial 
fluctuations,  especially  before  the  introduction  of  free  trade. 
For  the  whole  inner  life  of  industry  was,  as  we  have  seen, 
entirely  different  from  what  it  now  is.  The  relation  be- 
tween the  workmen  and  their  employers  was  much  closer,  so 
that  in  many  industries  they  were  not  two  classes  but  one. 
As  among  the  agriculturists  the  farmer  and  labourer  lived 
much  the  same  life — for  the  capitalist  farmers  as  a  class 
were  not  yet  in  existence — and  ate  at  the  same  board,  so  in 
manufacturing  industries  the  journeyman  was  often  on  his 
way  to  become  a  master.  The  distribution  of  wealth  was, 
indeed,  in  all  respects  more  equal.  Landed  property, 
though  gradually  being  concentrated,  was  still  in  a  far 
larger  number  of  hands,  and  even  the  great  landlords 
possessed  nothing  like  their  present  riches.  They  had  no 
vast  mineral  wealth,  or  rapidly  developing  town  property. 
A  great  number  of  the  trading  industries,  too,  were  still  in 
the  han(fe  of  small  capitalists.  Great  trades,  like  the 
iron  tradJ^,  requiring  large  capital,  had  hardly  come  into 
existencJei 


VII 
THE  MERCANTILE  SYSTEM  AND  ADAM  SMITH 

Change  in  the  spirit  of  commercial  policy — The  mediaeval  idea  of  the 
State — The  regulation  of  internal  trade  and  industry — Restrictions 
upon  the  movement  of  labour — The  law  of  apprentices — Wages  and 
prices  fixed  by  authority — The  regulation  of  Foreign  Trade — 
Chartered  companies — The  Mercantile  System  and  Protection — Evils 
of  that  system — The  struggle  of  interests — Injustice  to  Ireland  and 
the  Colonies — Characteristics  of  the  Wealth  of  Nations — Its  arrange- 
ment— Adam  Smith's  cosmopolitanism  and  belief  in  self-interest. 

TuE  contrast  between  the  industrial  England  of  1760  and 
the  industrial  England  of  to-day  is  not  only  one  of  external 
conditions.  Side  by  side  with  the  revolution  which  the 
intervening  century  has  effected  in  the  methods  and  organ- 


THE  AIERCANTILE  SYSTEM  61 

isation  of  production,  there  has  taken  place  a  change  no  less 
radical  in  men's  economic  principles,  and  in  the  attitude  of 
the  State  to  individual  enterprise.  England  in  1760  was 
still  to  a  great  extent  under  the  mediaeval  system  of  minute 
and  manifold  industrial  regulations.  That  system  was 
indeed  decaying,  but  it  had  not  yet  been  superseded  by  the 
modern  principle  of  industrial  freedom.  To  understand  the 
origin  of  the  mediaeval  system  we  must  go  back  to  a  time 
when  the  State  was  still  conceived  of  as  a  religious  institu- 
tion with  ends  that  embraced  the  whole  of  human  life.  In 
an  age  when  it  was  deemed  the  duty  of  the  State  to  watch 
over  the  individual  citizen  in  all  his  relations,  and  pronde 
not  only  for  his  protection  from  force  and  fraud,  but  for  his 
eternal  welfare,  it  was  but  natural  that  it  should  attempt  to 
insure  a  legal  rate  of  interest,  fair  wages,  honest  wares. 
Things  of  vital  importance  to  man's  life  were  not  to  be  left 
to  chance  or  self-interest  to  settle.  For  no  philosophy  had 
as  yet  identified  God  and  Nature :  no  optimistic  theory  of 
the  world  had  reconciled  public  and  private  interest.  And 
at  the  same  time,  the  smallness  of  the  world  and  the  com- 
munity, and  the  comparative  simplicity  of  the  social  system 
made  the  attempt  to  regulate  the  industrial  relations  of 
men  less  absurd  than  it  would  appear  to  us  in  the  present 
day. 

This  theory  of  the  State,  and  the  policy  of  regulation  and 
restriction  which  sprang  from  it,  still  largely  affected 
English  industry  at  the  time  when  Adam  Smith  wrote. 
There  was,  indeed,  great  freedom  of  internal  trade ;  there 
were  no  provincial  customs-barriers  as  in  contemporary 
France  and  Prussia.  Adam  Smith  singled  out  this  fact  as 
one  of  the  main  causes  of  English  prosperity,  and  to  Colbert 
and  Stein,  and  other  admirers  of  the  English  system,  such 
freedom  appeared  as  an  ideal  to  be  constantly  striven  after. 
But  though  internal  trade  was  free  for  the  passage  of  com- 
modities, yet  there  still  existed  a  network  of  restrictions  on 
the  mobility  of  labour  and  capital.  By  the  law  of 
apprenticeship  ^  no  person  could  follow  any  trade  till  he  had 
served  his  seven  years.  The  operation  of  the  law  was 
limited,  it  is  true,  to  trades  already  established  in  the  fifth 
>  6  Eliz,,  c.  4. 


52  THE  INDUSTRIAL  REVOLUTION 

year  of  Elizabeth,  and  obtained  only  in  market-towns  and 
cities.  But  wherever  there  was  a  municipal  corporation, 
the  restrictions  which  they  imposed  made  it  generally 
impossible  for  a  man  to  work  unless  he  was  a  freeman  of 
the  town,  and  this  he  could  as  a  rule  become  only  by  serv- 
ing his  apprenticeship.  Moreover,  the  corporations  super- 
vised the  prices  and  qualities  of  wares.  In  the  halls,  where 
the  smaller  manufacturers  sold  their  goods,  all  articles 
exposed  for  sale  were  inspected.  The  mediaeval  idea  still 
obtained  that  the  State  should  guarantee  the  genuineness  of 
wares  :  it  was  not  left  to  the  consumer  to  discover  their 
quality.  And  in  the  Middle  Ages,  no  doubt,  when  men 
used  the  same  things  from  year  to  year,  a  proper  supervision 
did  secure  good  work.  But  with  the  expansion  of  trade  it 
ceased  to  be  effective.  Sir  Josiah  Child  already  recognised 
that  changes  of  fashion  must  prove  fatal  to  it,  and  that  a 
nation  which  intended  to  have  the  trade  of  the  world  must 
make  articles  of  every  quality.^  Yet  the  belief  in  the 
necessity  of  regulation  was  slow  in  dying  out,  and  fresh 
Acts  to  secure  it  were  passed  as  late  as  George  n.'8  reign. 

It  is  not  clear  how  far  the  restrictions  on  the  mobility  of 
capital  and  labour  were  operative.  No  doubt  they  suc- 
ceeded to  a  large  extent ;  but  when  Adam  Smith  wrote  his 
bitter  criticism  of  the  corporations,'  he  was  probably  think- 
ing of  the  particular  instance  of  Glasgow,  where  Watt  was 
not  allowed  to  set  up  trade.  There  were,  however,  even  at 
that  time,  many  free  towns,  like  Birmingham  and  Man- 
chester, which  flourished  greatly  from  the  fact  of  their 
freedom.  And  even  in  the  chartered  towns,  if  Eden  is  to  be 
trusted,  the  restrictions  were  far  less  stringent  than  we 
should  gather  from  Adam  Smith.'  '  I  am  persuaded,'  he 
says, '  that  a  shoemaker,  who  had  not  served  an  apprentice- 
ship, might  exercise  his  industry  at  Bristol  or  Liverpool, 
with  as  little  hazard  of  being  molested  by  the  corporation 
of  either  place,  as  of  being  disturbed  by  the  borough-reve  of 

1  On  Trade,  p.  131  (ed.  1692). 

'  Wealth  of  Nations,  book  i.  ch.  x.  pt.  ii.  (vol.  i.  125). 

•  The  maintenanco  of  restrictions  in  the  chartered  towns  was  largely 
due  to  the  fact  that  the  dissenters,  who,  perhaps,  comprised  the  richest 
of  the  commercial  classes,  were  legally  altogether,  and  in  practice  to  a 
considerable  degree,  excluded  from  oillcc  in  the  chartered  towns. 


THE  MEKCAl^ILE  SYSTEM  53 

Manchester  or  the  head-constable  at  Birmingham.'  Then 
after  quoting  and  criticising  Adam  Smith,  he  adds :  '  I  con- 
fess, I  very  much  doubt  whether  there  is  a  single  corpora- 
tion in  England,  the  exercise  of  whose  rights  does  at  present 
operate  in  this  manner.  ...  In  this  instance,  as  in  many 
others,  the  insensible  progress  of  society  has  reduced 
chartered  rights  to  a  state  of  inactivity.'  ^  "We  may 
probably  conclude  that  nonfreemen  were  often  unmolested, 
but  that,  when  trade  was  bad,  they  were  liable  to  be 
expelled- 

Another  relic  of  Mediaevalism  was  the  regulation  of  wages 
by  Justices  of  the  Peace,  a  practice  enjoined  by  the  Act  of 
Elizabeth  already  referred  to.  Adam  Smith  speaks  of  it  as 
part  of  a  general  system  of  oppression  of  the  poor  by  the 
rich.  Whatever  may  have  been  the  case  in  some  instances 
this  was  not  generally  true.  The  country  gentry  were,  on 
the  whole,  anxious  to  do  justice  to  the  working  classes. 
Combinations  of  labourers  were  forbidden  by  law,  because 
it  was  thought  to  be  the  wrong  way  of  obtaining  the  object 
in  view,  not  from  any  desire  to  keep  down  wages.  The 
Justices  often  ordained  a  rise  in  wages,  and  the  workmen 
themselves  were  strongly  in  favour  of  this  method  of  fixing 
them.  The  employers  on  their  part  also  often  approved  of ") 
it.  In  fact  we  have  an  exactly  similar  system  at  the 
present  day  in  boards  of  arbitration.  The  Justice  was  an 
arbitrator,  appointed  by  law ;  and  it  is  a  mistaken  assump- 
tion that  such  authoritative  regulation  may  not  have  been 
good  in  its  day. 

The  principle  of  regulation  was  applied  much  more 
thoroughly  to  our  external  than  to  our  internal  trade.  The 
former  was  entirely  carried  on  by  great  chartered  companies, 
whether  they  were  on  a  joint-stock  footing,  like  the  East 
India  Company,  or  were  '  regulated '  like  the  Turkey  Com- 
pany, in  which  every  man  traded  on  his  own  Capital.' 
Here,  again,  Adam  Smith  carried  too  far  his  revolt  against 
the  restrictive  system,  which  led  him  to  denounce  corporate 
trading  as  vicious  in  principle.  'The  directors  of  such 
companies,'  he  says,  'being  the  managers  rather  of  other 

»  StaU  of  the  Poor,  i.  436,  437. 

•  Wtallh  of  Nations,  book  v.  ch.  i.  pt.  ili.  Bee.  i.  (vol.  it  317,  tt  stq.). 


64  THE  INDUSTRIAL  REVOLUTION 

people's  money  than  of  their  own,  it  cannot  well  be  expected 
that  they  should  watch  over  it  with  the  same  anxious  vigil- 
ance with  which  the  partners  in  a  private  copartnery 
frequently  watch  over  their  own.  .  .  .  Negligence  and  pro- 
fusion must  always  prevail,  more  or  less,  in  the  management 
of  the  affairs  of  such  a  company.'  ^  This  is  an  instance  of 
pure  a  pi^iori  reasoning,  but  Smith's  main  argument  is 
derived  from  the  history  of  Joint-Stock  Companies.  He 
sought  to  show  that,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  unless  they  had 
had  a  monopoly,  they  had  failed;  that  is,  he  proceeded 
inductively,  and  wound  up  with  an  empirical  law :  '  it  seems 
contrary  to  all  experience  that  a  Joint- Stock  Company  should 
be  able  to  carry  on  successfully  any  branch  of  foreign  trade, 
when  private  adventurers  can  come  into  any  sort  of  open 
and  fair  competition  with  them.' '  But  he  was  too  honest 
not  to  admit  exceptions  to  his  rule,  as  in  the  instance  of 
banking,  which  he  explained  by  the  fact  that  it  could  be 
reduced  to  routine. 

Smith's  empirical  law  is,  as  we  all  now  know,  far  from 
being  universally  true,  though  it  was  a  reasonable  induc- 
tion enough  at  the  time  when  it  was  made.  Since  then  a 
large  number  of  Joint- Stock  Companies  have  succeeded,  as 
for  instance  in  the  iron  trade.  Nor  is  it  difficult  to  see  the 
reason  of  this  change.  The  habit  of  combination  is  stronger 
than  it  was,  and  we  have  discovered  how  to  interest  paid 
servants  by  giving  them  a  share  in  the  results  of  the  enter- 
prises they  direct.  Experience  has  shown  also  that  a  big 
company  can  buy  the  best  brains,  In  the  recent  depression 
of  trade  the  ironworks  of  Dowlais,  which  are  managed  on 
the  Joint-stock  system,  alone  remained  successful  amid 
many  surrounding  failures,  and  that  because  they  had  the 
ablest  man  in  the  district  as  manager. 

\  In  Adam  Smith's  time,  however,  the  existence  of  Joint- 
IStock  Companies  was  due  not  to  any  notion  of  their  economi- 
cal superiority,  but  to  the  tendency  to  place  restrictions 
lupon  individual  enterprise,  based  upon  that  belief  in  the 
antagonism  of  public  and  private  interests  which  was  char- 
-acteristic  of  the  time.  The  same  idea  of  opposition  obtained 
equally  in  international  relations.  The  prosperity  of  one 
>  Wealth  of  Nations,  vol.  ii.  326,  .329.  ■  Ihid.,  p.  331. 


THE  MERCANTILE  SYSTEM  56 

country  was  thought  to  be  incompatible  with  that  of 
another.  If  one  profited  by  trade,  it  seemed  to  do  so  at 
the  expense  of  its  neighbours.  This  theory  was  the  founda- 
tion of  the  mercantile  system.  It  had  its  origin  in  the 
spirit  of  Nationalism — the  idea  of  self-sustained  and  com- 
plete national  life — which  came  in  with  the  Renaissance 
and  the  Reformation. 

But  how  came  this  Nationalism  to  be  connected  with  a 
belief  in  the  special  importance  of  gold  and  silver,  which  is 
generally  regarded  as  the  essence  of  the  mercantile  system  ? 
The  object  of  that  system  was  national  greatness,  but 
national  greatness  depends  on  national  riches  generally,  not 
on  one  particular  kind  of  riches  only,  such  as  coin.  The 
explanation  must  be  sought  in  the  fact  that,  owing  to  the 
simultaneous  development  of  trade  and  the  money  system, 
gold  and  silver  became  peculiarly  essential  to  the  machinery 
of  commerce.  "With  the  growth  of  standing  armies,  more- 
over, State  finance  acquired  a  new  importance,  and  the 
object  of  State  finance  was  to  secure  a  ready  supply  of  the 
precious  metals.  Thus  the  theory  sprang  up  that  gold  and 
silver  were  the  most  solid  and  durable  parts  of  the  moveable 
wealth  of  a  nation,  and  that,  as  they  had  more  value  in  use 
than  any  other  commodities,  every  state  should  do  all  in  its 
power  to  acquire  a  great  store  of  them.  At  first  the  Govern- 
ment tried  to  attain  this  object  by  accumulating  a  hoard ; 
but  this  policy  soon  proved  too  wasteful  and  difficult.  It 
then  turned  its  attention  to  increasing  the  quantity  of 
bullion  in  the  hands  of  the  people,  for  it  came  to  see  that  if 
there  was  plenty  of  bullion  in  the  country  it  could  always 
draw  upon  it  in  case  of  need.  The  export  of  gold  and  silver 
was  accordingly  forbidden;  but  if  hoarding  had  proved 
impracticable,  this  new  method  of  securing  the  desired  end 
was  soon  found  to  be  useless,  as  the  prohibition  could  be 
easily  evaded.  Id  the  last  resort,  therefore,  it  was  sought 
to  insure  a  continuous  influx  of  the  precious  metals  through 
the  ordinary  channels  of  trade.  If  we  bought  less  than  we 
sold,  it  was  argued,  the  balance  of  trade  must  be  paid  in 
coin.  To  accomplish  this  end  every  encouragement  was 
given  to  the  importation  of  raw  materials  and  the  neces- 
saries of  life,  but  the  purchase  of  foreign  manufactures  was, 


66  THE  INDUSTRIAL  REVOLUTION 

for  the  most  part,  prohibited,  and  individuals  were  entreated 
not  to  buy  imported  luxuries.  The  result  was  retaliation 
abroad,  and  a  deadlock  in  the  commercial  machine.  Wars 
of  tariff  were  common;  for  instance,  we  prohibited  the 
importation  of  gold-lace  from  Flanders,  and  the  Flem- 
ings in  return  excluded  our  wool.  The  system,  however, 
resisted  the  teaching  of  experience,  despite  the  fact  that  in 
abolishing  the  prohibition  of  the  export  of  gold  and  silver, 
the  Government  acknowledged  the  true  principle  of  free 
trade  put  forward  by  the  East  Indian  Company.  The  latter 
contended  that  the  law  forbidding  the  export  of  bullion  was 
not  only  useless,  since  it  was  easily  stultified  by  smuggling, 
but  even,  if  enforced,  was  hurtful,  since  the  Orientals  would 
only  sell  their  valuable  goods  for  silver.  The  success  of  this 
contention  marks  the  transition  from  the  Mercantile  System 
proper  to  modern  Protection.  The  advocates  of  that  system 
had  shifted  their  ground,  and  instead  of  seeking  merely  to 
prohibit  the  export  of  the  precious  metals,  they  established 
a  general  protection  of  native  industries. 

Their  measures  were  not  all  alike  bad.  The  Navigation 
Acts,  for  instance,  were  defended  by  Adam  Smith,  and  Mill 
has  indorsed  his  defence,  on  the  ground  that  national  de- 
fence is  more  important  than  national  opulence.^ 

The  most  famous  of  these  Acts  was  the  law  of  1651,^  by 
which  no  goods  of  the  growth  or  manufacture  of  Asia, 
Africa,  or  America  were  to  be  imported  into  England, 
Ireland,  or  the  Plantations,  except  in  ships  belonging  to 
English  subjects,  and  manned  by  a  crew  three-fourths  of 
whom  were  English;  while  no  goods  of  any  country  in 
Europe  were  to  be  imported  except  in  English  ships,  or 
ships  belonging  to  the  country  from  which  the  goods  came. 
The  argument  used  by  the  promoters  of  the  law  was  that 
by  excluding  the  Dutch  from  the  carrying  trade  to  this 
country  we  should  throw  it  into  the  hands  of  English  ship- 
owners, and  there  would  be  an  increase  of  English  ships. 
It  was  admitted,  indeed,  that  this  would  be  giving  a  mono- 

^  Wealth  of  Nations,  book  iv.  ch.  ii.  (vol.  ii.  38) ;  Mill's  Principles 
(first  edition),  book  v.  ch.  x.  (vol.  ii.  485). 

'^  There  had  been  earlier  Navigation  Acts,  of  more  or  less  stringency, 
from  the  time  of  Henry  vii.  onwards. 


THE  MEECANTILE  SYSTEM  67 

poly  to  English  shipowners  and  English  sailors,  and  that 
therefore  freights  would  he  dearer,  and  a  check  given  to 
the  growth  of  commerce.  It  was  further  admitted  that 
owing  to  their  higher  charges  English  ships  might  be 
driven  out  of  neutral  ports ;  but  the  contention  was,  that 
we  should  secure  to  ourselves  the  whole  of  the  carrying 
trade  between  America  and  the  "West  Indies  and  England, 
and  that  this  would  amply  compensate  for  our  expulsion 
from  other  branches  of  commerce. 

These  anticipations  were  on  the  whole  fulfilled.  The 
price  of  freights  were  raised,  because  English  ships  cost 
more  to  build  and  man  than  Dutch  ships,  and  thus  the 
total  amount  of  our  trade  was  diminished^  "We  were 
driven  out  of  neutral  ports,  and  lost  the  Russian  and  the 
Baltic  trades,  because  the  English  shipowners,  to  whom  we 
had  given  a  monopoly,  raised  their  charge.*  But  on  the 
other  hand,  we  monopolised  the  trade  to  ports  coming 
within  the  scope  of  the  Act,  the  main  object  of  which  was 
'the  preservation  of  our  plantation  trade  entire.''  Our 
shipping  received  a  great  stimulus,  and  our  maritime 
supremacy  grew  with  it.  At  the  time  when  the  Naviga- 
tion Act  was  passed  our  colonial  trade  was  insignificant; 
New  York  and  Jersey  were  Dutch ;  Georgia,  the  Carolinas, 
Pennsylvania,  Nova  Scotia  were  not  yet  planted ;  Virginia, 
Maryland,  New  England  were  in  their  infancy.*  At  the 
end  of  the  century  the  Barbadoes  alone  employed  400 
vessels ;  while  with  the  growth  of  the  colonies  the  English 
power  at  sea  had  increased,  until  it  rivalled  the  Dutch.  In 
the  next  century  the  continuous  development  of  the  Ameri- 
can and  East  Indian  trades  gave  us  a  position  of  unquestion- 
able maritime  superiority.' 

There  is  another  argument  in  favour  of  Protection,  at  any 
rate  in  its  early  days.  Its  stimulus  helped  to  overcomp  the 
apathy  and  dulness  of  a  purely  agricultural  population,  and 
&ftw  a  part  of  the  people  into  trade.'    But  here,  as  every- 

^  Anderson,  ii.  443-4  ;  Wealth  of  Nations,  book  iv.  ch.  vii.  (voL  ii.  179) ; 
Child  On  Trade,  p.  93  (ed.  1692);  Britannia  Languena  (1580),  66; 
Richardaon  (1750),  52. 

•  Child,  p.  98  (ed.  1692),  »  Anderson,  ii.  416. 

•  Wealth  of  Nations,  loc.  cit.         »  Payne's  History  of  the  CoUmies,  78. 

•  Mill's  Principles  of  Political  Economy,  i.  ch.  8,  §  2,  p.  141. 


68  THE  INDUSTRIAL  REVOLUTION 

1  where,  Protection  involves  this  great  disadvantage,  that, 
once  given,  it  is  difficult  to  withdraw,  and  thus  in  the  end 
more  harm  is  done  than  good.  English  industries  would 
not  have  advanced  so  rapidly  without  Protection,  but  the 
system,  once  established,  led  to  perpetual  wrangling  on  the 
part  of  rival  industries,  and  sacrificed  India  and  the  colonies 
to  our  great  manufacturers.  And  our  national  dislike  to 
Protection  deepens  into  repugnance  when  we  examine  the 
details  of  the  system.  Looking  at  its  results  during  the 
period  from  1688  to  1776,  when  it  was  in  full  force,  we  are 
forced  to  acknowledge  that  Adam  Smith's  invectives  against 
the  merchants,  violent  as  they  were,  were  not  stronger  than 
the  facts  demanded. 

But  the  maintenance  of  Protection  cannot  be  entirely 
set  down  to  the  merchants.  Though  the  trading  classes 
acquired  much  influence  at  the  Revolution,  the  landed 
gentry  were  still  supreme  in  Parliament ;  and  the  question 
arises,  why  they  should  have  lent  themselves  to  a  policy 
which  in  many  cases,  as  in  the  prohibition  of  the  export 
of  wool,  was  distinctly  opposed  to  the  interests  of  agricul- 
ture. Adam  Smith's  explanation  is  very  simple.  The 
country  gentleman,  who  was  naturally  *  least  subject  of  all 
people  to  the  wretched  spirit  of  monopoly,'  was  imposed 
upon  by  the  'clamours  and  sophistry  of  merchants  and 
manufacturers,'  and  '  the  sneaking  arts  of  underling  trades- 
men,' who  persuaded  him  into  a  simple  but  honest  con- 
viction that  their  interest  and  not  his  was  the  interest  of 
the  public.^  Now  this  is  true,  but  it  is  not  the  whole  truth. 
I  The  landowners,  no  doubt,  thought  it  their  duty  to  protect 
(trade,  and,  not  understanding  its  details,  they  implicitly 
^  followed  the  teaching  of  tlie  merchants.  But,  besides  this, 
there  was  the  close  connection,  already  referred  to,  between 
them  and  the  commercial  classes.  Their  younger  sons 
often  went  into  trade;  they  themselves,  in  many  cases, 
married  merchants'  daughters.  Nor  did  they  give  their 
support  gratuitously ;  they  wanted  Protection  for  themselves, 
and  if  they  acquiesced  in  the  prohibition  of  tlie  wool  export, 
they  perbuaded  the  merchants  to  allow  them  in  return  a 
bounty  of  5s.  a  quarter  on  the  export  of  corn. 
1  Wealth  of  Nations,  bk.  i.  ch.  x.  ;  bk.  iv.  ch.  iii.  (vol.  i.  134 ;  ii.  34,  68). 


THE  MERCANTILE  SYSTEM  69 

One  of  the  worst  features  of  the  system  was  the  struggle 
of  rival  interests  at  ho/ne.  A  great  instance  of  this  was 
the  war  between  the  woollen  and  cotton  trades,  in  which 
the  former,  supported  by  the  landed  interest,^  for  a  long 
time  had  the  upper  hand,  so  that  an  excise  duty  was  placed 
on  printed  calicoes,  and  in  1721  they  were  forbidden  alto- 
gether. It  was  not  till  1774  that  they  were  allowed 
again,  and  the  excise  duty  was  not  repealed  till  1831. 
To  take  another  instance  :  it  was  proposed  in  Parliament 
in  1750  to  allow  the  importation  of  pig  and  bar  iron  from 
the  colonies.  The  tanners  at  once  petitioned  against  it,  on 
the  ground  that  if  American  iron  was  imported,  less  iron 
would  be  smelted  in  England,  fewer  trees  would  be  cut 
down,  and  therefore  their  own  industry  would  suffer ;  and  [ 
the  owners  of  woodland  tracts  supported  the  tanners,  lest  \ 
the  value  of  their  timber  should  be  affected.'  These  are 
typical  examples  of  the  way  in  which,  under  a  protective 
system,  politics  are  complicated  and  degraded  by  the 
intermixture  of  commercial  interests.  And  the  freer  a  .' 
government  is,  and  the  more  exposed  to  pressure  on  the  / 
part  of  its  subjects,  the  worse  will  be  the  result.  As  an 
American  observer  has  lately  said,  Protection  may  be  well 
enough  under  a  despotism,  but  in  a  republic  it  can  never 
be  successful. 

We  find  still  stronger  illustration  of  the  evils  of  Protec* 
tion  in  our  policy  towards  Ireland  and  the  colonies.  After 
the  Cromwellian  settlement,  there  had  been  an  export  of 
Irish  cattle  into  England;  'but  for  the  pacifying  of  our 
landed  gentlemen,'*  after  the  Restoration  the  import  of 
Irish  live  stock,  meat  and  dairy  produce  was  prohibited 
from  1660  to  1685.  As  cattle-farming  then  became 
unprofitable,  the  Irish  turned  their  lands  into  sheep- 
walks,  and  not  only  exported  wool,  but  started 
woollen  manufactures  at  home.  Immediately  a  law  was 
passed  (1699)  confining  the  export  of  Irish  wool  to  the 

*  In  the  Tru6  RepreterUcUUm  of  the  Manufacture  of  the  Combing  and 
Spinning  of  Wool  {Bib.  Bodl.  :  n.d.),  the  author  remarks  that  the  im- 
portation of  Indian  yarn  'will  hinder  the  consumption  of  great  quantities 
of  wool,  by  which  the  gentlemen's  tenants,  whose  lands  are  used  in  the 
growth  of  wool,  will  be  necessitated  to  sell  their  wool  for  a  low  price.' 

•  Scrivenor,  pp.  73-4.  »  Anderson,  vol.  ii.  p.  607. 


60  THE  INDUSTRIAL  REVOLUTION 

English  market;  and  this  was  followed  by  the  imposition 
of  prohibitive  duties  on  their  woollen  manufactures.  The 
English  manufacturers  argued  that  as  Ireland  was  protected 
by  England,  and  its  prosperity  was  due  to  English  capital, 
the  Irish  ought  to  reconcile  themselves  to  restrictions  on 
their  trade,  in  the  interests  of  Englishmen.  Besides,  the 
joint  interests  of  both  kingdoms  would  be  best  considered 
if  England  and  Ireland  respectively  monopolised  the  woollen 
and  linen  industries,  and  the  two  nations  thus  became 
dependent  on  one  another.  If  we  turn  to  the  colonies,  we 
find  them  regarded  simply  as  markets  and  farms  of  the 
mother  country.  The  same  argument  was  used :  that  they 
owed  everything  to  England,  and  therefore  it  was  no  tyranny 
to  exploit  them  in  her  interests.  They  were,  therefore,  not 
allowed  to  export  or  import  in  any  but  British  vessels ;  they 
might  not  export  such  commodities  as  Englishmen  wanted 
to  any  part  of  Europe  other  than  Great  Britain ;  while  those 
of  their  raw  materials  in  which  our  landowners  feared  com- 
petition were  excluded  from  the  English  markets.  All 
imports  into  the  colonies  from  other  parts  of  Europe,  except 
Great  Britain,  were  forbidden,  in  order  that  our  manufac- 
turers might  monopolise  the  American  market.  Moreover, 
every  attempt  was  made  to  prevent  them  from  starting 
any  manufactures  at  home.  At  the  end  of  the  seventeenth 
century  some  Americana  had  set  on  foot  a  woollen  industry ; 
in  1719  it  was  suppressed;  all  iron  manufactures — even 
nail-making — were  forbidden;  a  flourishing  hat  manufac- 
ture had  sprung  up,  but  at  the  petition  of  English  hatters, 
these  competitors  were  not  allowed  to  export  to  England, 
or  even  from  one  colony  to  another.  Adam  Smith  might 
well  say,  that '  to  found  a  great  empire,  for  the  sole  pur- 
pose of  raising  up  a  people  of  customers,  may  at  first  sight 
appear  a  project  fit  only  for  a  nation  of  shopkeepers.'^ 
Nothing  contributed  more  than  this  commercial  system  to 
the  Declaration  of  Independence,  and  it  is  significant  that 
the  same  year  which  saw  its  promulgation  saw  also  the 
publication  of  the  Wealth  of  Nations. 

Many  people  on  first  reading  the  Wealth  of  Nations  are 
disappointed.     They  come  to  it  expecting  lucid  arguments, 
*  WecUth  of  Nations,  bk.  iv.  ch.  rii.  pt.  iii.  (vol,  ii.  p.  196). 


THE  MEKCANTILE  SYSTEM  61 

the  clear  exposition  of  universal  laws;  they  find  much 
tedious  and  confused  reasoning  and  a  mass  of  facts  of  only 
temporary  interest.  But  these  very  defects  contributed  to 
its  immediate  success.  It  was  because  Adam  Smith 
examined  in  detail  the  actual  conditions  of  the  age,  and 
wrote  a  handbook  for  the  statesman,  and  not  merely,  as 
Turgot  did,  a  systematised  treatise  for  the  philosopher,  that 
he  appealed  so  strongly  to  the  practical  men  of  his  time, 
who,  with  Pitt,  praised  his  '  extensive  knowledge  of  detail,' 
as  well  as  '  the  depth  of  his  philosophical  research.'  It  was 
the  combination  of  the  two  which  gave  him  his  power.  He 
was  the  first  great  writer  on  the  subject;  with  him  political 
economy  passed  from  the  exchange  and  the  market-place  to 
the  professor's  study;  but  he  was  only  groping  his  way, 
and  we  cannot  expect  to  meet  with  neat  arrangement  and 
scientific  precision  of  treatment  in  his  book.  His  language 
is  tentative,  he  sometimes  makes  distinctions  which  he  for- 
gets elsewhere,  as  was  inevitable  before  the  language  of 
economics  had  been  fixed  by  endless  verbal  discussi '»ns. 
He  had  none  of  Ricardo's  power  of  abstract  reasoning.  His 
gift  lay  in  the  extent  and  quickness  of  his  observation, 
and  in  his  wonderful  felicity  of  illustration.  We  study  him 
because  in  him,  as  in  Plato,  we  come  into  contact  w:tb  a 
great  original  mind,  which  teaches  us  how  to  think  and  work. 

Original  people  always  are  confused  because  they  are  feel- 
ing their  way. 

If  we  look  for  the  fundamental  ideas  of  Adam  Smith, 
those  which  distinguish  him  most  clearly  from  earlier 
writers,  we  are  first  struck  by  his  cosmopolitanism.  He  was 
the  precursor  of  Cobden  in  his  belief  that  commerce  is  not  of 
one  nation,  but  that  all  the  nations  of  the  world  should  be 
considered  as  one  great  community.  We  may  see  how  widely 
he  had  departed  from  the  old  national  system  of  economy, 
by  contrasting  the  mere  title  of  his  book.  The  Wealth  of 
Nations,  with  that  of  Mun's  treatise,  England's  Treasure  in 
Foreign  Trade.  This  cosmopolitanism  necessitated  a  de- 
tailed refutation  of  the  mercantile  system.  He  had  to  prove 
that  gold  and  silver  were  not  more  important  than  other 
forms  of  wealth;  and  that  if  we  wanted  to  buy  them,  we 
could  always  do  so,  if  we  had  other  consumable  goods  to 


6«  THE  INDUSTRIAL  EEVOLUTION 

offer  in  exchange.  But  it  might  be  objected :  '  What  if  a 
nation  refuses  to  take  your  other  goods,  and  wants  your 
gold  ? '  Adam  Smith  replied :  '  In  that  case,  gold  will  leave 
your  country  and  go  abroad ;  as  a  consequence,  prices  will 
fall  at  home,  foreigners  will  be  attracted  by  the  low  prices 
to  buy  in  your  markets,  and  thus  the  gold  will  return.'  I 
can  give  you  an  actual  example  from  recent  history  to  prove 
the  truth  of  his  deduction.  During  the  potato  famine 
of  1847,  we  had  to  import  enormous  quantities  of  grain 
from  America,  and  as  a  consequence  had  to  send  there 
£16,000,000  worth  of  bullion.  Immediately  prices  rose  in 
America  and  fell  in  England,  English  merchants  discon- 
tinued buying  in  America,  while  American  merchants 
bought  largely  in  England,  so  that  in  the  following  year  all 
the  gold  came  back  again. 

Equally  prominent  in  Adam  Smith  is  his  individualism, 
his  complete  and  unhesitating  trust  in  individual  self- 
interest.  He  was  the  first  to  appeal  fco  self-interest  as  a 
great  bond  of  society.  As  a  keen  observer,  he  could  point 
to  certain  facts,  which  seemed  to  bear  out  his  creed.  If  we 
once  grant  the  principle  of  the  division  of  labour,  then  it 
follows  that  one  man  can  live  only  by  finding  out  what 
other  men  want ;  it  is  on  this  fact,  for  instance,  that  the 
food  supply  of  London  depends.  This  is  the  basis  of  the 
doctrine  of  laisser  faire.  It  implies  competition,  which 
would  result,  so  Adam  Smith  believed,  in  men's  wantsf 
being  supplied  at  a  minimum  of  cost.  In  upholding  com- 
petition he  was  radically  opposed  to  the  older  writers,  who 
thought  it  a  hateful  thing;  but  his  conclusion  was  quite 
true.  Again  it  implies  the  best  possible  distribution  of  in- 
dustry ;  for  under  a  system  of  free  competition,  every  man 
will  carry  on  his  trade  in  the  locality  most  suitable  for  it. 

But  the  principle  of  laisser  faire  breaks  down  in  certain 
points  not  recognised  by  Adam  Smith.  It  fails,  for  in- 
stance, in  assuming  that  it  io  the  interest  of  the  producer 
to  supply  the  wants  of  the  consumer  in  the  best  possible 
manner,  that  it  is  the  interest  of  the  producer  to  manufac- 
ture honest  wares.  It  is  quite  true  that  this  is  his  interest, 
where  the  trade  is  an  old-established  one  and  has  a  reputa- 
tion to    maintain,  or  where  the  consumer  is  intelligent 


THE  MERCANTILE  SYSTEM  63 

enough  to  discover  whether  a  commodity  is  genuine  or  not 
But  these  conditions  exist  only  to  a  small  extent  in  modern 
commerce.  The  trade  of  the  present  day  is  principally 
carried  on  with  borrowed  capital ;  and  it  may  be  a  clever 
man's  interest  to  sell  as  large  a  quantity  of  goods  as  pos- 
sible in  a  few  years  and  then  throw  up  his  business.  Thus 
the  interests  of  producer  and  consumer  conflict,  and  it  has 
been  found  necessary  to  pass  Adulteration  Acts,  which 
recognise  the  non-identity  of  interest  of  seller  and  buyer. 
It  was  argued,  indeed,  in  Parliament,  when  these  acts  were 
proposed,  that  consumers  ought  to  take  care  of  themselves, 
but  the  consumers  are  far  too  ignorant  to  do  so,  especially 
the  poor  who  are  the  great  consumers  of  the  articles  pro- 
tected against  adulteration.  Adam  Smith,  moreover,  could 
not  foresee  that  internal  free  trade  might  result  in  natural 
monopolies.  A  conspicuous  feature  of  our  times  is  the  con- 
centration of  certain  industries  in  the  hands  of  a  few  great 
capitalists,  especially  in  America,  where  such  rings  actually 
dictate  the  prices  of  the  market  Eighty-five  per  cent,  of 
the  Pennsylvanian  coal-mines,  for  instance,  are  in  the  hands 
of  six  or  seven  companies  who  act  in  combination.  The 
easiest  remedy  for  such  monopolies  would  be  international 
free  trade ;  with  international  competition  few  could  be 
maintained.  Finally,  in  the  distribution  of  wealth  there 
must  necessarily  be  a  permanent  antagonism  of  interests. 
Adam  Smith  himself  saw  this,  when  he  said  that  the  rate 
of  wages  depended  on  contracts  between  two  parties  whose 
interests  were  not  identicaL  This  being  granted,  we  see 
that  in  distribution  the  '  harmony '  of  the  individual  and  the 
public  good  is  a  figment  At  the  present  day  each  class  of 
workmen  cares  only  for  the  wages  of  its  own  members.  Hence 
the  complete  breakdown  of  the  laisser  faire  system  in  the 
question  of  wages.  We  have  been  driven  to  attempt  the 
establishment  of  Boards  of  Conciliation  all  over  the  country, 
thus  virtually  surrendering  the  principle.  Nor  is  it  true 
that  self-interest  tends  to  supply  all  our  wants ;  some  of 
our  best  institutions,  such  as  hospitals,  owe  their  existence 
to  altruistic  sentiment.^     These  antagonisms  were  to  come 

^  On  the  whole  sabJeoE  seeH.  Spencer's  Essays  on  Specialised  Adminig- 
trcUion  and  the  Social  Organism,  and  Professor  Huxley's  Essay  on 
Administrative  Nihilitm. 


64  THE  INDUSTRIAL  REVOLUTION 

out  more  strongly  than  ever  after  Adam  Smith's  time. 
There  were  dark  patches  even  in  his  age,  but  we  now 
approach  a  darker  period, — a  period  as  disastrous  and  as 
terrible  as  any  through  which  a  nation  ever  passed;  dis- 
astrous and  terrible,  because,  side  by  side  with  a  great 
increase  of  wealth  was  seen  an  enormous  increase  of 
pauperism;  and  production  on  a  vast  scale,  the  result  of 
free  competition,  led  to  a  rapid  alienation  of  classes  and  to 
the  degradation  of  a  large  body  of  producers. 


VIII 
THE  CHIEF  FEATURES  OF  THE  REVOLUTION 

Growth  of  Economic  Science — Competition — Its  uses  and  abuses — The 
symptoms  of  the  Industrial  Revolution — Rapid  growth  of  population 
— Its  relative  density  in  North  and  South — The  agrarian  revolution 
— Enclosures — Consolidation  of  farms  and  agricultural  improve- 
ments— The  revolution  in  manufactures — The  factory  system — Ex- 
pansion of  trade — Rise  in  rents — Change  in  the  relative  position  of 
classes. 

The  essence  of  the  Industrial  Revolution  is  the  substitu- 
tion of  competition  for  the  mediaeval  regulations  which  had 
previously  controlled  the  production  and  distribution  of 
wealth.  On  this  account  it  is  not  only  one  of  the  most 
important  facts  of  English  history,  but  Europe  owes  to  it 
the  growth  of  two  great  systems  of  thought — Economic 
Science,  and  its  antithesis,  Socialism.  The  development  of 
Economic  Science  in  England  has  four  chief  landmarks, 
each  connected  with  the  name  of  one  of  the  four  great  English 
economists.  The  first  is  the  publication  of  Adam  Smith's 
Wealth  of  Nations  in  1776,  in  which  he  investigated  the 
causes  of  wealth  and  aimed  at  the  substitution  of  industrial 
freedom  for  a  system  of  restriction.  The  production  of 
wealth,  not  the  welfare  of  man,  was  what  Adam  Smith  had 
primarily  before  his  mind's  eye;  in  his  own  words,  'the 
great  object  of  the  Political  Economy  of  every  country  is  to 
increase  the  riches  and  power  of  that  country.'  *  His  great 
»  Vol.  i.  bk.  ii.  ch.  v.  p.  377. 


ITS  CHIEF  FEATURES  65 

book  appeared  on  the  eve  of  the  Industrial  Revolution,  A 
second  stage  in  the  growth  of  the  science  is  marked  by 
Malthus's  Essay  on  Fopulation,  published  in  1798,  which 
may  be  considered  the  product  of  that  revolution,  then 
already  in  full  swing,  Adam  Smith  had  concentrated  all 
his  attention  on  a  large  production ;  Malthus  directed  his 
inquiries,  not  to  the  causes  of  wealth  but  to  the  causes  of 
poverty,  ^nd  found  them  in  his  theory  of  population.  A 
third  stage  is  marked  by  Ricardo's  Principles  of  Political 
Economy  and  Taxation,  which  appeared  in  1817,  and  in 
which  Ricardo  sought  to  ascertain  the  laws  of  the  distribu- 
tion of  wealth.  Adam  Smith  had  shown  how  wealth  could 
be  produced  under  a  system  of  industrial  freedom,  Ricardo 
showed  how  wealth  is  distributed  under  such  a  system,  a 
problem  which  could  not  have  occurred  to  any  one  before 
his  time.  The  fourth  stage  is  marked  by  John  Stuart 
Mill's  Principles  of  Political  Economy,  published  in  1848. 
Mill  himself  asserted  that  '  the  chief  merit  of  his  treatise  ' 
was  the  distinction  drawn  between  the  laws  of  production 
and  those  of  distribution,  and  the  problem  he  tried  to  solve 
was,  how  wealth  ought  to  be  distributed.  A  great  advance 
was  made  by  Mill's  attempt  to  show  what  was  and  what 
was  not  inevitable  under  a  system  of  free  competition.  In 
it  we  see  the  influence  which  the  rival  system  of  Social- 
ism was  already  begiiming  to  exercise  upon  the  economists. 
The  whole  spirit  of  Mill's  book  is  quite  different  from  that 
of  any  economic  works  which  had  up  to  his  time  been 
written  in  England.  Though  a  re-statement  of  Ricardo's 
system,  it  contained  the  admission  that  the  distribution  of 
wealth  is  the  result  of '  particular  social  arrangements,'  and 
it  recognised  that  competition  alone  is  not  a  satisfactory 
basis  of  society. 

Competition,  heralded  by  Adam  Smith,  and  taken  for 
granted  by  Ricardo  and  Mill,  is  still  the  dominant  idea  of 
our  time ;  though  since  the  publication  of  the  Origin  of 
Species,  we  hear  more  of  it  under  the  name  of  the  '  struggle 
for  existence.'  I  wish  here  to  notice  the  fallacies  involved  in 
the  current  arguments  on  this  subject.  In  the  first  place  it  is 
assumed  that  all  competition  is  a  competition  for  existence 
This  is  not  true.     There  is  a  great  difference  between  a 

s 


66  THE  INDUSTEIAL  EEVOLUTION 

struggle  for  mere  existence  and  a  struggle  for  a  particular 
kind  of  existence.    For  instance,  twelve  men  are  struggling 
for  employment  in  a  trade  where  there  is  only  room  for 
eight ;  four  are  driven  out  of  that  trade,  but  they  are  not 
trampled  out  of  existence.      A  good  deal  of  competition 
merely  decides  what  kind  of  work  a  man  is  to  do ;  ^  though 
of  course  when  a  man  can  only  do  one  kind  of  work,  it  may 
easily  become  a  struggle  for  bare  life.     It  is  next  assumed 
that  this  struggle  for  existence  is  a  law  of  nature,  and  that 
therefore  all  human  interference  with  it  is  wrong.     To  that 
I  answer  that  the  whole  meaning  of  civilisation  is  interfer-  ij  I 
ence  with  this  brute  struggle.     "We  intend  to  modify  the  I  / 
violence  of  the  fight,  and  to  prevent  the  weak  being  trampled  j;  I 
under  foot. 

Competition,  no  doubt,  has  its  uses.  Without  competition 
no  progress  would  be  possible,  for  progress  comes  chiefly 
from  without ;  it  is  external  pressure  which  forces  men  to 
exert  themselves.  Socialists,  however,  maintain  that  this 
advantage  is  gained  at  the  expense  of  an  enormous  waste 
of  human  life  and  labour,  which  might  be  avoided  by 
regulation.  But  here  we  must  distinguish  between  com- 
petition in  production  and  competition  in  distribution,  a 
difference  recognised  in  modern  legislation,  which  has 
widened  the  sphere  of  contract  in  the  one  direction,  while 
it  has  narrowed  it  in  the  other.  For  the  struggle  of  men 
to  outvie  one  another  in  production  is  beneficial  to  the 
community;  their  struggle  over  the  division  of  the  joint 
produce  is  not.  The  stronger  side  will  dictate  its  own 
terms;  and  as  a  matter  of  fact,  in  the  early  days  of  com- 
petition the  capitalists  used  all  their  power  to  oppress  the 
labourers,  and  drove  down  wages  to  starvation  point.  This 
kind  of  competition  has  to  be  checked ;  there  is  no  historical 
instance  of  its  having  lasted  long  without  being  modified 
either  by  combination  or  legislation,  or  both.  In  England 
both  remedies  are  in  operation,  the  former  through  Trades- 
Unions,  the  latter  through  factory  legislation.  In  the  past 
other  remedies  were  applied.  It  is  this  desire  to  prevent 
the  evils  of  competition  that  affords  the  true  explanation  of 
the  fixing  of  wages  by  Justices  of  the  Peace,  which  seemed 

*  Inability  to  see  this  fact  is  the  source  of  the  Protec^tioni*^  fallacy. 


ITS  CHIEF  FEATURES  67 

to  Ricardo  a  remnant  of  the  old  system  of  tyranny  in  the 
interests  of  the  strong.  Competition,  we  have  now  learnt, 
is  neither  good  nor  e\'il  in  itself ;  it  is  a  force  which  has  to 
be  studied  and  controlled ;  it  may  be  compared  to  a  stream 
whose  strength  and  direction  have  to  be  observed,  that 
embankments  may  be  thrown  up  within  which  it  may  do 
its  work  harmlessly  and  beneficially.  But  at  the  period  we 
are  considering  it  came  to  be  believed  in  as  a  gospel,  and, 
the  idea  of  necessity  being  superadded,  economic  laws  de- 
duced from  the  assumption  of  universal  unrestricted  com- 
petition were  converted  into  practical  precepts,  from  which 
it  was  regarded  as  little  short  of  immoral  to  depart. 

Coming  to  the  facts  of  the  Industrial  Revolution,  the  first 
thing  that  strikes  us  is  the  far  greater  rapidity  which  marks 
the  growth  of  population.  Before  1751  the  largest  decen- 
nial increase,  so  far  as  we  can  calculate  from  our  imperfect 
materials,  was  3  per  cent.  For  each  of  the  next  three 
decennial  periods  the  increase  was  6  per  cent. ;  then  be- 
tween 1781  and  1791  it  was  9  per  cent.;  between  1791  and 
1801,  11  per  cent.;  between  1801  and  1811,  14  per  cent.; 
between  1811  and  1821,  18  per  cent^  This  is  the  highest 
figure  ever  reached  in  England,  for  since  1815  a  vast  emi- 
gration has  been  always  tending  to  moderate  it ;  between 
1815  and  1880  over  eight  millions  (including  Irish)  have 
left  our  shores.  But  for  this  our  normal  rate  of  increase 
would  be  1 6  or  1 8  instead  of  1 2  per  cent,  in  every  decade.' 

Next  we  notice  the  relative  and  positive  decline  in  the 
agricultural  population.  In  1811  it  constituted  35  per 
cent,  of  the  whole  population  of  Great  Britain;  in  1821,  33 
per  cent.;  in  1831,  28  per  cent.'  And  at  the  same  time 
its  actual  numbers  have  decreased.  In  1831  there  were 
1,243,057  adult  males  employed  in  agriculture  in  Great 

*  *In  the  cotton  trade,*  said  Sir  R.  Peel  in  1806,  'machinery  has  given 
birth  to  a  new  population  ;  it  hai  promoted  the  comforts  of  the  popula- 
tion to  such  a  degree  that  early  marriages  have  been  resorted  to,  and  a 
great  increase  of  numbers  has  been  occasioned  by  it,  and  I  may  est 
that  they  have  given  rise  to  an  additional  race  of  men.' — Pari.  Report, 
p.  440. 

'  See  Jovona  on  Tkt  Coal  Question,  p.  109 ;  Censns  Returns  for  1881, 
pp.  iu,  xi. 

*  Porter's  Progrtas  of  the  Nation  (2nd  edition,  1847),  p.  52. 


68  THE  INDUSTRIAL  REVOLUTION 

Britain;  in  1841  there  were  1,207,989.  In  1851  the  whole 
number  of  persons  engaged  in  agriculture  in  England  was 
2,084,153;  in  1861  it  was  2,010,454,  and  in  1871  it  was 
1,657,138.1  Contemporaneously  with  this  change,  the 
centre  of  density  of  population  has  shifted  from  the  Mid- 
lands to  the  North;  there  are  at  the  present  day  458 
persons  to  the  square  mile  in  the  counties  north  of  the 
Trent,  as  against  312  south  of  the  Trent.  And  we  have 
lastly  to  remark  the  change  in  the  relative  population  of 
England  and  Ireland.  Of  the  total  population  of  the  three 
kingdoms,  Ireland  had  in  1821  32  per  cent,  in  1881  only 
14'6  per  cent. 

/  An  agrarian  revolution  plays  as  large  part  in  the  great 
industrial  change  of  the  end  of  the  eighteenth  century  as 
does  the  revolution  in  manufacturing  industries,  to  which 
attention  is  more  usually  directed.  Our  next  inquiry  must 
therefore  be:  What  were  the  agricultural  changes  which 
led  to  this  noticeable  decrease  in  the  rural  population? 
The  three  most  effective  causes  were:  the  destruction  of 
the  common-field  system  of  cultivation;  the  enclosure,  on 
a  large  scale,  of  common  and  waste  lands;  and  the  con- 
solidation of  small  farms  into  large.  "We  have  already  seen 
that  while  between  1710  and  1760  some  300,000  acres  were 
enclosed,  between  1760  and  1843  nearly  7,000,000  under- 
went the  same  process.  Closely  connected  with  the  en- 
closure system  was  the  substitution  of  large  for  small 
farms.  In  the  first  half  of  the  century  Laurence,  though 
approving  of  consolidation  from  an  economic  point  of  view, 
had  thought  that  the  odium  attaching  to  an  evicting  land- 
lord would  operate  as  a  strong  check  upon  it.^  But  these 
scruples  had  now  disappeared.  Eden  in  1795  notices  how 
constantly  the  change  was  effected,  often  accompanied  by 
the  conversion  of  arable  to  pasture ;  and  relates  how  in  a 
certain  Dorsetshire  village  he  found  tv/o  farms  where 
twenty  years  ago  there  had  been  thirty.'  The  process  went 
on  uninterruptedly  into  the  present  century.  Cobbett, 
writing  in  1826,  says:  'In  the  parish  of   Burghclere  one 

^  Porter,  pp.  61,  65.     Kolb's  Condition  of  Nations,  translated  by  Mrs. 
Brewer,  p.  73.  ^  Duty  of  a  Steward,  pp.  3,  4. 

«  Slate  of  the  Poor,  ii.  pp.  147-8.    Cf.  also  p.  621. 


ITS  CHIEF  FEATURES  69 

single  farmer  holds,  under  Lord  Carnarvon,  as  one  farm, 
the  lands  that  those  now  living  remember  to  have  formed 
fourteen  farms,  bringing  up  in  a  respectable  way  fourteen 
families.'  ^  The  consolidation  of  farms  reduced  the  number 
of  farmers,  while  the  enclosures  drove  the  labourers  off  the 
land,  as  it  became  impossible  for  them  to  exist  without  their 
rights  of  pasturage  for  sheep  and  geese  on  common  lands. 

Severely,  however,  as  these  changes  bore  upon  the  rural 
population,  they  wrought,  without  doubt,  distinct  improve- 
ment from  an  agricultural  point  of  view.  They  meant  the. 
substitution  of  scientific  for  unscientific  culture.  '  It  has 
been  found,'  says  Laurence,  'by  long  experience,  that  com- 
mon or  open  fields  are  great  hindrances  to  the  public  good, 
and  to  the  honest  improvement  which  every  one  might 
make  of  his  own.'  Enclosures  brought  an  extension  of 
arable  cultivation  and  the  tillage  of  inferior  soils ;  and  in 
small  farms  of  40  to  100  acres,  where  the  land  was 
exhausted  by  repeated  corn  crops,  the  farm  buildings  of 
clay  and  mud  walls  and  three-fourths  of  the  estate  often 
saturated  with  water,^  consolidation  into  farms  of  100  to 
500  acres  meant  rotation  of  crops,  leases  of  nineteen  years, 
and  good  farm  buildings.  The  period  was  one  of  great 
agricultural  advance;  the  breed  of  cattle  was  improved, 
rotation  of  crops  was  generally  introduced,  the  steam-plough 
was  invented,  agricultural  societies  were  instituted.'  In 
one  respect  alone  the  change  was  injurious.  In  conse- 
quence of  the  high  prices  of  corn  which  prevailed  during 
the  French  war,  some  of  the  finest  permanent  pastures  were 
broken  up.  Still,  in  spite  of  this,  it  was  said  in  1813  that 
during  the  previous  ten  years  agricultural  produce  had  in- 
creased by  one-fourth,  and  this  was  an  increase  upon  a 
great  increase  in  the  preceding  generation.* 

Passing  to  manufactures,  we  find  here  the  all-prominent 
fact  to  be  the  substitution  of  the  factory  for  the  domestic 
system,  the  consequence  of  the  mechanical  discoveries  of 

»  Rurai  Rides,  ed.  1830,  p.  679. 
'  Kebbel's  Agricultural  Labourer,  pp.  207-8. 

J  The  North  and  West  of  England  in  1777 ;  the  Highland  Society  in 
1784  ;  the  Board  of  Agriculttire  in  1793. 
*  Committee  on  tbe  Corn  Trade  (1813).     See  Porter,  p.  149. 


70  THE  INDUSTRIAL  REVOLUTION 

the  time.  Four  great  inventions  altered  the  character  of 
the  cotton  manufacture;  the  spinning-jenny,  patented  by 
Hargreaves  in  1770;  the  water-frame,  invented  by  Ark- 
wright  the  year  before;  Crompton's  mule  introduced  in 
1779,  and  the  self-acting  mule,  first  invented  by  Kelly  in 
1792,  but  not  brought  into  use  till  Roberts  improved  it  in 
1825,1  None  of  these  by  themselves  would  have  revolu- 
tionised the  industry.  But  in  1769 — the  year  in  which 
Napoleon  and  Wellington  were  born — James  Watt  took  out 
his  patent  for  the  steam-engine.  Sixteen  years  later  it  was 
applied  to  the  cotton  manufacture.  In  1785  Boulton  and 
Watt  made  an  engine  for  a  cotton-mill  at  Papplewick  in 
Notts,  and  in  the  same  year  Arkwright's  patent  expired. 
These  two  facts  taken  together  mark  the  introduction  of  the 
factory  system.  But  the  most  famous  invention  of  all,  and 
the  most  fatal  to  domestic  industry,  the  power-loom,  though 
also  patented  by  Cartwriglit  in  1785,  did  not  come  into  use 
for  several  years,^  and  till  the  power-loom  was  introduced 
the  workman  was  hardly  injured.  At  first,  in  fact, 
machinery  raised  the  wages  of  spinners  and  weavers  owing 
to  the  great  prosperity  it  brought  to  the  trade.  In  fifteen 
years  the  cotton  trade  trebled  itself;  from  1788  to  1803 
has  been  called  its  'golden  age';  for,  before  the  power- 
loom  but  after  the  introduction  of  the  mule  and  other 
mechanical  improvements  by  which  for  the  first  time  yarn 
sufi&ciently  fine  for  muslin  and  a  variety  of  other  fabrics 
was  spun,  the  demand  became  such  that  '  old  barns,  cart- 
houses,  out-buildings  of  all  descriptions  were  repaired, 
windows  broke  through  the  old  blank  walls,  and  all  fitted 
up  for  loom-shops ;  new  weavers'  cottages  with  loom-shops 
arose  in  every  direction,  every  family  bringing  home  weekly 
from  40  to  120  shillings  per  week.''  At  a  later  date,  the 
condition  of  the  workman  was  very  different.  Meanwhile, 
the  iron  industry  had  been  equally  revolutionised  by  the 
invention  of  smelting  by  pit-coal  brought  into  use  between 
1740  and  1750,  and  by  the  application  in  1788  of  the  steam- 
engine  to  blast  furnaces.    In  the  eight  years  which  followed 

*  B&inen,  paaahn. 

>  In  1813  there  were  only  2400  in  use :  in  1820  there  were  14,150 ;  and 
In  1833,  over  100,000.     Bainea,  pp.  235-7. 
'  Radcliffe,  quoted  by  Caiacs,  pp.  338-9. 


ITS  CHIEF  FEATUEES  71 

this  later  date,  the  amount  of  iron  manufactured  nearly 
doubled  itself.^ 

A  further  growth  of  the  factory  system  took  place  indepen- 
dent of  machinery,  and  owed  its  origin  to  the  expansion  of 
trade,  an  expansion  which  was  itself  due  to  the  great 
advance  made  at  this  time  in  the  means  of  communication. 
The  canal  system  was  being  rapidly  developed  throughout 
the  country.  In  1777  the  Grand  Trunk  canal,  96  miles  in 
length,  connecting  the  Trent  and  Mersey,  was  finished ;  Hull 
and  Liverpool  were  connected  by  one  canal  while  another 
connected  them  both  with  Bristol ;  and  in  1792,  the  Grand 
Junction  canal,  90  miles  in  length,  made  a  water-way 
from  London  through  Oxford  to  the  chief  midland  towns.' 
Some  years  afterwards,  the  roads  were  greatly  improved 
under  Telford  and  Macadam;  between  1818  and  1829  more 
than  a  thousand  additional  miles  of  turnpike  road  were 
constructed;'  and  the  next  year,  1830,  saw  the  opening  of 
the  first  railroad.  These  improved  means  of  communica- 
tion caused  an  extraordinary  increase  in  commerce,  and  to 
secure  a  sufficient  supply  of  goods  it  became  the  interest  of 
the  merchants  to  collect  weavers  around  them  in  great 
numbers,  to  get  looms  together  in  a  workshop,  and  to  give 
out  the  warp  themselves  to  the  workpeople.  To  these 
latter  this  system  meant  a  change  from  independence  to 
dependence ;  at  the  beginning  of  the  century  the  report  of 
a  committee  asserts  that  the  essential  difference  between 
the  domestic  and  the  factory  system  is,  that  in  the  latter 
the  work  is  done  '  by  persons  who  have  no  property  in  the 
goods  they  manufacture.'  Another  direct  consequence  of 
this  expansion  of  trade  was  the  regular  recurrence  of  periods 
of  over-production  and  of  depression,  a  phenomenon  quite 
unknown  under  the  old  system,  and  due  to  this  new  form  of 
production  on  a  large  scale  for  a  distant  market 

These  altered   conditions   in   the  production   of  wealth 
necessarily  involved  an  equal  revolution  in  its  distribution. " 
In  agriculture  the  prominent  fact  is  an  enormous  rise  in 
rents.     Up  to  1795,  though  they  had  risen  in  some  places, 
in  others  they  had  been  stationary  since  the  Revolution.* 

'  Scrirenor,  pp.  83,  87,  93. 

•  M'CuUoch's  Commtrciai  Dictionary,  pp.  233,  234. 

»  Porter,  p.  293.  *  Edea,  ii.  292. 


72  THE  INDUSTRIAL  REVOLUTION 

But  between  1790  and  1833,  according  to  Porter,  they  at 
least  doubled.^  In  Scotland,  the  rental  of  land,  which  in 
1795  had  amounted  to  £2,000,000,  had  risen  in  1815  to 
£5,278,686.2  A  farm  in  Essex,  which  before  1793  had 
been  rented  at  10s.  an  acre,  was  let  in  1812  at  50s.,  though, 
six  years  after,  this  had  fallen  again  to  35s.  In  Berks  and 
Wilts,  farms  which  in  1790  were  let  at  Hs.,  were  let  in 
1810  at  70s.,  and  in  1820  at  50s.  Much  of  this  rise,  doubt- 
less, was  due  to  money  invested  in  improvements — the  first 
Lord  Leicester  is  said  to  have  expended  £400,000  on  his 
property' — but  it  was  far  more  largely  the  effect  of  the 
enclosure  system,  of  the  consolidation  of  farms,  and  of  the 
high  price  of  corn  during  the  French  war.  Whatever  may 
have  been  its  causes,  however,  it  represented  a  great  social 
revolution,  a  change  in  the  balance  of  political  power  and  in 
the  relative  position  of  classes.  The  farmers  shared  in  the 
prosperity  of  the  landlords ;  for  many  of  them  held  their 
farms  under  beneficial  leases,  and  made  large  profits  by 
them.  In  consequence,  their  character  completely  changed ; 
they  ceased  to  work  and  live  with  their  labourers,  and  be- 
came a  distinct  class.  The  high  prices  of  the  war  time 
thoroughly  demoralised  them,  for  their  wealth  then  in- 
creased so  fast,  that  they  were  at  a  loss  what  to  do  with  it. 
Cobbett  has  described  the  change  in  their  habits,  the  new 
food  and  furniture,  the  luxury  and  drinking,  which  were 
the  consequences  of  more  money  coming  into  their  hands 
than  they  knew  how  to  spend.*  Meanwhile,  the  effect  of 
all  these  agrarian  changes  upon  the  condition  of  the 
labourer  was  an  exactly  opposite  and  most  disastrous  one. 
He  felt  all  the  burden  of  high  prices,  while  his  wages  were 
steadily  falling,  and  he  had  lost  his  common-rights.  It  is 
from  this  period,  viz.,  the  beginning  of  the  present  century, 
that  the  alienation  between  farmer  and  labourer  may  be 
dated.^ 

*  Porter,  pp.  151, 165.         '  Encydopcedia  Britannica,  sub  '  Agriculture.' 
'  The  stock-jobbers,  e.g.   Ricardo,  bought  up   estates,  and    property 

very  much  changed  hands.  The  new  landlords  were  probably  more 
capable  of  developing  the  resources  of  their  properties. 

*  Cobbett's  Bural  Bides,  Reigate,  October  20,  1826,  p.  241  (ed.  1830). 
Of.  Martineau's  History  of  England  from  1800  to  1815  (1878),  p.  18. 

*  Report  of  Committee  on  labourers'  wages  (1824),  p.  57. 


ITS  CHIEF  FEATURES  73 

Exactly  analogous  phenomena  appeared  in  the  manufac- 
turing world.  The  new  class  of  great  capitalist  employers 
made  enormous  fortunes,  they  took  little  or  no  part 
personally  in  the  work  of  their  factories,  their  hundreds  of 
workmen  were  individually  unknown  to  them;  and  as  a 
consequence,  the  old  relations  between  masters  and  men 
disappeared,  and  a  'cash  nexus'  was  substituted  for  the 
human  tie.  The  workmen  on  their  side  resorted  to  combi- 
nation, and  Trades-Unions  began  a  fight  which  looked  as  if 
it  were  between  mortal  enemies  rather  than  joint  producers. 
The  misery  which  came  upon  large  sections  of  the  working 
people  at  this  epoch  was  often,  though  not  always,  due  to  a 
fall  in  wages,  for,  as  I  said  above,  in  some  industries  they 
rose.  But  they  suffered  likewise  from  the  conditions  of 
labour  under  the  factory  system,  from  the  rise  of  prices, 
especially  from  tlie  high  price  of  bread  before  the  repeal  of 
the  corn-laws,  and  from  those  sudden  fluctuations  of  trade, 
which,  ever  since  production  has  been  on  a  large  scale, 
have  exposed  them  to  recurrent  periods  of  bitter  distress. 
The  effects  of  the  Industrial  Revolution  prove  that  free~? 
competition  may  produce  wealth  without  producing  well-  ^ 
being.  We  all  know  the  horrors  that  ensued  in  England  ) 
before  it  was  restrained  by  legislation  and  combination.*      / 


IX 

THE  GROWTH  OF  PAUPERISM 

Political  Economy  and  the  instinct  of  benevolence — The  History  of  the 
Poor  Lawj — Pauperism  in  the  sixteenth  century — The  Poor  Law  of 
1601  and  its  modificationa — Slow  growth  of  pauperism  during  the 
seventeenth  and  eighteeuth  centuries — Ita  rapid  increase  at  the  end 
of  the  latter — The  causes  of  this  development  of  pauperism  :  con- 
solidation of  farms,  enclosures,  rise  of  prices,  introduction 
of  machinery — Remedies  which  might  have  been  applied — Vicions 
principle  oi  the  old  Poor  Law. 

Malthus   tells  us  that  his  book  was  suggested  by  God- 
win's Inquiry,  but  it  was  really  prompted  by  the  rapid 

^  This  period  and  its  sufferings  are  further  treated  of  in  the  addreH 
entitled  Indrutry  and  Democracy. — Ed. 


74  THE  INDUSTRIAL  REVOLUTION 

growth  of  pauperism  which  Malthus  saw  around  him,  and 
the  book  proved  the  main  influence  which  determined  the 
reform  of  the  English  Poor  Laws.  The  problem  of  pauper- 
ism came  upon  men  in  its  most  terrible  form  between  1795 
and  1834.  The  following  statistics  will  illustrate  its 
growth : — 


Year. 

Fopnlation. 

Poor-rate. 

Per  head 
of  Population. 

1760 

7,000,000 

£1,250,000 

or  3s.  7d. 

1784 

8,000,000 

2,000,000 

or  58.  Od. 

1803 

9,216,000 

4,077,000 

or  Ss.  11  a. 

1818 

11,876,000 

7,870,000 

or  13s.  3d. 

This  was  the  highest  rate  ever  reached.  But  really  to 
understand  the  nature  of  the  problem  we  must  examine  the 
previous  history  of  pauperism,  its  causes  in  different  periods, 
and  the  main  influences  which  determined  its  increase. 

Prejudices  have  arisen  against  Political  Economy  because 
it  seemed  to  tell  men  to  follow  their  self-interest  and  to  re- 
press their  instincts  of  benevolence.  Individual  self-interest 
makes  no  provision  for  the  poor,  and  to  do  so  other  motives 
and  ideas  must  take  its  place ;  hence  the  idea  that  Political 
Economy  taught  that  no  such  provision  should  be  made. 
Some  of  the  old  economists  did  actually  say  that  people 
should  be  allowed  to  die  in  the  street.  Yet  Malthus,  with 
all  his  hatred  of  the  Poor  Law,  thought  that '  the  evil  was 
now  so  deeply  seated,  and  relief  given  by  the  Poor  Laws  so 
widely  extended,  that  no  man  of  humanity  could  venture  to 
propose  their  immediate  abolition.'  ^  The  assumed  cruelty 
of  political  economy  arises  from  a  mistaken  conception  of 
its  province,  and  from  that  confusion  of  ideas  to  which  I 
have  before  alluded,  which  turned  economic  laws  into 
practical  precepts,  and  refused  to  allow  for  the  action  of 
other  motives  by  their  side.  What  we  now  see  to  be 
required  is  not  the  repression  of  the  instincts  of  benevolence, 
but  their  organisation.  To  make  benevolence  scientific  is 
the  great  problem  of  the  present  age.  Men  formerly 
thought  that  the  simple  direct  action  of  the  benevolent  in- 
stincts by  means  of  self-denying  gifts  was  enough  to 
remedy  the  misery  they  deplored ;  now  we  see  that  not  only 

^  Estay  on  Population,  lih  edition,  p.  429. 


THE  GROWTH  OF  PAUPERISM  76 

thought  but  historical  study  is  also  uecessary.  Both  to 
understand  the  nature  of  pauperism  and  to  discover  its 
effectual  remedies,  we  must  investigate  its  earlier  history. 
But  in  doing'  this  we  should  take  to  heart  two  warnings : 
first,  not  to  interpret  mediaeval  statutes  by  modern  ideas; 
and  secondly,  not  to  assume  that  the  causes  of  pauperism 
have  always  been  the  same. 

The  history  of  the  Poor  Laws  divides  itself  into  three 
epochs;  from  1349  to  1601,  from  1601  to  1782,  and  from 
1782  to  1834.  Now,  what  v/as  the  nature  of  pauperism  in 
mediaeval  society,  and  what  were  then  the  means  of  reliev- 
ing it  ?  Certain  characteristics  are  permanent  in  all  society, 
and  thus  in  mediaeval  life  as  elsewhere  there  was  a  class  of 
impotent  poor,  who  were  neither  able  to  support  themselves 
nor  had  relatives  to  support  them.  This  was  the  only  form 
of  pauperism  in  the  early  beginnings  of  mediaeval  society, 
and  it  was  provided  for  as  follows.  The  community  was 
then  broken  up  into  groups — the  manor,  the  guild,  the 
family,  the  Church  with  its  hospitals,  and  each  group  was 
responsible  for  the  maintenance  of  all  its  members;  by 
these  means  all  classes  of  poor  were  relieved.  In  the 
towns  the  craft  and  religious  guilds  provided  for  their  own 
members ;  large  estates  in  land  were  given  to  the  guilds, 
which  'down  to  the  Reformation  formed  an  organised 
administration  of  relief ';  ('the  religious  guilds  were  organ- 
ised for  the  relief  of  distress  as  well  as  for  conjoint  and 
mutual  prayer ' ;  y — while  outside  the  guilds  there  were  the 
churches,  the  hospitals,  and  the  monasteries.  The  '  settled 
poor '  in  towns  were  relieved  by  the  guilds,  in  the  country 
by  the  lords  of  the  manor  and  the  beneficed  clergy.  '  Every 
manor  had  its  constitution,'*  says  Professor  Stubbs,  and, 
referring  to  manumission,  he  adds,  'the  native  lost  the 
privilege  of  maintenance  which  he  could  claim  of  his  lord.'* 
Among  what  were  called  '  the  vagrant  poor '  there  were  the 
professional  beggars,  who  were  scarcely  then  considered 
what  we  should  now  call  paupers,  and  'the  valiant  labourers' 
wandering  only  in  search  of  work.  "Who  then  were  the 
paupers'?     In  the  towns  there   were  the   craftsmen,   who 

'  Stubbs's  Comtitutionai  Hittory,  vol.  iii.  p,  600. 
•  Ibid.,  p.  699.  *  Ihid.,  p.  604. 


76  THE  INDUSTRIA.L  REVOLUTION 

could  not  procure  admission  into  a  guild.  In  the  country 
there  was  the  small  class  of  landless  labourers  nominally 
free.  It  is  a  great  law  of  social  development  that  the"  move- 
ment from  slavery  to  freedom  is  also  a  movement  from 
security  to  insecurity  of  maintenance.  There  is  a  close 
connection  between  the  growth  of  freedom  and  the  growth 
of  pauperism ;  it  is  scarcely  too  much  to  say  that  the  latter 
is  the  price  we  pay  for  the  former.  The  first  Statute,  which 
is  in  any  sense  a  Poor  Law,  was  enacted  at  a  time  when  the 
emancipation  of  the  serfs  was  proceeding  rapidly.  This  is 
the  Statute  of  Labourers,  made  in  1349  ;  it  has  nothing  to  do 
with  the  maintenance  of  the  poor ;  its  object  was  to  repress 
their  vagrancy.^ 

This  Statute  has  been  variously  interpreted.  According  to 
some,^  it  was  simply  an  attempt  of  the  landowners  to  force 
the  labourers  to  take  the  old  wages  of  the  times  before  the 
Plague.  Others  object,  with  Brentano,  to  this  interpreta- 
tion, and  believe  that  it  was  not  an  instance  of  class  legisla- 
tion, but  merely  expressed  the  mediaeval  idea  that  prices 
should  be  determined  by  what  was  thought  reasonable  and 
not  by  competition;  for  this  same  Statute  regulates  the 
prices  of  provisions  and  almost  everything  which  was  sold 
at  the  time.  Probably  Brentano  is  in  the  main  right.  It  is 
true  that  the  landowners  did  legislate  with  the  knowledge 
that  the  Statute  would  be  to  their  own  advantage  ;  but  the 
law  is  none  the  less  in  harmony  with  all  the  ideas  of  the 
age.  The  Statute  affected  the  labourer  in  two  directions :  it 
fixed  his  wages,  and  it  prevented  him  from  migrating.  It 
was  followed  by  the  Statute  of  1388,  which  is  sometimes 
called  the  beginning  of  the  English  Poor  Law.  "We  here 
find  the  first  distinction  between  the  impotent  and  the  able- 
bodied  poor.  This  law  decreed  that  if  their  neighbours 
would  not  provide  for  the  poor,  they  were  to  seek  mainten- 
ance elsewhere  in  the  hundred;  no  one  is  considered  re- 
sponsible for  them ;  it  is  assumed  that  the  people  of  the 
parish  will  support  them.  Here  too  we  catch  the  first 
glimpse  of  a  law  of  settlement  in  the  provision  that  no 

^  NichoUs's  History  of  the  Poor  Law,  i.  36. 

'  e.g.  Seebohm  in  Fortnightly  Review,  ii.   270.      See    CunniDgham'i 
Growth  of  English  Induntry  and  Commerct,  p.  191. 


THE  GEOWTH  OF  PAUPEEISil  77 

labourer  or  pauper  shall  wander  oat  of  his  hundred  unless 
he  carry  a  lett€r-pat€nt  with  him. 

No  exact  date  can  be  assigned  to  the  growth  of  able- 
bodied  pauperism.  It  was  the  result  of  gradual  social 
changes,  and  of  the  inability  to  understand  them.  Mediaeval 
legislators  could  not  grasp  the  necessity  for  the  mobility  of 
labour,  nor  could  they  see  that  compulsory  provision  for  the 
poor  was  essential,  though  the  Statute  of  1388  shows  that 
the  bond  beween  lord  and  dependant  was  snapped,  and 
security  for  their  maintenance  in  this  way  already  at  an 
end.  The  Church  and  private  charity  were  deemed  suffi- 
cient; though  it  is  true  that  laws  were  passed  to  prevent 
the  alienation  of  funds  destined  for  the  poor.*  And  with 
regard  to  the  mobility  of  labour,  we  must  remember  that 
the  vagrancy  of  the  times  did  not  imply  the  distress  of 
the  labourers,  but  their  prosperity.  The  scarcity  of  labour 
allowed  of  high  wages,  and  the  vagrant  labourer  of  the  time 
seems  never  to  have  been  satisfied,  but  always  wandering 
in  search  of  still  higher  wages.  The  stability  of  mediaeval 
society  depended  on  the  fixity  of  all  its  parts,  as  that  of 
modern  society  is  founded  on  their  mobility.  The  Statutes 
afford  evidence  that  high  wages  and  the  destruction  of  old 
ties  did  in  fact  lead  to  disorder,  robbery  and  violence ;  and 
by  and  by  we  find  the  condition  of  the  labourer  reversed; 
in  the  next  period  he  is  a  vagrant,  because  he  cannot  find 
work. 

In  the  sixteenth  century  pauperism  was  becoming  a  really 
serious  matter.  If  we  ask.  What  were  its  causes  then,  and 
what  the  remedies  proposed,  we  shall  find  that  at  the 
beginning  of  the  century  a  great  "agrarian  revolution  was 
going  on,  during  which  pauperism  largely  increased.  Farms 
were  consolidated,  and  arable  converted  into  pasture ; '  in 
consequence,  where  two  hundred  men  had  lived  there  were 
now  only  two  or  three  herdsmen.  There  was  no  employ- 
ment for  the  dispossessed  farmers,  who  became  simple 
vagabonds,  'valiant  beggars,'  until  later  they  were  absorbed 

^  A  law  of  15  Richard  n.  (c.  15)  euacts  that  if  'a  parish  church  ia 
appropriated,'  the  'diocesan  shall  ordain  a  convenient  sum  of  money  to 
be  distributed  yearly  of  the  fruiia  and  profits  of  the  same  to  the  poor 
parishioners  in  aid  of  their  living  and  sustenance,  for  ever.* 

'  More's  Utopia  (Arber's  Reprints),  p.  41. 


78  THE  INDUSTRIAL  REVOLUTION 

into  the  towns  by  the  increase  of  trade.  A  main  cause  of 
the  agrarian  changes  was  the  dissolution  of  monasteries, 
though  it  was  one  that  acted  only  indirectly,  by  the  monastic 
properties  passing  into  the  hands  of  new  men  who  did  not 
hesitate  to  evict  without  scruple.  About  the  same  time  the 
prices  of  provisions  rose  through  the  influx  of  the  precious 
metals  and  the  debasement  of  the  coiuage.  And  while  the 
prices  of  corn  in  1541-82  rose  240  per  cent,  as  compared 
with  the  past  one  hundred  and  forty  years,  wages  rose  only 
160  per  cent.^  In  this  fact  we  discover  a  second  great  cause 
of  the  pauperism  of  the  time;  just  as  at  the  end  of  the 
eighteenth  century  we  find  wages  the  last  to  rise,  and  the 
labouring  man  the  greatest  sufferer  from  increased  prices. 
As  regards  the  growth  of  pauperism  in  towns,  the  main 
cause  may  be  found  in  the  confiscation  of  the  estates  of  the 
guilds  by  the  Protector  Somerset.^  These  guilds  had  been 
practically  friendly  societies,  and  depended  for  their  funds 
upon  their  landed  properties. 

And  how  did  statesmen  then  deal  with  these  phenomena  ? 
The  legislation  of  the  age  about  '  vagabonds '  is  written  in 
blood.  The  only  remedy  suggested  was  to  punish  the 
vagrant  by  cruel  tortures — by  whipping  and  branding. 
Even  death  was  resorted  to  after  a  second  or  third  offence ; 
and  though  these  penalties  proved  very  ineffectual,  the 
system  was  not  abandoned  till  the  law  of  43  Elizabeth 
recognised  that  punishment  had  failed  as  a  remedy.  The 
other  class  of  paupers,  the  impotent  poor,  had  been  directed 
by  a  Statute  of  Eichard  ii.  to  beg  within  a  certain  limited 
area ;  in  the  reigns  of  Edward  VI.  and  Elizabeth  the  neces- 
sity of  compulsory  provision  for  this  class  of  poor  slowly 
dawned  upon  men's  minds.  At  first  the  churchwardens 
were  ordered  to  summon  meetings  for  the  purpose  of  collect- 
ing alms,  and  overseers  were  appointed  who  '  shall  gently 
ask  and  demand '  of  every  man  and  woman  what  they  of 
their  charity  will  give  weekly  towards  the  relief  of  the  poor. 
Mayors,  head-officers,  and  churchwardens  were  to  collect 
money  in  boxes  '  every  Sunday  and  holyday.'  The  parsons, 
vicar  and  curate,  were  to  reason  with  those  who  would  not 

'  Rogers's  History  of  Agriculture  and  Prices,  toI.  iv.  pp.  718-19. 
»  StubbB,  iii.  p.  600. 


THE  GROWTH  OF  PAUPEEISM  79 

give,  and  if  they  were  not  successful,  the  obstinate  person 
was  to  be  sent  to  the  bishop,  who  was  to  '  induce  and  per- 
suade him ' ;  or  by  the  provisions  of  a  later  law,  he  was  to 
be  assessed  at  Quarter  Sessions  (1562).  Such  was  the  first 
recognition  of  the  principle  of  compulsory  support,  of  the 
fact  that  there  are  men  in  the  community  whom  no  one  will 
relieve.  There  appears  upon  the  scene  for  the  first  time  the 
isolated  individual,  a  figure  unknown  to  mediaeval  society, 
but  who  constitutes  so  striking  a  phenomenon  in  the  modern 
world.  And  hence  springs  up  a  new  relation  between  the 
State  and  the  individual  Since  the  latter  is  no  longer  a 
member  of  a  compact  group,  the  Stat€  itself  has  to  enter 
into  direct  connection  with  him.  Thus,  by  the  growth  at 
once  of  freedom  and  of  poverty,  the  whole  status  of  the 
working  classes  had  been  changed,  and  the  problem  of 
modem  legislation  came  to  be  this :  to  discover  how  we  can 
have  a  working  class  of  free  men,  who  shall  yet  find  it  easy 
to  obtain  sustenance;  in  other  words,  how  to  combine 
political  and  material  freedom. 

All  the  principles  of  our  modem  Poor  Laws  are  found  in 
the  next  Statute  we  have  to  notice,  the  great  law  of  the 
1 43rd  year  of  Elizabeth,  which  drew  the  sharp  distinction, 
lever  since  preserved,  between  the  able-bodied  and  the 
i  impotent  poor.  The  latter  were  to  be  relieved  by  a  com- 
pulsory rate  collected  by  the  overseers,  the  former  were  to 
be  set  to  work  upon  materials  provided  out  of  the  rates ; 
children  and  orphans  were  to  be  apprenticed.  From  this 
date  1601,  there  were  no  fundamental  changes  in  the  law 
till  the  end  of  the  eighteenth  century.  The  law  of  settle- 
ment, however,  which  sprang  directly  out  of  the  Act  of 
Elizabeth,  was  added  ;  it  was  the  first  attempt  to  prevent 
the  migration  of  labourers  by  other  means  than  punishment. 
It  began  with  the  Statute  of  1662,  which  allowed  a  pauper 
to  obtain  relief  only  from  that  parish  where  he  had  his 
settlement,  and  defined  settlement  as  forty  days'  residence 
without  interruption ;  but  after  this  Statute  there  were 
constant  changes  in  the  law,  leading  to  endless  complica- 
tions; and  more  litigation  took  place  on  this  question  of 
settlement  than  on  any  other  point  of  the  Poor  Law.  It 
was  not  till  1795  that  the  hardship  of  former  enactments 


80  THE  INDUSTRIAL  REVOLUTION 

was  mitigated  by  an  Act  under  which  no  new  settler  could 
be  removed  until  he  became  actually  chargeable  to  the 
parish.^ 

Two  other  modifications  of  the  Act  of  Elizabeth  require 
to  be  noticed.  In  1691  the  administration  of  relief  was 
partially  taken  out  of  the  hands  of  the  overseers  and  given 
to  the  Justices  of  the  Peace,  the  alleged  reason  being  that 
the  overseers  had  abused  their  power.  Henceforth  they 
were  not  allowed  to  relieve  except  by  order  of  a  Justice  of 
the  Peace,  and  this  provision  was  construed  into  a  powei 
conferred  upon  the  Justices  to  give  relief  independently  of 
any  application  on  the  part  of  the  overseers,  and  led,  in  fact, 
to  Justices  ordering  relief  at  their  own  discretion.  The 
other  important  change  in  the  Poor  Law  was  the  introduc- 
tion of  the  workhouse  test  in  1722.  It  is  clear  that 
pauperism  had  grown  since  the  reign  of  Charles  ii.  There 
are  many  pamphlets  of  the  period  full  of  suggestions  as  to  a 
remedy,  but  the  only  successful  idea  was  this  of  the  work- 
house test.  Parishes  were  now  empowered  to  unite  and 
build  a  workhouse,  and  refuse  relief  to  all  who  would  not 
enter  it ;  but  the  clauses  for  building  workhouses  remained 
inoperative,  as  very  few  parishes  would  adopt  them. 

The  question  remains  to  be  asked :  Why  was  pauperism 
still  slowly  increasing  in  the  course  of  the  seventeenth  and 
eighteenth  centuries  in  spite  of  a  rise  in  wages,  and,  during 
the  first  half  of  the  eighteenth  century,  a  low  price  of  corn  ? 
Enclosures  and  the  consolidation  of  farms,  though  as  yet 
these  had  been  on  a  comparatively  small  scale,  were  partly 
responsible  for  it,  as  they  were  in  an  earlier  century. 
Already,  in  1727,  it  was  said  that  some  owners  were  much 
too  eager  to  evict  farmers  and  cottagers,  and  were  punished 
by  an  increase  of  rates  consequent  on  the  evicted  tenants 
sinking  into  pauperism.^  By  Eden's  time  the  practice  of 
eviction  had  become  general,  and  the  connection  between 
eviction  and  pauperism  is  an  indisputable  fact,  though  it 
has  been   overlooked   by   most  writers.     Eden's  evidence 

^  See  Adam  Smith's  sketch  of  the  Law  of  Settlement  in  his  chapter  on 
Wages ;  and  on  the  Poor  Laws  generally,  Fowle's  History  of  the  Poor 
Law,  in  the  English  Citizen  Series. 

'  Laurence,  pp.  3,  4. 


THE  GROWTH  OF  PAUPERISM  81 

again  shows  that  pauperism  was  greatest  where  enclosures 
had  taken  place.  At  Winslow,  for  instance,  enclosed  in 
1744  and  1766,  *  the  rise  of  the  rates  was  chiefly  ascribed  to 
the  enclosure  of  the  common  fields,  which,  it  was  said,  had 
lessened  the  number  of  farms,  and  from  the  conversion  of 
arable  into  pasture  had  much  reduced  the  demand  for 
labourers.'  Again,  at  Kilworth-Beauchamp  in  Leicester- 
shire, '  the  fields  being  now  in  pasturage,  the  farmers  had 
little  occasion  for  labourers,  and  the  poor  being  thereby 
thrown  out  of  employment  had,  of  course,  to  be  supported 
by  the  parish.'  ^  Here  too  the  evil  was  aggravated  by  the 
fate  of  the  ejected  farmers,  who  sank  into  the  condition  of 
labourers,  and  swelled  the  numbers  of  the  unemployed. 
'Living  in  a  state  of  servile  dependence  on  the  large 
farmers,  and  having  no  prospect  to  which  their  hopes  could 
reasonably  look  forward,  their  industry  was  checked, 
economy  was  deprived  of  its  greatest  stimulation,  and  their 
only  thought  was  to  enjoy  the  present  moment.'  Again,  at 
Blandford,  where  the  same  consolidation  of  farms  had  been 
going  on,  Eden  remarks  that  '  its  effects,  it  is  said,  oblige 
small  industrious  farmers  to  turn  labourers  or  servants,  who, 
seeing  no  opening  towards  advancement,  become  regardless 
of  futurity,  spend  their  little  wages  as  they  receive  them 
without  reserving  a  pension  for  their  old  age;  and,  if 
incapacitated  from  working  by  a  sickness  which  lasts  a  very 
short  time,  inevitably  fall  upon  the  parish.' ' 

Besides  the  enclosure  of  the  common-fields,  and  the  con- 
solidation of  farms,  the  enclosure  of  the  commons  and 
wastes  likewise  contributed  to  the  growth  of  pauperism. 
Arthur  Young  and  Eden  thought  that  commons  were  a 
cause  of  idleness  ;  the  labourers  wasted  their  time  in  gather- 
ing sticks  or  grubbing  furze ;  their  pigs  and  cows  involved 
perpetual  disputes  with  their  neighbours,  and  were  a  constant 
temptation  to  trespass.'    No  doubt  this  was  true  where  the 

*  State  of  the  Poor,  ii.  30,  384.  See  also  pamphlet  by  James  Massie 
(1758)  quoted  ibid.,  i.  329. 

«  Ibid.,  ii.  650,  147. 

'  Ibid.,  i.  xYiii.  Eden  himself  was  in  favour  of  enclosures,  thinking 
that  the  increased  demand  for  regular  labour  consequent  upon  them 
would  more  than  compensate  the  labourer,  but  wished  each  labourer  to 
have  '  a  garden  and  a  little  croft '  reserved. 

V 


82  THE  INDUSTRIAL  REVOLUTION 

common  was  large  enough  to  support  the  poor  without  other 
occupation.  But  on  the  other  hand,  where  the  labourer 
was  regularly  employed,  a  small  common  was  a  great  extra 
resource  to  him.  Arthur  Young  himself  mentions  a  case  at 
Snettisham  in  Norfolk,  where,  when  the  waste  was  enclosed, 
the  common  rights  had  been  preserved,  and  as  a  result  of 
this,  combined  with  the  increased  labour  due  to  the 
enclosure,  the  poor-rates  fell  from  Is.  6d.  to  Is.  or  9d.,  while 
population  grew  from  five  to  six  hundred.  He  goes  on  to 
say  that  enclosures  had  generally  been  carried  out  with  an 
utter  disregard  for  the  rights  of  the  poor.  According  to 
Thornton,  the  formation  of  parks  contributed  to  the  general 
result,  but  I  know  of  no  evidence  on  this  head. 

A  further  cause  of  pauperism,  when  we  come  to  the  end  of 
the  century,  was  the  great  rise  in  prices  as  compared  with 
that  in  wages.  In  1782  the  price  of  corn  was  53s.  9^d., 
which  was  considerably  higher  than  the  average  of  the  pre- 
ceding fifty  years;  but  in  1795  it  had  risen  to  bis,  6d.,  and 
in  the  next  year  it  was  even  more.  The  corn  average  from 
1795  to  1805  was  81s.  2|d.,  and  from  1805  to  1815  978.  6d. 
In  1800  and  1301  it  reached  the  maximum  of  127s.  and 
128s.  6d.,  which  brought  us  nearer  to  a  famine  than  we  had 
been  since  the  fourteenth  century.  Mauy  other  articles  had 
risen  too.  The  taxes  necessitated  by  the  debt  contracted 
during  the  American  war  raised  the  prices  of  soap,  leather, 
candles,  etc.,  by  one-fifth;  butter  and  cheese  rose  l|d.  a 
pound,  meat  Id.  And  meanwhile,  'what  advance  during 
the  last  ten  or  twelve  years,'  asks  a  writer  in  1788, 'has 
been  made  in  the  wages  of  labourers  ?  Very  little  indeed ; 
in  their  daily  labour  nothing  at  all,  either  in  husbandry  or 
manufactures.'  Only  by  piece-work  could  they  obtain  more 
in  nominal  wages.^  Lastly,  in  the  towns  there  had  come 
the  introduction  of  machinery,  the  final  establishment  of  the 
cash-nexus,  and  the  beginning  of  great  fluctuations  in  trade. 
In  the  old  days  the  employer  maintained  his  men  when  out 
of  work,  now  he  repudiated  the  responsibility;  and  the 
decline  in  the  position  of  the  artisan  could  be  attributed  by 
contemporary  writers  to  '  the  iniquitous  oppressive  practices 
of  those  who  have  the  direction  of  them.'  * 

•  Howlett,  quoted  in  Eden,  i.  380  et  seq.  ^  Uowlett,  he.  cit. 


THE  GROWTH  OF  PAUPERISM  88 

Such  seem  to  have  been  the  causes  of  the  growth  of 
pauperism  and  of  the  degradation  of  the  labourer;  the 
single  effective  remedy  attempted  was  the  workhouse  test, 
and  this  was  abandoned  in  1782.  But  might  not  landlords 
and  farmers  have  done  something  more  to  check  the  down- 
ward course  ?  Were  there  no  possible  remedies  ?  One 
cannot  help  thinking  the  problem  might  have  been  solved 
by  common  justice  in  the  matter  of  enclosures.  Those  who 
were  most  in  favour  of  enclosing  for  the  sake  of  agricultural 
improvements,  like  Eden  and  Young,  yet  held  that,  in  place 
of  his  common  field  and  pasture  rights,  the  labourer  should 
have  had  an  acre,  or  two  acres,  or  half  an  acre,  as  the  case 
might  be,  attached  to  his  cottage.  By  such  compensation 
much  misery  would  have  been  prevented.  A  more  difficult 
question  is,  whether  anything  could  have  been  done  directly 
to  relieve  the  stress  of  high  prices  ?  Burke  contended  that 
nothing  could  be  done,  that  there  was  no  necessary  connec- 
tion between  wages  and  prices ;  and  he  would  have  left  the 
evil  to  natural  remedies.^  And,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  in  the 
North  where  there  was  no  artificial  interference  with  wages, 
the  development  of  mining  and  manufactures  saved  the 
labourer. 

In  the  Midlands  and  South,  where  this  needful  stimulus 
was  absent,  the  case  was  different;  some  increase  in  the 
labourer's  means  of  subsistence  was  absolutely  necessary 
here,  in  order  that  he  might  exist.  It  would  have  been 
dangerous  to  let  things  alone;  and  the  true  way  to  meet 
the  difficulty  would  have  been  for  the  farmers  to  have 
raised  wages — a  course  of  action  which  they  have  at  times 
adopted.  But  an  absence  alike  of  intelligence  and  gener- 
osity, and  the  vicious  working  of  the  Poor  Laws  in  the 

*  'It  is  not  tme  that  the  rate  of  wages  has  not  increased  with  the 
nominal  price  of  provisions.  I  alJo-^  it  haa  not  fluctuated  with  that  price, 
nor  ought  it ;  and  the  squires  of  Norfolk  had  dined,  when  ihey  gave  it  as 
their  opinion,  that  it  might  or  it  ought  to  rise  with  the  market  of  pro- 
visions. The  rate  of  wages  haa  in  truth  no  direct  relation  to  that  price. 
Labour  is  a  commodity  like  any  other,  and  rises  or  falls  according  to  the 
demand.  This  is  in  the  nature  of  things  ;  however,  the  nature  of  things 
has  provided  for  their  necessities.  Wagea  have  been  twice  raised  in  my 
time  ;  and  they  bear  a  full  proportion  or  even  a  greater  than  formerly  to 
the  medium  of  provision  during  the  last  bad  cycle  of  twenty  years.' — 
Thoughts  and  Dttaila  on  Scarcity,  Burke's  Works,  vol.  v.  p.  85. 


84  THE  INDUSTRIAL  REVOLUTION 

midland  and  southern  counties,  prevented  this.  The  farmers 
refused  to  recognise  the  claims  alike  of  humanity  and  self- 
interest,  so  the  justices  and  country  gentlemen  took  the 
matter  into  their  own  hands,  while  the  labourers  threw 
themselves  upon  the  Poor  Law,  and  demanded  that  the 
parish  should  do  what  the  farmers  refused  to  do,  and  should 
supplement  insufficient  wages  by  an  allowance.  This  was 
the  principle  which  radically  vitiated  the  old  Poor  Law. 
The  farmers  supported  the  system ;  they  wished  every  man 
to  have  an  allowance  according  to  his  family,  and  declared 
that '  high  wages  and  free  labour  would  overwhelm  them.' 
A  change  had  also  come  over  the  minds  of  the  landowners 
as  to  their  relation  to  the  people.  In  addition  to  unthink- 
ing and  ignorant  benevolence,  we  can  trace  the  growth  of  a 
sentiment  which  admitted  an  unconditional  right  on  the 
part  of  the  poor  to  an  indefinite  share  in  the  national 
wealth;  but  the  right  was  granted  in  such  a  way  as  to 
keep  them  in  dependence  and  diminish  their  self-respect. 
Though  it  was  increased  by  the  panic  of  the  French  revolu- 
tion, this  idea  of  bribing  the  people  into  passiveness  was 
not  absolutely  new;  it  had  prompted  Gilbert's  Act  in  1782, 
which  abolished  the  workhouse  test,  and  provided  work  for 
those  who  were  willing  near  their  homes.  It  was  this  Tory 
Socialism,^  this  principle  of  protection  of  the  poor  by  the 
rich,  which  gave  birth  to  the  frequent  use  of  the  term 
'  labouring  poor,'  so  common  in  the  Statutes  and  in  Adam 
Smith,  an  expression  which  Burke  attacked  as  a  detestable 
canting  phrase.^ 

The  war  with  Napoleon  gave  a  new  impulse  to  this 
pauperising  policy.  Pitt  and  the  country  gentlemen  wanted 
strong  armies  to  fight  the  French,  and  reversed  the  old 
policy  as  regards  checks  upon  population.  Hitherto  they 
had  exercised  control  over  the  numbers  of  the  labourers  by 
refusing  to  build  cottages;  in  1771,  'an  open  war  against 
cottages '  had  been  carried  on,  and  landlords  often  pulled 

1  There  has  always  been  more  practical  Socialism  in  England  than 
elsewhere  owing  to  our  ruling  landed  aristocracy.  The  Factory  Act  of 
18-17  was  carried  by  the  Conservatives  in  the  teoth  of  the  Radical  mann- 
facturers.     [See,  Are  Rmlicah  Socialialsf — Ed.] 

'  Burlio's  Works,  vol.  v.  p.  8-1. 


THE  GEOWTH  OF  PAUPERISM  85 

down  cottages,  says  Arthur  Young, '  that  they  may  never 
become  the  nests,  as  they  are  called,  of  beggar  brats.'  *  But 
now  by  giving  extra  allowance  to  large  families,  they  put 
a  premium  on  early  marriages,  and  labourers  were  paid 
according  to  the  number  of  their  children.  Further  exten- 
sion of  the  allowance  system  came  from  actual  panic  at 
home.  Farmers  and  landowners  were  intimidated  by  the 
labourers:  the  landowners  had  themselves  according  to 
Multhus  at  once  inflamed  the  minds  of  their  labourers  and 
preached  to  them  submission.*  Eick-burning  was  frequent ; 
at  Swallowfield,  in  Wiltshire,  the  justices,  'under  the  influ- 
ence of  the  panic  struck  by  the  fires,  so  far  yielded  to  the 
importunity  of  the  farmers  as  to  adopt  the  allowance-system 
during  the  winter  months.'  In  1795  some  Berkshire 
justices  '  and  other  discreet  persons '  issued  a  proclamation, 
which  came  to  be  considered  as  a  guide  to  all  the  magis- 
trates of  the  South  of  England.'  They  declared  it  to  be 
their  unanimous  opinion  that  the  state  of  the  poor  required 
further  assistance  than  had  been  generally  given  them ;  and 
with  this  view  they  held  it  inexpedient  to  regulate  wages 
according  to  the  statutes  of  Elizabeth  and  James ;  they 
would  earnestly  recommend  farmers  and  others  to  increase 
the  pay  of  their  labourers  in  proportion  to  the  present  price 
of  provisions ;  but  if  the  farmers  refused,  they  would  make 
an  allowance  to  every  poor  family  in  proportion  to  its 
numbers.  They  stated  what  they  thought  necessary  for  a 
man  and  his  wife  and  children,  which  was  to  be  produced 
'  either  by  his  own  and  his  family's  labour  on  an  allowance 
from  the  poor-rates.'  *  These  were  the  beginnings  of  the 
allowance  system,  which  under  its  many  forms  ended  in 

'  Farvfitr^a  Leiiera,  vol.  i.  p.  302. 

■  *  During  the  late  dearth  half  of  the  gentlemen  and  clergymen  in  the 
kingdom  richly  deserved  to  have  been  prosecuted  for  ledition.  After 
inflaming  the  minds  of  the  common  people  against  the  faimers  and  corn- 
dealers  by  the  manner  in  which  they  talked  of  them  or  preached  about 
them,  it  vas  a  feeble  antidote  to  the  poison  which  they  had  infused, 
coldly  to  obsei've  that  however  the  poor  might  be  oppressed  or  cheated 
it  was  their  duty  to  keep  the  peace.' — Malthus,  Principle  of  Population, 
7th  ed.  p.  438,  note. 

*  This  was  the  famous  '  Speenhamland  Act  of  Parliament,'  so  called 
because  the  Magistrates  met  at  Speenhamland,  near  Newbury. 

*  Nicholl'a  Eistory  o/ the  Poor  Law,  vol.  ii.  p.  137. 


86  THE  INDUSTRIAL  REVOLUTION 

thoroughly  demoralising  the  people ;  it  had  not  been  long 

in  operation  before  we  hear  the  labourers  described  as  lazy, 

mutinous,  and  imperious  to  the  overseers.    When  grants  in 

aid  of  wages  were  deemed  insufficient,  the  men  would  go  to 

a  magistrate  to  complain,  the  magistrate  would  appeal  to 

the  humanity  of  the  overseer,  the  men  would  add  threats, 

and  the  overseer  would  give  in.     In  the  parish  of  Bancliffe 

'  a  man  was  employed  to  look  after  the  paupers,  but  they 

.  threatened  to  drown  him,  and  he  was  obliged  to  withdraw.' 

■The  whole  character  of  the  people  was  lowered  by  the 

I  admission  that  they  had  a  right  to  relief  independent  of 

'  work. 


MALTHUS  AND  THE  LAW  OF  POPULATION 

Malthus  and  Godwin — Malthus's  two  propositions — The  Law  of  Diminish- 
ing Returns  certainly  true — The  Law  of  Population  not  universally 
true — Henry  George  on  Malthus — The  causes  of  the  growth  of 
population  in  rural  districts  and  in  towns  in  the  Eighteenth  Cen- 
tury— Malthus's  remedies :  Abolition  of  the  Poor  Law,  Moral  Re- 
straints— Actual  remedies  since  his  time :  Reform  of  the  Poor  Law, 
Emigration,  Importation  of  Food,  Moral  Restraint  in  the  middle 
and  ai'tisan  Classes — Artificial  checks  on  population  considered — 
The  problem  not  a  purely  economic  one. 

It  was  during  this  state  of  things,  with  population  rapidly 
increasing,  that  Malthus  wrote.  Yet  he  was  not  thinking 
directly  of  the  Poor  Law,  but  of  Godwin,  who,  under  the 
influence  of  Rousseau,  had  in  his  Inquirer  ascribed  all 
human  ills  to  human  government  and  institutions,  and 
drawn  bright  pictures  of  what  might  be  in  a  reformed 
society.  Malthus  denied  their  possibility.  Under  no 
system,  he  contended,  could  such  happiness  be  insured; 
jhuman  misery  was  not  the  result  of  human  injustice  and 
jof  bad  institutions,  but  of  an  inexorable  law  of  nature,  viz., 
that  population  tends  to  outstrip  the  means  of  subsistence. 
This  law  would  in  a  few  generations  counteract  the  effects 
of  the  best  institutions  that  human  wisdom  could  conceive. 
It  is  remarkable  that  though  in  his  first  edition  he  gave  a 


MALTHUS  AND  THE  LAW  OF  POPULATION      87 

conclusive  answer  to  Godwin,  Malthus  afterwards  made  an 
admission  which  deducted  a  good  deal  from  the  force  of  his 
argument.  To  the  '  positive  check  '  of  misery  and  vice,  he 
added  the  '  preventive  check '  of  moral  restraint,  namely, 
abstinence  from  marriage.^  To  this  Godwin  made  the 
obvious  reply  that  such  a  qualification  virtually  conceded 
the  perfectibility  of  society.  But  Malthus  still  thought  his 
argument  conclusive  as  against  Godwin's  Communism.'  If 
private  property  was  abolished,  he  said,  all  inducements  to 
moral  restraint  would  be  taken  away.  His  prophecy  has, 
however,  since  his  time,  been  refuted  by  the  experience  of 
the  communistic  societies  in  America,  which  proves  that 
the  absence  of  private  property  is  not  incompatible  with 
moral  restraint.' 

Is  Malthus's  law  really  true  ?  We  see  that  it  rests  on 
two  premisses.  The  first  is,  that  the  potential  rate  of 
increase  of  the  human  race  is  such  that  population,  if 
unchecked,  would  double  itself  in  twenty-five  years;  and 
Malthus  assumes  that  this  rate  is  constant  in  every  race 
and  at  all  times.  His  second  premiss  is  the  law  of  diminish- 
ing returns,  i.e.  that  after  a  certain  stage  of  cultivation  a 
given  piece  of  land  will,  despite  any  agricultural  improve- 
ments, yield  a  less  proportionate  return  to  human  labour ; 
and  this  law  is  true.  Malthus  did  not  deny  that  food 
might,  for  a  time,  increase  faster  than  population ;  but  land 
could  not  be  increased,  and  if  the  area  which  supplied  a 
people  were  restricted,  the  total  quantity  of  food  which  it 
produced  per  head  must  be  at  length  diminished,  though  this 
result  might  be  long  deferred.  Malthus  himself  regarded 
both  his  conclusions  as  equally  self-evident,      'The  first 

*  'Throughout  the  whole  of  the  present  work  I  have  so  faw  differed  in 
principle  from  the  former  as  to  suppose  the  action  of  another  check  to 
population,  which  does  not  come  under  the  head  of  either  vice  or  misery ; 
and  in  the  latter  part  I  have  endeavoured  to  soften  some  of  the  harsher 
conclusions  of  the  first  essay.' — Preface  to  2nd  edition,  p.  vii.  Cf. 
Bagehot's  Economic  Studiex,  p.  137  :  '  In  its  first  form  the  Essny  on 
Population  was  conclusive  as  an  argument,  but  it  was  based  on  untrue 
facta  ;  in  its  second  form  it  was  based  on  true  facts,  but  it  waa  inconclu- 
sive as  an  argument.' 

*  Essay  on  Population  (7th  edition),  pp.  271-80. 

*  See  Nordhoffs  Communistic  Societies  of  the  United  States ;  and  Essay 
on  Povulation,  p.  286. 


88  THE  INDUSTRIAL  REVOLUTION 

of  these  propositions,'  he  says, '  I  considered  as  proved  the 
moment  the  American  increase  was  related ;  and  the  second 
proposition  as  soon  as  it  was  enunciated.'  Why  then  did  he 
write  so  long  a  book  ?  '  The  chief  object  of  my  work,'  he  goes 
on  to  say,  '  was  to  inquire  what  effects  these  laws,  which  I 
considered  as  established  in  the  first  six  pages,  had  produced, 
and  were  likely  to  produce,  on  society  ; — a  subject  not  very 
readily  exhausted.'^  The  greater  part  of  his  essay  is  an 
historical  examination  of  the  growth  of  population  and  the 
checks  on  it  which  have  obtained  in  different  ages  and 
countries ;  and  he  applies  his  conclusion  to  the  administra- 
tion of  the  Poor  Laws  in  England. 

Now  there  are  grave  doubts  as  to  the  universal  truth 
of  his  first  premiss.  Some  of  his  earlier  opponents,  as 
Doubleday,  laid  down  the  proposition  that  fecundity  varies 
inversely  to  nutriment.*  Thus  baldly  stated  their  assertion 
is  not  true;  but  it  is  an  observed  fact,  as  Adam  Smith 
noticed  long  ago,  that  the  luxurious  classes  have  few 
children,  while  a  '  half-starved  Highland  woman '  may  have 
a  family  of  twenty.^  Mr,  Herbert  Spencer  again  has  asserted 
that  fecundity  varies  inversely  to  nervous  organisation,  and 
this  statement  has  been  accepted  by  Carey  and  Bagehot.* 
But  it  is  not  so  much  the  increase  of  brain  power  as  the 
worry  and  exhaustion  of  modern  life  which  tends  to  bring 
about  this  result.  Some  statistics  quoted  by  Mr.  Amasa 
Walker  tend  to  prove  this.  He  has  shown  that  in  Massa- 
chusetts, while  there  are  about  980,000  persons  of  native 
birth  as  against  only  260,000  immigrants,  the  number  of 
births  in  the  two  classes  is  almost  exactly  the  same,  the 
number  of  marriages  double  as  many  in  the  latter,  as  in 
the  former,  and  longevity  less  and  mortality  greater  among 
the  Americans.  Mr.  Cliffe-Leslie  attributes  this  fact  to  a 
decline  in  fecundity  on  the  part  of  American  citizens.  The 
whole  question,  however,  is  veiled  in  great  obscurity,  and  is 
rather  for  physiologists  and  biologists  to  decide ;  but  there 
do  seem   to   be  causes  at  work  which  preclude  us  from 

*  Essay  on  Population,  491,  note. 

'  Doubleday 's  True  Law  of  Population  (1842),  p.  ft, 

*  Wealth  of  Nations,  bk.  i.  ch.  viii. 

*  Bagehot's  Economic  Studies,  141  et  ua. 


MALTHUS  AND  THE  LAW  OF  POPULATION      89 

assuming  with  Malthus  that  the  rate  of  increase  is  invari- 
able.i 

Another  American  writer,  Mr.  Henry  George,'  has  recently 
argued  that  Malthus  was  wrong  and  Godwin  right,  that 
poverty  is  due  to  human  injustice,  to  an  unequal  distribution 
of  wealth,  the  result  of  private  property  in  land,  and  not  to 
Malthus's  law  of  the  increase  of  population  or  to  the  law  of 
diminishing  returns,  both  of  which  he  altogether  rejects. 
With  regard  to  the  latter  he  urges  with  truth  that  in 
certain  communities,  for  instance  California,  where  the  law 
of  diminishing  returns  evidently  does  not  come  into  opera- 
tion, the  same  phenomenon  of  pauperism  appears.  Now 
against  Mr.  George  it  can  be  proved  by  facts  that  there  are 
cases  where  his  contention  is  not  true.  It  is  noticeable 
that  he  makes  no  reference  to  France,  Norway,  and  Switzer- 
land—  all  countries  of  peasant  proprietors,  and  where 
consequently  the  land  is  not  monopolised  by  a  few.  But 
it  is  certain  that  in  all  these  countries,  at  any  rate  in  the 
present  state  of  agricultural  knowledge  and  skill,  the  law 
of  diminishing  returns  does  obtain;  and  it  is  useless  to 
argue  that  in  these  cases  it  is  the  injustice  of  man,  and  not 
the  niggardliness  of  nature,  that  is  the  cause  of  poverty, 
and  necessitates  baneful  checks  on  population.  Still  I 
admit  that  Mr.  George's  argument  is  partially  true  —  a 
large  portion  of  pauperism  and  misery  is  really  attribut- 
able to  bad  government  and  injustice;  but  this  does  not 
touch  the  main  issue,  or  disprove  the  law  of  diminishiDg 
returns. 

To  return  to  Malthus's  first  proposition.  The  phrase  that 
*  population  tends  to  outstrip  the  means  of  subsistence '  is 
vague  and  ambiguous.  It  may  mean  that  population,  if 
unchecked,  would  outstrip  the  means  of  subsistence ;  or  it 
may  mean  that  population  does  increase  faster  than  the 
means  of  subsistence.  It  is  quite  clear  that,  in  its  second 
sense,  it  is  not  true  of  England  at  the  present  day.  The 
average  quantity  of  food  consumed  per  head  is  yearly 
greater;  and  capital  increases  more  than  twice  as  fast  as 

J'  Scienct  of  Wtcdih,  462-4. 

'  Progrets  and  Poverty,  book  vL  ch.  L  These  lectotes  were  given  before 
the  book  had  acquired  general  notoriety. — Ed. 


90  THE  INDUSTRIAL  REVOLUTION 

population.^  But  the  earlier  writers  on  population  invari- 
ably use  the  phrase  in  the  latter  sense,  and  apply  it  to  the 
England  of  their  time.  At  the  present  day  it  can  only  be 
true  in  this  latter  sense  of  a  very  few  countries.  It  has 
been  said  to  be  true  in  the  case  of  India,  but  even  there  the 
assertion  can  only  apply  to  certain  districts.  Mr.  George, 
however,  is  not  content  to  refute  Malthus's  proposition  in 
this  sense ;  he  denies  it  altogether,  denies  the  statement  in 
the  sense  that  population,  if  unchecked,  would  outstrip  the 
means  of  subsistence,  and  lays  down  as  a  general  law  that 
there  need  be  no  fear  of  over-population  if  wealth  were 
justly  distributed.  The  experience  of  countries  like  Norway 
and  Switzerland,  however,  where  over-population  does  exist, 
although  the  distribution  of  wealth  is  tolerably  even,  shows 
that  this  doctrine  is  not  universally  true.  Another  criticism 
of  Mr.  George's,  however,  is  certainly  good,  as  far  as  it  goes. 
Malthus's  proposition  was  supposed  to  be  strengthened  by 
Darwin's  theory,  and  Darwin  himself  says  that  it  was  the 
study  of  Malthus's  book  which  suggested  it  to  him ;  *  but 
Mr.  George  rightly  objects  to  the  analogy  between  man  and 
animals  and  plants.  It  is  true  that  animals,  in  their 
struggle  for  existence,  have  a  strictly  limited  amount  of 
subsistence,  but  man  can,  by  his  ingenuity  and  energy, 
enormously  increase  his  supply.'  The  objection  is  valid, 
though  it  can  hardly  be  said  to  touch  the  main  issue. 

I  have  spoken  of  the  rapid  growth  of  population  in  the 
period  we  are  studying.  We  have  to  consider  how  Malthus 
accounted  for  it,  and  how  far  his  explanation  is  satisfactory, 
as  well  as  what  practical  conclusions  he  came  to.  In  the 
rural  districts  he  thought  the  excessive  increase  was  the 

*  Since  1860  the  population  of  the  United  Kingdom  has  increased  from 
29,070,932  to  35,003,789,  or  20  per  cent.  ;  while  its  wealth  has  grown  iu 
the  same  time  from  £5,200,000,000  to  £8,420,000,000,  or  62  per  cent. 
See  Mulhall  in  Contemporary  Review,  Dec.  1881.  The  consumption  of  tea 
per  head  has  increased  from  2 "66  lbs.  to  4 "66  lbs.,  of  sugar  from  34-61  lbs. 
to  62*33,  of  rice  from  5*94  lbs.  to  14"31,  and  many  other  articles  in  like 
proportion.  '  Origin  of  Species  (Pop.  Ed.),  50. 

*  'While  all  through  the  vegetable  and  animal  kingdoms  the  limit  of 
subsistence  is  independent  of  the  thing  subsisted,  with  man  the  limit  of 
subsistence  is,  within  the  final  limits  of  earth,  air,  water,  and  sunshine, 
dependent  upon  man  himself.' — Progrcaa  and  Poverty,  book  ii.  o.  iii. 
p.  117.    Cf.  Unto  this  Last  (3rd  edition),  p.  157-8. 


MALTHUS  AND  THE  LAW  OF  POPULATION      91 

consequence  of  the  bad  administration  of  the  Poor  Laws, 
and  of  the  premium  which  they  put  on  early  marriages. 
This  was  true,  but  not  the  whole  truth;  there  are  other 
points  to  be  taken  into  account.  In  the  old  days  the 
younger  labourers  boarded  in  the  farm-houses,  and  were  of 
course  single  men ;  no  man  could  marry  till  there  was  a 
cottage  vacant,  and  it  was  the  policy  of  the  landlords  in 
the  'close  villages'  to  destroy  cottages,  in  order  to  lessen 
the  rates.^  But  now  the  farmers  had  risen  in  social  position 
and  refused  to  board  the  labourers  in  their  houses.  The 
ejected  labourers,  encouraged  by  the  allowance  system, 
married  recklessly,'  and  though  some  emigrated  into  the 
towns,  a  great  evil  arose.  The  rural  population  kept 
increasing  while  the  cottage  accommodation  as  steadily 
diminished,  and  terrible  overcrowding  was  the  result. 
Owing  to  the  recklessness  and  demoralisation  of  the 
labourer  the  lack  of  cottages  no  longer  operated  as  any 
check  on  population.'  The  change  in  the  social  habits  off 
the  farmers  had  thus  a  considerable  efifect  on  the  increase  f 
of  rural  population  and  tended  to  aggravate  the  effects  of) 
the  allowauce  system.  ^ 

In  the  towns  the  greatest  stimulus  came  from  the  exten- 
sion of  trade  due  to  the  introduction  of  machinery.  The 
artisan's  horizon  became  indistinct;  there  was  no  visible 
limit  to  subsistence.  In  a  country  like  Norway,  with  a 
stationary  society  built  up  of  small  local  units,  the  labourer 
knows  exactly  what  openings  for  employment  there  are  in 
his  community ;  and  it  is  well  known  that  the  Norwegian 
peasant  hesitates  about  marriage  till  he  is  sure  of  a  position 
which  will  enable  him  to  support  a  family.*  But  in  a  great 
town,  among  '  the  unavoidable  variations  of  manufacturing 
labour,'^  all  these  definite  limits  were  removed.   The  artisan 

*  Eden,  i.  361. — 'I  know  several  parishes,  in  which  the  greatest  difficulty 
the  poor  labour  under  is  the  impossibility  of  procuring  habitations.' 

*  Commistioii  on  Labourers'  Wagta  (1824),  p.  60.  The  number  of 
cottages  in  rural  districts  went  on  decreasing  as  late  as  1860,  but  the 
Union  Chargeability  Act  is  now  said  to  have  '  completely  cured  the 
practice  of  clearing  away  cottages.' — Evidence  of  Right  Hon.  Sclater- 
Booth  before  AgriculturaJ  Commission  of  1881.     Qu.  9090 

*  Its  action  has  not  ceased,  however,  altogether.  See  Heath,  English 
Ptcuantry,  p.  36,  for  an  instance  as  late  as  1872. 

*  Essay  on  Population,  p.  129,  7th  ed.  »  Ibid.,  p.  315. 


92  THE  INDUSTRIAL  REVOLUTION 

could  always  hope  that  the  growth  of  industry  would  afford 
employment  for  any  number  of  children — an  expectation 
which  the  enormously  rapid  growth  of  the  woollen  and 
cotton  manufactures  justified  to  a  large  extent.    And  the 
t'great  demand  for  children's  labour  in  towns  increased  a 
(man's  income  in  proportion  to  the  number  of  his  family, 
[just  as  the  allowance  system  did  in  the  country.^ 
)      What  remedies  did  Malthus  propose  ?    The  first  was  the 
•^abolition  of  the  Poor  Law ;  and  he  was  not  singular  in  this 
opinion.     Many  eminent  writers  of  the  time  believed  it  to 
be  intrinsically  bad.     He  suggested  that  at  a  given  date  it 
should  be  announced  that  no  child  born  after  the  lapse  of  a 
year  should  be  entitled  to  relief ;  the  improvident  were  to 
be  left  to  'the  punishment  of  nature'  and  'the  uncertain 
support  of  private  charity.'  *     Others  saw  that  such  treat- 
ment would  be  too  hard ;  that  a  Poor  Law  of  some  sort  was 
necessary,  and  that  the  problem  was  how  to  secure  to  the 
respectable  poor  the  means  of  support  without  demoralising 
them.     His  second  remedy  was  moral  restraint — abstention 
'from  marriage  till  a  man  had  means  to  support  a  family, 
accompanied  by  perfectly  moral  conduct  during  the  period 
of  celibacy.^ 

Let  us  now  see  what  have  been  the  actual  remedies.  The 
■  chief  is  the  reform  of  the  Poor  Laws  in  1834,  perhaps  the 
most  beneficent  Act  of  Parliament  which  has  been  passed 
since  the  Reform  Bill.  Its  principles  were  (a)  the  applica- 
tion of  the  workhouse  test  and  the  gradual  abolition  of 
outdoor  relief  to  able-bodied  labourers;  (h)  the  formation 
of  unions  of  parishes  to  promote  economy  and  efiBciency, 
these  unions  to  be  governed  by  Boards  of  Guardians  elected 
by  the  ratepayers,  thus  putting  an  end  to  the  mischievous 
reign  of  the  Justices  of  the  Peace ;  (c)  a  central  Board  of 
Poor  Law  Commissioners,  with  very  large  powers  to  deal 
with  the  Boards  of  Guardians  and  control  their  action; 
(d)  a  new  bastardy  law;  («)  a  mitigation  of  the  laws  of 

*  Children  were  migrated  wholesale  into  the  towns  from  the  country 
districts.  So  in  Switzerland  the  introduction  of  manufactures  into  some 
of  the  smaller  cantons,  at  the  end  of  the  last  century,  gave  a  great 
stimulus  to  early  marriages. — Ettay  on  Population,  p.  174. 

•  Ibid.,  p.  430.  »  Ibid.,  p.  403. 


MALTHUS  AND  THE  LAW  OF  POPULATION      93 

settlement.  The  effect  of  the  new  law  was  very  remarkable. 
As  an  example,  take  the  case  of  Sussex.  Before  1834  there 
were  in  that  county  over  6000  able-bodied  paupers;  two 
years  later  there  were  124.^  A  similar  change  took  place 
in  almost  all  the  rural  districts,  and  the  riots  and  rick- 
burning  which  had  been  so  rife  began  to  grow  less  frequent. 
Equally  remarkable  was  the  effect  upon  the  rates.  In  1818 
they  were  nearly  ^£8,000,000  in  England  and  Wales ;  in 
1837  they  had  sunk  to  a  little  over  £4,000,000,  and  are  now 
only  £7,500,000  in  spite  of  the  enormous  growth  of  popula- 
tion. The  number  of  paupers,  which  in  1849  was  930,000, 
has  dwindled  in  1881  to  800,000,  though  the  population 
has  meanwhile  increased  by  more  than  8,000,000.  Notwith- 
standing this  improvement  the  Poor  Laws  are  by  no  means 
perfect,  and  great  reforms  are  still  needed. 

Next  in  importance  as  an  actual  remedy  we  must  place 
emigration.  Malthus  despised  it.  He  thought  that '  from 
the  natural  unwillingness  of  people  to  desert  their  native 
country,  and  the  difficulty  of  clearing  and  cultivating  fresh 
soil,  it  never  is  or  can  be  adequately  adopted ' ;  that,  even  if 
effectual  for  the  time,  the  relief  it  afforded  would  only  be 
temporary, '  and  the  disorders  would  return  with  increased 
virulence.'  ^  He  could  not  of  course  foresee  the  enormous 
development  which  would  be  given  to  it  by  steam  navigation, 
and  the  close  connection  established  thereby  between 
England  and  America.  Since  1815  eight  and  a  quarter 
millions  of  people  have  emigrated  from  the  United  Kingdom ; 
since  1847  three  and  a  half  millions  have  gone  from  England 
and  Wales  alone ;  and  this  large  emigration  has  of  course 
materially  lightened  the  labour  market.  Nor  could  Malthus 
any  more  foresee  the  great  importation  of  food  which  would 
take  place  in  later  times.  In  his  day  England  was  insulated 
by  war  and  the  corn  laws ;  now,  we  import  one-half  of  our 
food,  and  pay  for  it  with  our  manufactures. 

As  to  moral  restraint,  it  is  very  doubtful,  whether  it  has 
been  largely  operative.  According  to  Professor  Jevons, 
writing  fifteen  years  ago,  it  has  been  so  only  to  a  very  small 
extent.'    Up  to  1860  the  number  of  marriages  was  rather 

^  Molesworth,  History  of  England,  vol.  i.  p.  319. 

"  Essay  on  Population,  p.  292.  »  The  Goal  Question,  p.  170. 


94  THE  INDUSTRIAL  REVOLUTION 

on  the  increase ;  but  if  among  the  masses,  owing  to  cheap 
food,  marriages  have  become  more  frequent,  restraint  has  on 
the  other  hand  certainly  grown  among  the  middle  classes 
and  the  best  of  the  artisan  class. 

I  wish  to  speak  of  one  more  remedy,  which  Malthus  him- 
self repudiated,^  namely,  that  of  artificial  checks  on  the 
number  of  children.  It  has  been  said  that  such  questions 
should  only  be  discussed  '  under  the  decent  veil  of  a  dead 
language.'  Reticence  on  them  is  necessary  to  wholesome- 
ness  of  mind ;  but  we  ought  nevertheless  to  face  the  problem, 
for  it  is  a  vital  one.  These  preventive  checks  on  births 
excite  our  strong  moral  repugnance.  Men  may  call  such 
repugnance  prejudice,  but  it  is  perfectly  logical,  because  it  is 
a  protest  against  the  gratification  of  a  strong  instinct  while 
the  duties  attaching  to  it  are  avoided.  Still  our  moral  repug- 
nance should  not  prevent  our  considering  the  question. 
Let  us  examine  results.  What  evidence  is  there  as  to  the 
effects  of  a  system  of  artificial  checks  ?  We  know  that  at 
least  one  European  nation,  the  French,  has  to  some  extent 
adopted  them.  Now  we  find  that  in  the  purely  rural 
Department  of  the  Eure,  where  the  population,  owing 
presumably  to  the  widespread  adoption  of  artificial  checks, 
is  on  the  decline,  although  the  district  is  the  best  cultivated 
in  France  and  enjoys  considerable  material  prosperity,  the 
general  happiness  promised  is  not  found.  This  Department 
comes  first  in  statistics  of  crime ;  one-third  of  these  crimes 
are  indecent  outrages ;  another  third  are  paltry  thefts ;  and 
infanticide  also  is  rife.^  Though  this  is  very  incomplete 
evidence,  it  shows  at  least  that  you  may  adopt  these 
measures  without  obtaining  the  promised  results.  The  idea 
that  a  stationary  and  materially  prosperous  population  will 
necessarily  be  free  from  vice  is  unreasonable  enough  in 
itself,  and  there  is  the  evidence  of  experience  against  it. 
Indeed,  one  strong  objection  to  any  such  system  is  to  be 
found  in  the'  fact  that  a  stationary  population  is  not  a 
healthy  condition  of  things  in  regard  to  national  life;  it 
means  the  removal  of  a  great  stimulus  to  progress.     One 

^  Essay  on  Population,  pp.  266,  286, 512. 

*  See  M.  Baudrillart's  book  on  Normandy,  where  not  only  moral  con- 
siderations bat  enlightened  self-interest  is  invoiced  against  the  system. 


MALTHUS  AND  THE  LAW  OF  POPULATION    95 

incentive  to  invention,  in  particular,  is  removed  in  France 
by  attempts  to  adapt  population  to  the  existing  means  of 
subsistence ;  for  in  this  respect  it  is  certainly  true  that  the 
struggle  for  existence  is  essential  to  progress.  Such  prac- 
tices, moreover,  prove  injurious  to  the  children  themselves. 
The  French  peasant  toils  ceaselessly  to  leave  each  of  his 
children  a  comfortable  maintenance.  It  would  be  better  for 
them  to  be  brought  up  decently,  and  then  left  to  struggle 
for  their  own  maintenance.  Aluch  of  the  genius  and  in- 
ventive power  in  English  towns  has  come  from  the  rural 
districts  with  men  belonging  to  large  families,  who  started 
in  life  impressed  with  the  idea  that  they  must  win  their 
own  way.  It  is  wrong  to  consider  this  question  from  the 
point  of  view  of  wealth  alone;  we  cannot  overrate  the 
importance  of  family  life  as  the  source  of  all  that  is  best  in 
national  life.  Often  the  necessity  of  supporting  and 
educating  a  large  family  is  a  training  and  refining  influence 
in  the  lives  of  the  parents,  and  the  one  thing  that  makes 
the  ordinary  man  conscious  of  his  duties,  and  turns  him 
into  a  good  citizen.  In  the  last  resort  we  may  say  that 
such  practices  are  unnecessary  in  England  at  the  present 
day.  A  man  in  the  superior  artisan  or  middle  classes  has 
only  to  consider  when  he  will  have  sufficient  means  to  rear 
an  average  number  of  children ;  that  is,  he  need  only  regu- 
late the  time  of  his  marriage.  Postponement  of  marriage, 
and  the  willing  emigration  of  some  of  his  children  when 
grown  up,  does,  in  his  case,  meet  the  difficulty.  He  need 
not  consider  whether  there  is  room  in  the  world  for  more, 
for  there  is  room ;  and,  in  the  interests  of  civilisation,  it  is 
not  desirable  that  a  nation  with  a  great  history  and  great 
qualities  should  not  advance  in  numbers.  For  the  labouring 
masses,  on  the  other  hand,  with  whom  prudential  motives 
have  no  weight,  the  only  true  remedy  is  to  carry  out  such 
great  measures  of  social  reform  as  the  improvement  of  their 
dwellings,  better  education  and  better  amusements,  and  thus 
lift  them  into  the  position  now  held  by  the  artisan,  where 
moral  restraints  are  operative.  Above  all,  it  must  be 
remembered  that  this  is  not  a  purely  economic  problem,  nor 
is  it  to  be  solved  by  mechanical  contrivances.  To  reach  the 
true  solution  we  must  tenaciously  hold  to  a  high  ideal  of 


96  THE  INDUSTRIAL  REVOLUTION 

spiritual  life.  What  the  mechanical  contrivances  might 
perchance  give  us  is  not  what  we  desire  for  our  country. 
The  true  remedies,  on  the  other  hand,  imply  a  growth  to- 
wards that  purer  and  higher  condition  of  society  for  which 
alone  we  care  to  strive. 


XI 

THE  WAGE-FUND  THEORY 

Malthus  originated  the  Wage-fund  Theory — Mill's  statement  of  it — Its 
bearing  on  Trades-Unions — Its  application  to  wages  at  a  given  time 
— Its  fallacies — Origin  of  the  theory — Difficulty  of  forming  a  com- 
plete theory  of  wages — Wages  in  a  given  country  depend  upon  the 
total  amount  of  produce,  and  the  division  of  that  produce — Why 
wages  are  higher  in  America  than  in  England — Influence  of  Protec- 
tion and  of  commercial  '  rings '  on  wages — Comparison  of  wages  in 
England  and  on  the  Continent — High  wages  in  England  mainly  due 
to  efficiency  of  labour — Limits  to  a  rise  in  wages  in  any  particular 
trade — Possible  effects  of  a  general  rise  in  wages — Explanation  of  the 
fall  in  wages  between  1790  and  1820. 

Besides  originating  the  theory  of  population  which  bears 
his  name,  Malthus  was  the  founder  of  that  doctrine  of  wages 
which,  under  the  name  of  the  wage-fund  theory,  was 
accepted  for  fifty  years  in  England.  To  ascertain  what  the 
theory  is  we  may  take  Mill's  statement  of  it,  as  given  in 
his  review  of  Thornton  On  Labour  in  1869.  'There  is 
supposed  to  be,'  he  says,  '  at  any  given  instant,  a  sum  of 
wealth  which  is  unconditionally  devoted  to  the  payment  of 
wages  of  labour.  This  sum  is  not  regarded  as  unalterable, 
for  it  is  augmented  by  saving,  and  increases  with  the 
progress  of  wealth ;  but  it  is  reasoned  upon  as  at  any  given 
moment  a  predetermined  amount.  More  than  that  amount 
it  is  assumed  that  the  wages-receiving  class  cannot  possibly 
divide  among  them ;  that  amount,  and  no  less,  they  can- 
not possibly  fail  to  obtain.  So  that  the  sum  to  be  divided 
being  fixed,  the  wages  of  each  depend  solely  on  the  divisor, 
the  number  of  participants.'^  This  theory  was  implicitly 
believed  from  Malthus's  time  to  about   1870;  we  see  it 

1  Fortnightly  Review,  May  1869  :  reprinted  in  Dmertations  and  Discus- 
Bions,  vol.  iv.  p.  4.3, 


THE  WAGE-FUND  THEORY  97 

accepted,  for  instance,  in  Miss  Martineau's  Tales.  And 
from  the  theory  several  conclusions  were  deduced  which, 
owing  to  their  practical  importance,  it  is  well  to  put  in  the 
forefront  of  our  inquiry  as  to  its  truth.  It  is  these  conclu- 
sions which  have  made  the  theory  itself  and  the  science  to 
which  it  belongs  an  offence  to  the  whole  working  class.  It 
was  said  in  the  first  place  that  according  to  the  wage-fund 
theoiy,  Trades-Unions  could  not  at  any  given  time  effect  a 
general  rise  in  wages.  It  was,  indeed,  sometimes  admitted 
that  in  a  particular  trade  the  workmen  could  obtain  a  rise 
by  combination,  but  this  could  only  be,  it  was  alleged,  at  the 
expense  of  workmen  in  other  trades.  If,  for  instance,  the 
men  in  the  building  trade  got  higher  wages  through  their 
Union,  those  in  the  iron  foundries  or  in  some  other  industry 
must  suffer  to  an  equivalent  extent  In  the  next  place  it 
was  argued  that  combinations  of  workmen  could  not  in  the 
long-run  increase  the  fund  out  of  which  wages  were  paid. 
Capital  might  be  increased  by  saving,  and,  if  this  saving 
was  more  rapid  than  the  increase  in  the  number  of  labourers, 
wages  would  rise,  but  it  was  denied  that  Unions  could  have 
any  effect  in  forcing  such  an  increase  of  saving.  And  hence 
it  followed  that  the  only  real  remedy  for  low  wages  was  a 
limitation  of  the  number  of  the  labourers.  The  rate  of  wages, 
it  was  said,  depended  entirely  on  the  efficacy  of  checks  to 
population. 

The  error  lay  in  the  premisses.  The  old  economists,  it 
may  be  observed,  very  seldom  examined  their  premisses. 
For  this  theory  assumes — (1.)  That  either  the  capital  of  a 
particular  individual  available  for  the  payment  of  wages  is 
fixed,  or,  at  any  rate,  the  total  capital  of  the  community  so 
available  is  fixed;  and  (2.)  That  wages  are  always  paid  out 
of  capital.  Now  it  is  plainly  not  true  that  a  particular 
employer  makes  up  his  mind  to  spend  a  fixed  quantity  of 
money  on  labour;^  the  amount  spent  varies  with  a  number 

^  The  employer  doe*  not  say,  'I  will  spend  so  mnch  in  wages.'  or  'I 
will  employ  so  many  labourers,''  but  '  I  will  spend  so  ranch  if  labour  is  at, 
say  30s.,  and  ao  much  if  it  is  at  '20a.'  On  the  other  hand,  Mr.  Heath's 
statement  as  to  the  farmers  in  1872  shows  that  men  may  determine  to 
spend  a  fixed  sum  ;  that  they  would  not  vary  it,  however,  he  attributes 
to  the  accidental  cause  of  'characteristic  obstinacy.'— Se«  Heath's 
English  Peatantry,  p.  121 ;  Peasant  Lije,  p.  348. 

Q 


98  THE  INDUSTRIAL  REVOLUTION 

of  circumstances  affecting  the  prospect  of  profit  on  the  part 
of  the  capitalist,  such,  for  instance,  as  the  price  of  labour. 
Take  the  instance  of  a  strike  of  agricultural  labourers  in 
Ireland,  given  by  Mr.  Trench  to  Nassau  Senior.  He  was 
employing  one  hundred  men  at  lOd.  a  day,  thus  spending  on 
wages  £25  a  week.  The  men  struck  for  higher  pay — a 
minimum  of  Is.  2d.,  and  the  more  capable  men  to  have 
more.  Trench  offered  to  give  the  wages  asked  for,  but 
greatly  reduced  his  total  expenditure,  as  it  would  not  pay 
to  employ  so  many  men  at  the  higher  rate.  Thus  only 
seventeen  were  employed ;  the  other  eighty-three  objected, 
and  it  ended  in  all  going  back  to  work  at  the  old  rate.^  The 
fact  is,  that  no  individual  has  a  fixed  wage-fund,  which  it  is 
not  in  his  povver  either  to  diminish  or  increase.  Just  as  he 
may  reduce  the  total  amount  which  he  spends  on  labour, 
rather  than  pay  a  rate  of  wages  which  seems  incompatible 
with  an  adequate  profit,  so  he  may  increase  that  total 
amount,  in  order  to  augment  the  wages  of  his  labourers,  by 
diminishing  the  sum  he  spends  upon  himself  or  by  employ- 
ing capital  which  is  lying  idle,  if  he  thinks  that  even  with 
the  higher  rate  of  wages  he  can  secure  a  sufficiently  remun- 
erative return  upon  his  investment.  Thus  the  workman 
may,  according  to  circumstances,  get  higher  or  lower  wages 
than  the  current  rate,  without  any  alteration  in  the  quantity 
of  employment  given.  When  wages  in  Dorset  and  Wilts 
were  7s.,^  the  labourers,  if  they  had  had  sufficient  intelligence 
and  power  of  combination,  might  have  forced  the  farmers 
to  pay  them  8s.  or  9s.,  for  the  latter  were  making  very  high 
profits.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  where  the  workmen  have  been 
strong,  and  the  profits  made  by  the  employers  large,  the 
former  have  often  forced  the  employers  to  give  higher 
wages. 

Neither  is  it  true  that  there  is  in  the  hands  of  the  com- 
munity as  a  whole,  at  any  given  time,  a  fixed  quantity  of 
capital  for  supplying  the  wants  of  the  labourers,  so  much 
food,  boots,  hats,  clothes,  etc.,  which  neither  employers  nor 
workmen  can  increase.     It  used  to  be  said  that  a  rise  in 


^  Senior's  Jow'nah,  etc.,  relating  to  Ireland,  vol.  ii.  p.  15. 
•  Caird,  English  Agriculture  in  1850,  p.  519. 


THE  WAGE-FUND  THEORY  99 

money  wages  would  simply  mean  that  the  price  of  all  the 
commodities  purchased  by  the  labourers  would  rise  pro- 
portionately, owing  to  the  increase  of  demand,  and  that 
their  real  wages,  i.e.  the  number  of  things  they  could  pur- 
chase with  their  money,  would  be  no  greater  than  before. 
But,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  the  supply  can  be  increased  as  fast 
as  the  demand.  It  is  true  that  between  two  harvests  the 
available  quantity  of  corn  is  fixed,  but  that  of  most  other 
commodities  can  be  increased  at  a  short  notice.  For  com- 
modities are  not  stored  up  for  consumption  in  great  masses, 
but  are  being  continually  produced  as  the  demand  for  them 
arises. 

So  far  I  have  been  speaking  of  the  theory  as  applied  to 
wages  at  a  particular  time.  Now,  what  did  it  further  imply 
of  wages  in  the  long-run  ?  According  to  Ricardo's  law, 
which  has  been  adopted  by  Lassalle  and  the  Socialists,' 
wages  depend  on  the  ratio  between  population  and  capital. 
Capital  may  be  gradiMlly  increased  by  saving,  and  popula- 
tion may  be  gradually  diminished;  but  Ricardo  thought 
that  the  condition  of  the  labourer  was  surely  on  the  decline, 
because  population  was  advancing  faster  than  capital. 
While  admitting  occasionally  that  there  had  been  changes 
in  the  standard  of  comfort,  he  yet  disregarded  these  in  his 
general  theory,  and  assumed  that  the  standard  was  fixed; 
that  an  increase  of  wages  would  lead  to  an  increase  of 
population,  and  that  wages  would  thus  fall  again  to  their 
old  rate,  or  even  lower.  The  amount  of  corn  consumed  by 
the  labourer  would  not  diminish,  but  that  of  all  other  com- 
modities would  decline.^  Later  economists  have  qualified 
this  statement  of  the  supposed  law.  Mill  showed  that  the 
standard  of  comfort  was  not  fixed,  but  might  vary  in- 
definitely. This  being  the  case,  the  labourer  might  sink 
even  lower  than  Ricardo  supposed  possible,  for  population 
might  increase  till  the  labourer  had  not  only  less  of  every- 
thing else,  but  was  forced  down  to  a  lower  staple  of  life 
than  com,  for  instance,  potatoes.  And  this  has,  as  a  matter' 
of  fact,  taken  place  in  some  countries.  But,  on  the  other 
hand,  the  standard  might  rise,  as  it  has  risen  in  England ;  j 
and  Mill  thought  that  it  would  rise  yet  more.  At  first  this 
^  Ricardo  (M'Cnlloch'a  edition,  1881),  pp.  54-5. 


100  THE  INDUSTRIAL  REVOLUTION 

was  his  only  hope  for  the  working  classes.^  At  a  later 
period  he  trusted  that  the  labourer,  by  means  of  co-opera- 
tion, might  become  more  and  more  self-employing,  and  so 
obtain  both  profits  and  wages. 

It  is  interesting  to  inquire  how  this  wage-fund  theory 
grew  up.  Why  was  it  held  that  employers  could  not  give 
higher  real  wages  ?  Its  origin  is  easy  to  understand.  When 
Malthus  wrote  his  essay  on  population,  there  had  been  a 
series  of  bad  harvests,  and  in  those  days  but  small  supplies 
of  corn  could  be  obtained  from  abroad.  Thus  year  after 
year  there  seemed  to  be  a  fixed  quantity  of  food  in  the 
country  and  increasing  numbers  requiring  food.  Popula- 
tion was  growing  faster  than  subsistence,  and  increased 
money  wages  could  not  increase  the  quantity  of  food  that 
was  to  be  had.  Thus  in  1800,  when  corn  was  127s.  the 
quarter,  it  was  clear  that  the  rich  could  not  help  the  poor 
by  giving  them  higher  wages,  for  this  would  simply  have 
raised  the  price  of  the  fixed  quantity  of  corn.  Malthus 
assumed  that  the  amount  of  food  was  practically  fixed; 
therefore,  unless  population  diminished,  as  years  went  on, 
wages  would  fall,  because  worse  soils  would  be  cultivated 
and  there  would  be  increased  difficulty  in  obtaining  food.' 
But  the  period  he  had  before  his  eyes  was  quite  exceptional; 
after  the  peace,  good  harvests  came  and  plenty  of  corn; 
food  grew  cheaper,  though  population  advanced  at  the  same 
rate.  So  that  the  theory  in  this  shape  was  true  only  of  the 
twenty  years  from  1795  to  1815.  But,  when  it  had  once 
been  said  that  wages  depended  on  the  proportion  between 
population  and  food,  it  was  easy  to  substitute  capital  for 
food  and  say  that  they  depended  on  the  proportion  between 
population  and  capital,  food  and  capital  being  wrongly 
identified.^  Then  when  the  identification  was  forgotten,  it 
was  supposed  that  there  is  at  any  given  moment  a  fixed 

^  See  in  the  earlier  editions  the  chapter  on  the  Probable  Future  of  the 
Labouring  Classes  in  his  Political  Economy,  bk.  iv.  c.  \'iu 

*  Estay  on  Population,  vol.  ii.  pp.  64,  71,  76  (6th  ed.).  In  reality  the 
agricultural  produce  of  the  country  was  increased  by  one-fouith  between 
180.3  and  181.3.     See  Porter,  p.  149. 

*  See  Malthus's  letter  to  Godwin  in  Kegan  Paul's  Life  of  Oodwin,  vol.  i. 
p.  322 :  Essay  on  Population,  vol.  ii.  pp.  93,  94 ;  James  Mill's  Elements  of 
Political  Economy,  oh.  ii.  p.  29  (1821). 


THE  WAGE-FUND  THEORY  101 

quantity  of  wage-capital — food,  boots,  hats,  furniture, 
clothes,  etc. — destined  for  the  payment  of  wages,  which 
neither  employers  nor  workmen  can  diminish  or  increeise, 
and  thus  the  rate  of  wages  came  to  be  regarded  as  regulated 
by  a  natural  law,  independent  of  the  will  of  either  party.* 

We  have  already  seen  that  this  theory  is  false ;  we  have 
now  to  substitute  for  it  some  truer  theory,  and  explain 
thereby  the  actual  phenomena  of  the  labour  market,  such, 
for  instance,  as  the  fact  that  wages  at  Chicago  or  New  York 
are  twice  as  high  as  they  are  in  England,  while  the  prices  of 
the  necessaries  of  life  are  lower.  Though  modern  econo- 
mists have  pointed  out  the  fallacies  of  the  old  wage-fund 
theory,  no  economist  has  yet  succeeded  in  giving  us  a  com- 
plete theory  of  wages  in  its  place.  I  believe  indeed  that  so 
complicated  a  set  of  conditions  as  are  involved  cannot  be 
explained  by  any  one  formula,  and  that  the  attempt  to  do 
so  leads  to  fallacies.  Yet  I  am  also  aware  that  the  public 
geem  to  feel  themselves  aggrieved  that  economists  will  not 
now  provide  them  with  another  convenient  set  phrase  in 
place  of  the  wage-fund  theory,  and  are  inclined  to  doubt  the 
validity  of  their  explanations  in  consequence.^  Now,  wages 
in  a  given  country  depend  on  two  things :  tb6  total  amount 
of  produce  in  the  country ^nd  the  manner  in  which  that 
produce  is  divided.  To  work  out  the  former  problem  we 
must  investigate  all  the  causes  which  affect  the  whole 
amount  of  wealth  produced,  the  natural  resources  of  the 
country,  its  political  institutions,  the  skill,  intelligence,  and 
inventive  genius  of  its  inhabitants.  The  di^ion  of  the 
produce,  on  the  other  hand,  is  determined  mainly  by  the 
proportion  between  the  number  of  labourers  seeking  em- 
ployment and  the  quantity  of  capital  seeking  investment; 
or,  to  put  the  case  in  a  somewhat  different  way,  instead  of 
saying  that  wages  are  paid  out  of  stored-up  capital,  we  now 
say  that  they  are  the  labourer's  share  of  the  produce.' 
What  the  labourer's  share  will  be  depends  first  on  the 
quantity  of  produce  he  can  turn  out,  and  secondly,  on  the 

^  Mill's  Political  Economy  (lat  edition),  vol.  i.  p.  475. 

'  This  solution  was  first  given  by  Mr.  Cliffe-Leslie  in  an  Article  on 
'Political  Economy  and  Emigration'  ia  Fraaer'a  Alagazine,  May  1868; 
but  its  full  bearing  was  first  shown  by  Mr.  Walker  in  his  books  on  the 
Wagt  Qutstion. 


102  THE  INDUSTRIAL  REVOLUTION 

nature  of  the  bargain  which,  he  is  able  to  make  with  his 
employer.  We  are  now  in  a  position  to  explain  the  question 
put  above,  why  wages  in  America  are  double  what  they  are 
in  England.  An  American  ironmaster,  if  asked  to  give  a 
reason  for  the  high  wages  he  pays,  would  say,  that  the  land 
determines  the  rate  of  wages  in  America,  because  under  the 
Free  Homestead  Law,  any  man  can  get  a  piece  of  land  for  a 
nominal  sum,  and  no  puddler  will  work  for  less  than  he  can 
get  by  working  on  this  land.^  Now,  in  the  Western  States 
the  soil  is  very  fertile,  and  though  the  average  yield  is  lower 
than  in  Wiltshire,  the  return  in  proportion  to  the  labour 
expended  is  greater.  Moreover,  labour  being  scarce,  the 
workman  has  to  be  humoured ;  he  is  in  a  favourable  position 
in  making  his  bargain  with  the  employer,  and  obtains  a 
large  share  of  the  produce.  Thus  agricultural  wages  are 
very  high,  and  this  explains  also  the  cause  of  high  wages  in 
the  American  iron-trade  and  other  American  industries.  In 
consequence  of  these  high  wages  the  manufacturer  is  obliged 
to  make  large  use  of  machinery,  and  much  of  our  English 
machinery,  e.g.  that  of  the  Leicester  boot  and  shoe  trade,  has 
been  invented  in  America.  Now,  better  machinery  makes 
labour  more  efficient  and  the  produce  per  head  of  the 
labourers  greater.  Further,  according  to  the  testimony  of 
capitalists,  the  workmen  work  harder  in  America  than  in 
England,  because  they  work  with  hope;  they  have  before 
them  the  prospect  of  rising  in  the  world  by  their  accumula- 
tions. Thus  it  is  that  the  produce  of  American  manufac- 
tures is  great,  and  allows  of  the  labourer  obtaining  a  large 
share.  High  wages  in  America  are  therefore  explained  by 
the  quantity  of  produce  the  labourer  turns  out  being  great 
and  by  the  action  of  competition  being  in  his  favour. 

There  are,  however,  other  causes  influencing  the  rate  of 
wages  in  America  which  are  less  favourable  to  the  workmen. 
Protection,  for  instance,  diminishes  real  wages  by  enhancing 
the  cost  of  many  articles  in  common  use,  such  as  cutlery. 
It  is  owing  to  Protection  also  that  capitalists  are  able  to 

^  Trades- Union  Commimon  (1867),  Qu.  3770  (Report  II.  p.  3).  A.  S. 
Hewitt,  ironmaater,  said,  '  the  rate  of  wages  is  regulated  substantially  in 
our  country  (U.S.)  by  the  profits  vhich  a  man  can  get  out  of  the  soil 
which  haa  coat  him  little  or  nothing  except  the  labour  which  he  himself 
and  his  family  have  put  upon  it.' 


THE  WAGE-FUND  THEORY  103 

obtain  exceptionally  higli  profits  at  the  expense  of  the  work- 
men. By  comhining  and  forming  rings  they  can  govern  the 
market,  and  not  only  control  prices  but  dictate  the  rate  of 
wages.  Six  or  seven  years  ago,  the  whole  output  of  Penn- 
sylvaniau  anthracite  was  in  the  hands  of  a  few  companies. 
Hence  it  was  that,  in  the  Labour  War  of  1877,  the  workmen 
declared  that,  while  they  did  not  mind  wages  loeing  fixed  by 
competition,  tbey  would  not  endure  their  being  fixed  by 
rings,  and  that  such  rings  would  produce  a  revolution.  And 
the  monopoly  of  these  companies  was  only  broken  through  by 
a  great  migration  of  workmen  to  the  West.  The  experience 
of  America  in  this  instance  is  of  interest  in  showing  how, 
as  industry  advances,  trade  tends  to  get  concentrated  into 
fewer  hands  ;  hence  the  danger  of  monopolies.  It  has  even 
been  asserted  that  Free  Trade  must  lead  to  great  natural 
monopolies.  This  may  be  true  of  a  country  like  America 
which  has  internal  but  not  external  free  trade,  but  only  of 
such  a  country ;  for  foreign  competition  would  prevent  a 
knot  of  capitalists  from  ever  obtaining  full  control  of  the 
market 

I  have  shown  why  wages  are  higher  in  America  than  in 
England.  We  may  go  on  to  inquire  why  they  are  higher  in 
England  than  in  any  other  part  of  Europe.  The  great 
reason  is  that  the  total  amount  of  wealth  produced  in  this 
country  is  larger,  and  that  from  a  variety  of  causes,  material 
and  moral.  The  chief  material  causes  are  our  unrivalled 
stores  of  coal  and  iron,  and  perhaps,  above  all,  our  geo- 
graphical position.  On  the  moral  side,  our  political  institu- 
tions, being  favourable  to  liberty,  have  developed  individual 
energy  and  industry  in  a  degree  unknown  in  any  other 
country.  On  the  other  hand,  it  has  been  said  that  the 
exclusion  of  the  labourer  from  the  land  in  England  must 
have  tended  to  lower  vrages.  And  no  doubt  the  adoption  of 
a  system  of  large  farms  has  driven  the  labourers  into  the 
towns,  and  made  the  competition  for  employment  there  very 
keen.  But,  to  set  against  this,  the  efficiency  of  English 
manufacturing  labour  is  largely  due  to  this  very  fact,  that 
it  is  not  able  to  shift  on  to  the  land.  While  in  America 
the  whole  staff  of  a  cotton  factor}'  may  be  changed  in  three 
years,  in  England  the  artisan  '  sticks  to  his  trade,'  and  brings 


104  THE  INDUSTRIAL  REVOLUTION 

up  his  children  to  it ;  and  thus  castes  are  formed  with 
inherited  aptitudes,  which  render  labour  more  efl&cient,  and 
its  produce  greater.  I  believe  the  higher  wages  obtained  in 
England,  in  comparison  with  the  Continent,  are  mainly  due 
to  greater  efficiency  of  labour, — that  this  is  the  chief  cause 
why  the  total  produce  is  greater.  But  if  we  go  further,  and 
ask  what  determines  the  division  of  the  produce,  the  answer 
must  be  :  mainly  competition.  To  return  to  the  comparison 
with  America,  the  reason  why  the  English  labourer  gets 
lower  wages  than  the  American  is  the  great  competition 
for  employment  in  the  over-stocked  labour-market  of  this 
country. 

I  must  notice  an  objection  to  the  theory  of  wages  as 
stated  above.  Wages,  I  have  explained,  are  the  labourers' 
share  of  the  produce,  and  are  paid  out  of  it.  But,  it  may 
be  said,  while  our  new  Law  Courts,  or  an  ironclad,  are  being 
built — operations  which  take  a  long  time  before  there  is  any 
completed  result — how  can  it  be  correctly  held  that  the 
labourer  is  paid  out  of  the  produce  ?  It  is  of  course  per- 
fectly true  that  he  is  maintained  during  such  labours  only 
by  the  produce  of  others;  and  that  unless  some  great 
capitalist  had  either  accumulated  capital,  or  borrowed  it, 
the  labourer  could  not  be  paid.  But  this  has  nothing  to  do 
with  the  rate  of  wages.  That  is  determined  by  the  amount 
of  the  produce  and  is  independent  of  the  method  of  pay- 
ment. What  the  capitalist  does  is  merely  to  pay  in  advance 
the  labourer's  share,  as  a  matter  of  convenience. 

We  will  next  inquire  what  are  the  limits  to  a  rise  of 
wages  in  any  particular  trade?  The  answer  depends  on 
two  things.  First,  Is  the  capitalist  getting  more  than  the 
ordinary  rate  of  profits  ?  If  he  is  not,  he  will  resist  a  rise 
on  the  ground  that  he  *  cannot  afford '  to  pay  more  wages. 
This  is  what  an  arbitrator,  for  instance,  might  say  if  he 
examined  the  books,  and  he  would  mean  by  it  that,  if  the 
employer  had  to  raise  his  wages,  he  would  have  to  be 
content  with  lower  profits  than  he  could  make  in  other 
trades.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  however,  capitalists  often  do 
make  exceptionally  high  profits,  and  it  is  in  such  cases  that 
Trades-Unions  have  been  very  successful  in  forcing  them  to 
share  these  exceptional  profits  with  their  men.     Secondly, 


THE  WAGE-FUND  THEORY  105 

though  the  employer  be  getting  only  ordinary  profits,  his 
workmen  may  still  be  strong  enough  to  force  him  to  give 
higher  wages,  but  he  will  only  do  so  permanently  if  he  can 
compensate  himself  by  raising  the  price  of  his  commodity. 
Thus  the  second  limit  to  a  rise  in  wages  in  a  particular 
trade  is  the  amount  which  the  consumer  can  be  forced  to 
pay  for  its  products.  Workmen  have  often  made  mistakes 
by  not  taking  this  into  account,  and  have  checked  the 
demand  for  the  articles  which  they  produced,  and  so 
brought  about  a  loss  both  to  their  masters  and  themselves.^ 
In  a  particular  trade  then  the  limit  to  a  rise  in  wages  is 
reached  when  any  further  rise  will  drive  the  employer  out 
of  the  trade,  or  when  the  increased  price  of  the  commodity 
will  check  the  demand.  When  dealing  with  the  general 
trade  of  a  country,  however,  we  can  neglect  prices  altogether, 
since  there  can  be  no  such  thing  as  a  general  rise  in  prices 
while  the  value  of  the  precious  metal  is  stationary.  Could, 
then,  the  whole  body  of  the  workmen  throughout  the 
kingdom,  by  good  organisation,  compel  employers  to  accept 
lower  profits  ?  If  there  was  a  general  strike,  would  it  be 
the  interest  of  the  employers  to  give  way  ?  It  is  impossible 
to  answer  snch  a  question  beforehand.  It  would  be  a  sheer 
trial  of  strength  between  the  two  parties,  the  outcome  of 
which  cannot  be  predicted,  for  nothing  of  the  kind  has  ever 
actually  taken  place.  And  tliough  there  is  now  a  nearer 
approximation  than  ever  before  to  the  supposed  conditions, 
there  has  as  yet  been  nothing  like  a  general  organisation  of 
workmen. 

Assuming,  however,  that  the  workmen  succeeded  in  such 
a  strike,  we  can  then  ask  what  would  be  the  effect  of  a 
general  rise  of  wages  in  the  long-run?  One  of  several 
results  might  ensue.  The  remuneration  of  employers  having 
declined,  their  numbers  might  diminish,  and  the  demand 
for  labour  would  then  diminish  also  and  wages  falL  Or 
again  the  decline  in  the  rate  of  interest  might  check  the 
accumulation  of  capital,  thus  again  diminishing  the  demand 
for  labour.     Or,  on  the  other  hand,  the  rise  in  wages  might 

^  e.g.,  in  the  horae-nail  trade  wages  advanced  50  per  cent,  between 
1850  and  1864,  but  since  then  *  horse-nail  workmen  during  some  time 
have  not  had  half- work,  their  wages  also  declining.' — Timmina,  p.  116. 


106  THE  INDUSTRIAL  REVOLUTION 

be  permanent,  the  remuneration  of  employers  still  prov- 
ing sufficient,  and  the  accumulation  of  capital  remaining 
unchecked.  Or  lastly,  higher  wages  might  lead  to  greater 
efficiency  of  labour,  and  in  this  case  profits  would  not  fall. 
It  is  impossible  to  decide  on  a  priori  grounds  which  of  these 
results  would  actually  take  place. 

Returning  to  our  period,  we  may  apply  these  principles 
to  explain  the  fall  in  wages  between  1790  and  1820.  During 
this  period,  while  rent  was  doubled,  interest  also  was  nearly 
doubled  (this  by  the  way  disproves  Mr.  George's  theory  on 
that  point),^  and  yet  wages  fell.  We  may  take  Mr.  Porter's 
estimate.  '  In  some  few  cases  there  had  been  an  advance 
of  wages,  but  this  occurred  only  to  skilled  artisans,  and 
even  with  them  the  rise  was  wholly  incommensurate  with 
the  increased  cost  of  all  the  necessaries  of  life.  The  mere 
labourer  .  .  .  did  not  participate  in  this  partial  compensa- 
tion for  high  prices,  but  was  ...  at  the  same  or  nearly  the 
same  wages  as  had  been  given  before  the  war.'  In  1790 
the  weekly  wage  of  skilled  artisans  and  farm  labourers 
respectively  would  buy  82  and  169  pints  of  corn:  in  1800 
they  would  buy  53  and  83.*  According  to  Mr.  Barton,  a 
contemporary  writer,  wages  between  1760  and  1820, 'esti- 
mated in  money,  had  risen  100  per  cent.;  estimated  in 
commodities,  they  had  fallen  33  per  cent.'^  What  were 
the  causes  of  this  fall  ?  Let  us  first  take  the  case  of  the 
artisans  and  manufacturing  labourers.  One  cause  in  their 
case  was  a  series  of  bad  harvests.  To  explain  how  this 
would  affect  wages  in  manufactures  we  must  fall  back  on 
the  deductive  method,  and  assume  certain  conditions  from 
which  to  draw  our  conclusions.  Let  us  suppose  two  villages 
side  by  side,  one  agricultural,  the  other  manufacturing,  in 
the  former  of  which  the  land  is  owned  by  landowners,  and 
tilled  by  labour  employed  by  farmers.  Suppose  the  manu- 
facturing village  to  be  fed  by  its  neighbours  in  exchange  for 

*  Progress  and  Poverty,  book  iii.  ch.  vU.  p.  197. 

"  Progress  of  the  Nation,  1847,  p.  478. 

'  Inquiry  into  the  Depreciation  oj  Agricultural  Lahour,  by  J.  Barton 
(1820),  p.  11.  At  Bury,  in  SufiFolk,  a  labourer  in  1801  remembered  when 
wages  were  53.  ;  in  order  to  buy  as  much  in  1801  as  their  5a.  would  have 
bought  at  the  earlier  date,  they  should  have  been  £1,  da.  5d.  ;  they 
actually  wore  9s.  plus  6s.  from  the  rates,  or  altogether  158. 


THE  WAGE-FUND  THEORY  107 

cutlery.  Then,  if  there  is  a  bad  harvest  in  the  agricultural 
village,  every  labourer  in  the  manufacturing  village  will 
have  to  spend  more  on  corn.  The  owners  of  land  will  gain 
enormously ;  the  farmers  will  be  enriched  in  so  far  as  they 
can  retain  the  increased  prices  for  themselves,  which  they 
will  do,  if  holding  on  leases.  But  every  one  else  will  be 
poorer,  for  there  has  been  a  loss  of  wealth.  In  order  to  get 
his  corn,  the  labourer  will  have  to  give  more  of  his  share  of 
the  produce;  and  hence  the  demand  for  all  other  goods, 
which  are  produced  for  the  labourers*  consumption,  will 
diminish.  Nothing  affects  the  labourer  so  much  as  good  or 
bad  harvests,  and  it  is  because  of  its  tendency  to  neutralise 
the  consequences  of  deficient  crops  at  home,  that  the 
labourer  has  gained  so  much  by  Free  Trade.  When  we 
have  a  bad  harvest  here,  we  get  plenty  of  corn  from 
America,  and  the  labourer  pays  nearly  the  same  price  for 
his  loaf,  and  has  as  much  money  as  before  left  to  spend 
on  other  commodities.  Still,  even  at  the  present  day, 
some  depression  of  trade  is  generally  associated  with  bad 
harvests.  And  though  Free  Trade  lessens  the  force  of 
their  incidence  on  a  particular  locality,  it  widens  the  area 
affected  by  them — a  bad  harvest  in  Brazil  may  prejudice 
trade  in  England. 

The  next  point  to  be  taken  into  consideration  is  the  hugq 
taxation  v.hich  fell  upon  the  workmen  at  this  time;  even' 
as  late  as  1834  half  the  labourers'  wages  went  in  taxes. 
There  was  also  increase  in  the  National  Debt.  During  the 
war  we  had  nominally  borrowed  £600,000,000,  although 
owing  to  the  way  in  which  the  loans  were  raised,  the  actual 
sum  which  came  into  the  national  exchequer  was  only 
£350,000,000.  All  this  capital  was  withdrawn  from  pro- 
ductive industry,  and  the  demand  for  labour  was  diminished 
to  that  extent.  Lastly,  the  labourer  was  often  actually  paid 
in  bad  coin,  quantities  of  which  were  bought  by  the  manu- 
facturers for  the  purpose ;  and  he  was  robbed  by  the  truck 
system,  through  which  the  employer  became  a  retail  trader, 
with  power  to  over-price  his  goods  to  an  indefinite  extent. 

Some  of  these  causes  affected  the  agricultural  and  manu- 
facturing labourers  alike ;  they  suffered,  of  course,  equally 
from  bad  harvests.     But  we  have  seen  in  former  lectures 


108  THE  INDUSTEIAL  REVOLUTION 

that  there  were  agrarian  and  social  changes  during  this 
period,  which  told  upon  the  agricultural  labourer  exclu- 
sively. The  enclosures  took  away  his  common-rights,  and 
where  the  land,  before  enclosure,  had  been  already  in  culti- 
vation, they  diminished  the  demand  for  his  labour,  besides 
depriving  him  of  the  hope  of  becoming  himself  a  farmer, 
and,  to  mention  a  seemingly  small  but  really  serious  loss, 
cutting  off  his  supply  of  milk,  which  had  been  provided 
by  the  '  little  people '  who  kept  cows  on  the  commons.  He 
was  further  affected  by  the  enormous  rise  in  cottage  rents. 
Mr.  Drummond,  a  Surrey  magistrate,  told  the  Commission 
on  Labourers'  Wages  in  1824,  that  he  remembered  cottages 
with  good  gardens  letting  for  30s.  before  the  war,  while  at 
the  time  when  he  was  speaking  the  same  were  fetching 
£5,  £7,  or  £10. 

This  rise  was  due  to  causes  we  have  before  had  in  review, 
to  the  growth  of  population,  the  expulsion  of  servants  from 
the  farmhouses,  and  the  demolition  of  cottages  in  close 
villages.  When  the  labourers,  to  meet  the  deficiency,  built 
cottages  for  themselves  on  the  wastes,  the  farmers  pulled 
them  down,  and,  if  the  labourers  rebuilt  them,  refused  to 
employ  them,  with  the  result  that  such  labourers  became 
thieves  and  poachers.^  Again,  during  this  period,  it  was 
not  uncommon  for  the  farmers  absolutely  to  determine  what 
wages  should  be  paid,  and  the  men  in  their  ignorance  were 
entirely  dependent  on  them.  Here  are  two  facts  to  prove 
their  subservience.  In  one  instance,  two  pauper  families 
who  had  cost  their  parish  no  less  than  £20  a  year  each, 
were  given  instead  an  acre  of  land  rent  free,  and  the  rates 
were  relieved  to  that  amount ;  but  though  successful,  the 
experiment  was  discontinued,  'lest  the  labourer  should 
become  independent  of  the  farmer.'*  And  this  is  the 
statement  of  an  Essex  farmer  in  1793:  'I  was  the  more 
desirous  to  give  them  an  increase  of  pay,  as  it  was  unasked 
for  by  the  men,  who  were  content  with  less  than  they  had 
a  right  to  expect.'  The  agricultural  labourer  at  this  time 
was  in  an  entirely  helpless  condition  in  bargaining  with  his 
employer.  Nor  were  the  farmers  the  only  class  who 
profited  by  his  deterioration ;  for  the  high  rents  of  the  time 
^  Committee  on  Labourers'  Wages  (1824),  p.  47.  *  Ibid.,  p.  48. 


RICAEDO  AND  THE  GROWTH  OF  RENT      109 

were  often  paid  out  of  the  pocket  of  the  labourer.  The 
period  was  one  of  costly  wars,  bad  seasons,  and  industrial 
changes.  The  misfortunes  of  the  labouring  classes  were 
partly  inevitable,  but  they  were  also  largely  the  result  of 
human  injustice,  of  the  selfish  and  grasping  use  made  of  a 
power  which  exceptional  circumstances  had  placed  in  the 
hands  of  landowners,  farmers,  and  capitalists. 


XII 
RICAEDO   AND   THE  GROWTH   OF  RENT 

[nflasnce  of  Eicardo  on  economic  method — His  public  life — Hia  relation 
to  Bentham  and  James  Mill — Ricardo  supreme  in  English  Economics 
from  1817  to  1S48 — His  Law  of  Industrial  Progress — His  influence 
on  finance  and  on  general  legislation — The  effect  of  the  idea  of 
natural  law  in  his  treatise — The  Socialists  disciples  of  Ricardo — 
Assumptions  on  which  he  grounds  his  theory  of  the  constant  rise  in 
rents — His  correct  analysis  of  the  cause  of  Rent — Rent  not  the 
cause,  but  the  result  of  price — Explanation  of  rise  in  rents  between 
1790  and  1830 — Rise  of  rents  in  towns — Proposal  to  appropriate 
rent  to  the  State. 

In  Political  Economy,  as  in  other  sciences,  a  careful  study 
of  method  is  an  absolute  necessity.  And  this  subject  of 
method  will  come  into  special  prominence  in  the  present 
lecture,  because  we  have  now  to  consider  the  writings  of  a 
man  of  extraordinary  intellect  and  force,  who,  beyond  any 
other  thinker,  has  left  the  impress  of  his  mind  on  economic 
method.  Yet  even  he  would  have  been  saved  from  several 
fallacies,  if  he  had  paid  more  careful  attention  to  the  neces- 
sary limitations  of  the  method  which  he  employed.  It  may 
be  'truly  said  that  David  Ricardo  has  produced  a  greater 
effect  even  than  Adam  Smith  on  the  actual  practice  of  men 
as  well  as  on  the  theoretical  consideration  of  social  pro- 
blems. His  book  has  heen  at  once  the  great  prop  of  the 
middle  classes,  and  their  most  terrible  menace ;  the  latter, 
because  from  it  have  directly  sprung  two  great  text-books 
of  Socialism,  Das  Kapital  of  Karl  Marx,  and  the  Progress 
and  Poverty  of  Mr.  Henry  George.  And  yet  for  thirty  or 
forty  years  Ricardo's  writings  did  more  than  those  of  any 


no  THE  INDUSTRIAL  REVOLUTION 

other  author  to  justify  in  the  eyes  of  men  the  existing  state 
of  society. 

Eicardo's  life  has  little  in  it  of  external  interest.  He 
made  his  fortune  on  the  Stock  Exchange  by  means  of  his 
great  financial  abilities,  and  then  retired  and  devoted  him- 
self to  literature.  During  the  few  years  that  he  sat  in 
Parliament,  he  worked  (we  have  it  on  Huskisson's  testi- 
mony) a  great  change  in  the  opinions  of  legislators,  even  in 
those  of  the  country  squires — a  rerQarkable  fact,  since  his 
speeches  are  highly  abstract,  and  contain  few  allusions  to 
current  politics,  reading  in  fact  like  chapters  from  his  book. 
We  may  notice  one  direct  effect  of  his  speeches  :  they  were 
the  most  powerful  influence  in  determining  the  resumption 
of  cash  payments.  In  his  private  life  he  associated  much 
with  Benjham  and.  James  Mill 

James  Mill,  like  Bentham  and  Austin,  was  a  staunch 
adherent  of  the  deductive  method,  and  it  was  partly  through 
Mill's  influence  that  Kicardo  adopted  it.  Mill  was  his 
greatest  friend ;  it  was  he  who  persuaded  him  both  to  go 
into  Parliament,  and  to  publish  his  great  book.  Eicardo's 
political  opinions  in  fact  merely  reflect  those  of  James  Mill, 
and  the  other  philosophical  Eadicals  of  the  time,  though  in 
Political  Economy  he  was  their  teacher.  Eicardo  reigned 
without  dispute  in  English  Economics  from  18iUa  1848, 
and  though  his  supremacy  has  since  then  been  often  chal- 
lenged, it  is  by  no  means  entirely  overthrown.  His  influence 
was  such  that  his  method  became  the  accepted  method  of 
economists ;  and  to  understand  how  great  the  influence  of 
method  may  be,  you  should  turn  from  his  writings  and 
those  of  his  followers  to  Adam  Smith,  or  to  Sir  Henry 
Maine,  where  you  come  in  contact  with  another  cast  of 
mind,  and  will  find  yourselves  in  a  completely  different 
mental  atmosphere.  Now  what  is  this  deductive  method 
which  Eicardo  employed?  It  consists  in  reasoning  from 
one  or  two  extremely  simple  propositions  down  to  a  series 
of  new  laws.  He  always  employed  this  method,  taking  as 
his  great  postulate  that  all  men  will  on  all  matters  follow 
their  own  interests.  The  defect  of  the  assumption  lies  in 
its  too  great  simplicity  as  a  theory  of  human  nature.  Men 
do  not  always  know  their  own  interest.     Bagehot  points 


RICAEDO  AND  THE  GROWTH  OF  RENT      111 

out  that  the  £10  householders,  who  vere  enfranchised  by 
the  first  Reform  Bill,  were  after  1832  the  most  heavily- 
taxed  class  in  the  community,  though  the  remedy  was  in 
their  own  hands ;  because  they  were  ignorant  and  apathetic 
And  even  when  men  know  their  interests,  they  will  not 
always  follow  them;  other  influences  intervene,  custom, 
prejudice,  even  fear.  Cairnes_frankly  admits  these  defects 
in  Ricardo's  method;^  but  it  took  economists  some  thirty 
or  forty  years  to  learn  the  necessity  of  testing  their  con- 
clusions by  facts  and  observations,'  Since  1848  their 
attitude  has  improved ;  it  is  now  seen  that  we  must  insist 
upon  the  verification  of  our  premisses,  and  examine  our 
deductions  by  the  light  of  history. 

Ricardo  has  deduced  from  very  simple  data  a  famous  law 
of  industrial  progress.  In  an  advancing  community,  he 
says,  rent  must  jise,  profite  fall,  and. wages  remain  about 
the  same.'  VVe  Thall  find  from  actual  facts  that  this  law 
h^  l)een  often  true,  and  is  capable  of  legitimate  application, 
though  Mr.  Clifife-Leslie  would  repudiate  it  altogether ;  but 
it  cannot  be  accepted  as  a  universal  law.  The  historical 
method,  on  the  other  hand,  is  impotent  of  itself  to  give  us  a 
law  of  progress,  because  so  many  of  the  facts  on  which  it 
relies  are,  in  Economics,  concealed  from  us.  By  the  his- 
torical method  we  mean  the  actual  observation  of  the  course 
of  economic  history,  and  the  deduction  from  it  of  laws  of 
economic  progress ;  and  this  method,  while  most  useful  in 
checking  the  results  of  deduction  is,  by  itself,  full  of  danger 
from  its  tendency  to  set  up  imperfect  generalisations.  Sir 
H.  Maine  and  M.  Laveleye,  for  instance,  have  taken  an 
historical  survey  of  land-tenure,  and  drawn  from  it  the  con- 
clusion that  the  movement  of  property  in  land  is  always 
from  collective  to  individual  ownership ;  and  Mr.  Ingram,* 
again,  alluding  to  this  law,  accepts  it  as  true  that  there  is  a 
natural  tendency  towards  private  property  in  land.  He  can 
build  his  argument  on  the  universal  practice  from  Java  to 

*  Logical  Method  of  Political  Economy,  p.  42,  2nd  ed.,  1875. 

*  This  was  first  pointed  out  iu  a  review  of  Mill's  Principles  in  Frater'g 
Magazine  for  1S4S. 

*  Works  (M'CuUoch'a  edition,  1876),  pp.  54,  55,  375. 

*  The  Present  Position  and  Prospects  of  Politicai  Economy,  p.  22. 


112  THE  INDUSTRIAL  REVOLUTION 

the  Shetlands,  and  it  would  seem  a  legitimate  conclusion 
that  the  tendency  will  be  constant.  Yet  there  is  at  the 
present  day  a  distinct  movement  towards  replacing  private 
by  collective  ownership,  due  to  the  gradual  change  in  the 
opinions  of  men  as  to  the  basis  on  which  property  in  land 
should  rest.  Mill,  in  1848,  argued  that  where  the  cultivator 
was  not  also  the  owner,  there  was  no  justification  for  private 
ownership ;  later  in  his  life,  he  advocated  the  confiscation  of 
the  unearned  increment  in  land.^  If  we  ask.  Was  he  right  ? 
— the  answer  must  be :  Every  single  institution  of  society  is 
brought  to  the  test  of  utility  and  general  national  well- 
being  ;  hence,  private  property  in  land,  if  it  fails  under  this 
test,  will  not  continue.  So  too  with  the  rate  of  interest : 
older  economists  have  insisted  on  the  necessity  of  a  certain 
rate,  in  order  to  encourage  the  accumulation  of  capital ;  but 
we  may  fairly  ask  whether  the  rate  of  remuneration  for  the 
use  of  capital  is  not  too  high — whether  we  could  not  obtain 
sufficient  capital  on  easier  terms?  These  considerations 
show  that,  in  predicting  the  actual  course  of  industrial  pro- 
gress, we  must  not  be  content  to  say  that  because  there  has 
been  a  movement  in  a  certain  direction  in  the  past — for 
example,  one  from  status  to  contract — ^it  will  therefore  con- 
tinue in  the  future.  We  must  always  apply  the  test,  Does  it 
fit  in  with  the  urgent  present  requirements  of  human  nature? 
Ricardo's  influence  on  legislation,  to  which  I  have  already 
alluded,  was  twofold;  it  bore  directly  upon  the  special 
subject  of  currency  and  finance ;  and,  what  is  more  remark- 
able, it  affected  legislation  in  general.  As  regards  finance, 
his  pamphlets  are  the  real  justification  of  our  monetary 
system,  and  are  still  read  by  all  who  would  master  the 
principles  of  currency.  With  respect  to  other  legislation, 
he  and  his  friends  have  the  great  credit  of  having  helped  to 
remove  not  merely  restrictions  on  trade  in  general,  but 
those  in  particular  which  bore  hardest  on  the  labourer, 
When  Joseph  Hume,  in  1824,  proposed  the  repeal  of  the 
Combination  Laws,  he  said  he  had  been  moved  thereto  by 
Ricardo.  But  though  Ricardo  advocated  the  removal  of 
restrictions  which  injured  the  labourer,  he  deprecated  all 

*  See  the  papers  of  the  L&nd  Tenure  Reform  Association,  in  Diaseria- 
tiotu  and  Discussions,  vol.  ir. 


RICAEDO  AND  THE  GROWTH  OF  RENT      113 

restrictions  in  his  favour ;  he  ridiculed  the  Truck  Acts,  and 
supported  the  opposition  of  the  manufacturers  to  the  Factory 
Acts — an  opposition  which,  be  it  remembered,  though 
prompted  by  mere  class  interest,  was  also  supported  in  the 
name  and  on  the  then  accepted  principles  of  economic  science. 

In  this  way  Ricardo  became  the  prop,  as  I  have  called 
him,  of  the  middle  classes.     Throughout  his  treatise  there 
ran  the  idea  of  natural  law,  which  seemed  to  carry  with  it  a 
sort  of  justification  of  the  existing  constitution  of  society  as 
inevitable.     Hence  his  doctrines  have  proved  the  readiest 
weapons  wheremth  to  combat  legislative  interference  or  any 
proposals  to  modify  existing  institutions.     Hence,  too,  his , 
actual  conclusions,  although  gloomy  and  depressing,  werei 
accepted  without  question  by  most  of  his  contemporaries.'. 
Another  school,  however,  has  grown  up,  accepting  his  con-  ■ 
elusions  as  true  under  existing  social  conditions,  but  seeing  \ 
through  the  fallacy  of  his  '  natural  law.'     These  are  the  / 
Socialists,  through  whom  Ricardo  has  become  a  terror  to  the 
middle  classes.     The  Socialists  believe  that,  by  altering  the  • 
social   conditions   which    he    assumed    to    be    unalterable, 
Ricardo's   conclusions   can   be   escaped.      Karl  Marx   and 
Lassalle  have  adopted  Ricardo's  law  of  wages ;    but  they  , 
have  argued  that,  since  by  this  law  wages,  under  our  present  . 
social  institutions,  can  never  be  more  than  suflBcient  for  the 
bare  subsistence  of  the  labourer,  we  are  bound  to  reconsider 
the  whole  foundation  of  society.     Marx  also  simply  accepts 
Ricardo's   theory  of  value.     The  value   of  products,  said 
Ricardo,  is  determined  by  the  quantity  of  the  labour  ex- 
pended on  them ;  and  Marx  uses  this  statement  to  deduce 
the  theorem  that  the  whole  value  of  the  produce  rightly 
belongs  to  labour,  and  that  by  having  to  share  the  produce 
with  capital  the  labourer  is  robbed. 

Mr.  Henry  Greorge,  again,  the  latest  Socialist  writer,  is 
purely  and  entirely  a  disciple  of  Ricardo.  The  whole  aim 
of  his  treatise.  Progress  and  Poverty,  is  to  prove  that  rent 
must  rise  as  society  advances  and  wealth  increases.^    It  is 

^  We  find  almost  exactly  the  same  theoretical  conclusions  dra^n  from 
P.icardo's  premisses  by  Professor  Cairnes.  See  his  Leading  Principlts  of 
Political  Economy  (p.  333),  published  in  1864.  Of  course  he  does  not  al«> 
draw  the  same  Socialistic  conclusions  aa  Mr.  George. 

H 


114  THE  INDUSTKIAL  REVOLUTION 

not  the  labourer,  Eicardo  reasoned,  who  will  be  the  richer 
for  this  progress,  nor  the  capitalist,  but  the  owner  of  land. 
Mr.  George's  theory  of  progress  is  the  same.  Putting  aside 
his  attempt  to  show  a  connection  between  the  laws  of  inter- 
est and  wages,  which  he  contends  will  rise  and  fall  together, 
there  is  little  difference  between  his  conclusions  and 
Eicardo's.  Others  before  Mr.  George  had  clearly  enough 
seen  this  bearing  of  the  law  of  rent  Eoesler,  the  German 
economist,  says : '  Political  Economy  would  only  be  a  theory 
of  human  degradation  and  impoverishment,  if  the  law  of 
rent  worked  without  modification.'  ^ 

Now  let  us  see  what  are  the  assumptions  on  which 
Eicardo  grounded  his  law  about  the  course  of  rent,  wages, 
and  profits  in  a  progressive  community.  The  pressure  of 
population,  he  argued,  makes  men  resort  to  inferior  soils; 
hence  the  cost  of  agricultural  produce  increases,  and  there- 
fore rent  rises.  But  why  will  profits  fall  ?  Because  they 
depend  upon  the  cost  of  labour,*  and  the  main  element  in 
determining  this  is  the  cost  of  the  commodities  consumed 
by  the  workmen.  Eicardo  assumes  that  the  standard  of 
comfort  is  fixed.  If,  therefore,  the  cost  of  a  quartern  loaf 
increases,  and  the  labourer  is  to  obtain  the  same  number  of 
them,  his  wages  must  rise,  and  profits  therefore  must  fall. 
Lastly,  why  should  wages  remain  stationary?  Because, 
assuming  that  the  labourer's  standard  of  comfort  is  fixed,  a 
rise  of  wages  or  a  fall  in  prices  will  only  lead  to  a  propor- 
tionate increase  of  population.  The  history  of  the  theory  of 
rent  is  very  interesting,  but  it  is  out  of  our  road,  so  I  can 
only  lightly  touch  upon  it.  Adam  Smith  had  no  clear  or 
consistent  theory  at  all  on  the  subject,  and  no  distinct  views 
as  to  the  relation  between  rent  and  price.  The  modern 
doctrine  is  first  found  in  a  pamphlet  by  a  practical  farmer 
named  James  Anderson,  published  in  1777,  the  year  after 
the  appearance  of  The  Wealth  of  Nations ; '  but  it  attracted 
little  attention  till  it  was  simultaneously  re-stated  by  Sir 
Edward  West,  and  by  Malthus  in  his  pamphlet  on  the  Corn 

*  Roesler,  Orundsdtze,  p.  210,  quoted  in  Roscher's  Onmdlagen,  p.  352. 
'  That  is,  accepting  Mill's  correction  of  Ricardo's  theory. — See  bis 

Political  Economy,  yoI.  i.  p.  493  (Ist  ed.,  1848). 

•  Inquiry  into  tht  Nature  of  the  Corn  Lawa  (Edinburgh,  1777). 


RICARDO  AND  THE  GROWTH  OF  RENT      115 

Laws.^  Had  the  theory,  however,  been  left  in  the  shape  in 
which  they  stated  it,  it  would  have  had  little  influence.  It 
was  Ricardo,  who,  puzzled  by  the  question  of  rent,  snatched 
at  the  theory,  and  gave  it  currency  by  embodying  it  in  his 
whole  doctrine  of  value  and  of  economic  development. 
-  Ricardo's  two  great  positive  conclusions  are :  first,  that 
the  main  cause  of  rent  is  the  necessity  of  cultivating  inferior 
solTas  ctvifeation  advances ;  and  secondly,  that  rent  is  noT 
the  cause  but  the  result  of  price.'  The  theory~Eas""5ecn'dis-' 
puted  and  criticised,  but  nearly  all  the  objections  have  come 
from  persons  who  have  not  understood  it.  "We  may  say 
conclusively  that,  as  a  theory  of  the  causes  of  rent,  apart 
from  that  general  doctrine  of  industrial  development  of 
which  in  Ricardo  it  forms  a  part,  the  theory  is  true.  The 
one  formidable  objection  which  can  be  urged  against  it  is, 
that  the  rise  in  rents  in  modern  times  has  been  due  not  so 
much  to  the  necessity  of  resorting  to  inferior  soils,  as  to 
improvements  in  agriculture;  but  when  Professor  Thorold 
Rogers  '  attacks  the  theory  on  this  ground,  he  merely  proves 
that  Ricardo  has  overlooked  some  important  causes  which 
have  led  to  an  increase  of  rents  since  the  Middle  Ages. 

What,  then,  are  we  justified  in  stating  to  be  the  ultimate 
causes  of  rent  ?  First,  the  fertility  of  the  soil  and  the  skill 
of  the  cultivator,  by  which  he  is  able  to  raise  a  larger  pro- 
duce than  is  necessary  for  his  own  subsistence ;  this  makes 
rent  physically  possible.  Next,  the  fact  that  land  is  limited 
in  quantity  and  quality ;  that  is,  that  the  supply  of  the  land 
most  desirable  from  its  situation  and  fertility  is  less  than 
the  demand :  this  allows  of  rent  being  exacted.*    The  early 

^  Essay  on  the  Application  of  Capital  to  Land,  by  a  Fellow  of  Univer- 
•ity  College,  Oxford  (1815);  Observations  on  the  Effect  of  Com  Laws 
(1814),  by  RcT.  T.  R.  Malthua. 

'  Notice  the  verbal  ambiguity  of  the  text-books.  When  they  say  that 
'  rent  is  not  an  element  of  price,'  they  mean  that  it  is  not  a  cause  of  price. 
For  instance,  the  great  rent  paid  for  mills  is  an  element  in  the  price  of 
yam.  *  Contemporary  Revietc,  April  1 880. 

*  e.g.,  '  As  a  consequence  both  of  their  difference  of  situation  and  their 
fertility,  in  the  Himalaya,  the  fanners  low  down  on  the  sides  pay  50  per 
cent,  of  the  gross  produce  as  farm  rent,  and  higher  up  20  per  cent,  less.' 
— Boscher,  Political  Economy  (English  translation,  Chicago,  1878),  ii.  19. 
In  Bnence  Ayres,  '  only  a  short  time  since,  an  English  acre,  fifteen  legvas 
from  the  capital,  was  worth  from  3d.  to  4d. ,  ana  at  a  distance  of  fifty 
leyuas^  only  2d.' — Foid,,  ii.  28. 


116  THE  INDUSTRIAL  REVOLUTION 

colonists  in  America  paid  no  rent,  because  there  was  an 

abundance  of  land  open  to  every  one;   but  twenty  years 

later,  rent  was  paid  because  population  had  grown.     Let  us 

see  exactly  what  happens  in  such  a  case.    A  town  is  founded 

on  the  sea-coast ;  as  it  grows,  the  people  in  that  town  have 

to  get  some  of  their  food  from  a  distance.     Assume  that  the 

cost  of  raising  that  corn  and  bringing  it  to  the  town  is  20s., 

and  that  the  cost  of  raising  it  close  to  the  town  is  1 5s.  for 

every  five  bushels  (we   will  suppose   that  in   the  latter 

instance  the  cost  of  carriage  is  nil) ;  then,  as  both  quantities 

will  be  sold  at  the  same  price,  the  surplus  5s.  in  the  latter 

case  will  go  for  rent.     Thus  we  find  that  rent  has  arisen 

because  corn  is  brought  into  the  market  at  different  costs. 

In  twenty  years  more,  rents  will  have  risen  still  further, 

because  soils  still  more  inferior  in  fertility  or  situation  will 

''have  been  brought  into  cultivation.     But  the  rise  of  rent  is 

i    not  directly  due  to  the  cultivation  of  inferior  soils;   tha 

\  direct  cause  is  the  increase  of  population  which  has  made 

^that  cultivation  necessary. 

Going  back  to  the  question  raised  by  Professor  Rogers,  as 
to  the  effect  of  agricultural  improvements  on  rent,  we  may 
notice  that  the  controversy  on  this  question  was  first  fought 
out  between  Ricardo  and  Malthus.  Ricardo  thought  that 
improvements  would  lead  to  a  fall  in  rents ;  Malthus  main- 
tained the  opposite,  and  he  was  right.  Take  an  acre  of  land 
close  to  the  town,  such  as  we  were  considering  above,  with 
an  original  produce  of  five  bushels  of  wheat,  but  which, 
under  improved  cultivation,  yields  forty  bushels.  If  the 
price  of  wheat  remains  the  same,  and  all  the  land  under 
cultivation  has  been  improved  to  an  equivalent  extent,  the 
rent  will  now  be  5s.  multiplied  by  eight.  Yet  there  are  a 
few  historical  instances  where  agricultural  improvements 
have  been  followed  by  a  fall  in  rents.  For  instance,  during 
the  Thirty  Tears'  War  the  Swiss  supplied  Western  Germany 
with  corn,  and  introduced  improvements  into  their  agricul- 
ture, in  order  to  meet  the  pressure  of  the  demand.  After 
the  peace  of  Westphalia  the  demand  fell  off;  the  Swiss 
found  they  were  producing  more  than  they  could  sell ;  prices 
fell,  and,  as  a  consequence,  rents  fell  also.^ 

^  Roscher,  op.  cit.,  li.  32,  note. 


RICARDO  AND  THE  GROWTH  OF  RENT      117 

Professor  Rogers  has  further  objected  to  Ricardo's  theory 
that  it  does  not  explain  the  historical  origin  of  rent.    The 
term  '  rent '  is  ambiguous ;  it  has  been  used  for  the  payment 
of  knight-service,  for  the  performances  of  religious  offices, 
for  serfs'  labour  and  the  sum  of  money  for  which  it  was  ^ 
commuted.     In  Ricardo's  mouth  it  meant  only  the  money  ( 
rent  paid  by  a  capitalist  farmer,  expecting  the  usual  rates  of   ; 
profits ;  but  it  is  quite  true  that  these  modern  competition   ;' 
rents  did  not  arise  till  about  the  time  of  James  L^ 

The  last  point  in  the  theory  of  rent  is  the  relation  between 
rent  and  price.  Before  Ricardo's  time  most  practical  men 
thought  that  rent  was  a  cause  of  price.  Ricardo  answered, 
There  is  land  cultivated  in  England  which  pays  no  rent,  or 
at  least  there  is  capital  employed  in  agriculture  which  pays 
none ;  therefore  there  is  in  the  market  corn  which  has  paid 
no  rent,  and  it  is  the  cost  of  raising  this  com,  which  is 
grown  on  the  poorest  land,  that  determines  the  price  of  all 
the  corn  in  the  same  market'  Probably  he  was  right  in 
his  statement  that  there  is  land  in  England  which  pays  no 
rent ;  but  even  if  all  land  and  all  farmers'  capital  paid  rent, 
it  would  not  afifect  the  argument,  which  says  that  rent  is 
not  the  cause  but  the  result  of  price.  We  may  conclude  / 
that  at  the  present  day  rent  is  determined  by  two  things: 
the  demand  of  the  population,  and  the  quantity  and  quality 
of  land  available.  These  determine  it  by  fixing  the  price 
of  corn. 

Now  let  us  turn  to  facts,  to  see  how  our  theories  work.  * 
We  will  take  the  rise  in  rents  between  1790  and  1830, 
and  ask  how  it  came  about.  The  main  causes  were — 
(1)  Improvements  in  agriculture,  the  chief  of  which  were 
the  destruction  of  the  common-field  system,  rendering  pos- 
sible the  rotation  of  crops,  the  consolidation  of  farms  with 
the  farmhouse  in  the  centre  of  the  holding,  and  the  intro- 
duction of  machinery  and  manures;  (2)  the  great  growth 
of  population,  stimulated  by  mechanical  inventions ;  (3)  a 
series  of  bad  harvests,  which  raised  the  price  of  com  to  an 
unparalleled  height ;  (4)  the  limitation  of  supply,  the  popu- 
lation having  to  be  fed  with  the  produce  of  England  itself, 

*  Cortitrnporary  Eevieic,  April  1S80.  1 

*  Works,  p.  40  (M'Cnlloch'B  ed.,  1876).  / 


( 


118  THE  INDUSTRIAL  REVOLUTION 

since,  during  the  first  part  of  the  period  all  supplies  from 
abroad  were  cut  off  by  war,  and  later,  higher  and  higher 
protective  duties  were  imposed,  culminating  in  the  famous 
corn  bill  of  1816.  After  1815,  however,  a  fall  in  rents — 
not  a  very  great  one — took  place,  a  process  which  greatly 
puzzled  people  at  the  time.  It  was  the  consequence  of  a 
sudden  coincidence  of  agricultural  improvements  and  good 
harvests ;  there  was  for  a  time  an  over  production  of  corn, 
and  wheat  fell  in  price  from  90s.  to  35s.  This  fact  is  the 
explanation  of  Ricardo's  mistaken  idea  that  agricultural 
improvements  tend  to  reduce  rents.  Having  no  historical 
turn  of  mind,  such  as  Malthus  had,  he  did  not  recognise 
that  this  effect  of  agricultural  improvements  was  quite 
accidental.  This  case,  indeed,  and  the  instance  of  Switzer- 
land given  above,  with  the  similar  events  in  Germany  about 
1820,  are  the  only  historical  examples  of  such  an  effect. 
For  a  time  there  was  great  agricultural  distress ;  the  farmers 
could  not  get  their  rents  reduced  in  proportion  to  the  fall  in 
prices,  and  many,  in  spite  of  the  enormous  profits  they  had 
before  made  under  beneficial  leases,  were  ruined;  the 
farming  class  never  wholly  recovered  till  the  repeal  of  the 
Corn  Laws.  But  the  fall  was  temporary  and  exceptional. 
Taking  the  period  as  a  whole  its  striking  feature  is  the 
rise  of  rents,  and  this  rise  was  due  to  the  causes  stated :  in- 
creased demand  on  the  part  of  an  increased  population,  and 
limitation  of  quantity,  with  improved  quality,  of  the  land 
available. 

I  have  hitherto  been  considering  the  theory  of  agricultural 
rents ;  I  now  pass  to  a  subject  of  perhaps  greater  present 
importance — ground-rents  in  towns.  If  the  rise  in  the  rent 
of  agricultural  lands  has  been  great,  the  rise  in  that  of  urban 
properties  has  been  still  more  striking.  A  house  in  Lom- 
bard Street,  the  property  of  the  Drapers'  Company,  was  in 
1668  let  for  £25  ;  in  1887  the  site  alone  was  let  for  £2600. 
How  do  we  account  for  this  ?  It  is  the  effect  of  the  growth 
of  great  towns  and  of  the  improvements  which  enable 
greater  wealth  to  be  produced  in  them,  owing  to  the  develop- 
ment of  the  arts,  and  to  the  extension  of  banking  and  credit. 
Are  town  rents  then  a  cause  of  the  rise  in  prices  ?  Certainly 
not     Rent  may  be  an  element  in  price,  but  the  actual 


RICAEDO  AND  THE  GROWTH  OF  RENT      119 

amount  of  rent  paid  depends  upon  these  two  things :  the 
demand  of  the  population  for  commodities,  which  deter- 
mines price,  and  the  value  of  a  particular  site  for  purposes 
of  "business. 

These  considerations  bring  us  to  the  question  now  some- 
times raised :  Is  rent  a  thing  which  the  State  can  abolish  ? 
Is  it  a  human  institution,  or  the  result  of  physical  causes 
beyond  our  control  ?  If  we  abolish  agricultural  rent,  the 
result  would  simply  be,  as  Ricardo  says,  that  the  rent  would 
go  into  the  pockets  of  the  farmers,  and  some  of  them  would 
live  like  gentlemen.  Rent_  itself  is  the  result  of  physical 
causes,  but  it  is  within  our  power  to  say  who  shall  receive 
the  rent.  This  seems  a  fact  of  immense  importance,  but  the 
extent  of  its  significance  depends  largely  on  the  future 
course  of  rent  in  England ;  and  so  we  are  bound  to  inquire 
whether  Ricardo  was  right  in  assuming  that  rents  must 
necessarily  rise  in  a  progressing  state.  Many  think  the 
contrary,  and  that  we  are  now  on  the  eve  of  a  certain  and 
permanent  fall  in  agricultural  rents ;  and  if  rents  continue 
steadily  to  fall,  the  question  will  become  one  of  increasing 
insignificance.  As  means  of  communication  improve,  we  add 
more  and  more  to  the  supply  of  land  available  for  satisfying 
the  wants  of  a  particular  place ;  and  as  the  supply  increases, 
which  it  is  likely  to  do  to  an  increasing  extent,  the  price  of 
land  must  fall.  Social  causes  have  also  influenced  rents  in 
England,  and  social  changes  are  probably  imminent,  which 
will  at  once  reduce  the  value  of  land  for  other  than  agricul- 
tural purposes,  and  increase  the  amount  of  it  devoted  to 
agriculture.  Such  changes  would  likewise  tend  to  diminish 
rent.  "We  may  say  therefore  that,  since  there  are  these 
indications  of  a  permanent  fall  in  rents,  so  great  a  revolution 
as  the  transference  of  rent  from  the  hands  of  private  owners 
to  the  nation  would  not  be  justified  by  the  amount  which 
the  nation  would  acquire.  The  loss  and  damage  of  such  a 
revolution  would  not  be  adequately  repaid. 

But  will  rent  in  towns  fall  ?  Here  it  is  impossible  to 
predict.  For  instance,  we  cannot  say  whether  London  will 
continue  to  grow  as  rapidly  as  it  has  done  heretofore.  Now 
it  is  the  monetary  centre  of  the  world ;  owing  to  the  greater 
use  of  telegraphy,  it  is  possible  that  it  may  not  retain  this 


120  THE  INDUSTRIAL  REVOLUTION 

pre-eminence.  The  decay  of  the  provincial  towns  waa 
largely  due  to  the  growth  of  great  estates,  which  enabled 
their  proprietors  to  live  and  spend  in  London;  but  if 
changes  come  to  break  up  these  large  properties,  London 
will  cease  to  be  the  centre  of  fashion,  or  at  any  rate  to  have 
such  a  large  fashionable  population.  Politics,  moreover, 
are  certainly  tending  to  centre  less  in  London.  And  further 
inventions  in  the  means  of  locomotion  and  the  greater  use 
of  electricity  may  result  in  causing  a  greater  diffusion  of 
population. 


XIII 
TWO  THEORIES  OF  ECONOMIC  PROGRESS 

Distribution  of  Wealth  the  problem  of  the  present  time — Ricardo's 
theory  that  wages  will  remain  stationary  and  interest  fall — Facts 
disprove  both  propositions — Henry  George's  theory  of  economic  pro- 
gress likewise  contradicted  by  facts. 

Since  Mill,  in  1848,  wrote  his  chapter  on  the  future  of 
the  working  classes,  the  question  of  the  distribution  of 
wealth  has  become  of  still  greater  importance.  We  cannot 
look  round  on  the  political  phenomena  of  to-day  without 
seeing  that  this  question  is  at  the  root  of  them.  We  see 
the  perplexity  in  which  men  stand,  and  the  divisions 
springing  up  in  our  great  political  parties,  because  of  the 
uncertainty  of  politicians  how  to  grapple  with  it.  Political 
power  is  now  widely  diffused;  and  whatever  may  be  the 
evils  of  democracy,  this  good  has  come  of  it,  that  it  has 
forced  men  to  open  their  eyes  to  the  misery  of  the  masses, 
and  to  inquire  more  zealously  as  to  the  possibility  of  a 
better  distribution  of  wealth.  Economists  have  to  answer 
the  question  whether  it  is  possible  for  the  mass  of  the 
working  classes  to  raise  themselves  under  the  present 
conditions  of  competition  and  private  property.  Ricardo 
and  Henry  George  have  both  answered,  No  ;  and  the  former 
has  formulated  a  law  of  economic  development,  according 
to  which,  as  we  have  seen,  rent  must  rise,  profits  and 


TWO  THEORIES  OF  ECONOMIC  PROGRESS     121 

interest  fall,  and  wages  remain  stationary,  or  perhaps  fall. 
Now  is  there  any  relation  of  cause  and  effect  between  this 
rise  in  rent  and  fall  in  wages  ?  Ricardo  thought  not. 
According  to  his  theory,  profits  and  wages  are  fixed  inde- 
pendently of  rent ;  a  rise  in  rent  and  a  fall  in  wages  might 
be  due  to  the  same  cause,  but  the  one  was  not  the  result  of 
the  other,  and  the  rise  in  rent  would  not  be  at  the  expense 
of  the  labourers.  Yet  practical  opinion  goes  in  the  opposite 
direction.  From  the  evidence  of  farmers  and  land-agents 
we  see  that  it  is  widely  believed  that  the  high  rents  exacted 
from  farmers  have  been  partly  taken  out  of  the  pockets  of 
the  labourers.  'If  there  is  a  fall  in  the  price  of  corn, 
agricultural  wages  will  fall,  unless  there  is  a  corresponding 
fall  in  rent,'  was  said  before  a  Parliamentary  Commission 
in  1834.^  Ten  years  ago  the  connection  was  admitted  in 
Ireland;  and  the  Land  Act  of  1870  was  founded  on  the 
belief  that  rack-rents  were  not  really  the  surplus  left  when 
capital  and  labour  had  received  their  fair  returns,  and  that 
the  only  limit  to  the  rise  of  rents  was  the  bare  necessities 
of  the  peasantry.  In  England  it  has  been  assumed  that 
wages  and  profits  have  fixed  lines  of  their  own  independent 
of  rent,  but  this  is  not  universally  true ;  where  the  farmers 
have  suffered  from  high  rents,  they  in  their  turn  have 
ground  down  the  labourers.  Thus  even  in  England  rent 
has  been  exacted  from  the  labourer;  and  this  is  not  an 
opinion  but  a  fact,  testified  by  the  evidence  of  agents,  clergy, 
and  farmers  themselves.  What  appears  accurate  to  say 
about  the  matter  is,  that  high  rents  have  in  some  cases 
been  one  cause  of  low  wages. 

This  direct  effect  of  rent  on  wages  under  certain  condi- 
tions is  quite  distinct  from  the  '  brazen  law  of  wages  *  which 
Lassalle  took  from  Ricardo.  It  is  impossible,  according  to 
Ricardo,  for  labourers  to  improve  their  position  under  exist- 

^  See  Agricultural  Commutsion,  1882,  toI.  iii.  pp.  37-38;  on  the  other 
hand,  Kebbel's  Agricultural  Labourer,  p.  22,  and  Heath's  English 
PfMsaniry,  pp.  67,  348.  Mr.  Kebbel's  statement  really  bears  out  the 
assertion  in  the  text ;  he  says,  '  The  present  writer  could  point  to  more 
than  one  large  estate,  where  a  very  low  rental  has  been  paid  for  years, 
but  where  the  wages  of  the  labourer  are  perhaps  at  the  lowest  point, 
though  t/t€  attention  of  the  tenants  has  been  repeatedly  directed  to  thi 
aTiomaly.' 


122  THE  INDUSTRIAL  REVOLUTION 

ing  industrial  conditions,  for  if  wages  rise,  population  will 
advance  also,  and  wages  return  to  their  own  level;  there 
cannot  therefore  be  any  permanent  rise  in  them.  Ricardo, 
indeed,  did  not  deny  that  the  standard  of  comfort  varied  in 
dififerent  countries,  and  in  the  same  country  at  different 
times ;  but  these  admissions  he  only  made  parenthetically, 
he  did  not  seem  to  think  they  seriously  touched  the 
question  of  population,  and  they  did  not  affect  his  main 
conclusions.  For  instance,  he  argues  that  a  tax  on  corn 
will  fall  entirely  on  profits,  since  the  labourer  is  already 
receiving  the  lowest  possible  wages.  This  statement  may 
be  true  with  regard  to  the  very  lowest  class  of  labourers, 
but  it  certainly  does  not  apply  to  artisans,  nor  to  a  large 
proportion  of  English  working  men  at  the  present  time. 
With  them,  at  any  rate,  it  is  not  true  that  they  are  already 
receiving  the  lowest  possible  wage,  nor  that  there  is  an 
invincible  bar  to  their  progress.  Let  us  turn  to  the  test 
of  facts  and  see  if  wages  have  risen  since  1846.  Henry 
George  says  that  free  trade  has  done  nothing  for  the 
labourer;^  Mill,  in  1848,  predicted  the  same.  Professor 
Cairnes  came  to  a  very  similar  conclusion;  writing  in  1874 
he  said,  that  'the  large  addition  to  the  wealth  of  the 
country  has  gone  neither  to  profit  nor  to  wages,  nor  yet  to 
the  public  ^t  large,  but  to  swell  .  .  .  the  rent-roll  of  the 
owner  of  the  soil.'  ^  Yet  it  is  a  fact  that  though  the  cost 
of  living  has  undoubtedly  increased,  wages  have  risen  in  a 
higher  ratio.  Take  the  instance  of  a  carpenter  as  a  fair 
average  specimen  of  the  artisan  class.  The  necessaries  of  a 
carpenter's  family  in  1839  cost  24s.  lOd.  per  week;  in  1875 
they  cost  29s.  But  meanwhile  the  money  wages  of  a 
carpenter  had  risen  from  24s.  to  35s.  Thus  there  had  been 
not  only  a  nominal  but  a  real  rise  in  his  wages.  Turning 
to  the  labourer,  his  cost  of  living  was  about  15s.  in  1839,  it 
was  a  little  under  15s.  in  1875.  The  articles  he  consumes 
have  decreased  in  cost,  while  in  the  case  of  the  artisan  they 
have  increased,  because  the  labourer  spends  a  much  larger 
proportion  of  his  wages  on  bread.  The  labourer's  wages 
meanwhile  have  risen  from  8s.  to  12s.  or  14s.;  in  1839  he 

'  Progress  and  Poverty,  book  iv.  c.  iii.  p.  229,  4th  ed.,  1881. 
'  Leading  Principles,  p.  333. 


TWO  THEORIES  OF  ECONOMIC  PEOGRESS     123 

could  not  properly  support  himself  on  his  wages  alone.* 
These  facts  seem  conclusive,  but  certainty  is  difficult  from 
the  very  varying  estimates  of  consumption  and  money 
wages.  For  strong  proof  of  a  rise  in  agricultural  wages  we 
may  take  a  particular  instance.  On  an  estate  in  Forfar  the 
yearly  wages  of  a  first  ploughman  were  by  the  wages-book, 
in 

1840,         .£28     2    0  1870,        .  £42     5    0 

1850,         .     28  15    0  1880,         ^    48     9    0 

1860,         .     39    7     0 

According  to  his  own  admission  the  standard  of  comfort  of 
the  first  ploughman  employed  on  this  estate  in  1810  had 

^  Weekly  £xx>ense8  of  a  Carpenter  with  Wife  and  3  Children — 

In  1S39.         In  1875. 
».   d.  $.   d. 

8  quartern  loaves, 5    8  4    4 

8  lbs.  meat, 4     4  6    0 

\\  lbs.  butter, 16  19 

1  lb.  cheese, 0    7  0  8 

2  lbs.  sugar, 12  0  8 

J  lb.  tea, 16  0  8 

1  lb.  soap, 0     5  0  4 

1  lb.  candles 0     6  0  6 

1  lb.  rice, 0    4  0    2 

2  quarts  milk, 0    4  0    8 

Vegetables, 0    6  10 

Coals  and  firing, 10  2    4 

Rent, 4    0  6    6 

Clothes  and  sondries 3    0  3    6 

24  10  29    1 

Weekly  Expenses  of  a  Farm  Labourer  with  Wife  and  3  Children. 

In  1839.  In  1S75. 

s.     d.  $.    d. 

9  quartern  loaves, 6     44  4  10^ 

1^  lb.  meat  and  bacon,    .         .         .         .     0    9}  1     Of 

1  lb.  cheese, 0    7  0    8 

i  lb.  butter, 0    6  0    7 

2  oz.  tea, 0    9  0    4 

1  lb.  sugar, 0    7  0    4 

^  lb.  soap, 0    3  0    2 

I  lb.  candles 0     3  0     3 

Coals  and  firing 10  16 

Rent, 10  16 

Clothes  and  Sundries,    ....  3    0  36 

15     U  14    9^ 


124  THE  INDUSTEIAL  KEVOLUTION 

risen,  for  he  complained,  in  a  letter  describing  his  position, 
of  his  increased  expenditure,  increased  not  because  things 
were  dearer,  but  because  he  now  needed  more  of  them. 

We  may  take  as  further  evidence  the  statistics  of  the 
savings  of  the  working  classes ;  it  is  impossible  to  get  more 
than  an  approximate  estimate  of  them,  but  they  probably 
amount  to  about  £130,000,000.^  To  these  we  may  add  the 
savings  actually  invested  in  houses.  In  Birmingham  there 
are  13,000  houses  owned  by  artisans.  All  this  is  small 
compared  with  the  whole  capital  of  the  country,  which,  in 
1875,  was  estimated  at  £8,500,000,000  at  least,  with  an 
annual  increase  of  £235,000,000 — this  latter  sum  far  ex- 
ceeding the  total  savings  of  the  working  classes.*  The 
comparison  will  make  us  take  a  sober  view  of  their  improve- 
ment ;  yet  the  facts  make  it  clear  that  the  working  classes 
can  raise  their  position,  though  not  in  the  same  ratio  as  the 
middle  classes.  Mr.  Mulhall  also  estimates  that  there  is 
less  inequality  between  the  two  classes  now  than  forty  years 
ago.  He  calculates  that  the  average  wealth  of  a  rich  family 
has  decreased  from  £28,820  to  £25,803,  or  11  per  cent.; 
that  of  a  middle-class  family  has  decreased  from  £1439  to 
£1005,  or  30  per  cent. ;  while  that  of  a  working-class  family 
has  increased  from  £44  to  £86,  or  nearly  100  per  cent.'  But 
without  pinning  our  faith  to  any  particular  estimate,  we 
can  see  clearly  enough  that  the  facts  disprove  Eicardo's 
proposition  that  no  improvement  is  possible ;  and  there  are 
not  wanting  some  who  think  that  the  whole  tendency  of 
modern  society  is  towards  an  increasing  equality  of  con- 
dition. 

Was  Kicardo  any  more  correct  in  saying  that  interest  and 
profits  (between  which  he  never  clearly  distinguished)  must 
fall  ?  As  a  matter  of  fact,  for  the  last  century  and  a  half 
interest  in  England   has   been   almost   stationary,   except 

^  This  Bum  lias  been  carefully  calculated  from  the  statistics  of  Building 
Societies,  Savings  Banks,  Co-operative  Societies,  Trades-Unions,  Friendly 
Societies,  and  Industrial  and  Provident  Societies. 

'  GiflFen's  Essays  on  Finance,  p.  173-5.  See  also  Mulhall,  in  Contem- 
porary Review,  December  1881. 

*  Contemporary  Review,  February  1882.  He  defines  a  rich  family  as 
one  spending  over  £5000  ;  a  middle-class  family  as  one  spending  between 
£5000  and  £100 ;  a  working-class  family,  as  one  spending  under  £100. 


TWO  THEORIES  OF  ECONOMIC  PROGRESS    125 

during  the  great  vrar.  In  "Walpole's  time  it  was  three  per 
cent;  during  the  war  it  doubled,  but  after  the  peace  it 
dropped  to  four  per  cent.,  and  has  remained  pretty  steady  at 
that  rate  ever  since.  Ricardo  thought  that  the  cost  of  the 
labourer's  subsistence  would  necessarily  increase,  owing  to 
the  necessity  of  cultivating  more  land,  and  as  he  would  thus 
require  a  greater  share  of  the  gross  produce,  less  wealth 
would  be  left  for  the  capitalist.  He  overlooked  the  fact 
that  the  rate  of  interest  depends  not  merely  on  the  cost  of 
labour,  but  on  the  field  of  employment  as  well.  As  civilisa- 
tion advances,  new  inventions  and  new  enterprises  create  a 
fresh  demand  for  capital:  some  £700,000,000  have  been 
invested  in  English  railways  alone.  No  doubt,  if  the  field 
for  English  capital  were  confined  to  England,  the  rate  of 
interest  might  fall ;  but  Ricardo  forgot  the  possibility  of 
capital  emigrating  oh  a  large  scale.  Thus  Ricardo's  teaching 
on  this  point  is  deficient  both  in  abstract  theory  and  as 
tested  by  facts.  What  we  really  find  to  have  taken  place  is, 
that  though  rent  has  risen,  there  is  good  reason  to  suppose 
that  in  the  future  it  may  fall ;  that  interest  has  not  fallen 
much;  and  that  the  standard  of  comfort  and  the  rate  of 
wages,  both  of  artisans  and  labourers — of  the  former  most 
decidedly,  and  to  a  certain  extent  also  of  the  latter,  has  risen. 
I  wish  next  to  examine  Mr.  George's  theory  of  economic 
progress.^  Mr.  George  is  a  disciple  of  Ricardo,  both  in  his 
method  and  his  conclusions;  he  has  as  great  a  contempt 
for  facts  and  verification  as  Ricardo  himself.*  By  this 
method  he  succeeds  in  formulating  a  law,  according  to  which, 
in  the  progress  of  civilisation,  interest  and  wages  will  fall 
together,  and  rents  will  rise.  Not  only  is  the  labourer  in  a 
hopeless  condition,  but  the  capitalist  is  equally  doomed  to 
a  stationary  or  declining  fortune.  '  Rent,'  he  says,  '  depends 
upon  the  margin  of  cultivation,  rising  as  it  falls,  and  falling 
as  it  rises.  Interest  and  wages  depend  on  the  margin  of 
cultivation,  falling  as  it  falls,  and  rising  as  it  rises.' »    The 

^  The  arguments  here  used  against  Henry  George  are  expanded  in  the 
two  published  lectures  on  Progrtat  and  Poverty  which  were  delivered  in 
January  1883.— Ed. 

'  Proartsa  and  Poverty,  book  iii.  ch.  vi.  (4th  ed.,  p.  1$4). 

»  Ibid.,  p.  197. 


126  THE  INDUSTRIAL  REVOLUTION 

returns  wliich  the  capitalist  obtains  for  his  capital  and  the 
labourer  for  his  work,  depend  on  the  returns  from  the  worst 
land  cultivated ;  that  is,  on  the  quality  of  land  accessible  to 
capital  and  labour  without  payment  of  rent. 

Now  Mr.  George's  observations  are  derived  from  America, 
and  what  he  has  done  is  to  generalise  a  theory,  which  is  true 
of  some  parts  of  America,  but  not  of  old  countries.  His 
book  seems  conclusive  enough  at  first  sight.  There  is  little 
flaw  in  the  reasoning,  if  we  grant  the  premisses ;  but  there 
are  great  flaws  in  the  results  when  tested  by  facts?  Do 
interest  and  wages  always  rise  and  fall  together  ?  As  an 
historical  fact  they  do  not.  Between  1715  and  1760,  while 
rents  (according  to  Professor  Rogers)  rose  but  slowly  (Arthur 
Young  denies  that  they  rose  at  all),  interest  fell,  and  wages 
rose.  Between  1790  and  1815  rent  doubled,  interest 
doubled,  wages  fell.  Between  1846  and  1882  rents  have 
risen,  interest  has  been  stationary,  wages  have  risen.  Thus 
in  all  these  three  periods  the  facts  contradict  Mr.  George's 
theory.  Rent  indeed  has  generally  risen,  but  neither  profits 
nor  wages  have  steadily  fallen,  nor  have  their  variations 
borne  any  constant  relation  to  one  another.  Coming  to 
Mr.  George's  main  position,  that  rent  constantly  tends  to 
absorb  the  whole  increase  of  national  wealth,  how  does  this 
look  in  the  light  of  fact  ?  Does  all  the  increase  of  wealth, 
for  instance,  in  the  Lancashire  cotton  manufactures,  go 
simply  to  raise  rents  ?  Evidently  not.  "Wages  have  risen 
owing  to  improvements  in  machinery ;  and  in  most  cases 
profits  have  also  risen.  We  can  prove  by  statistics  that  in 
England  the  capitalists'  wealth  has  increased  faster  than 
that  of  the  landowners';  for  in  the  assessments  to  the 
income-tax  there  has  been  a  greater  increase  under  Schedule 
D,  which  comprises  the  profits  of  capitalists  and  the  earnings 
of  professional  men,  than  under  Schedule  A,  which  com- 
prises revenues  from  land.  At  the  same  time,  Mr.  George 
has  made  out  a  strong  case  against  private  property  in  land 
in  great  towns ;  but  here  he  has  only  restated  more  forcibly 
what  Adam  Smith  and  Mill  advocated,  when  they  recom- 
mended taxes  on  ground  rents  as  the  least  objectionable  of 
all  taxes.  Under  existing  conditions  the  working  people  in 
groat  towns  may  be  said  to  be  taxed  in  the  worst  of  ways 


THE  FUTURE  OF  THE  WORKING  CLASSES    127 

by  the  bad  condition  of  their  houses.  An  individual  or  a 
corporation  lets  a  block  of  buildings  for  a  term  of  years ; 
the  lessee  sublets  it,  and  the  sub-lessee  again  for  the  third 
time.  Each  class  is  here  oppressing  the  one  beneath  it,  and 
the  lowest  unit  suffers  most.  This  is  why  the  problem  of 
the  distribution  of  wealth  is  sure,  in  the  near  future,  to  take 
the  form  of  the  question,  how  to  house  the  labourers  of  our 
towns. 


XIV 
THE  FUTURE  OF  THE  WORKING  CLASSES 

Caasea  of  improvement  in  the  condition  of  the  working  classes  since  1846 
— Free  trade — Steady  price  of  bread  and  of  manufactured  produce — 
Steadiness  of  wages  and  regularity  of  employment — Factory  legisla- 
tion— Trades-Unions — Co-operation — Will  the  same  causes  continue 
to  act  in  the  future  ?  Moral  improvement  among  the  working  classes 
— Better  relations  between  workmen  and  employers — Evil  as  well 
as  good  in  the  close  personal  relationsliips  of  former  times — Trades- 
Unions  have  improved  the  relations  of  the  two  classes — Can  the 
workmen  really  secure  material  independence? — Various  solutions 
of  the  problem — Industrial  partnership — Communism — Modified 
Socialism. 

I  HAVE  thus  far  tried  to  show  that  the  material  condition 
of  the  workman  is  capable  of  improvement  under  present 
social  conditions.  I  wish  now  to  explain  the  causes  which 
have  contributed  to  its~actual  improvement  since  1846.  The 
most  prominent  of  these  causes  has  been  Free  Trade.  In  the 
first  place,  Free  Trade  has  enormously  increased  the  aggregate 
wealth  of  the  country,  and  therefore  increased  the  demand 
for  labour ;  this  is  an  indisputable  fact.  Secondly,  it  has 
created  greater  steadiness  in  trade, — a  point  which  is  often 
overlooked  in  discussions  of  the  subject.  Since  1846  work- 
men have  been  more  regularly  employed  than  in  the 
preceding  half-century.  Free  trade  in  wheat  has,  moreover, 
given  us  a  more  steady  price  of  bread,  a  point  of  paramount 
importance  to  the  labouring  man;  and  this  steadiness  is 
continually  becoming  greater.  From  1850  to  1860  the 
variation  between  the  highest  and  lowest  prices  of  wheat 


128  THE  INDUSTRIAL  REVOLUTION 

was  363.,  between  1860  and  1870  it  was  24s.,  and  in  the  last 
decade  it  has  been  only  15s.  And  since  the  sum  which  the 
workman  has  spent  on  bread  has  become  more  and  more 
constant,  the  amount  which  he  has  had  left  to  spend  on 
manufactured  produce  has  also  varied  less,  and  its  price  in 
consequence  has  been  steadier.  But  why  then,  it  may  be 
asked,  the  late  great  depression  of  trade  since  1877?  I 
believe  the  answer  is,  because  other  countries,  to  which  we 
sell  our  goods,  have  been  suffering  from  bad  harvests,  and 
have  had  less  capacity  for  buying.  The  weavers  in 
Lancashire  have  had  to  work  less  time  and  at  lower  wages 
because  far-off  nations  have  not  been  able  to  purchase  cotton 
goods,  and  the  depression  in  one  industry  has  spread  to 
other  branches  of  trade. 

The  greater  steadiness  of  wages  which  has  been  caused  by 
Free  Trade  is  seen  even  in  trades  where  there  has  been  no 
great  rise.  But  besides  the  amount  of  the  workman's  wages 
per  day  we  must  take  into  consideration  the  number  of  days 
in  the  year  and  hours  in  the  day,  during  which  he  works. 
He  now  finds  employment  on  many  more  days  (before  1846 
artisans  often  worked  only  one  or  two  days  in  the  week), 
but  each  working  day  has  fewer  hours ;  so  that  his  pay  is 
at  once  steadier  and  more  easily  earned.  And  hence  even 
where  his  daily  wages  have  remained  nearly  the  same,  with 
more  constant  employment  and  with  bread  both  cheap  and 
fixed  in  price,  his  general  position  has  improved. 

What  other  agencies  besides  Free  Trade  have  been  at 
work  to  bring  about  this  improvement  ?  Factory  legislation 
has  raised  the  condition  of  women  and  children  by  imposing 
a  limit  on  the  hours  of  work,  and  especially  the  sanitary 
environment  of  the  labourer;  the  factory  laws  seek  to 
regulate  the  whole  life  of  the  workshop.  Trades-Unions, 
again,  have  done  much  to  avert  social  and  industrial  dis- 
order, and  have  taught  workmen,  by  organisation  and  self- 
help,  to  rely  upon  themselves.  Herein  lies  the  difference 
between  the  English  and  the  Continental  workman;  the 
former,  because  he  has  been  free  from  voluntary  associa- 
tions, does  not  look  to  the  State  or  to  revolutionary  measures 
to  better  his  position.  For  proof  of  this,  it  is  enough  to 
compare  the  parliamentary  programme  of  the  last  Trades- 


THE  FUTURE  OF  THE  WORKING  CLASSES    129 

Unions  Congress  with  the  proceedings  of  the  International 
at  Geneva.  English  Trades- Unions  resort  to  a  constitutional 
agitation  which  involves  no  danger  to  the  State ;  indeed,  as  I 
have  said,  their  action  averts  violent  industrial  dislocations. 
And  beyond  this,  Trades-Unions  have  achieved  some  posi- 
tive successes  for  the  cause  of  labour.  By  means  of  their 
accumulated  funds  workmen  have  been  able  to  hold  out  for 
better  prices  for  their  labour,  and  the  Unions  have  further 
acted  as  provident  societies  by  means  of  which  their  mem- 
bers can  lay  up  sums  against  sickness  or  old  age.  The 
mischief  and  wastefulness  of  strikes  is  generally  enough 
insisted  on,  but  it  is  not  as  often  remembered  that  the 
largest  Unions  have  sanctioned  the  fewest  strikes;  the 
Amalgamated  Engineers,  who  have  46,000  members,  and 
branches  in  Canada  and  India,  expended  only  six  per  cent, 
of  their  income  on  strikes  from  1867  to  1877.  The  leaders 
of  such  a  great  Union  are  skilful,  well-informed  men,  who 
know  it  to  be  in  their  interest  to  avoid  strikes.* 

Lastly,  we  must  not  forget  to  mention  the  great  Co- 
opergitive  Societies,  which  in  their  modern  shape  date  from 
the  Rochdale  Pioneers'  Store,  founded  in  1844,  under  the 
inspiration  of  Robert  Owen's  teaching,  though  the  details 
of  his  plan  were  therein  abandoned.  These,  like  Trades- 
Unions,  have  taught  the  power  and  merit  of  voluntary 
association  and  self-help.  At  present,  however,  they  are 
only  big  shops  for  the  sale  of  retail  goods,  through  which 
the  workman  gets  rid  of  the  retail  dealer,  and  shares  himself 
in  the  profits  of  the  business,  by  receiving  at  the  end  of 
each  quarter  a  dividend  on  his  purchases.  Such  stores, 
however  useful  in  cheapening  goods,  and  at  the  same  time 
encouraging  thrift,  do  not  represent  the  ultimate  object  of 
co-operation.  That  object  is  to  make  the  workman  his  own 
employer.  Hitherto  the  movement  has  not  been  successful 
in  establishing  productive  societies ;  the  two  great  difiBculties 
in  the  way  being  apparently  the  inability  of  a  committee  of 
workmen  to  manage  a  business  well,  and  their  unwilling- 
ness to  pay  sufficiently  high  wages  for  superintendence. 
The  chief  obstacles  are  thus  moral,  and  to  be  found  in  the 
character  of  the  workmen,  and  their  want  of  education ;  but 
^  See  Howell's  Ccnjlict  of  Capital  and  Labovr. 
T 


130  THE  INDUSTRIAL  REVOLUTION 

as  their  character  and  education  improve,  there  is  no  reason 
why  these  difficulties  should  not  vanish. 

Such  are  the  chief  agencies  to  which  we  trace  the  im- 
provement in  the  position  of  the  labourer  during  the  last 
forty  years.  At  the  beginning  of  this  period  Mill  insisted 
on  one  thing  as  of  paramount  importance,  namely  restriction 
upon  the  increase  of  population,  and  without  this  he 
believed  all  improvement  to  be  impossible.  Yet  we  find 
that  during  this  period  the  rate  of  increase  has  not  slackened. 
It  is  nearly  as  great  now  as  between  1831  and  1841.  It 
was  greater  during  the  last  decade  than  it  had  been  since 
1841.  On  the  other  liand,  there  has  undoubtedly  been  an 
enormous  emigration  which  has  lightened  the  supply  of 
labour.  Three  millions  and  a  half  of  people  have  emigrated 
from  Great  Britain  since  1846. 

The  question  which  now  most  deeply  concerns  us  is, 
Will  the  same  causes  operate  in  the  future?  Will  Free 
Trade  continue  to  be  beneficial  ?  Will  our  wealth  continue 
to  increase  and  our  trade  to  expand  ?  On  this  point  a 
decided  prediction  is  of  course  impossible.  Competition  in 
neutral  markets  is  becoming  keener  and  keener,  and  we 
may  be  driven  out  of  some  of  them,  and  thus  the  national 
aggregate  of  wealth  be  lessened.  But,  on  the  other  hand, 
we  have  reason  to  believe  that  increased  supplies  of 
corn  from  America  and  Australia  will  give  an  enormous 
impetus  to  trade.  As  in  the  past  so  in  the  future  corn  is 
the  commodity  of  most  importance  to  the  labourer ;  and  if 
the  supply  of  corn  becomes  more  constant,  trade  will  be 
steadier  and  wages  will  probably  rise.  Besides,  cheap  corn 
means  that  all  over  the  world  the  purchasing  power  of 
consumers  is  increased,  and  this  again  will  stimulate  trade. 
So  that  in  this  respect  the  labourers'  outlook  is  a  hbpeful 
one.  As  to  emigration  also,  there  is  no  reason  to  suppose 
that  there  will  be  any  check  on  this  relief  to  the  labourer 
for  the  next  fifty  years  at  least.  Again,  there  is  every 
prospect  of  co-operation  and  even  productive  co-operation 
making  great  progress  in  the  future,  though  I  do  not  think 
that  the  latter  is  likely  for  some  time  to  be  an  important 
factor  in  improving  the  status  of  the  workmen.  The  moral 
obstacles  to  co-operative  production  which  I  mentioned  will 


THE  FUTURE  OF  THE  WORKING  CLASSES     131 

disappear  but  slowly.  In  certain  directions,  however,  it  is 
likely  to  develop ;  I  mean  in  the  direction  of  manufacturing 
for  the  great  Wholesale  Co-operative  Societies,  because  here 
the  market  is  secured.  Trades-Unions  too  are  likely  to 
expand. 

Turning  to  the  moral  condition  of  the  workpeople,  we 
find  an  improvement  greater  even  than  their  material 
progress.  When  we  see  or  read  of  what  goes  on  in  the 
streets  of  our  great  towns,  we  think  badly  enough  of  their 
morality;  but  those  who  have  had  most  experience  in 
manufacturing  districts  are  of  opinion  that  the  moral 
advance,  as  manifested,  for  example,  in  temperance,  in 
orderly  behaviour,  in  personal  appearance,  in  dress,  has 
been  very  great.  For  the  improvement  in  the  inner  life 
of  workshops  as  early  as  1834,  take  the  evidence  of  Francis 
Place,  a  friend  of  James  Mill,  before  a  Committee  of  the 
House  of  Commons  in  that  year.  He  told  the  Committee 
that,  when  he  was  a  boy,  he  used  to  hear  songs,  such  as  he 
could  not  repeat,  sung  in  respectable  shops  by  respectable 
people ;  it  was  so  no  longer,  and  he  was  at  a  loss  how  to 
account  for  the  change.^  Similar  statements  are  made  by 
workmen  at  the  present  day.  Conversation,  they  say,  is 
bad  at  times,  but  opinion  is  setting  more  and  more  against 
immoral  talk.  The  number  of  subjects  which  interest  work- 
people is  much  greater  than  before,  and  the  discussion  of 
the  newspaper  is  supplanting  the  old  foul  language  of  the 
workshop.  We  have  here  an  indirect  efifect  of  the  exten- 
sion of  the  suffrage.  Add  to  this  the  statistics  of  drunken- 
ness. In  1855  there  were  nearly  20,000  persons  convicted 
for  drunkenness,  in  1880  there  were  not  many  more  than 
11,000. 

Again,  the  relations  between  workmen  and  employers  are 
certainly  much  better.  The  old  life,  as  described  by  Owen 
and  Cobbett,  of  an  apprentice  in  the  workshop,  or  a  boarded 
labourer  in  the  farmhouse,  is  at  first  sight  most  attractive ; 
and  the  facts  told  to  the  Commission  of  1806  seem  to  realise 
the  ideal  life  of  industry.  The  relations  between  masters 
and  workmen  were  then  extremely  close,  but  this  close 
relationship  had  its  bad  side.  There  was  often  gr- .» i 
»  Porter,  pp.  683-685.- 


132  THE  INDUSTRIAL  REVOLUTION 

brutality  and  gross  vice.  The  workman  was  at  his  em- 
ployer's mercy:  in  Norfolk  the  farmer  used  to  horsewhip 
his  labouring  men,  and  his  wife  the  women.^  There  existed 
a  state  of  feudal  dependence,  which,  like  all  feudalism,  had 
its  dark  and  light  sides.  The  close  relationship  was  dis- 
tinctly the  result  of  the  small  system  of  industry,  and  hence 
it  was  shattered  by  the  power-loom  and  the  steam-engine. 
When  huge  factories  were  established  there  could  no  longer 
be  a  close  tie  between  the  master  and  his  men ;  the  work- 
man hated  his  employer,  and  the  employer  looked  on  his 
workmen  simply  as  hands.  From  1800  to  1843  their 
mutual  relations,  as  was  admitted  by  both  parties,  were 
as  bad  as  they  could  be.  There  coidd  be  no  union,  said 
employers,  between  classes  whose  interests  were  different, 
and  farmers,  contrary  to  ancient  usage,  ruthlessly  turned 
off  their  men  when  work  was  slack.  The  '  cashnexus '  had 
come  in,  to  protest  against  which  Carlyle  wrote  his  Fast  and 
Present;  but  "Carlyle  was  wrong  in  supposing  that  the  old" 
conditions  of  labour  could  be  re-established.  Feudalism, 
though  it  lingers  in  a  few  country  places,  has  virtually 
disappeared  alike  in  agriculture  and  in  trade.  The  employer 
cannot  offer  and  the  workman  cannot  accept  the  old  rela- 
tions of  protection  and  dependence:  for,  owing  to  the 
modern  necessity  of  the  constant  movement  of  labour 
from  place  to  place  and  from  one  employment  to  another, 
it  has  become  impossible  to  form  lasting  relations,  and  the 
essence  of  the  old  system  lay  in  the  permanency  of  the 
workmen's  engagements.  Trades-Unions  too  have  done 
much  to  sever  what  was  left  of  the  old  ties.  Workmen 
are  now  obliged,  in  self-defence,  to  act  in  bodies.  In 
every  workshop  there  are  men  who  are  attached  to  their 
masters,  and  who  on  occasion  of  a  strike  do  not  care  to 
come  out,  but  are  yet  compelled  to  do  so  in  the  common 
interest.  Before  this  obligation  was  recognised  by  public 
opinion,  the  effect  of  Unions  was,  no  doubt,  to  embitter  the 
relations  between  masters  and  men.  This  was  especially 
the  case  between  1840  and  1860. 

Since  the  latter  date,  however,  Trades-Unions  have  dis- 
tinctly improved  the   relations  between  the   two   classes. 
1  See  Dr.  Jessop,  in  the  Ninetetnth  Century,  May  1882. 


THE  FUTURE  OF  THE  WORKING  CLASSES    133 

Employers  are  beginning  to  recognise  the  necessity  of  them, 
and  the  advantages  of  being  able  to  treat  with  a  whole 
body  of  workmen  through  their  most  intelligent  members. 
Boards  of  Conciliation,  in  which  workmen  and  employers 
sit  side  by  side,  would  be  impossible  without  Unions  to 
enforce  obedience  to  their  decisions.  In  the  north  of 
England,  at  the  present  moment,  it  is  the  non-unionists  who 
are  rejecting  arbitration.  And  the  reason  why  such  Boards 
have  succeeded  is,  because  the  employers  have  of  their  own 
accord  abandoned  all  ideas  of  the  feudal  relation.  They 
used  to  say  that  it  would  degrade  them  to  sit  at  the  same 
board  with  their  workmen ;  but  it  is  noticeable  that  directly 
the  political  independence  of  the  latter  was  recognised,  as 
soon  as  he  possessed  the  franchise,  these  objections  began  to 
disappear.  The  new  union  of  employers  and  workmen 
which  is  springing  up  in  this  way,  is  based  on  the  indepen- 
dence of  both  as  citizens  of  a  free  state.  Tlie  employers 
meet  their  workmen  also  in  political  committees,  on  School 
Boards  and  similar  bodies,  and  the  two  classes  are  learning 
to  respect  one  another.  Thus  this  new  union  bids  fair  to 
be  stronger  than  the  old  one. 

Still  the  question  remains.  Can  this  political  indepen- 
dence of  the  workman  be  combined  with  secure  material 
independence  ?  Until  this  is  done  he  will  be  always  at  the 
mercy  of  his  employer,  who  may  practically  stultify  hia 
political  power  by  influencing  his  vote,  as  Mr.  George  asserts 
is  done  in  New  England.^  Among  the  many  solutions  of 
this  problem  proposed  in  our  own  country  two  deserve 
especial  prominence.  The  first  is  that  of  the  English 
Positivists.  Comte,  although  he  had  but  a  glimpse  of  the 
English  Trades-Unions,  understood  the  meaning  of  them  far 
better  than  Mill.  Inspired  by  him,  Mr.  Frederic  Hanison 
and  his  friends  deny  the  possibility  of  solving  the  labour 
question  by  co-operative  production  or  any  such  schemes. 
They  rely  on  a  gradual  change  in  the  moral  nature  of 
capitalists ;  n'of  that  they  expect  the  old  system  of  feudal 
protection  to  return,  but  they  hope  that  the  '  captains  of 
industry'  of  the  future  will  rise  to  another  conception  of 
their  position,  will  recognise  the  independence  of  the  work- 

*  Progress  and  Poverty ^  book  x.  c.  ir.  p.  4S0. 


134  THE  INDUSTRIAL  REVOLUTION 

man,  and  at  the  same  time  be  willing  to  hand  over  to  him 
an  increased  share  of  their  joint  produce.  This  belief  may 
seem  ridiculous,  and  we  must  expect  for  a  long  time  yet  to 
see  capitalists  still  striving  to  obtain  the  highest  possible 
profits.  But  observe,  that  the  passion  for  wealth  is  certainly 
in  some  senses  new.  It  grew  up  very  rapidly  at  the  begin- 
ning of  the  present  century;  it  was  not  so  strong  in  the 
last  century,  when  men  were  much  more  content  to  lead  a 
quiet  easy  life  of  leisure.  The  change  has  really  influenced 
the  relations  between  men ;  but  in  the  future  it  is  quite 
possible  that  the  scramble  for  wealth  may  grow  less  intense, 
and  a  change  in  the  opposite  direction  take  place.  The 
Comtists  are  right  when  they  say  that  men's  moral  ideas 
are  not  fixed.  The  attitude  of  public  opinion  towards 
slavery  was  completely  changed  in  twenty  or  thirty  years. 
Still  I  am  obliged  to  believe  that  such  a  moral  revolution  as 
the  Comtists  hope  for  is  not  possible  within  a  reasonable 

^j^  space  of  time, 
f''^^'     I  should  have  more  hope  of  Industrial  Partnership  as 

'^^^  '>  elaborately  described  by  Mr.  Sedley  Taylor.^  This  also 
implies  a  certain  change  in  the  moral  nature  of  the 
employers,  but  one  not  so  great  as  the  alternative  system 
would  require.  It  has  been  adopted  in  over  a  hundred 
Continental  workshops,  though  the  experiment  of  Messrs. 
Briggs  in  England  ended  in  failure.  There  is  hope  of  its 
being  more  successful  in  the  future,  because  by  promoting 
the  energy  of  the  workmen  and  diminishing  waste,  it 
coincides  with  the  interest  of  the  employer.  I  think  that 
in  some  industries  it  will  extend,  but  that  it  will  not  be 
generally  adopted. 

There  remains  the  ordinary  Communist  solution.  This 
has  taken  various  forms;  the  simplest  being  a  voluntary 
association  of  individuals  based  on  the  principle  of  common 
property,  and  in  which  every  person  works  for  the  com- 
munity according  to  fixed  rules.  There  are  many  successful 
instances  of  this,  on  a  small  scale,  in  the  United  States,' 
but  we  cannot  suppose  such  a  solution  to  be  possible  for 

*  The   Participation  of  Labour   (London,    1881),   rucI    Projit-aharing 
between  Capital  and  Labour  (Cambridge,  1882). 
■  See  Nordhoflfs  Communistic  Societies.        « 


THE  FUTURE  OF  THE  WORKING  CLASSES     135 

society  as  a  whole.  It  has  only  been  tried  with  picked 
materials,  whereas  our  object  is  rather  to  improve  the 
great  mass  of  the  population.  The  Communism  of  recent 
European  theorists,  of  whom  the  best  known  is  I<assalle, 
presents  a  somewhat  different  aspect.^  It  aims  at^  iSe 
appropriation  of  all  instruments  of  production  by  the  State, 
whichls  to  take  charge  of  the  whole  national  industry  and 
direct  it.  But  the  practical  difficulty  of  such  a  scheme  is 
obviously  overwhelming. 

The  objections  to  a  Communistic  solution  do  not  apply  to 
Socialism  in  a  more  modified  shape.  Historically  speaking, 
Socialism  has  already  shown  itself  in  England  in  the  exten- 
sion of  State  interference.  It  has  produced  the  Factory 
Laws,  and  it  is  nov:  beginning  to  advance  further  and 
interfere  directly  in  the  division  of  produce  between  the 
workmen  and  their  employers.  T^^ejEmployars'  Liability 
Act  recognises  that  workmen,  e^in^'wEen  associated  in 
Trades-Unions,  cannot  without  other  aid  secure  full  justice, 
and  in  the  name  of  justice  it  has  distinctly  handed  over  to 
the  workmen  a  certain  portion  of  the  employers'  wealth. 
The  extension  of  regulative  interference  however,  though  it 
is  to  be  expected  in  one  or  two  directions,  is  not  likely  to 
be  of  much  further  importance.  With  regard  to  taxation, 
on  the  other  hand,  Socialist  principles  will  probably  attain 
a  wide-reaching  application,  and  here  we  shall  see  great 
changes. 

The  readjustment  of  taxation  would  enable  the  State  to 
supply  for  the  people  many  things  which  they  cannot 
supply  for  themselves.  Without  assuming  the  charge  of 
every  kind  of  production,  the  State  might  take  into  its 
hands  such  businesses  of  vital  importance  as  railways,  or 
the  supply  of  gas  and  water.  And  should  not  the  State 
attempt  in  the  future  to  grapple  with  such  questions  as 
the  housing  of  the  labourers  ?  Municipalities  might  be 
empowered  to  buy  ground  and  let  it  for  building  purposes 
below  the  full  competition  market  value.  I  think  that  such 
a  scheme  is  practicable  without  demoralising  the  people, 
and  it  would  attack  a  problem  which  has  hitherto  baffled 

^  See  the  account  of  his  eystem  in  M.  de  Lavelcye'a  Le  Socialism 
Contempsrain. 


136  THE  INDUSTRIAL  REVOLUTION 

every  form  of  private  enterprise ;  for  all  the  Societies  put 
together,  which  have  been  formed  in  London  with  this 
object  since  1842,  have  succeeded  in  housing  only  60,000 
persons.  And  this  brings  up  the  whole  question  of  public 
expenditure  for  the  people.  A  new  form  of  association, 
which  has  become  common  of  late  years,  is  that  of  a  certain 
number  of  private  individuals  combining  to  provide  for  some 
want  of  the  public,  such  as  Coffee  Taverns,  or  Artisans' 
Dwellings,  or  cheap  music.  Such  Societies  are  founded 
primarily  with  philanthropic  objects,  but  they  also  aim  at  a 
fair  interest  on  their  capital.  Might  not  municipalities 
seek  in  a  similar  way  to  provide  for  the  poor  ?  In  discuss- 
ing all  such  schemes,  however,  we  must  remember  that  the 
real  problem  is  not  how  to  produce  some  improvement  in 
the  condition  of  the  working  man — for  that  has  to  a  certain 
extent  been  attained  already — but  how  to  secure  his  com- 
plete material  independence.^ 

^  The  subject  of  this  lecture  i^  alao  treated  of  in  the  Address  Are 
Radicals  Socialists  ? — Ed. 


KIOARDO  AND  THE  OLD  POLITICAL 

ECONOMY 


The  change  that  has  come  over  Political  Economy — Ricardo  responsible 
for  the  form  of  that  Science — The  causes  of  his  great  influence — The 
economic  aseumptioas  of  his  treatise — Ricardo  ignorant  of  the  nature 
of  his  own  method — Malthus's  protest — Limitations  of  Ricardo's 
doctrine  recognised  by  Mill  and  Senior — Observation  discouraged  by 
the  Deductive  Method — The  effect  of  the  Labour  Movement  on 
Economics — Modifications  of  the  Science  by  recent  writers — The  new 
method  of  economic  investigation. 

The  bitter  argument  between  economists  and  human  beings 
has  ended  in  the  conversion  of  the  economists.  But  it  was 
not  by  the  fierce  denunciation  of  moralists,  nor  by  the  mute 
visible  suffering  of  degraded  men,  that  this  conversion  was 
effected.  What  the  passionate  protests  of  Fast  and  Present 
and  the  grave  official  revelations  of  government  reports 
could  not  do,  the  chill  breath  of  intellectual  criticism  has 
done.  Assailed  for  two  generations  as  an  insult  to  the 
simple  natural  piety  of  human  affections,  the  Political 
Economy  of  Ricardo  is  at  last  rejected  as  an  intellectual 
imposture.  The  obstinate,  blind  repulsion  of  the  labourer 
is  approved  by  the  professor. 

Yet  very  few  people  even  now  understand  the  nature  of 
that  system.  I  have  called  it  the  Political  Economy  of 
Eicardo,  because  it  was  he,  more  than  any  one,  who  gave 
to  the  science  that  peculiar  form  which,  on  the  one  hand, 
excited  such  intense  antagonism,  and,  on  the  other,  procured 
it  the  extraordinary  influence  which  it  has  exercised  over 
English  thought  and  English  politics. 

No  other  book  on  the  subject  ever  provoked  the  same 
fierce,  intellectual  disparagement  and  moral  aversion  as  the 

137 


138  RICARDO  AND 

Principles  of  Political  Economy  and  Taxation ;  no  other 
book,  not  even  the  Wealth  of  Nations,  obtained  the  same 
immediate  ascendency  over  men  of  intellectual  eminence. 
Evidence  of  the  first  statement  may  be  sought  in  innumer- 
able refutations  by  economists  and  moralists;  evidence  of 
the  second  it  seems  worth  while,  in  view  of  recent  contro- 
versies, to  recall  once  more.  To  Colonel  Torrens,  an  econo- 
mist of  remarkable  vigour  and  independence,  Eicardo  was 
still  in  1844  'his  great  master';  to  John  Mill,  writing  about 
1830,  his  book  was  the  'immortal  Prvricij)les  of  Political 
Economy  and  Taxation')  to  Charles  Austin," iiaany  years 
later,  there  was,  with  one  or  two  exceptions,  nothing  in  that 
great  work  which  he  desired  to  see  altered ;  and  to  De 
Quincey,  writing  soon  after  his  first  perusal  of  the  book,  it 
seemed  the  revelation  of  a  new  science.  'Had  this  pro- 
found work,'  he  writes  in  the  Confessions  of  an  Opium  Eater, 
'been  really  written  in  England  during  the  nineteenth 
century  ?  Was  it  possible  ?  I  supposed  thinking  had  been 
extinct  in  England,  Could  it  be  that  an  Englishman,  and 
he  not  in  academic  bowers,  but  oppressed  by  mercantile  and 
senatorial  cares,  had  accomplished  what  all  the  universities 
of  Europe  and  a  century  of  thought  had  failed  even  to 
advance  by  one  hair's-breadth  ?  All  other  writers  had  been 
crushed  and  overlaid  by  the  enormous  weight  of  facts  and 
documents;  Mr.  Eicardo  had  deduced,  a  priori,  from  the 
understanding  itself,  laws  which  first  gave  a  ray  of  light 
into  the  unwieldly  mass  of  materials,  and  had  constructed 
what  had  been  but  a  collection  of  tentative  discussions  into 
a  science  of  regular  proportions,  now  first  standing  on  an 
eternal  basis.'  Not  merely  the  members  of  the  school  to 
which  Eicardo  belonged,  and  literary  philosophers  like  De 
Quincey,  but  even  the  Tories  themselves,  the  ancient  natural 
enemies  of  the  economists,  joined  in  the  applause.  Christo- 
pher North,  in  Blackwood's  Magazine,  in  a  professed  eulogy 
of  Adam  Smith,  placed  Eicardo  above  him. 

At  first  sight  nothing  appears  more  strange  than  this 
antipathy  to,  and  this  adoration  of  Eicardo.  The  bitter 
antagonism,  the  unqualified  admiration  seem  alike  in- 
explicable. Wliy  should  a  treatise  so  remote,  so  abstract, 
80  neutral,  not  filled  with  passion,  like  the  Wealth  of  Nations, 


THE  OLD  POLITICAL  ECONOMY  139 

not  eloquent  in  denunciation  and  exhortation,  stating  con- 
clusions without  eagerness,  suggesting  applications  almost 
without  design,  why  should  such  a  treatise  as  this  excite  an 
uncompromising  moral  repugnance  ?  Because  it  vxis  remote, 
abstract,  neutral,  because,  while  excluding  from  its  considera- 
tion every  aspect  of  human  life  but  the  economic,  and  deal- 
ing with  that  in  isolation,  it  came,  nevertheless,  though  not 
with  the  conscious  intention  of  its  author,  to  be  looked  upon 
and  quoted  as  a  complete  philosophy  of  social  and  indus- 
trial Hfe.  And  this  isolation,  tlm  artificial  separation  of 
elements,  carried  by  the  same  habit  of  mind  into  the 
explanation  of  economic  facts  themselves — this  separation 
it  is,  which  explains  the  persistent  criticism  of  many  of  the 
leading  theories  of  the  treatise.  The  moral  wickedness  of  { 
the  whole  tendency  of  Political  Economy,  and  the  intel-  ^ 
lectual  fallacies  of  the  theory  of  value,  have  been  denounced 
almost  in  the  same  breath,  and  for  precisely  the  same  / 
causa  ^ 

But  again,  we  may  ask,  why  should  a  treatise  so  destitute 
of  sympathy,  observation,  imagination,  even  literary  style — 
a  great  part  of  it  is  nothing  more  than  bald  di-jointed 
criticism  of  other  books — dealing  as  it  did  with  the  most 
interesting,  the  most  vital  of  human  affairs;  why  should 
such  a  treatise  as  this  dominate  the  minds  of  nearly  aU  the 
distinguished  men  of  a  distinguished  time  ?  Because,  I 
answer — though  no  one  answer  will  serve  as  a  complete 
explanation — of  its  marvellous  logical  power,  the  almost 
faultless  sequence  of  the  arguments.  Systems  are  strong 
notrnrpFoportion  to  the'accirracy  of  their  premisses,  but  to 
the  perfection  of  their  reasoning;  and  it  was  this  logical 
invulnerability  that  gave  to  tbe^  FrincipUs  of  Political 
Economy  its  instahtaneous~inffuence.  Ricardo  has  teen 
recently  "compared  to~^prnozay"and  what  was  said  of 
Spinoza  may  be  said  of  him :  grant  his  premisses  and  you 
must  grant  all.  The  contrast  in  the  case  of  Eicardo,  be-r 
tween  the  looseness  and  unreality  of  the  premisses  and  the'; 
closeness  and  vigour  of  the  argument,  is  a  most  curious  one. : 

For  a  complete  explanation,  we  must  push  our  investi- 
gation further.  We  have  seen  that  admiration  of  Pdcardo 
was   not  confined   to  any  one  class  or  school;   but,  un- 


140  EICARDO  AND 

doubtedly,  the  influence  of  his  book  was  increased  by  the 
fact  that  in  method  and  spirit  it  coincided  completely  with 
the  mental  habits  of  the  most  vigorous  and  active  thinkers 
of  that  age.  Indeed,  Eicardo  was  their  disciple.  'I  am 
the  spiritual  father  of  James  Mill,  James  Mill  is  the 
spiritual  father  of  Eicardo,  therefore  I  am  the  spiritual 
grandfather  of  Eicardo/  was  an  utterance  of  Bentham's; 
and  it  is  exactly  true.  James  Mill  exercised  over  Eicardo 
the  greatest  influence.  Eicardo's  disciple  in  Political 
Economy,  he  was  his  master  in  everything  else.  It  is 
probable  that  it  was  only  through  the  encouragement  of 
Mill  that  Eicardo,  by  nature  unambitious  and  diffident, 
resolved  to  undertake  the  composition  of  his  famous 
'jtreatise.  It  is  certain  that  it  was  by  Mill's  express 
^;exhortation  that  he  bought  his  seat  in  Parliament;  and 
Eicardo's  speeches  in  the  House  of  Commons  popularised — 
for  he  was  far  more  persuasive  and  lucid  as  a  speaker  than 
ias  a  writer — the  principles  of  his  treatise. 

Tiiough_  in  Parliament  only  four  years,  Eicardo  revolu- 
tionised opinion  there  on  economic  subjects.  'It  is  known,"* 
says  a  writer  a  few  months  after  his  death,  'how  signal 
a  change  has  taken  place  in  the  tone  of  the  House  of 
Commons,  on  subjects  of  Political  Economy,  during  his 
short  parliamentary  career.'  'It  was  only,'  said  Joseph 
Hume,  the  most  distinguished  disciple  of  Eicardo  in  Parlia- 
ment, 'by  the  advice  and  in  hopes  of  the  assistance  of  a 
distinguished  individual,  whose  recent  loss  the  kingdom 
has  to  deplore,'  that  he  (Hume)  called  attention  to  the 
subject  of  the  combination  laws.  'The  late  Mr.  Eicardo 
was  so  well  acquainted  with  every  branch  of  the  science  of 
Political  Economy,  formerly  and  until  he  had  thrown  light 
upon  it  so  ill  understood,  that  his  aid  in  such  a  question 
would  have  been  of  the  utmost  value.'  'Surprising  as  it 
may  appear,'  says  a  writer  in  the  Westminster  Bevie/u), '  it  is 
no  less  notorious,  that  up  to  the  year  1818,  the  science  of 
Political  Economy  was  scarcely  known  or  talked  of  beyond 
a  small  circle  of  philosophers,  and  that  legislation,  so  far 
from  being  in  conformity  with  its  principles,  was  daily 
receding  from  them  more  and  more.' 

Besides  the  influence  of  the  school  of  Bentham  on  politi- 


THE  OLD  POLITICAL  ECONOMY  141 

cal  thought,  and  Eicardo's  presence  in  Parliament,  we  may 
find  still  another  reason  for  the  magical  effect  of  liis  treatise 
in  the  circumstances  of  the  time.  He  lived  in  an  age  of 
economic  revolution  and  anarchy.  The  complications  of 
industrial  phenomena  were  such  as  to  bewilder  the  strong- 
est mind.  No  light  had  been  thrown  by  Adam  Smith  on 
those  vital  questions,  discussed  before  every  Parliamentary 
committee  on  industrial  distress,  as  to  the  relations  between 
rent,  profits,  wages,  and  price.  Adam  Smith  had  distinctly 
spoken  of  rent,  profits,  and  wages  as  the  causes  of  prices. 
Not  one  of  those  who  pored  over  piles  of  blue-books,  or 
spent  years  in  minute  industrious  observation  of  the  actual 
world,  had  offered  one  single  suggestion  for  the  solution  of 
these  problems.  The  ordinary  business  man  was  simply 
dazed  and  helpless.  He  thought  on  the  whole  that  a  rise 
or  fall  in  wages  was  the  cause  of  a  rise  or  fall  in  prices ; 
but  he  could  not  explain  himself,  and  was  not  sure.  '  Does 
a  diminution  in  the  prices  of  the  goods  generally  precede 
a  diminution  of  wages?'  asks  a  member  of  a  committee. 
'  It  has  been  both  ways,'  answers  the  manufacturer, '  for  I 
have  known  people  decrease  the  wages  before  there  was  a 
diminution ;  but  it  follows  the  moment  the  wages  are  de- 
creased the  goods  follow  immediately.'  ^ 

To  people  groping  in  this  darkness,  Ilicardo's  treatise, 
with  its  clear-cut  answers  to  their  chronic  difficulties,  was 
a  revelation  indeed.  But  Eicardo's  solution  of  the  problem, 
i.e.  that  the  prices  of  freely  produced  commodities  depend 
upon  cost  of  production,  measured  in  labour,  and  that 
wages,  profits,  and  rent  are  not  the  causes  but  the  results  of 
price;  this  solution  was  only  reached  by  making  certain 
audacious  assumptions  which  it  would  have  been  hardly 
possible  for  any  economist  before  his  time  to  make.  Adam 
Smith  lived  on  the  eve  of  an  industrial  revolution.  Eicardo 
lived  in  the  midst  of  it.  Assumptions  which  could  never 
have  occurred  to  Adam  Smith,  because  foreign  to  the  quiet 
world  he  lived  in^  a  world  of  restrictions  and  scarcely  percept- 
ible industrial  movement,  occurred  to  Eicardo  almost  as  a 
matter  of  course.  That  unceasing,  all-penetrating  competi- 
tion— that  going  to  and  fro  on  the  earth  in  search  of  gold — 

*  Committee  on  Woollen  Petitiona,  1808. 


143  RICARDO  AND 

that  rapid  migration  of  men  and  things,  the  premisses  of  all  his 
arguments,  were  but  the  exaggeration,  however  wild,  of  the 
actual  state  of  the  industrial  world  of  Ricardo's  time.  The 
steam-engine,  the  spinning-jenny,  the  power-loom,  had  torn 
up  the  population  by  the  roots ;  corporation  laws,  laws  of 
settlement,  acts  of  apprenticeship,  had  been  swept  away  by 
the  mere  stress  of  physical  circumstances ;  and  with  all  that 
visible  movement  of  vast  masses  of  people  before  his  eyes, 
with  that  ceaseless  tossing  and  eddying  of  the  liberated  in- 
dustrial stream  ever  before  him,  is  it  to  be  wondered  at  that, 
with  the  strong  native  bias  of  his  mind  already  in  this 
direction,  he  should  make  without  hesitation  that  postulate 
of  pure  competitionion  which  all  the  arguments  of  his 
treatise  depend  ?  It  was  this  assumption,  together  with  its 
corollaries,  which  enabled  him  to  pour  such  a  flood  of  light 
upon  the  chaotic  controversies  of  his  time,  and  to  appear  to 
his  contemporaries  like  the  revealer  of  a  new  gospel.  But 
it  was  this  assumption  also,  wrongly  understood,  which  has 
led  to  so  much  misconception;  which  has,  on  the  one 
hand,  brought  upon  Political  Economy  so  much  undeserved 
opprobrium,  and,  on  the  other,  has  led  economists  themselves 
into  so  many  mistakes. 

Ricardo  himself  never  realised  how  great  were  the  postu- 
lates he  was  assuming.     It  is  a  strange  but  indubitable  and 
!  most  important  fact  that  he  was  unconscious  of  the  char- 
!  acter  of  his  own  logical  method.     He  thought,  as  has  been 
;  recently  pointed  out,^  that  he  was  talking  of  actual  men  and 
1  things  when  he  was  in  fact  dealing  with  abstractions.     He 
makes  but  one  allusion  to  the  great  assumption  of  pure 
competition.      Of  his  other  assumptions,  such  as  private 
property,  perfect  mobility  of  labour,  perfect  knowledge  of 
wages  and  profits  at  all  times  and  in  all  places,  there  is  no 
trace  of  recognition  from  beginning  to  end  of  his  treatise. 
And  just  as  Ricardo  remained  unconscious  of  the  nature  of 
his  method,  so  he  never  seems  to  have  realised  the  scope 
and  effect  of  his  work.     His  intention  was  to  investigate 
certain  concrete  problems  which  bewildered  his  contempor- 
aries.    His  achievement  was  to  create  an  intensely  abstract 
science — Deductive  Political  Economy.     Of  the  influences 
*  Bagehot's  Economic  Studies,  p.  157. 


THE  OLD  POLITICAL  ECONOMY  143 

which  determined  Eicardo  to  adopt  the  method  of  purely 
abstract  reasoning,  the  intellectual  ascendency  obtained 
over  him  by  James  Mill  was  one  of  the  strongest.  The 
method  of  deduction  and  abstract  analysis  was  that  of  the 
whole  school  of  thinkers,  to  whom  he  was  so  closely  related 
— Bentham,  Mill,  Austin ;  and  it  is  significant  that  Sir  H. 
Maine,  who  has  applied  the  historical  method  with  so  much 
perseverance  to  the  legal  theories  of  Bentham  and  Austin, 
should  have  turned  aside  more  than  once  to  criticise 
Ricardo  from  the  same  point  of  view. 

But,  independently  of  this  influence,  it  is  evident  that 
deduction  was  natural  to  Eicardo's  mind-  The  splendid 
exhibition  of  logic  in  his  works  is  alone  sufficient  proof  of 
this,  even  if  it  were  not  possible  to  detect  signs  of  the  same 
tendency  in  his  early  love  of  mathematics,  and,  perhaps,  in 
the  extraordinary  rapidity  vdth  which  he  made  his  fortune 
on  the  Stock  Exchange.  Nor  is  it  surprising,  when  we  re- 
member his  want  of  early  education,  which  is  visible  in  the 
lack  of  style  and  arrangement  in  his  book,  that  Eicardo 
should  never  have  reflected  on  the  nature  of  the  premisses  on 
which  he  built.  His  powerful  mind,  concentrated  upon  the 
argument,  never  stopped  to  consider  the  world  which  the 
argument  implied, — that  world  of  gold-seeking  animals, 
stripped  of  every  human  affection,  for  ever  digging,  weaving, 
spinning,  watching  with  keen  undeceived  eyes  each  other's 
movements,  passing  incessantly  and  easily  from  place  to 
place  in  search  of  gain,  all  alert,  crafty,  mobile — that  world 
less  real  than  the  island  of  Lilliput,  which  never  has  had 
and  never  can  have  any  existence. 

A  logical  artifice  became  the  accepted  picture  of  the  real 
world.  Not  that  Eicardo  himself,  a  benevolent  and  kind- 
hearted  man,  could  have  wished  or  supposed,  had  he  asked 
himself  the  question,  that  the  world  of  his  treatise  actually 
was  the  world  he  lived  in ;  but  he  unconsciously  fell  into 
the  habit  of  regarding  laws,  which  were  true  only  of  that 
society  which  he  had  created  in  his  study  for  purposes  of 
analysis,  as  applicable  to  the  complex  society  really  existing 
around  him.  And  this  confusion  was  aggravated  by  some 
of  his  followers,  and  intensified  in  ignorant  popular  versions 
of  his   doctrines.      His   hard,   clear   delineation,   with   its 


144  ETCARDO  AND 

audacious  solutions  of  hitherto  insoluble  problems,  asserted 
itself  in  spite  of  protests.  It  was  laid  as  a  mask  over  the 
living  world,  and  hid  its  face. 

We  must  not  indeed  imagine  that,  rapid  and  irresistible 
as  was  the  influence  gained  by  Ricardo  over  the  minds  of 
his  contemporaries,  his  system  was  allowed  to  establish 
itself  without  objection  even  on  the  part  of  economists. 
Unavailing  protests  were  repeatedly  raised  by  Ricardo's 
greatest  rival  in  economic  study,  Malthus.  *  I  confess  to 
you,'  writes  Malthus  to  Mr.  Napier,  with  reference  to  his 
proposed  contribution  to  the  Encyclopaedia  Britannica,  '  that 
I  think  that  the  general  adoption  of  the  new  theories  of  my 
excellent  friend,  Mr.  Ricardo,  into  an  encyclopsedia,  while 
the  question  was  yet  siib  judice,  was  rather  premature.  The 
more  I  consider  the  subject,  the  more  I  feel  convinced  that 
the  main  part  of  his  structure  will  not  stand.'  ^  In  a  second 
letter  on  the  same  point  he  is  still  more  explicit.  *An 
article  of  the  kind  you  speak  of  on  Political  Economy, 
would,  I  think,  be  very  desirable ;  but  no  one  occurs  to  me 
at  this  moment  with  sufficient  name  and  sufficient  im- 
partiality to  do  the  subject  justice.  I  am  fully  aware  of  the 
merits  of  Mr.  M'CuUoch  and  Mr.  Mill,  and  have  a  great 
respect  for  them  both ;  but  I  certainly  am  of  opinion,  after 
much  and  repeated  consideration,  that  they  have  adopted  a 
theory  which  will  not  stand  the  test  of  experience.  It 
takes  a  partial  view  of  the  subject,  like  the  system  of  the 
French  economists ;  and,  like  that  system,  after  having 
drawn  into  its  vortex  a  great  number  of  very  clever  men,  it 
will  be  unable  to  support  itself  against  the  testimony  of 
obvious  facts,  and  the  weight  of  those  theories  which,  though 
less  simple  and  captivating,  are  more  just,  on  account  of 
their  embracing  more  of  the  causes  which  are  in  actual 
operation  in  all  economical  results.'  ^ 

In  these  sentences,  written  four  years  after  the  publica- 
tion of  the  first  edition  of  Ricardo's  work,  we  find  a  predic- 
tion, curiously  exact,  of  the  course  taken  by  Political 
Economy  in  England  for  the  last  fifty  years.  But  Malthus 
stood  almost  alone  in  England  in  his  opposition  to  Ricardo. 

^  Macvey  Napier's  Correspondence.  Letter  from  Malthus,  September 
27,  1821.  »  Ibid.     Letter  from  Malthus,  October  8,  1821. 


THE  OLD  POLITICAL  ECONOilY  145 

James  Mill  and  M'CuUoch  were  uncompromismg  disciples. 
'  I  think,'  writes  M'Culloch  to  Mr.  Napier,  in  allusion  to  the 
assertion  of  Malthas  that  the  new  theories  were  still  sub 
fudice,  *  I  think  the  Supplement  will  gain  credit  by  being 
among  the  first  publications  which  has  embodied  and  given 
circulation  to  the  new,  and,  notwithstanding  Mr.  Malthus's 
opinion,  I  will  add  con-ect,  theories  of  political  economy. 
Your  publication  was  not  intended  merely  to  give  a  view  of 
the  science  as  it  stood  forty-five  years  ago,  but  to  improve  it 
and  extend  its  boundaries.  It  is,  besides,  a  very  odd  error 
in  Mr.  Malthus  to  say  that  the  new  theories  are  all  sub 
judice.  He  has  himself  given  his  complete  and  cordial 
assent  to  the  theory  of  Eent,  which  is  the  most  important  of 
the  whole ;  and  the  rest  are  assented  to  by  Colonel  Torrens, 
Mr.  Mill,  Mr.  Tooke,  and  all  the  best  economists  in  the 
country.'  * 

It  is  true  that  M'Culloch,  in  later  days  of  humility,  some- 
what abated  the  confident  dogmatism  into  which  his  honest 
zeal  had  led  him.  *I  believe,'  he  says  to  Mr.  Napier,  'I 
was  a  little  too  fond  at  one  time  of  novel  opinions,  and 
defended  them  with  more  heat  and  pertinacity  than  they 
deserved ;  but  you  will  not  charge  me  with  anything  of  the 
sort  at  any  time  during  the  last  seven  years.' '  But  more 
than  seven  years  before  the  date  of  this  letter  M'Culloch  had 
expounded  the  new  theories  to  fashionable  audiences  oi 
young  "Whig  statesmen ;  *  and  at  the  time  when  he  wrote  it,v 
!Mis3  Martineau  was  enchanting  children  and  inspiriting 
discouraged  politicians  by  her  dramatic  representations  of 
Ricardo.  All  the  world  had  become  political  economists  of 
the  Ricardian  persuasion.  The  protests  of  Malthus  and  his 
able  successor,  Richard  Jones,  were  lost  in  the  tumult  of 
applause. 

The  unbounded  ascendency  of  Ricardo's  system  was  notl| 
greatly  modified  by  the  labours  of  his  principal  8uccessors,j 
They  did  indeed  recognise  clearly  enough  its  limitations 
If  Ricardo  himself  was  unconscious  of  the  logical  character 

^  Maevfy  Napitra  Correapondenee.     Letter  from  M'CQlloch,  Septem- 
ber 30,  18-'l. 
'  Ibid,     Letter  from  M'Culloch,  March  6,  1833. 
»  Ibid.     Letters  from  M'Calloch,  May  2,  18S4,  April  23,  1825. 

K 


U6  RIOARDO  AND 

of  his  method,  the  same  cannot  be  said  of  his  chief  disciples 
of  the  next  generation.  Both  Mill  and  Senior  state  with 
the  utmost  plainness  the  exact  character  of  their  abstract 
science,  and  the  assumptions  upon  which  its  conclusions  are 
true.  Mill  in  his  Logic,  published  in  1843,  and  in  his  essay 
on  the  Method  of  Political  Economy,  written  much  earlier, 
and  largely  quoted  in  the  Logic,  but  not  published  as  a 
whole  till  1844,  explains  the  nature  of  Ricardo's  method 
with  a  clearness  which  leaves  nothing  to  be  desired.  But 
what  both  Mill  and  Senior  ought  to  have  done  was  not 
merely  to  point  out  what  the  assumptions  were  which 
Ricardo  made,  but  to  ascertain  from  actual  observation  of 
the  industrial  world  they  lived  in  how  far  these  assumptions 
were  facts,  and  from  the  knowledge  thus  acquired,  to  state 
the  laws  of  prices,  profits,  wages,  rent,  in  the  actual  world. 

This  work  they  never  attempted.  Had  Mill  and  Senior 
completely  emancipated  themselves  from  the  influence  of 
their  master,  the  history  of  Political  Economy  in  England 
would  have  been  a  very  different  one.  Endless  misunder- 
standing and  hatred  would  have  been  avoided,  and  some 
great  problems  would  be  much  nearer  their  solution.  But 
it  was  not  to  be.  Ricardo's  brilliant  deductions  destroyed 
observation.  A  method  so  clear,  solutions  so  simple,  carried 
all  before  them.  '  Political  Economy,'  said  Senior, '  is  not 
greedy  of  facts ;  it  is  independent  of  facts.'  Mill,  it  is  true, 
recognises  the  opposition  to  Political  Economy  caused  by  its 
apparent  disregard  of  facts,  and  does  something  to  meet  it. 
'  These  sweeping  expressions,'  he  says,  speaking  of  the  un- 
qualified deductions  of  Political  Economy, '  puzzle  and  mis- 
lead, and  create  an  impression  unfavourable  to  Political 
Economy,  as  if  it  disregarded  the  evidence  of  facts.'  But  he 
retained  to  the  end  the  confidence  he  had  imbibed  from 
early  familiarity  with  the  method ;  and  though  he  often,  by 
a  painful  effort,  recognised  the  existence  of  facts  not  in- 
cluded in  his  premisses,  he  failed  to  see  their  importance. 

For  many  years  every  eflfort  made  by  economists  to  restore 
observation  to  their  science,  and  to  institute  a  new  method, 
met  with  little  encouragement  from  the  general  world.  The 
great  question  of  the  time  was  still  the  removal  of  restric- 
tions and  the  establishment  of  freedom  in  trade.    For  the 


THE  OLD  POLITICAL  ECONOMY  UT 

solution  of  this  problem  the  method  of  deduction  was 
adequate,  and  of  primary  importance.  All  the  most  forcible 
arguments  in  favour  of  industrial  freedom  are  deductions 
from  certain  familiar  facts  of  human  nature.  Cobden  on  the 
platform  was  as  deductive  as  Eicardo  in  the  study.  But 
after  1846  the  mission  of  the  deductive  method  was  fulfilled. 
Up  to  that  time  economists  had  seen  in  the  removal  of 
restrictions  the  solution  of  every  social  difiBculty.  After 
that  time  they  had  no  remedy  to  offer  for  the  difficulties 
which  yet  remained.  Political  Economy,  in  spite  of  Mill's 
great  work,  published  two  years  after  the  chief  triumph  of 
the  old  method,  became  barren.  And  it  was  worse  than 
barren.  Instead  of  a  healer  of  differences  it  became  a  sower 
of  discord.  Instead  of  an  instrument  of  social  union  it 
became  an  instrument  of  social  division.  It  might  go  on  its 
way  unshaken  by  denunciation  when  tearing  down  the  last 
remnants  of  obsolete  restrictions  imposed  in  the  interest  of 
a  class ;  it  could  not  remain  unshaken  by  such  denunciation 
when  opposing  the  imposition  of  new  restrictions  in  the 
interest  of  the  whole  peopla 

It  was  the  labour  question,  unsolved  by  that  removal  of 
restrictions  which  was  all  Deductive  Political  Economy  had 
to  offer,  that  revived  the  method  of  observation.  Political , 
Economy  was  transformed  by  the  working  classes.  The  press- 
ing desire  to  find  a  solution  of  problems  which  the  abstract 
science  treated  as  practically  insoluble,  drew  the  attention 
of  economists  to  neglected  facts.  Mr.  Thornton,  Professor 
Cairnes,  and  Professor  Walker  restored  observation  to  its 
place.  Mr.  Thornton  pointed  to  the  existence  of  reserved 
prices — a  fact  patent  in  every  newspaper ;  and,  together  with 
Professor  Walker,  overthrew  the  accepted  theory  of  wages. 
Professor  Cairnes  showed  the  bearing  of  the  existence  of 
non-competing  groups  of  workmen — a  fact  noticed  and  then 
neglected  by  Mill — on  the  theory  of  value.  Professor 
Walker  explained  the  function  of  the  employer  as  distinct 
from  the  capitalist  in  the  economy  of  industrial  life. 
The  step  which  might  have  been  taken  half  a  century  ago 
has  been  taken  at  last  in  the  past  decade,  and  Political 
Economy  bids  fair  to  bear  fruit  once  more.  Not  that  the 
deductive  method,  which  failed  so  lamentably  after  its  first 


148  RICARDO  AND 

triumplis,  will  be  discarded  as  useless.  It  will  take  its 
place  as  a  needful  instrument  of  investigation,  but  its  con- 
clusions will  be  generally  recognised  as  hypothetical.  Care 
will  be  taken  to  include  in  its  premisses  the  greatest  possible 
number  of  facts,  and  to  apply  its  results  with  the  utmost 
scrupulousness  to  existing  industrial  and  social  relations. 
It  will  no  longer  be  a  common  error  to  confuse  the  abstract 
science  of  Economics  with  the  real  science  of  human  life. 


II 

The  philosophic  assumptions  of  Ricardo — They  are  derived  from  Adam 
Smith — The  worship  of  individual  liberty — It  involves  freedom  of 
competition  and  removal  of  industrial  restrictions— The  flaw  in  this 
theory — It  is  confirmed  by  the  doctrine  of  the  identity  of  individual 
and  social  interests — Criticism  of  this  doctrine — The  idea  of  invari- 
able law — True  nature  of  economic  laws — Laws  and  precepts — The 
groat  charge  brought  against  Political  Economy — Its  truth  and 
its  falsehood. 

But  in  examining  the  system  of  Eicardo  and  the  causes 
alike  of  its  extraordinary  success,  and  the  deep  repugnance 
which  it  has  excited,  it  is  not  sufficient  to  consider  only  the 
nature  of  his  logical  method.  We  must  take  into  account 
also  the  general  philosophical  conceptions  which  underlie 
his  treatise.  Ricardo's  economic  assumptions  were  of  his 
own  making.  Not  so  his  philosophical  assumptions.  These 
were  derived  from  his  great  predecessor,  Adam  Smith,  whose 
intellectual  position  he  accepted  in  the  main  without  ques- 
tion. Two  conceptions  are  woven  into  every  argument  of 
the  Wealth  of  Nations — the  belief  in  the  supreme  value  of 
individual  liberty,  and  the  conviction  that  Man's  self-love  is 
God's  providence,  that  the  individual  in  pursuing  his  own 
interest  is  promoting  the  welfare  of  all  To  these  concep- 
tions there  is  not  a  single  allusion  in  Ricardo's  treatise,  but 
that  is  simply  because,  neither  a  theologian  nor  a  politician 
himself,  he  was  not  aware  of  the  political  and  theological 
elements  in  his  economic  inheritance.  Though  not  expressly 
acknowledged,  these  two  ideas  permeate  his  doctrine,  aa  they 
do  that  of  all  the  economists  of  the  old  school      The  first 


THE  OLD  POLITICAL  ECONOMY  149 

belief  is  too  familiar  to  need  illustration,  but  the  second, 
which  is  the  foundation  of  all  practical  precepts  of  the  old 
economists,  it  may  be  worth  while  once  more  to  exhibit 
in  its  most  unmistakable  shape.  '  Private  interest,'  writes 
James  Anderson,  the  Scotch  farmer  whose  theory  of  rent 
was  brought  to  light  by  his  laborious  countryman  M'Culloch, 
'is  in  this,  as  it  ought  to  be  in  every  case  in  well- 
regulated  society,  the  true  primum  mobiU,  and  the  great 
source  of  public  good,  which,  though  operating  unseen, 
never  ceases  one  moment  to  act  with  unabating  power,  if  it 
be  not  perverted  by  the  futile  regulations  of  some  short- 
sighted politician.'^  But  it  is  in  the  great  work  of  the 
clergyman  Malthus  that  the  opinion  takes  its  most  theo- 
logical form.  'By  this  wise  provision,'  he  says,  'ue.  by 
making  the  passion  of  self-love  beyond  comparison  stronger 
than  the  passion  of  benevolence,  the  more  ignorant  are  led 
to  pursue  the  general  happiness,  an  end  which  they  would 
have  totally  failed  to  attain  if  the  moving  principle  of  their 
conduct  had  been  benevolence.  Benevolence,  indeed,  as  the 
great  and  constant  source  of  action,  would  require  the  most 
perfect  knowledge  of  causes  and  efifects,  and  therefore  can 
only  be  the  attribute  of  the  Deity.  In  a  being  so  short- 
sighted as  man  it  would  lead  to  the  grossest  errora,  and 
soon  transform  the  fair  and  cultivated  soil  of  human  society 
into  a  dreary  scene  of  want  and  confusion.' '  This  is  the  | 
doctrine  which,  divested  of  its  theological  fervour  andl 
blended  with  the  political  doctrine  of  individual  liberty, 
constitutes  the  main  philosophical  assumption  of  Ricardo's 
treatise. 

It  is  necessary  to  consider  the  effect  of  these  ideas  upon 
the  attitude  of  the  economists,  and  the  reception  which  was 
accorded  to  their  doctrines.  And  first,  for  the  idea  of  the 
supreme  value  of  individual  liberty. 

It  was  as  the  gospel  of  industrial  freedom  that  the  Wealth 
of  Nations  obtained  its  magical  power.  The  civilised  world 
was   restless  with   dreams    of   political  emancipation;   it 

^  A  Comparaiive  Fieic  of  th«  Efftcts  of  Rent  and  of  Tythe  in  injlxuncing 
the  Price  of  Corny  1801.  In  Recreations  in  AffricuUure,  vol.  v.  (2nd  series, 
Tol.  i.)p.  408. 

»  Malthas,  SMtay  on  PopuIatioHj  1872  (7th  edition.  Appendix),  p.  492. 


150  EIOARDO  AND 

trembled  with  expectation  of  a  deliverance  to  come.  The 
principle  which  was  in  the  mind  of  every  eager  politician 
Adam  Smith  and  the  Physiocrats  applied  to  industry  and 
trade.  They  claimed  '  as  one  of  the  most  sacred  rights  of 
mankind,'  not  merely  liberty  of  thought  and  speech,  but 
liberty  of  production  and  exchange.  Personal,  political, 
and  industrial  liberty  were  for  them  but  parts  of  one  great 
system ;  and  if  they  dwelt  with  greater  emphasis  on  indus- 
trial liberty  it  was  because  they  saw  in  that  the  most 
certain  and  least  dangerous  remedy  for  the  evils  of  their 
time.  It  was  impossible,  however,  to  advocate  the  one 
without  giving  support  to  the  other ;  and  it  is  interesting 
to  find  Adam  Smith  pointed  to  in  the  House  of  Lords  as 
the  real  originator  of  the  '  French  Principles,'  against  which 
a  crusade  was  contemplated.  'With  respect  to  French 
principles,  as  they  have  been  denominated,'  said  the 
Marquis  of  Lansdowne,  three  years  after  Smith's  death, 
'  these  principles  have  been  exported  from  us  to  France, 
and  cannot  be  said  to  have  originated  among  the  people 
of  the  latter  country.  The  new  principles  of  government 
founded  on  the  abolition  of  the  old  feudal  system  were 
originally  propagated  among  us  by  the  Dean  of  Gloucester, 
Mr.  Tucker,  and  have  since  been  more  generally  inculcated 
by  Dr.  Adam  Smith  in  his  work  on  the  Wealth  of  Nations, 
which  has  been  recommended  as  a  book  necessary  for  the 
information  of  youth  by  Mr.  Dugald  Stewart  in  his  Elements 
of  the  Philosophy  of  the  Ruman  Mind.'  ^ 

Without  stopping  to  comment  on  this  curious  statement, 
we  may  remark  that  it  is  a  striking  evidence  of  the  impres- 
sion produced  on  a  cultivated  mind  by  Adam  Smith's  great 
work  as  a  treatise  of  political  philosophy.  Such  in  fact  it 
was,  as  we  know  from  Adam  Smith's  own  words,  the  state- 
ments of  his  pupil,  and  the  composition  of  the  work  itself. 
Whether  he  v/rites  as  a  pamphleteer  or  a  historian  ;  whether 
he  is  pursuing  a  grave  investigation  into  the  influence  of 
political  institutions  on  economic  progress,  or  dogging  tedi- 
ous and  confused  advocates  of  the  mercantile  system  through 
all  the  weary  windings  of  their  arguments;  whether  he  is 
engaged  in  learnrd  research,  fierce  denunciation,  or  dubious 
'  House  of  Lords,  February  1,  1793. 


THE  OLD  POLITICAL  ECONOMY  151 

refutation,  every  page  of  Adam  Smith's  writings  is  illumined 
by  one  great  passion,  the  passion  for  freedom.  This  was 
the  first  and  last  word  of  his  political  and  industrial  philo- 
sophy, as  it  was  the  first  and  last  word  of  the  political 
and  industrial  philosophy  of  the  age.  All  around  were  the 
signs  of  an  obsolete  system  of  restriction,  cramping  and 
choking  political  and  industrial  life.  Every  philosopher, 
every  enlightened  statesman,  every  enlightened  merchant 
saw  only  one  remedy.  Talking  with  Turgot  in  Paris,  or 
with  Cochran, '  one  of  the  sages  of  the  kingdom,'  in  Glasgow, 
Adam  Smith  found  the  same  echo  of  his  own  opinions. 
Turgot  in  Limousin,  Adam  Smith  in  Glasgow,  saw  in  a 
different  form  the  hateful  evils  of  the  ancient  system. 
Whilst  Turgot,  the  governor  of  a  province,  was  labouring 
day  and  night  to  improve  the  condition  of  down-trodden 
peasants,  Adam  Smith,  the  professor,  was  shielding  from 
the  effects  of  obsolete  privileges  the  greatest  mechanical 
genius  of  the  age.  Nothing  can  be  more  interesting  than 
that  story  of  James  "Watt,  refused  permission  to  practise 
his  trade  by  the  corporation  of  hammermen,  but  admitted 
by  the  professor  within  the  walls  of  the  University  of 
Glasgow,  and  allowed  there  to  set  up  his  workshop.  Thus 
in  Glasgow,  'a  perfect  bee-hive  of  industry,'  according  to 
Smollett,  where  people  were  fUled  'with  a  noble  spirit  of 
enterprise,'  where  commercial  and  intellectual  activity  went 
hand  in  hand — many  of  the  principal  writings  of  the  mer- 
cantile system  being  reprinted  there  whilst  Adam  Smith 
was  giving  his  lectures — and  in  Limousin,  the  oppressed 
and  poverty-stricken  French  province,  the  same  lesson 
was  being  forced  into  men's  minds — the  need  of  liberty ; 
and  at  the  same  time  great  mechanical  inventions  were 
preparing  the  way  for  a  new  age. 

The  Wealth  of  Nations  was  published  on  the  eve  of  an 
industrial  revolution.  When  Adam  Smith  talked  with 
James  Watt  in  his  workshop  at  Glasgow,  he  little  thought 
that  by  the  invention  of  the  steam-engine  Watt  would 
make  possible  the  realisation  of  that  freedom  which  Adam 
Smith  looked  upon  as  a  dream,  a  Utopia,  It  is  true  we 
see  traces  in  the  Wealth  of  Nations  of  the  great  changes 
that  were  everywhere  beginning,  but  the  England  described 


152  RIOAEDO  AND 

by  Adam  Smith  differed  more  from  the  England  of  to-day 
than  it  did  from  the  England  of  the  middle  ages.  The 
cotton  manufacture  is  mentioned  only  once  in  Smith's 
book.  The  staple  industries  of  the  country  were  still  wool, 
tanned  leather,  and  hardware,  while  silk  and  linen  came 
next  in  importance.  Iron  was  still  smelted  chiefly  by 
charcoal,  though  smelting  by  pit-coal  had  been  introduced. 
It  was  not,  however,  produced  in  such  quantities  as  to 
supply  the  greater  part  of  England's  demand;  much  was 
imported  from  America,  Eussia,  and  Sweden.  Wool  and 
silk  were  woven  and  spun  in  scattered  villages  by  families 
who  eked  out  their  subsistence  by  agriculture.  'Manu- 
facturer '  meant  not  the  owner  of  power- looms  and  steam- 
engines  and  factories,  buying  and  selling  in  the  markets  of 
the  world,  but  the  actual  weaver  at  his  loom,  the  actual 
spinner  at  her  wheel.  But  seven  years  before  the  publica- 
tion of  the  Wealth  of  Nations  Arkwright  had  patented  his 
water-frame  and  James  Watt  his  steam-engine.  A  few 
years  after  its  publication  Cartwright  invented  the  power- 
loom,  Crompton  the  mule.  It  was  by  these  discoveries  that 
population  was  drawn  out  of  cottages  in  distant  valleys  by 
secluded  streams  and  driven  together  into  factories  and 
cities.  Old  restrictions  became  obsolete  by  sheer  force  of 
necessity,  and  the  freedom  of  internal  trade  to  which 
England,  according  to  Adam  Smith,  owed  so  much,  was 
completed  under  conditions  which  Adam  Smith  could  not 
imagine. 

In  all  respects  but  one  the  internal  trade  of  England  in 
the  time  of  Adam  Smith  was  completely  free.  *  The  inland 
trade,'  he  says,  *  is  almost  perfectly  free.'  And  he  adds, 
'  this  freedom  of  interior  commerce  ...  is  perhaps  one  of 
the  principal  causes  of  the  prosperity  of  Great  Britain.' 
But  there  was  one  great  exception  to  this  general  freedom, 
and  that  was  the  position  of  labour,  which  was  entangled 
in  a  perfect  network  of  restrictions.  Combination  was 
illegal — a  strike  generally  ended  in  *  nothing  but  the 
punishment  or  ruin  of  the  ringleaders.'  Laws  of  settlement 
prevented  the  emigration  of  artisans  and  labourers.  '  There 
is  scarce  a  poor  man  in  England  of  forty  years  of  age,  I  will 
venture  to  say/  wrote  Adam  Smith, '  who  has  not  in  some 


THE  OLD  POLITICAL  ECONOMY  153 

part  of  his  life  felt  himself  most  cruelly  oppressed  by  this 
ill-contrived  law  of  settlement.'  Emigration  of  labourers 
was  forbidden  by  statute.  Corporation  laws  and  the  law  of 
apprenticeship  closed  innumerable  employments.  Adam 
Smith's  condemnation  of  these  restrictions  is  memorable: 
'  The  property  which  every  man  has  in  his  own  labour,  as  it 
is  the  originsd  foundation  of  all  other  property,  so  it  is  the 
most  sacred  and  inviolable.  The  patrimony  of  a  poor  man 
lies  in  the  strength  and  dexterity  of  his  hands,  and  to 
hinder  him  from  employing  this  strength  and  dexterity  in 
what  manner  he  thinks  proper,  without  injury  to  his  neigh- 
bour, is  a  plain  violation  of  this  most  sacred  property.' 
Equally  memorable  is  the  famous  edict  of  Turgot  for  the 
dissolution  of  the  Jurandes,  which  adopts  almost  the  same 
language :  '  God,  when  He  made  man  with  wants,  and 
rendered  labour  an  indispensable  resource,  made  the  right 
of  work  the  property  of  every  individual  in  the  world,  and 
this  property  is  the  first,  the  most  sacred,  and  the  most  im- 
prescriptible of  all  kinds  of  property.  We  regard  it  as  one 
of  the  first  duties  of  our  justice,  and  as  one  of  the  acts  most 
of  all  worthy  of  our  benevolence,  to  free  our  subjects  from 
every  infraction  of  that  inalienable  right  of  humanity.'  It 
is  correctly  stated  by  Malthus  that  Adam  Smith  mixes  up 
with  one  profound  subject  of  his  treatise  '  another  still  more 
interesting' — 'the  causes  which  affect  the  happiness  and 
comfort  of  the  lower  orders  of  society,  which  in  every 
nation  form  the  most  numerous  class.'  And  the  result  of 
his  investigation  was  the  demand  for  free  exchauge  of 
labour.  '  Break  down,'  he  writes, '  the  exclusive  privilege  of 
corporations,  and  repeal  the  statute  of  apprenticeship,  both 
which  are  real  encroachments  on  natural  liberty,  and  add  to 
these  the  repeal  of  the  law  of  settlement.'  This  was  his 
remedy  for  the  distress  of  the  mass  of  the  people. 

Now  it  is  not  the  doctrine  of  free  exchange  of  goods  that 
has  brought  political  economists  into  collision  with  the  feel- 
ings of  the  people — it  is  the  doctrine  of  free  exchange  of 
labour.  Yet  we  see  that  this  doctrine  was  first  popularised 
by  a  warm  champion  of  the  labourers  as  the  true  solution  of 
all  the  evils  of  their  state.  It  is  impossible  to  ascertain 
how  far  this  demand  for  the  abolition  of  corporation  and 


164  RICARDO  AND 

apprentice  laws  really  represented  the  opinions  of  the  work- 
men of  that  age.  Adam  Smith's  language  would  lead  us  to 
suppose  that  it  did.  But  whatever  may  have  been  their  wishes 
with  respect  to  the  removal  of  particular  restrictions  then, 
it  is  certain  that  this  doctrine  of  freedom  of  labour  has  since 
then  become  the  principal  weapon  against  the  methods  by 
which  the  labourers  have  sought  to  improve  their  condition. 
The  explanation  of  this  result  of  the  theory  of  industrial 
freedom  must  be  sought  in  the  latent  assumption  which 
made  it  possible  for  Adam  Smith  to  offer  it  as  a  complete 
solution  of  the  labour  question.  Had  he  attempted  to 
analyse  competition,  even  under  the  conditions  of  his  own 
time,  he  would  have  become  conscious  of  the  fatal  flaw  in 
his  doctrine.  He  would  have  discovered  that  what  he 
sought  to  establish  was  the  free  competition  of  equal  indus- 
trial units,  that  what  he  was  in  fact  helping  to  establish 
was  the  free  competition  of  unequul  industrial  units.  This 
was  the  disastrous  oversight.  Adam  Smith  believed  in  the 
natural  economic  equality  of  men.  That  being  so,  it  only 
needed  legal  equality  of  rights  and  all  would  go  well 
Liberty  was  to  him  the  gospel  of  salvation ;  he  could  not 
imagine  that  it  might  become  the  means  of  destruction — 
that  legal  liberty,  where  there  was  no  real  economic  inde- 
pendence, might  turn  to  the  disadvantage  of  the  workman. 
He  never  dreamed  that  Freedom,  the  instrument  by  which 
monopoly  was  to  be  destroyed,  might  become  the  means  of 
establishing  monopoly. 

It  is  true  that  Adam  Smith  saw  that  the  labourer  was 
not  a  match  for  his  employer  in  making  a  bargain,  that  he 
was  poorer,  weaker,  and  oppressed  by  the  law.  But  he  did 
not  on  that  account  recognise  the  necessity  of  combination. 
Misled  by  the  observation  that  all  obstacles  to  industry 
seemed  in  the  past  to  have  come  from  associations,  all  pro- 
gress from  individuals  —  an  observation  which  partly 
explains  the  indifference  of  the  early  economists  to  co- 
operation— he  distinctly  condemned  every  form  of  associa- 
Ition,  and  though  his  belief  in  the  limited  functions  of  the 
j  State  prevented  him  from  suggesting  that  the  State 
should  suppress  them,  he  was  of  opinion  that  it  should  at 
least  give  no  facilities  for  them.    As  soon,  however,  as  the 


THE  OLD  POLITICAL  ECONOMY  16B 

factory  system  was  established,  the  inequality  of  women 
and  children  in  their  struggle  with  employers  attracted  the 
attention  of  even  the  most  careless  observers  :  and,  attention 
once  drawn  to  this  circumstance,  it  was  not  long  before  the 
inequality  of  adult  men  was  also  brought  into  prominence.! 
The  recognition  of  the  first  resulted  in  the  Factory  Acts;; 
the  recognition  of  the  second  in  the  abolition  of  the ', 
combination  laws  and  the  acknowledgment  of  the  true 
function  of  trades-unions  in  the  settlement  of  wages. 

It  is  a  remarkable  fact  that  Hume,  who,  at  the  advice  of 
Eicardo,  proposed  the  repeal  of  the  combination  laws, 
though  quoting  Adam  Smith  in  favour  of  free-trade  in 
labour,  yet  based  his  argument  largely  on  the  inequality  of 
the  isolated  workman  in  making  his  bargain  with  his 
employer.  *  The  property  of  the  masters,'  he  said,  quoting 
a  particular  case,  'enabled  them  to  get  the  better  of  the 
men ;  who  were  at  last  obliged  to  come  in  unconditionally. 
When  they  did  this,  the  masters  punished  their  resistance 
in  a  very  decided  manner;  for  they  actually  deducted  the 
loss  they  had  sustained  by  this  cessation  of  labour  from  the 
amount  of  the  men's  wages,  the  men  being  obliged  to 
pay  at  the  rate  of  10  per  cent,  per  week  until  the  masters 
declared  themselves  satisfied.'  Again,  in  another  debate : 
'If  the  masters  combined  to  give  their  men  only  half 
a  sufiicient  rate  of  wages,  and  had  strength  enough  to 
starve  them  into  taking  it,  there  was  nothing  in  the  bill  to 
prevent  their  doing  so.  And  how  could  this  danger  be  met 
by  the  workmen,  except  by  counter-combination  ;  for  which, 
short  of  carrying  them  to  the  extent  of  violence,  he  still 
thought  they  ought  to  have  the  fullest  permission.'  This 
argument  of  Hume's  is  the  more  noticeable,  because,  nearly 
ten  years  afterwards,  in  a  debate  on  the  Factory  Acts,  he 
ignored  it  altogether.  He  could  see  the  force  of  the  argu- 
ment when  seeking  to  remove  old  restrictions  on  trade : 
he  could  not  see  it  when  seeking  to  resist  the  imposition  of 
new  restrictions  on  trade.  In  the  debate  on  the  Govern- 
ment Factory  Bill,  18th  August  1833,  he  declared  himself 
'  perfectly  satisfied  that  all  legislation  of  this  nature  is  per- 
nicious and  injurious  to  those  whom  it  is  intended  to 
protect ;  and  I  have  not  the  slightest  doubt  that,  if  this  bill 


166  RIOARDO  AND 

should  continue  in  operation  five  years,  it  will  have  pro- 
duced incalculable  mischief.  It  must  be  the  interest  of 
masters  to  protect  their  workmen ;  and  it  is  a  libel  upon 
human  nature  to  suppose  that  they  will  allow  persons  in 
their  employment  to  be  injured  for  the  want  of  due  caution.' 
A  changed  estimate  this  of  the  masters'  humanity  from  his 
estimate  nine  years  before. 

Very  different  from  Hume's  attitude  was  that  of  Michael 
Thomas  Sadler,  the  Tory  socialist,  who  attacked  the 
economists  in  the  House  of  Commons,  questioned  their 
infallibility  and,  as  his  followers  delighted  to  assert,  en- 
dangered their  ascendency.  Speaking  on  the  same  subject 
in  the  year  before,  Sadler  used  the  argument  which  Hume 
himself  had  once  employed  but  now  repudiated,  only  with 
much  greater  passion  and  significance.  Dealing  with  the 
expected  opposition  to  his  bill,  he  said :  *  I  apprehend  the 
strongest  objection  that  will  be  offered  on  this  occasion  will 
be  grounded  upon  the  pretence  that  the  very  principle  of 
the  bill  is  an  improper  interference  between  the  employer 
and  the  employed,  and  an  attempt  to  regulate  by  law  the 
market  of  labour.  Were  that  market  supplied  by  free 
agents,  properly  so  denominated,  I  should  fully  participate 
in  their  objections.  Theoretically,  indeed,  such  is  the  case ; 
but  practically,  I  fear  the  fact  is  far  otherwise,  even  regard- 
ing those  who  are  of  mature  age ;  and  the  boasted  freedom 
of  our  labourers  in  many  pursuits  will,  in  a  just  view  of 
their  condition,  be  found  to  be  little  more  than  nominal. 
Those  who  argue  the  question  on  mere  abstract  principles 
seem,  in  my  apprehension,  too  much  to  forget  the  condition 
of  society,  the  unequal  division  of  property,  or  rather  its 
total  monopoly  by  the  few,  leaving  the  many  nothing  what- 
ever but  what  they  can  obtain  by  their  daily  labour ;  which 
very  labour  cannot  become  available  for  the  purpose  of 
daily  subsistence  without  the  consent  of  those  who  own  the 
property  of  the  community,  all  the  materials,  elements,  call 
them  what  you  please,  on  v/hich  labour  is  bestowed,  being 
in  their  possession.  Hence  it  is  clear  that,  excepting  in  a 
state  of  things  where  the  demand  for  labour  fully  equals  the 
supply  (which  it  would  be  absurdly  false  to  say  exists  in 
this  country),  the  employer  and  the  employed  do  not  meet 


THE  OLD  POLITICAL  ECONOMY  157 

on  equal  terms  in  the  market  of  labour ;  on  the  contrary, 
the  latter,  whatever  his  age,  and  call  him  as  free  as  you 
please,  is  often  almost  entirely  at  the  mercy  of  the  former. 
He  would  be  wholly  so  were  it  not  for  the  operation  of  the 
poor  laws,  which  are  a  palpable  interference  with  the 
market  of  labour,  and  condemned  as  such  by  their 
opponents.'  ^  It  was  the  refusal  of  the  economists  to  recog- ' 
nise  this  truth — their  absolute  disregard  of  it — which  gave 
the  greatest  impulse  to  socialistic  speculation  in  England. 
Had  they  acknowledged,  instead  of  seeking  to  disprove,  the 
industrial  inequality  of  men,  the  epithets,  '  cruel,  inhuman, 
infant  killer,'  heaped  upon  them  would  have  been  spared, 
and  the  best  part  of  the  popular  repugnance  to  Political  j 
Economy  would  have  been  avoided.  i 

The  influence  of  a  recognition  of  the  economic  inequality 
of  men  on  our  estimate  of  competition  is  immense.  Not 
admitting,  with  the  socialist,  the  natural  right  of  all  men  to 
an  equal  share  in  the  benefits  of  civilisation,  not  proposing, 
with  the  socialist,  to  stamp  out  competition,  and  substitute 
a  community  of  goods,  we  yet  plead  for  the  right  of  all  to 
equal  opportunities  of  development,  according  to  their 
nature.  Competition  we  now  recognise  to  be  a  thing  neither 
good  nor  bad;  we  look  upon  it  as  resembling  a  great; 
physical  force  which  cannot  be  destroyed,  but  may  be  con- 
trolled and  modified.  As  the  cultivator  embanks  a  stream 
and  distributes  its  waters  to  irrigate  his  fields,  so  we  control 
competition  by  positive  laws  and  institutions.  These  we 
recognise  may  be  altered  and  reformed ;  a  better  economy  of 
competition  may  be  obtained,  and  better  results  may  be 
reached.  But  just  as  the  cultivator  knows  that  when  he 
has  obtained  the  best  system  of  irrigation,  he  must  have 
sunlight  and  rain  from  heaven  to  ripen  his  crops,  so  we 
know  that  when  we  have  done  our  best  with  competition, 
when  we  have  controlled  it  and  modified  it,  the  fullest  Ufe 
will  not  be  reached  without  the  action  of  religion  and 
morality.  The  old  economists  thought  competition  good  in 
itself.  The  socialists  think  it  an  evil  in  itself.  We  think 
it  neither  good  nor  evil,  but  seek  to  analyse  it,  and  ascertain 
when  it  produces  good  and  when  it  produces  bad  results. 
1  House  of  Conunons,  March  16,  1832. 


168  RIOARDO  AND 

The  old  economists  thought  competition  all-sufiQcient  to 
secure  the  welfare  of  mankind.  The  socialists  think  com- 
munity of  goods  and  equality  of  distribution  all-sufficient. 
We  accept  competition  as  one  means,  a  force  to  be  used,  not 
to  be  blindly  worshipped ;  but  assert  religion  and  morality 
to  be  the  necessary  conditions  of  attaining  human  welfare. 

The  conception  of  individual  liberty  in  Adam  Smith  was, 
however,  as  we  have  seen,  not  a  merely  negative  conception. 
It  had  a  positive  side,  and  received  substance  and  reality 
from  the  second  idea  already  referred  to — the  idea  of  the 
desire  of  the  individual  to  better  his  condition  as  the  main- 
spring of  progress,  of  the  identity  of  individual  and  social 
interests.  It  was  this  idea  which  lent  force  to  the  advocacy 
of  unrestricted  competition  and  absolute  freedom  of  con- 
tract, as  we  see  in  the  words  of  Hume  quoted  above.  It 
was  this  idea  which  made  the  economists,  in  the  first 
instance,  so  indifferent  to  association.  A  long  and  bitter 
experience  was  required  to  convince  them  of  the  in- 
sufficiency of  individual  effort  to  secure  the  general  good. 
Their  suspicion  of  trade  combinations  and  reluctant  admis- 
sion of  co-operation  as  a  social  remedy,  are  both  due  to  the 
same  cause. 

Closely  connected  with  this  idea  is  the  principle  of 
Laissez  Faire.  Undoubtedly  related  to  the  worship  of 
nature  —  that  great  reaction  of  the  eighteenth  century 
against  artificial  conditions  of  life — and  in  many  instances 
visibly  confirmed  by  experience,  this  doctrine  obtained  an 
extraordinary  hold  upon  the  minds  of  men.  It  became 
identified  with  Political  Economy  as  a  practical  science. 
Later  economists,  like  Mill  and  Cairnes,  have  indeed  modi- 
fied it :  but  just  as  the  belief  in  a  natural  or  divine  arrange- 
ment of  human  instincts  lent  power  to  it  at  first,  so  an 
elaborate  analogy  between  the  individual  and  social  organ- 
ism, which  is  the  latest  product  of  our  philosophy,  bids  fair 
to  give  fresh  power  to  it  in  our  own  days.  And  yet  this 
theory  of  the  sufficiency  of  individual  self-seeking  for  the 
salvation  of  the  race,  witli  its  practical  outcome  in  the  pre- 
cept of  Laissez  Faire,  includes  within  itself,  like  other 
generalisations  of  the  early  economists,  some  unwarrantable 
assumptions.      It   assumes    not    only    that   the   economic 


THE  OLD  POLITICAL  ECONOMY  159 

interest  of  the  individual  is  in  fact  identical  with  that  of  the 
community,  but  that  he  knows  his  own  interest  and  follows 
it.  But  it  is  perfectly  clear  that,  in  the  case  of  adulteration, 
of  jerry-building,  and  of  the  hundred  and  one  devices  of 
modern  trade  by  which  a  man  may  grow  rich  at  the  expense 
of  his  neighbours,  the  first  of  these  assumptions  breaks 
down.  "Whatever  may  be  the  case  with  his  higher  moral 
interests,  the  economic  interest  of  the  individual  is  certainly 
not  always  identical  with  that  of  the  community.  Neither 
can  it  be  said  that  he  always  even  knows  his  economic 
interest,  especially  under  the  complex  conditions  of  modem 
industry  and  commerce.  That  he  follows  his  interest,  or 
what  he  conceives  to  be  his  interest,  is  no  doubt  a  safer 
assumption,  though  even  this  truth  lacks  the  universality 
attributed  to  it  in  this  mechanical  conception  of  human 
action. 

The  whole  theory,  indeed,  of  the  identity  of  individual 
and  common  interests  is  a  perfect  instance  of  the  reckless 
abstractness  of  the  old  kind  of  Political  Economy.  There 
is  a  truth  underlying  it,  but  it  is  a  truth  which  the  theory 
overstates.  The  truth  in  question  is,  that  under  a  system 
of  division  of  labour  each  man  can  only  live  by  finding  out 
what  other  people  want.  The  pressure  of  competition  does 
undoubtedly  tend  to  the  satisfaction  of  the  greatest  number 
of  wants  at  the  lowest  cost,  but  not  without  innumerable 
evils  in  the  process — evils  which,  as  we  now  see,  the  wise 
regulation  of  the  competitive  impulse  may,  in  a  number  of 
instances,  avert  But  as  long  as  the  identity  of  the  indi- 
vidual and  general  interest  was  preached  as  a  universal 
truth,  every  attempt  to  regulate  competition  was  decried  as 
an  unwise  and  even  an  impious  interference  with  the  provi- 
dential scheme  for  making  each  man's  selfishness  sub- 
servient to  the  good  of  all  his  neighbours. 

Another  conception  which  strengthened  the  belief  in 
individual  liberty — the  mere  freedom  from  restrictions — as 
the  great  economic  truth,  was  the  idea  of  invariable  law. 
This  was  one  of  the  chief  bulwarks  of  Laissez  Faire.  It  is 
in  Malthus  that  the  idea  of  invariable  law  in  the  economic 
world  first  makes  its  appearance.  A  little  later  we  find  in 
Eicardo  the  first  instance  of  that  comparison  of  economic 


160  EICARDO  AND 

laws  to  the  law  of  gravity  which  has  been  echoed  with 
wearisome  iteration  ever  since.  Economists  have  failed  to 
distinguish  between  laws  of  physical  and  laws  of  social 
science.  They  have  refused  to  see  that  whilst  the  former 
are  inevitable  and  eternal,  the  latter — though  some  of  them 
too,  like  that  of  *  diminishing  returns,'  are  immutable — 
express,  for  the  most  part,  facts  of  human  nature,  which  is 
capable  of  modification  by  self-conscious  human  endeavour. 
It  must  be  admitted,  however,  that  this  idea  of  law  pro- 
duced one  great  effect.  It  made  men  patient — those  men  at 
least  who  believed  in  it.  To  this  fact  must  be  attributed 
the  singular  confidence  exhibited  by  economists  in  the 
result  of  teaching  Political  Economy  to  the  working  classes. 
Teach  them,  it  was  said,  that  the  rate  of  wages  is  not  the 
result  of  accidental  causes  within  the  control  of  man,  but  of 
great  natural  laws  beyond  his  control,  and  all  will  be  well. 
But,  so  far  from  having  the  desired  effect,  it  was  just  the 
insistence  on  this  doctrine  which  brought  Political  Economy 
;  into  conflict  with  the  working  classes.  The  wage-fund 
^theory,  of  which  Mai  thus  is  the  undoubted  author,  and  the 
consequent  denunciation  of  combinations  of  workmen  as 
useless,  was  the  great  cause  of  feud.  In  this  case  the  law, 
so  far  from  being  of  universal  validity,  was  not  true  at  all. 
This  is  now  generally  recognised.  But  the  popular 
expounders  of  economic  principles,  especially  in  the  news- 
papers, were  prompt  to  accept  it,  and  thus  Political  Economy 
\  entered  into  alliance  with  the  capitalists  against  the 
labourers. 

Bat  it  was  not  only  that  Political  Economy  asserted  th« 
existence  of  laws  that  did  not  exist.  More  misleading  still 
was  the  failure  of  ordinary  economic  writers  to  distinguish 
between  laws  and  precepts,  between  general  statements  of 
fact  and  the  practical  maxims  based  upon  them.  It  is  true 
that  writers  like  Cairnes  have  striven  to  make  it  clear  that 
the  laws  of  economics  are  as  distinct  as  possible  from  rules 
of  action,  that  Political  Economy  is  'neutral.'  But  they 
forget  that  the  laws  of  Political  Economy  are  converted 
into  rules  by  sheer  force  of  necessity,  and  that  the  mainten- 
ance of  this  neutrality  is  practically  impossible.  Some 
answer  must  be  given  to  the  pressing  questions  of  the  day. 


THE  OLD  POLITICAL  ECONOMY  161 

and  if  Political  Economy  did  not  lay  down  rules  and  become 
a  practical  science,  journalism  would  And,  as  a  matter  of 
fact,  while  affecting  the  reserved  and  serious  air  of  students, 
political  economists  have  all  the  time  been  found  brawling 
in  the  market-place. 

By  these  various  influences  acting  upon  them  from  so 
many  sides  was  the  belief  in  individual  freedom,  in  the  use- 
lessness  of  industrial  restrictions,  established  and  confirmed 
in  the  minds  of  the  older  economists  as  the  central  doctrine 
of  their  science.  But  it  was  just  this  doctrine  which  was 
the  chief  cause  of  the  fierce  antagonism  they  aroused.  If 
we  would  probe  to  the  bottom  the  cause  which  excited  the 
liveliest  invective  against  economists  we  always  come  back 
to  the  charge  of  individualism.  Of  that  continuous  storm 
of  denuuciation  which  has  been  poured  down  upon  the 
central  doctrine  of  liberalism,  the  economists  have  received 
the  largest  share.  And  this  is  natural ;  for  the  conception 
of  men,  not  as  members  of  families,  associations,  and  nations, 
but  as  isolated  individuals  connected  only  by  pecuniary  in- 
terests, is  essentially  the  conception  of  them  which  pervaded 
economic  science.  And  not  only  was  this  conception  the 
peculiar  characteristic  of  Political  Economy  as  a  theoretical 
science,  but  it  determined  its  whole  bearing  as  a  practical 
science.  I  have  alluded  to  the  fatal  confusion  between  laws 
and  precepts  which  made  Political  Economy  appear  as  the 
gospel  of  self-interest.  But  though  it  was  not  the  gospel  of 
self-interest  in  the  sense  often  supposed,  it  did  without 
doubt  place  absclute  reliance  on  individual  action ;  it  did 
without  doubt  practically  assert  that  pecuniary  interest  was 
a  sufficient  bond  between  men — the  primary  bond  at  any 
rate  in  the  present  age.  Xo  wonder,  then,  that  tigainst 
the  economists  were  arrayed  philosophers,  moralists,  even 
statesmen.  All  these  saw  in  the  doctrine  of  individualism 
a  solvent  of  domestic,  political  and  national  union — a  great 
disintegrating  element  of  social  life.  They  all  saw  in  the 
proclamation  of  the  reign  of  self-interest  the  universal 
abolition  of  feelings  of  kindliness  and  gratitude,  of  filial 
reverence  and  paternal  care,  of  political  fidelity  and  patriot- 
ism— in  short,  of  all  the  sentiments  which  welded  society 
into  a  whole.    Christian  ministers  lamented  the  decay  of 

L 


162  RICARDO  AND 

domestic  ties,  the  refusal  of  children  to  support  parents,  the 
neglect  of  parents  to  educate  children.  Moralists  deplored 
the  growing  alienation  of  masters  and  workmen — the  harsh 
self-seeking  of  the  employers,  the  indolence  and  hatred  of  the 
employed.  Statesmen  lamented  the  destruction  of  national 
life,  the  subordination  of  national  welfare  to  individual  gain, 
the  advocacy  of  measures  which  might  enrich  individuals, 
but  must,  they  thought,  disintegrate  the  empire.  'If  an 
empire  were  made  of  dust,'  said  Napoleon,  'it  would  be 
pounded  to  dust  by  the  economists.'  '  The  entire  tendency 
of  the  modern  or  Malthusian  Political  Economy  is  to  de- 
nationalise,' said  Coleridge.  '  At  the  very  outset,'  he  said  on 
another  occasion,  '  what  are  we  to  think  of  the  soundness  of 
this  modern  system  of  Political  Economy,  the  direct  tend- 
ency of  which  is  to  denationalise,  and  to  make  the  laws  of 
our  country  a  foolish  superstition  ? '  '  We  have  profoundly 
forgotten,'  wrote  Carlyle  some  years  later,  'that  cash-pay- 
ment is  not  the  sole  relation  of  human  beings ;  we  think, 
nothing  doubting,  that  it  absolves  and  liquidates  all  engage- 
ments to  man.  ..."  My  starving  workers  ? '  answers  the  rich 
millowner ;  "  did  not  I  hire  them  fairly  in  the  market  ?  did 
I  not  pay  them  to  the  last  sixpence  the  sum  covenanted 
for  ?  what  have  I  to  do  with  them  more  V"  '  Society/ 
writes  his  disciple  Mr.  Froude,  '  is  an  aggregate  of  dust.' 

Such  was  the  accusation.  Political  Economy,  it  was  said, 
destroyed  the  moral  and  political  relations  of  men,  and  dis- 
solved the  social  union.  It  is  remarkable  that  this  accusa- 
tion was  made  not  only  by  philosophers  and  moralists,  but 
by  politicians.  And  it  is  still  more  remarkable  that  the 
defects  of  Political  Economy  were  never  more  clearly  stated 
than  in  the  days  of  its  greatest  influence — in  the  golden  era 
of  economic  discussion  which  preceded  free-trade.  But  for 
all  the  force  with  which  the  accusation  was  urged,  the 
opponents  of  Political  Economy  were  defeated.  In  one 
memorable  point,  and  in  one  alone — the  regulation  of  fac- 
tories— were  they  successful.  In  their  general  attack  upon 
individualism  they  were  completely  beaten.  And  the  reason 
was  because  they  failed  to  see  that  the  old  economic  con- 
ditions had  to  be  destroyed  before  new  moral  relations  could 
come  into  existence.     Right  in   their  general  conception, 


THE  OLD  POLITICAL  ECONOMY  163 

they  were  wrong  in  their  particular  application  of  it.  For 
the  moral  relations  which  they  wished  to  preserve  were 
based  upon  the  dependence  of  the  labourer,  and  until  that 
dependence  was  destroyed  no  new  life  could  be  reached. 
The  historical  method,  the  great  enemy  of  the  old  Political 
Economy,  is  here  on  the  side  of  the  old  economists  against 
their  assailants.  For  it  shows  us  how  the  '  casli-nexus,' 
which  the  latter  denounced  so  vehemently,  is  essential  to 
the  independence  of  the  labourer.  And  that  indei)endence 
is  a  necessary  condition  of  the  new  and  higher  form  of  social 
union,  which  is  based  on  the  voluntary  association  of  free 
men.* 

The  historical  method  has  revolutionised  Political 
Economy,  not  by  showing  its  laws  to  be  false,  but  by  prov- 
ing that  they  are  relative  for  the  most  part  to  &  particular 
stage  of  civilisation.  This  destroys  their  character  as 
eternal  laws,  and  strips  them  of  much  of  their  force  and  aU 
their  sanctity.  In  this  way  the  historical  method  has 
rescued  us  from  intellectual  superstitions. 

•  •  •  •  •  • 

The  earlier  economists,  like  Adam  Smith,  were  concerned 
with  production.  Increased  production  was  necessary  for 
man  as  an  instrument  of  social  and  political  progress.  And 
the  old  economy  succeeded  in  establishing  new  conditions 
of  production.  But  when  it  came  to  the  more  delicate  task 
of  distribution  it  failed.  A  more  equitable  distribution  of 
wealth  is  now  demanded  and  required.  But  this  end  can 
only  be  attained  coincidently  with  moral  progress.  For 
such  an  end  a  gospel  of  life  is  needed,  and  the  old  Political 
Economy  had  none.  This  was  its  great  fault,  a  fault  which, 
now  its  work  is  done,  has  become  glaring  in  the  extreme. 
Such  a  gospel  must  now  be  put  forward,  or  all  that  work 
will  fail.  Morality  must  be  united  with  economics  as  a 
practical  science.  The  better  distribution  which  is  sought 
for  will  tlien  be  found  in  the  direction  of  (1)  a  modification 

1  At  this  point  the  consecutive  MSS.,  which  bears  traces  of  being 
hastily  written  in  the  preceding  paragraph,  breaks  off  altogether,  and 
tiicre  remain  only  some  fragmentary  passages  ■which  Toynbee  never  woye 
intD  the  thread  of  his  argument. — En. 


164  RICAEDO  AND  THE  OLD  POLITICAL  ECONO^f? 

of  the  idea  of  private  property  by  (a)  public  opinion  and  (b) 
legislation,  but  not  so  as  to  destroy  individualism,  which 
will  itself  be  modified  by  duty  and  the  love  of  man ;  (2) 
State  action  in  the  interest  of  the  whole  people ;  (3)  associa- 
tion not  only  of  producers  but  of  consumers. 


POPULAR    ADDRESSES 

1.  WAGES  AND  NATURAL  LAW. 
i  INDUSTRY  AND  DEMOCRACY. 
S.  ARE  RADICALS  SOCLAJJSTSf 


THE  EDUCATION  OF  CO-OPERATORS 


THE  IDEAL  RELATION  OF  CHURCH  AND  STATB. 


I 

WAGES  AND  NATURAL  LAW» 

When  I  was  invited  to  deliver  this  lecture,  anticipating 
that  my  audience  would  be  largely  composed  of  working 
men,  I  thought  I  could  not  do  better  than  try  to  dispel 
some  of  those  prejudices  which  working  men  in  the  past 
have  entertained,  and  still  to  some  extent  entertain,  towards 
Economic  Science.  I  do  not  mean  to  say  these  prejudices 
are  unjust.  On  the  contrary,  many  of  them  are  most  just, 
and  many  of  the  statements  made  by  economists  have  been 
not  only  false  in  the  abstract,  but  most  mischievous  from 
the  point  of  view  of  workpeople.  Perhaps  the  most  striking 
example  of  the  false  statements  made  by  economists  has 
been  their  assertions  with  regard  to  the  causes  which  deter- 
mine the  rate  of  wages — I  mean  those  assertions  which 
throw  ridicule  on  the  efforts  of  working  men,  by  means  of 
Trades-Unions  and  other  organisations,  to  improve  their 
condition.  Economists  have  said  that  Trades-Unions  were 
a  foolish,  and  perhaps  a  wicked,  resistance  to  the  inevitable 
laws  of  nature.  Political  economists  have  had,  on  this 
point,  to  make  a  great  recantation ;  and  my  desire  to-night 
is,  to  state  the  nature  of  that  recantation,  and  to  explain 
what  I  mean  by  natural  law  in  Political  Economy,  and  what 
the  causes  are  which  really  determine  the  condition  of  work- 
people. 

Perhaps  the  most  prominent  idea  of  the  present  age  is 
this  idea  of  natural  law.  If  you  look  back  into  the  begin- 
nings of  civilisation  you  will  find  that  the  idea  of  natural 
law  is  entirely  absent,  and  that  men  then  attributed  all 

*  A  lecture  given  at  the  Mcchanica'  Institute,  Bradford,  in  January 
18€0,  ai:d  repeated  in  part  at  Firth  College,  Sheffield,  in  February  1S82. 

167 


168  WAGES  AND  NATURAL  LAW 

things  to  will,  arbitrary  chance,  or  caprice.  But  after 
Newton's  great  discovery  of  the  law  of  gravitation,  two  or 
three  thinkers  began  to  trace  law  and  order  in  human 
society  also.  All  our  vast  fabric  of  civilisation,  all  our  arts, 
and  sciences,  and  literature,  which  seem  the  creation  of  the 
wilful  mind  of  man,  appeared  to  them  to  be  the  product 
of  law.  The  first  to  lay  hold  of  this  idea  clearly  were  the 
economists ;  Adam  Smith  it  was  who  first  insisted,  in  a  way 
understood  by  every  one,  on  the  presence  of  law  in  human 
society ;  and,  dealing  only  with  a  part  of  society,  he  estab- 
lished the  laws  which  determine  the  production  of  wealth. 
This  idea  of  law  in  human  society  was  a  great  discovery. 
We  have  not  come  to  the  end  of  it  yet ;  and  I  do  not  know 
what  revolution  it  may  not  yet  be  destined  to  efi'ect  in  our 
habits  of  thought  and  in  our  daily  action.  But  I  am  not 
now  going  to  deal  with  this  very  wide  subject ;  I  intend  to 
confine  myself  to  one  narrow  point — Are  the  laws  regarding 
the  distribution  of  wealth  as  laid  down  by  economists,  by 
Malthus,  Eicardo,  and  John  Stuart  Mill,  really  laws  of 
nature  in  the  same  sense  as  the  law  of  gravity  is  a  law  of 
nature  ? 

Now,  the  idea  of  law  as  applied  to  some  social  and 
economic  facts,  such  as  the  increase  in  the  number  of 
marriages  when  corn  is  cheap,  and  the  rise  that  takes  place 
in  the  price  of  cotton  when  there  is  a  short  supply  in  the 
market,  is  intelligible,  because  these  events  do  take  place 
with  a  sequence  almost  as  invariable  as  that  of  a  law  of 
nature ;  but,  as  you  will  see  presently,  the  idea  of  law  is 
also  applied  in  an  altogether  indefensible  way  to  the  influ- 
ences which  determine  the  distribution  of  wealth  among 
the  various  classes  of  the  community.  I  do  not  hesitate  to 
say  that  this  question  of  the  distribution  of  wealth  is  the 
greatest  question  of  our  time.  But  in  considering  to-night 
how  a  portion  of  the  wealth  of  the  nation  is  distributed, 
remember  that  we  are  not  considering  how  the  wealth  of 
the  nation  ought  to  be  distributed.  We  are  only  going  to 
investigate  the  so-called  laws  of  wages,  profits,  and  interest ; 
indeed,  it  is  obvious  that  the  way  in  which  wealth  is  now 
distributed  must  be  studied  before  we  can  apply  with  any 
effect  our  notions  of  how  it  ought  to  be  distributed.     We 


WAGES  AND  NATURAL  LAW  !«• 

have  to  explain  how  wealth  is  distributed  under  a  system 
of  private  property  and  of  division  of  employmenta,  how  it 
is  distributed,  in  fact,  in  England  at  the  present  time. 
Having  done  this  we  can  then  go  on,  if  we  choose,  to  frame 
practical  precepts  for  the  guidance  of  workmen  and  em- 
ployers under  existing  circumstances,  or  to  enable  them  to 
modify  these  circumstances,  if  they  think  fit,  and  establish 
a  new  method  of  distribution  for  the  future. 

Political  economy  has  a  twofold  character:  it  is  a 
theoretical  science  and  a  practical  science.  In  explaining 
how  wages  are  determined  under  the  existing  system  of 
society,  I  shall  have  to  exhibit  political  economy  as  a 
theoretical  science.  I  shall  say  nothing  as  to  whether 
this  system  of  society  is  or  is  not  right;  I  shall  simply 
endeavour  to  explain  how  wealth  is  distributed  under  exist- 
ing conditions  among  men  as  they  are  at  present  constituted. 
The  distinction  between  theoretical  and  practical  economics, 
which  is  a  very  important  one,  has  been  constantly  ne- 
glected, not  only  by  journalists,  but  by  employers  and 
working  men.  Because  the  laws  of  Political  Economy 
express  the  action  of  self-interest,  men  have  said  that 
Political  Economy  enjoins  men  to  value  their  self-interest 
to  the  disregard  of  their  humanity,  their  morality,  and  their 
religion.  That  is  not  true.  Political  Economy  as  a  practical 
science  bids  men  follow  their  own  self-interest  only  when 
it  promotes  the  good  of  the  community.  Political  Economy 
never  said  that  there  was  no  room  for  humanity  or  morality 
or  religion  in  the  world. 

I  will  show  you  by  three  illustrations  the  truth  of  what 
I  have  said  as  to  the  mistake  made  by  journalists,  working 
men,  and  employers,  as  to  the  nature  of  Political  Economy. 
In  the  first  place,  I  will  take  a  case  which  occurred  in 
Ajnerica.  In  the  great  labour  war  of  1877,  which  was 
followed  by  a  long  controversy  in  the  American  magazines 
and  newspapers,  Colonel  Scott,  the  manager  of  the  Penn- 
sylvanian  Eailway,  wrote  an  elaborate  defence  of  the  policy 
of  his  company  in  the  reduction  of  wages.  He  said :  *  We 
have  kept  in  our  employment  more  men  than  we  wanted, 
and  this  I  know  is  contrary  to  the  hard  rules  of  Political 
Economy' — as  if,  as    I    have    observed   before,  Political 


170  WAGES  AND  NATURAL  LAW 

Economy  bade  men  discard  humanity.  Again,  in  a  recent 
arbitration  question  the  representative  of  the  men,  in 
arguing  his  case  before  the  arbitrators,  said:  'If  in  1872 
we  had  followed  our  own  interest  on  the  true  principles  of 
Political  Economy,  then  our  wages  would  be  double  what 
they  are  at  the  present  time.'  There  again  that  man 
thought  that  because  the  laws  of  Political  Economy  ex- 
pressed the  action  of  self-interest,  therefore  the  political 
economist  enjoined  men  always  to  act  from  self-interest  and 
not  from  any  other  motive.  Lastly,  let  me  give  a  quotation 
from  the  Times.  In  a  leading  article  on  a  great  strike  the 
Times  said,  condemning  the  action  of  the  workmen :  '  It  is 
true  that  the  sternest  economist,  when  he  thinks  of  the 
sufferings  of  some  classes  of  labour,  gives  an  involuntary 
shudder.  He  involuntarily  wishes  the  laws  of  economy 
might  be  relaxed  in  favour  of  this  class  of  workmen.'  Did 
that  writer  suppose  that  the  laws  of  Political  Economy  were 
of  the  same  character  as  the  law  of  gravity,  that  they 
expressed  facts  which  were  unalterable  by  human  endeavour? 
He  did,  and  he  was  entirely  wrong.  In  1848,  many  years 
before  that  leading  article  was  written,  John  Mill  had 
shown  the  great  distinction  between  those  laws  of  Political 
Economy  which  are  true  laws  of  nature — true  as  the  law 
of  gravity  to  which  the  laws  of  Political  Economy  have 
been  compared  with  wearisome  iteration — and  those  laws 
of  Political  Economy  which  are  true  only  under  certain 
assumptions — that  is,  under  a  certain  existing  social  system 
which  is  alterable  by  human  endeavour;  under  existing 
human  passions  which  can  be  modified  in  the  progress  of 
civilisation  by  higher  passions  and  higher  ideals.  This  is 
what  I  wish  to  enforce  upon  you  before  proceeding  to  the 
immediate  subject  of  my  lecture — that  a  large  portion  of 
the  laws  of  Political  Economy  simply  express  the  action  of 
human  beings  as  they  are  at  present  constituted  under  the 
existing  system  of  law  and  social  institutions,  and  that 
though  we  cannot  expect  rapidly  or  completely  to  change 
the  nature  of  man,  the  nature  of  man  is  being  slowly  but 
surely  changed  by  the  progress  of  civilisation,  of  morality, 
and  of  religion,  and  therefore  if  a  man  alleges  in  his  behalf, 
when  he  has  done  an  inhumau  thing,  the  laws  of  Political 


WAGES  AND  NATURAL  LAW  171 

Economy,  he  is  discarded  altogether  by  all  the  economists 
of  the  most  recent  school. 

It  is  true  that  certain  economists  of  the  old  school,  misled 
by  the  influence  of  physical  science,  believed  that  the  law 
of  the  distribution  of  wealth,  the  law  of  wages,  was  an 
inevitable  and  eternal  law,  and  this  conception  gave  rise 
to  the  wage-fund  theory.  Though  John  Mill  distinctly  said 
the  laws  of  distribution  of  wealth  were  true  only  under 
existing  social  conditions  which  might  be  altered,  he  yet 
maintained  that  granting  these  conditions  the  law  of  wages 
was  inevitable  and  unalterable  by  human  endeavour,  and 
in  saying  this  he  undid  the  chief  benefit  of  his  treatise. 
It  was  not  until  a  late  period  of  his  life  that  he  gave  up 
this  theory;  in  1869,  he  publicly,  in  an  article  in  the  Fort- 
nigktly  Review,  confessed  that  he  had  been  wrong.  What 
economists  for  a  long  time  had  been  saying  to  working  men 
who  were  trying  by  combination  to  raise  their  wages,  was : 
'You  are  doing  a  very  foolish  thing.  You  might  as  well 
try  to  make  iron  swim  as  to  alter  the  rate  of  wages  by  your 
individual  wilL  The  rate  of  wages,  like  the  succession  of 
night  and  day,  is  independent  of  the  will  of  either  employer 
or  employed-  Neither  workmen  nor  employers  can  change 
the  rate  determined  by  competition  at  any  particular  time.' 
Such  an  assertion  as  this  was  not  only  made  in  text-books 
and  by  abstract  theorists,  but  it  was  made  by  journals  and 
by  members  of  Parliament.  Mr.  Roebuck  is  an  example. 
Mr.  Roebuck  was  in  his  own  way  a  great  friend  of  the 
working  man,  but  he  was  a  very  strict  political  economist 
of  the  old  school,  and  opposed  to  Trades-Unions.  Some 
of  you  may  remember  that  Mr.  Roebuck  was  a  member  of 
the  Trades- Union  Commission  in  1867,  and  examined  the 
leaders  of  the  Trades-Unions  adversely.  In  1847,  in  the 
course  of  the  great  debate  on  the  Ten  Hours'  Bill,  when 
the  country  gentlemen  eagerly  tried  to  avenge  themselves 
on  the  manufacturers  for  the  repeal  of  the  Corn  Laws, 
Mr.  Roebuck  took  the  side  of  the  manufacturers,  and  urged 
that  landowners  ought  to  look  at  home.  '  Think,'  he  said, 
'of  the  low  wages  you  are  paying  your  labourers;  don't 
be  always  insisting  upon  the  miserable  condition  of  the 
operatives  of  the  north.'     And  notice  how  he  went  on: 


172  WAGES  AND  NATURAL  LAW 

*  I  am  not  going  to  retort  upon  you  because  the  ■wages  which 
you  pay  your  workmen  are  low.  You  cannot,  I  know,  afford 
to  pay  more  wages  to  them.'  In  other  words,  Mr.  Roebuck 
meant  to  say  that  the  6s.  a  week  which  the  Wiltshire 
peasant  was  getting  at  that  time  was  the  result  of  an  inevit- 
able law  which  neither  landowner,  nor  farmer,  nor  labourer 
could  change.  But  though  the  wage-fund  theory  has  been 
given  up  by  economists,  it  is  extremely  difficult  to  frame 
another  theory  in  its  place  which  shall  explain  the  facts. 
The  facts  of  our  present  industrial  system  are  of  so  com- 
plicated a  nature  that  they  have  not  only  defied  the  attention 
of  economists  for  the  last  fifty  years,  but  they  have  deceived 
practical  men  who  have  given  to  them  not  only  the  time 
economists  have  given,  but  their  whole  lives.  This  is  the 
peculiar  difficulty  under  which  the  economist  lies.  The 
geologist  or  the  physicist  has  the  facts  of  the  physical  world 
before  him;  he  can  quietly  observe  them,  he  can  make 
experiments;  but  the  economist  has  to  deal  with  facts 
which  are  far  more  complicated,  which  are  obscured  by 
human  passions  and  interests,  and,  what  is  still  more  to  the 
point,  which  are  perpetually  in  motion. 

I  believe  the  wage-fund  theory  was  the  great  cause  of  the 
unpopularity  of  Political  Economy  among  working  men; 
first,  because  the  theory  contradicted  obvious  facts  known 
to  the  working  classes,  such  as  a  rise  of  wages  caused 
by  the  action  of  Trades-Unions;  secondly,  because  it 
strengthened  the  hands  of  the  employer  in  bargaining  with 
the  workman  by  bringing  public  opinion  to  bear  on  his  side, 
for  the  workmen  were  represented  as  kicking  against  an 
inevitable  law  of  nature;  and  thirdly,  because  it  affected 
to  place  an  immovable  barrier  to  the  improvement  of  the 
working  classes,  telling  thorn  that  there  was  only  one  escape 
for  them,  limitation  of  their  numbers — a  hard  saying.  But 
before  going  on  to  an  explanation  of  the  law  of  wages  as  it 
exists  at  the  present  time,  I  wish  to  state,  as  shortly  as  I 
can,  what  the  wage-fund  theory  really  was.  In  the  first 
place,  it  said  that  at  any  given  moment  the  rate  of  wages 
was  determined  by  causes  entirely  beyond  the  control  of 
the  employer  and  the  working  man.  It  said, '  Wages  are 
paid  from  past  accumulations  of  capital.    A  certain  portion 


WAGES  AND  NATURAL  LAW       173 

of  that  capital  is  put  aaids  by  the  employer  for  the  pay- 
ment of  wages.  That  portion  and  no  more  the  working  man 
can  get.  The  wages  question  is  a  question  of  saving  and 
not  of  bargaining.'  Therefore,  the  political  economist  con- 
demned Trades-Unions,  which  are  an  organised  attempt 
to  bargain  for  the  rate  of  wages;  therefore,  the  English 
political  economist  said  that  wages  were  a  question  of  popu- 
lation. He  said,  'The  only  way  for  the  working  man  to 
improve  his  condition  is  to  limit  his  numbers.'  He  looked 
upon  the  working  man  as  a  divisor,  and  not  as  a  multiplier. 
He  said,  '  The  working  man  cannot  increase  the  dividend, 
therefore  let  him  diminish  the  divisor.'  That  was  the  only 
hope  which  English  economists  for  fifty  years  held  out  to 
the  working  classes.  AU  the  endeavours  of  the  working 
classes  to  improve  their  condition  were  condemned  by  this 
theory,  and  therefore  it  was  that  the  working  man  said, 
*  If  Political  Economy  is  against  the  working  man,  it  be- 
hoves the  working  man  to  be  against  Political  Economy.' 

And  the  working  man  was  right.  The  economists  had 
made  a  vast  mistake,  but  there  were  certain  deceptive 
appearances  which  misled  them.  It  must  not  be  supposed 
that  because  they  made  a  mistake  about  the  most  important 
question  of  their  time,  these  men  were  either  blincUy  pre- 
judiced or  thoroughly  incapable.  They  were  deceived  by 
certain  facts  which  are  very  difi&cult  to  interpret.  Xhft  first 
fact  is,  that  though  wages  are  not  paid  out  of  capital,  they 
are  always  advanced  out  of  capital  The  next  fact  is  that 
though  the  rate  of  wages  is  not  determined  by  the  propor- 
tion of  food  capital  to  the  population  that  exists  at  a  given 
moment,  yet  the  existence  of  that  food  capital  is  a  necessary 
condition  of  the  employment  of  the  working  man;  and 
therefore  the  economist  said  that  it  formed  also  the  limit  to 
his  wages,  because  according  to  the  theory  of  population, 
wages  are  always  at  the  level  of  bare  subsistence.  During 
the  past  ten  years  economists  in  Germany,  in  America,  and 
in  England  have  been  busy  pointing  out  the  mistakes 
committed  by  the  old  school,  but  no  economist  has  yet 
succeeded  in  constructing  another  complete  theory  of  wages. 
The  fact  is,  that  no  simple  formula  or  phrase  can  cover  so 
complicated  a  set  of  facts,  and  the  most  I  can  do  this 


174  WAGES  AND  NATUEAL  LAW 

evening  is  to  explain  certain  leading  conditions  which 
determine  the  rate  of  wages.  I  shall  not  pretend  to  exhaust 
the  subject,  but  I  think  I  can  put  in  a  clear  way  the  most 
prominent  and  important  causes  affecting  wages  in  England 
at  the  present  time. 

In  order  to  render  my  statement  clear,  I  must  make 
certain  divisions.  These  divisions  will  be  necessarily 
artificial,  and  therefore  to  a  certain  extent  misleading,  but 
they  are  absolutely  essential  to  a  clear  exposition  of  my 
subject.  We  must  first  ask.  Why  are  wages  paid  at  all  ? 
and  secondly.  What  determines  the  real  wages  received  by 
the  working  man — that  is,  what  determines,  in  Adam 
Smith's  language,  *  the  amount  of  the  necessaries,  conveni- 
ences, and  luxuries  of  life  received  by  the  working  man  ? ' 
Now,  in  answering  the  first  question,  we  must  remember 
that  three  things  are  necessary  to  the  employment  of  the 
labourer.  (1.)  There  must  be  an  unsatisfied  want — that  is, 
there  must  be  a  demand  for  the  commodities  produced  by 
his  labour.  (2.)  There  must  be  what  we  may  call  'food 
capital ' ;  somebody  must  have  saved,  or  abstained  from  the 
consumption  of  so  much  food  and  clothing  as  is  absolutely 
indispensable  to  the  labourer  until  the  product  of  his  labour 
is  realised.  (3.)  The  labourer  must  find  an  employer,  some 
one  who  will  provide  the  capital,  manage  the  industry,  and 
undertake  to  satisfy  the  want  of  the  consumer.  The  function 
of  the  employer  in  the  modern  industrial  system  seems  to  have 
been  very  little  understood.  It  is  a  function  at  the  present 
time  of  enormous  importance.  The  employer  scrutinises  the 
natural  resources  of  the  country;  he  detects  new  possibilities ; 
he  creates  a  new  industry  out  of  the  waste  of  old  industries  ; 
he  gathers  together  men  in  factories  :  he  takes  the  whole  risk 
of  the  business ;  he  guarantees  the  wages  of  the  workmen, 
and  he  studies  the  wants  of  the  consumer.  He  must  know 
where  to  buy  his  raw  material ;  he  must  know  how  to  buy 
it  in  the  cheapest  market,  when  to  sell  his  goods,  and  when 
not  to  sell  them.  He  must  undertake  operations  which 
involve  relations  with  all  sorts  of  men,  not  only  in  his  own 
country  but  in  distant  countries.  Without  him  it  is 
absolutely  impossible,  as  long  as  the  present  industrial 
system  lasts,  for  the  workman  to  live.    Tliese  three  things, 


WAGES  AND  NATURAL  LAW  176 

then,  are  necessary  :  First  of  all,  demand  for  the  com- 
modities ;  secondly,  capitaI7~and,  thirdly,  the  employer.  If 
there  is  demand  for  a  certain  commodity,  and  if  there  is 
an  employer  who  will  advance  the  capital  and  take  the 
risk  of  satisfying  that  demand,  then  the  labourer  gets  em- 
ployment. Observe  that  if  the  capital,  the  labour,  and  the 
business  knowledge  and  enterprise  all  belonged  to  the  same 
man  there  would  be  no  question  of  distribution.  But  as  a 
fact  the  three  things  often  belong  to  three  sets  of  people, 
and  the  question  therefore  arises,  how  are  we  to  divide  the 
price  of  the  produce  ?  for  wages  are  paid  out  of  the  price 
of  the  produce.  This  brings  us  to  the  second  division  of  our 
subject 

When  the  labourer  is  employed,  what  determines  the 
amount  of  his  wages  ?  We  will  first  of  all  consider  the 
wages  question  as  a  question  of  production.  As  wages  are 
primarily  determined  by  the  amount  of  the  produce,  our 
first  business  is  to  inquire  what  determines  this  amount. 
Now,  the  amount  of  the  produce  depends  to  a  large  extent 
upon  the  efBciency  of  labour.  It  is  this  which  chiefly 
deteimiires  the  quantity  of  wealth  the  labourer  can  create. 
If  we  look  at  different  countries — at  America,  at  France,  at 
Germany,  at  Russia,  and  at  England,  we  shall  see  that  there 
are  dififerent  rates  of  wages  in  these  countries.  What  is 
the  main  cause  of  this  difference  in  the  rate  of  wages  ?  It 
is  the  difference  in  the  efficiency  of  labour,  as  well  as  in 
the  natural  resources  of  the  country.  Here  is  the  first 
great  hope  which  the  latest  analysis  of  the  wages  question 
opens  out  to  the  labourer.  It  shows  him  that  there  is 
another  mode  of  raising  his  wages  besides  limiting  his 
numbers.  He  can  increase  the  dividend  by  increasing  the 
amount  of  the  produce. 

Let  us  consider  for  a  moment  on  what  the  efficiency  of 
labour  depends.  First  of  cU  it  depends  on  the  physical 
strength  and  the  technical  skill  of  tlie"TaI)ourer.  Next;  it 
depends  upon  the  state  of  the  mechanical  arts,  on  the  kind 
of  machinery  with  which  the  labourer  has  to  work.  Next, 
it  may  be  said  to  depend  upon  climate.  A  climate  may  or 
may  not  be  like  that  of  England,  which  permits  continuous 
labour  and   stimulates    a  hardy   and   vigorous   existence. 


176  WAGES  AND  NATURAL  LAW 

Next,  it  depends  upon  the  foresight  and  skill  of  the 
employer  in  the  distribution  of  labour,  and  in  the  manage- 
ment of  the  economy  of  the  factory.  The  amount  of  the 
produce  is  affected  by  all  these  things.  Recently  many 
statistics  have  been  collected  in  order  to  show  the  different 
efficiency  of  labour  in  different  countries. 

I  shall  give  one  or  two  instances  to  illustrate  my  position. 
One  reason  why  wages  in  England  are  high  compared  with 
wages  on  the  Continent,  is  that  the  machinery  used  in 
England  is  more  efficient  than  that  used  on  the  Continent, 
and  that  the  physical  strength  and  skill  of  the  working 
man  here  enables  him  to  superintend  more  machinery  than 
the  working  man  on  the  Continent  is  able  to  superintend. 
You  may  say  that  machinery  is  an  injury  to  the  working 
man.  Well,  machinery,  like  many  other  things  in  the 
progress  of  mankind,  has  been  an  injury  to  certain  classes 
of  working  men.  If  a  man  has  got  a  special  aptitude  for 
a  special  occupation,  and  a  machine  is  invented  which 
displaces  him,  he  may  become  a  pauper.  That  raises  the 
question,  how  to  promote  industrial  progress  without  un- 
necessary suffering  to  the  individual — a  question  which  is 
too  wide  to  be  dealt  with  in  my  present  lecture.  But 
1  remember  that  machinery  has  also  had  a  great  effect  in 
\ raising  wages;  first  because  it  has  made  labour  more 
I  efficient,  and  the  labourer  thus  produces  more ;  and  secondly 
Ibecause  it  has  cheapened  commodities,  and  therefore  the 
labourer  can  buy  more.  You  have  probably  heard  of  the 
fcitter  complaints  of  American  manufacturers,  of  the  high 
wages  they  have  to  pay,  of  their  desperate  competition  with 
the  'pauper  labour'  of  Europe.  Now,  why  do  men  get 
high  wages  in  America?  Partly  for  the  very  reason  we 
are  considering,  because  workmen  produce  more  in  America 
than  in  other  countries,  for  labour-saving  machinery  has 
been  more  rapidly  invented  there  than  in  any  other  country. 
At  the  very  time  when  American  manufacturers  were  com- 
plaining of  the  competition  of  *  pauper  labour '  in  Europe,  it 
was  shown  that  in  the  American  hardware  industries,  in 
which  wages  were  double  as  high  as  they  were  in  England, 
America  was  underselling  other  countries  in  their  own 
markets.    Again,  take  the  coal  industry.    The  output  of  a 


WAGES  AND  NATUEAL  LAW       177 

single  collier  in  England  has  been  calculated  at  272  tons 
per  annum.  In  Belgium  it  is  185  tons.  This  is  due  to  a 
difference  of  physical  strength,  and  to  improved  mechanical 
appliances.  Sir  Thomas  Brassey  considers  that  though 
French  wages  are  twenty  per  cent  cheaper  than  English, 
yet  the  cost  of  making  iron  in  France  is  greater ;  this  is  due 
to  the  '  want  of  appliances  for  the  saving  of  labour.' 

Thus  far  we  have  seen  that  the  labourer  receives  wages 
according  to  the  amount  of  the  produce  of  his  labour.  We 
have  next  to  consider  the  price  for  which  that  produce  will 
sell.  Wages,  in  the  second  place,  depend  upon  the  price  of 
the  produce.  What  determines  the  price  of  a  manufactured 
commodity  is  a  very  complicated  question,  and  one  which 
has  very  much  exercised  the  minds  of  economists.  I  think 
it  is  possible  to  put  the  facts  pretty  simply  for  our  purpose. 
Commodities  may  be  divided  into  two  classes;  those  pro- 
duced under  free  competition,  and  those  produced  under 
monopoly.  The  price  of  commodities  produced  under  free 
competition  is  the  lowest  wliich  the  producers  will  work 
for ;  the  consumer  in  these  cases  has  his  wants  satisfied  at 
the  minimum  cost.  The  price  of  such  commodities  is  de- 
termined by  the  actual  cost  of  production ;  and  the  product 
is  sold  at  the  lowest  price  at  which  any  man  can  afford  to 
make  it.  If  it  fell  lower,  the  producer  would  throw  up  the 
business.  The  lock-trade,  for  instance,  is  not  carried  on 
like  most  trades  by  large  employers  of  labour  with  immense 
capital,  but  by  small  masters  employing  six  or  eight  appren- 
tices. The  competition  among  them  is  so  keen  that  the  price 
of  locks  is  reduced  to  the  lowest  point  Here  the  individual 
master  can  do  very  little  indeed  to  determine  the  price,  and 
the  individual  workman  can  do  very  little  to  determine 
the  price ;  it  is  decided  by  causes  beyond  the  control  of  the 
producer,  whether  he  is  an  employer  or  a  workman.  But 
with  regard  to  commodities  produced  under  a  monopoly, 
their  price  is  not  determined  by  cost  of  production,  but  by 
the  demand  of  the  consumer.  The  consumer  may  have  to 
pay  three  times  as  much  for  a  monopolised  commodity  as 
he  would  have  had  to  pay  had  it  been  produced  under  free 
competition,  and  the  end  of  the  satisfaction  of  all  wants  at 
the  minimum  cost  is  thus  defeated.     It  is  important  to  deal 

H 


178  WAGES  AND  NATUKAL  LAW 

thoroughly  with  this  question,  because  one  of  the  most  favourite 
proposals  at  the  present  time,  of  employers  in  America  and 
working  men  in  England,  is  a  limitation  of  production  in 
order  to  secure  a  rise  in  price,  and  therefore  a  rise  in  wages 
and  profits  ;  to  create,  in  fact,  a  monopoly  price.  But  in 
considering  this  question  we  must  keep  in  mind  what  is  our 
fundamental  aim — the  satisfaction  of  wants  at  the  minimum 
cost  of  life,  and  with  the  minimum  antagonism  of  interests. 
How  far  then  can  a  working  man  increase  his  wages — not 
merely  by  increasing  the  efficiency  of  his  labour,  and  thereby 
increasing  the  amount  of  his  produce,  but  by  getting  a 
higher  price  for  his  produce  ?  We  have  to  ask,  in  the  first 
place,  Can  he  do  it  ?  and,  in  the  next  place,  if  he  can  do  it. 
Is  it  a  policy  which  a  political  economist,  not  as  a  scientific 
man  analysing  facts,  but  as  a  teacher  framing  precepts  to 
guide  men's  actions,  would  recommend  ?  Now  there  is  no 
doubt  that  under  certain  circumstances  the  thing  can  be 
done.  It  can  be  done  by  limitation  in  production,  and  by 
combination  to  raise  wages — two  things  closely  connected. 
To  take  a  particular  industry :  supposing  that  the  colliers, 
or  the  cotton-spinners  and  weavers  of  Lancashire,  deter- 
mined to  limit  production  in  order  to  raise  their  wages,  it 
would  be  perfectly  possible  of  course  for  the  colliers  to 
insist  on  limiting  the  output  of  coal,  the  spinners  the  manu- 
facture of  cottons ;  but  remember,  unless  the  combination 
among  them  is  universal  it  will  not  be  successful.  Unless 
they  can  get,  not  merely  the  colliery  owners  of  any  parti- 
cular district  but  of  the  whole  country,  not  merely  the 
cotton-spinners  of  any  particular  district  but  of  the  whole 
country,  to  consent  to  that  limitation,  they  will  not  gain 
their  point.  Supposing  the  manufacturers  of  Lancashire 
limited  the  output,  and  other  manufacturers  refused  to  do 
so,  these  latter  would  get  the  hold  on  the  markets  which  the 
Lancashire  manufacturers  had  abandoned,  and  consequently, 
when  these  again  increased  their  production  they  would 
find  others  in  the  possession  of  the  market.  So  you  see  it 
is  not  ,an  easy  matter  to  raise  prices  by  limiting  production. 
I  do  not,  however,  condemn  such  a  policy,  when  it  can  be 
successfully  attempted,  if  followed  by  men  who  wish  for  a 
time  to  adapt  production  to  consumption.     A  temporary 


WAGES  AND  NATURAL  LAW  179 

limitation  of  production,  when  there  is  a  real  glut  of  goods 
in  the  market,  is  a  perfectly  legitimate  attempt  to  remedy  a 
defect  in  our  industrial  system.  But  this  is  quite  a  distinct 
thing  from  a  restriction  of  production  to  obtain  a  monopoly 
price ;  and  what  we  have  to  consider  at  the  present  time  is 
the  policy  of  attempting  to  limit  permanently  the  output  of 
a  particular  industry,  in  order  to  draw  into  the  hands  of 
the  producers  of  that  industry  a  larger  amount  of  the 
general  wealth. 

Now  this  object  can,  under  certain  circumstances,  be 
effected  by  a  combination  among  capitalist  employers — a 
common  enough  policy  in  America,  and  a  real  danger  of  the 
modem  industrial  system— or  by  a  combination  among  the 
men.  Supposing  what  has  been  attempted  by  the  employers 
in  America  had  really  succeeded,  that  what  are  called 
'rings'  had  been  formed,  and  that  such  rings  had  deter- 
mined to  tax  the  whole  body  of  consumers  for  their  own 
benefit,  the  result  of  course  would  have  been  a  small  gain 
to  themselves  at  the  expense  of  a  great  loss  to  the  whole 
people.  That  word  'consumer'  is  a  very  misleading  one. 
The  body  of  the  mere  consumers  in  England  is  a  small  one. 
Most  consumers  are  producers,  and  half  the  things  produced 
are  consumed  by  working  men.  If  a  particular  group  of 
working  men  and  employers  combine  to  raise  the  price  of 
their  own  products,  what  they  do  is  simply  this :  they  just 
draw  into  their  hands  a  larger  quantity  of  commodities 
produced  by  other  producers,  and  tax  the  whole  people  for 
their  oMm  benefit.  I  do  not  deny  that  such  a  policy  is 
feasible,  but  as  a  practical  political  economist  I  condemn  it. 
There  is  already  one  great  antagonism  of  interest — that 
between  employer  and  labourer — and  here  you  would  be 
creating  a  second  antagonism  of  interests  between  one  group 
of  producers  and  the  producers  of  the  whole  community, 
and  the  result  would  be  an  industrial  war  within  the  com- 
munity. This  would  be,  not  a  question  of  a  struggle 
between  two  classes  of  the  community  for  the  division  of 
legitimate  gains,  but  a  combination  of  two  classes  to  obtain 
illegitimate  gains  at  the  expense  of  the  whole  people. 

The  same  reasoning  applies  to  combinations,  not  of 
employers  aud  wurkmeu,  but  of  workmen  alone  to  raise  the 


180  WAGES  AND  NATURAL  LAW 

price  of  their  produce.  The  workmen,  of  a  given  district, 
being  all  powerful  owing  to  their  Trades-Union,  may  insist 
upon  a  rise  in  wages,  and  the  employer  may  grant  such  a 
rise,  and  try  to  throw  the  increased  cost  on  the  consumer. 
But  will  the  consumer  pay  the  higher  price  ?  That  is  the 
question.  He  will  certainly  pay  it  if  the  article  be  one 
which  he  cannot  do  vritJiout ;  but  what  is  then  the  result  ? 
He  has  less  to  spend  on  other  commodities ;  so  that  again 
one  group  of  working  men  gain  at  the  expense  of  all  other 
groups  of  working  men.  You  must  remember  it  is  the  con- 
sumer who  pays  wages  though  the  employer  advances  them. 
But  it  may  be  that  the  article  in  question  is  one  which  the 
consumer  can  do  without,  or  of  which  he  can,  at  any  rate, 
diminish  his  consumption.  In  that  case  it  is  probable  that 
the  rise  in  prices  will  lead  to  a  reduction  in  the  demand  for 
the  article,  and  thus,  though  the  rate  of  wages  among  the 
labourers  producing  the  article  has  risen,  they  may  be  none 
the  better  off,  because  the  amount  of  the  article  required, 
and  consequently  the  amount  of  their  employment,  will  be 
less.  The  only  effect  of  the  rise  of  price  would  thus  be 
to  diminish  the  production  of  some  necessary  or  convenient 
article. 

We  have  now  come  to  the  third  circumstance  which 
determines  the  rate  of  wages.  I  have  spoken  of  the  amount 
of  the  produce,  and  the  price  of  the  produce :  we  have  lastly 
to  consider  the  division  of  the  price  of  the  produce.  The 
price  of  the  produce  has  to  be  divided  into  three  parts ;  first, 
the  interest  on  capital ;  second,  what  is  called  by  Mill  '  the 
wages  of  superintendence,'  or,  to  use  the  language  of  a  more 
recent  economist,  'the  earnings  of  management';  and  third, 
the  wages  of  labour.  Over  the  first  we  need  not  linger. 
Whether  capital  is  borrowed  or  belongs  to  the  employer 
himself,  the  current  rate  of  interest  has  to  be  paid  on  it. 
The  hard  point  to  ascertain  is,  how  the  rest  of  the  price  is 
divided  between  the  employer  and  the  workman.  The  rate 
of  interest  is  ascertainable  enough,  but  the  rate  of  profits 
and  the  rate  of  wages  is  a  matter  of  continual  dispute.  You 
are  all  familiar  with  the  old  formula  of  supply  and  demand, 
but  I  shall  be  obliged  again  to  make  use  of  it.  As  a  fact, 
the  rate  of  profit — the  wages  of  management — and  the  rate 


WAGES  AND  NATURAL  LAW  181 

of  wages — the  leward  of  labour — are  determined  by  the 
famous  law  of  supply  and  demand,  that  dubious,  hateful, 
convenient  phrase.  Primarily  the  remuneration  of  the 
employer  is  determined  by  the  number  of  employers  com- 
pared with  the  demand  for  them,  the  remuneration  of  the 
labourer  is  determined  by  the  number  of  labourers  compared 
with  the  demand  for  them.  In  other  words,  the  rate  of 
wages  and  the  rate  of  what  I  will  call  profits,  as  dis- 
tinguished from  interest,  are  determined  by  the  comparative 
supply  of  employers  and  labourers.  You  all  remember  the 
famous  saying  of  Cobden's :  '  Wages  rise  when  two  masters 
run  after  one  workman ;  wages  fall  when  two  men  run  after 
one  master.' 

If  I  were  going  into  a  complete  investigation  of  the  sub- 
ject, I  should  have  to  inquire  into  all  the  causes  which 
determine  the  supply  of  employers,  and  all  the  causes  which 
determine  the  supply  of  labourers,  but  that  is  far  too  intri- 
cate a  question  for  me  to  enter  on  to-night  What  I 
wish  to  deal  with  is  this :  What  determines  the  actual 
bargains  made  between  employers  and  workmen,  assuming 
a  certain  state  of  supply  and  demand  ?  In  the  first  place 
let  us  ask  whether  there  is  a  minimum  rate  of  profit ;  that 
is,  a  rate  of  profit  on  less  than  which  the  employer  refuses 
to  carry  on  his  business.  In  all  the  discussions  which  you 
meet  with  in  the  newspapers,  and  in  books  written  by 
impartial,  fair-minded  men  like  Mr.  Brassey,  you  will  find 
it  constantly  said  that  the  employer  must  have  his  fair  rate 
of  profit  What  is  really  meant  by  the  word  '  fair '  ?  If 
you  will  look  into  it  closely  you  will  see  that  it  means  this : 
that  the  fair  n.te  of  profit  which  the  employer  must  have,  is 
that  rate  which,  if  he  does  not  obtain  in  his  own  particular 
industry,  he  can  obtain  either  by  moving  to  some  other 
locality,  or  by  moving  to  some  other  occupation.  There  are 
actual  instances  of  employers  doing  this.  You  know  that 
certain  trades  have  been  driven  from  certain  districts  by  the 
action  of  Trades-Unions,  which  have  refused  to  recognise 
that  there  is  this  minimum  rate  of  profit.  I  am  saying 
nothing  whatever  as  to  whether  the  employer  is  right  or 
not  in  insisting  on  this  rate  of  profit ;  all  I  say  is,  that  so 
long  as  human  nature  is  what  it  is,  so  long  as  employers  are 


182  WAGES  AND  NATURAL  LAW 

what  they  are,  so  long  will  they  insist  upon  this  rate  of 
profit  while  they  can  get  it.  But  this  fair  rate  of  profit  is 
not  a  fixed  quantity.  The  employer,  rather  than  throw  up 
his  business,  may  give  higher  wages,  and  the  workmen  get 
their  rise  in  wages  at  the  expense  of  the  employer.  The 
rate  is  not  a  fixed  rate.  Some  employers  will  be  content 
with  less  than  others,  but  remember  that  there  is  a  minimum 
rate  of  profit,  there  is  a  limit  to  the  rise  of  wages  at  the 
expense  of  the  employer. 

Now  let  us  turn  to  the  workman's  side  of  the  case.  Is 
there  a  minimum  rate  of  wages  ?  We  hear  almost  more 
about  fair  wages  than  we  hear  about  fair  profits.  Let  us 
try  to  see  what  meaning  can  be  given  to  the  term  *  fair,'  as 
applied  to  wages.  It  means  that  there  is  a  certain  rate  of 
wages  in  a  given  occupation  on  less  than  which  the  work- 
man refuses  to  carry  on  his  business.  He  says,  '  If  you 
won't  give  me  this  rate  of  wages,  I  can  move  to  another 
occupation  or  to  another  locality.'  The  workman's  power  of 
moving  to  another  occupation  depends  very  much  upon  his 
brains,  and  his  power  of  moving  to  another  locality  depends 
upon  the  knowledge  he  has  of  the  opportunities  in  other 
places.  He  may  either  migrate  from  one  part  of  England  to 
another,  or  he  may  leave  the  country  altogether ;  there  is 
thus  a  limit  to  a  rise  in  profits.  So  far  we  have  seen  the 
limits  to  wages  and  profits,  now  we  have  to  ascertain  what 
determines  the  division  of  that  part  of  the  price  which  lies 
between  these  two  limits. 

You  all  know  that  it  has  been  said,  I  suppose  a  hundred 
thousand  times  in  the  last  fifty  years,  that  the  wages  of 
labour  are  determined  by  the  demand  for  and  supply  of 
labour,  just  as  the  price  of  other  commodities  is  determined 
by  the  uemand  for  and  the  supply  of  those  commodities. 
This  is  what  the  newspapers  have  said  and  many  economists 
also ;  but  there  is  an  assumption  in  that  statement  which  is 
not  true.  The  writers  who  make  that  statement  assume 
that  the  market  for  labour  is  identical  in  character  with  the 
market  for  commodities.  Is  that  the  case  ?  The  most 
eminent  recent  economists  of  more  than  one  school  have 
denied  it.  They  have  shown  that  there  is  a  radical  differ- 
ence between  the  market  for  commodities  and  the  market 


WAGES  AND  NATURAL  LAW  183 

for  labour,  and  that  in  the  bargain  of  the  labourer  with  the 
employer  the  labourer  is,  as  an  isolated  individual,  under  a 
natural  disadvantage.  Eemember  that  in  the  market  for 
commodities  buyer  and  seller  meet  on  equal  terms.  They 
have  equal  knowledge,  and  probably — though  not  neces- 
sarily— equal  capital  They  can  hold  out  for  their  reserve 
price ;  and  if  the  merchant  or  the  manufacturer  cannot  sell 
his  commodities  in  one  market,  he  has  not  the  slightest 
difficulty  in  sending  them  to  another.  Further,  a  bargain 
about  a  bale  of  cotton  goods  does  not  convulse  the  industrial 
system,  but  the  bargain  about  the  price  of  labour  involves 
the  social  condition  of  a  whole  class.  In  order  to  place  the 
labourer  on  an  equality  with  the  employer  in  his  bargain 
lie  must  have  equal  knowledge  with  the  employer  of  the 
market  demand  for  employers  and  for  labourers.  But  it  is 
perfectly  obvious  that  the  employer  has  the  advantage  of 
the  labourer  in  point  of  knowledge.  He  knows  better  when 
to  strike  a  bargain  and  when  to  hold  out  It  is  a  fact  that 
a  few  years  ago  labourers  in  the  south  and  south-west  of 
England  had  never  heard  of  Lancashire  and  the  demand  for 
labour  which  existed  there. 

In  the  next  place,  in  order  that  employer  and  labourer 
may  bargain  on  equal  terms  they  must  both  have  a  reserve 
price — that  is,  equal  power  of  using  their  knowledge  of  the 
market.  The  isolated  labourer  is  very  much  in  the  position 
of  a  merchant  who  has  to  sell  without  being  able  to  hold 
out  for  his  price.  To  enable  the  labourer  to  hold  out  he 
must  have  capital.  He  must  be  able  to  say  to  the  employer, 
•  Very  well :  if  you  won't  give  me  my  price,  I  will  wait ' ; 
and  he  must  be  able  to  live  during  the  time  he  is  waiting. 
Trades-Unions  have  supplied  capital  to  the  labourer  and 
enabled  him  (as  far  as  regards  this  point)  to  approach  the 
employer  on  a  more  equal  footing.  The  employer  has  a 
large  capital;  so  has  the  Trades-Union,  and  the  two  are 
now  a  very  much  more  equal  match  than  in  the  old  times 
before  the  repeal  of  the  Combination  Laws  in  1824,  when  it 
was  illegal  for  the  labourers  to  combine  to  hold  out  for  their 
'reserve  price.'  But  again,  in  making  the  bargain  the 
employer  is  one  man  united ;  the  labourers  are  many  dis- 
united.    If  the  labourers  unite  in  a  Trades-Union  they  can 


184  WAGES  AND  NATURAL  LAW 

bargain  as  one  man  and  maintain  their  price.  This  is  a 
second  function  of  real  importance  which  Trades-Unions 
perform  in  the  bargain  between  employers  and  labourers ; 
they  enable  the  men  to  bargain  as  a  whole.  Again,  if  the 
employer  and  the  labourer  are  to  be  on  equal  terms  they 
must  have  equal  mobility — that  is,  an  equal  power  of  moving 
from  the  place  in  which  they  are  not  wanted,  to  a  place 
where  they  are  wanted.  Has  the  labourer  an  equal  mobility 
With  the  capitalist  employer  ?  No.  The  labourer  has  to 
contend  with  ignorance  of  other  localities,  and  with  local 
attachment  and  domestic  ties.  A  bale  of  cotton  goods  has 
no  domestic  ties,  has  no  local  attachment.  And  not  only 
can  an  employer  ship  his  goods  to  another  place,  but  he  can 
transport  his  business  power  and  his  capital  elsewhere, 
much  more  easily  than  the  labourer  can  his  labour.  In 
1870  a  large  cotton-spinner  in  Glasgow  took  his  capital 
and  established  a  factory  in  New  York.  Trades-Unions, 
however,  also  occasionally  send  workmen  from  place  to 
place. 

There  is  another  fact  which  I  wish  to  insist  upon.  If  two 
people  are  to  be  on  an  equal  footing  in  making  a  bargain, 
they  must  have  an  equal  indifference  to  each  other.  Is  the 
labourer  more  in  need  of  the  employer,  or  the  employer  of 
the  labourer  ?  If  the  labourers  are  obstinate  the  employers 
can  in  many  cases  introduce  fresh  machinery.  Some  of  the 
most  famous  machines  of  modern  times  have  been  intro- 
duced owing  to  strikes.  Nasmyth,  the  inventor  of  the 
steam-hammer,  introduced  machinery  in  1857  to  the  extent 
of  reducing  his  hands  one-half,  thereby  much  increasing  his 
profits.  I  believe  the  contractors  for  the  Tubular  Bridge  in 
1848  procured  the  invention  of  a  machine  for  punching 
holes  in  iron  plates,  and  thus  got  rid  of  men  who  had  been 
troublesome.  Have  labourers  yet  discovered  a  machine 
which  they  can  substitute  for  employers  ?  And,  again, 
employers  have  another  resource — the  introduction  of 
foreign  workmen.  You  have  never  heard  of  a  labourer  im- 
porting an  employer ;  it  is  not  the  labourer  who  imports  the 
employer,  but  the  employer  who  imports  the  labourer. 
Thus  the  employer  is,  in  many  ways,  more  necessary  to  the 
Ijibourer  than  the  labourer  to  the  employer.    The  employer, 


WAGES  AND  NATUKAL  LAW  185 

again,  may  even  refuse  to  use  the  commodity  which  the 
labourer  produces.  He  may,  for  instance,  substitute  con- 
crete for  stone,  and  so  get  rid  of  a  troublesome  bargainer. 

All  these  cases  show  that  there  is  a  real,  essential  differ- 
ence between  the  market  for  labour  and  the  market  for 
commodities.  I  am  not  stating  this  in  any  other  than  a 
perfectly  scientific  spirit.  It  represents  the  careful  analysis 
of  the  labour  market  by  impartial  men,  and  is  accepted  by 
economists  of  different  schools.  To  put  it  shortly,  we  have 
in  the  market  for  commodities  organised  competition  on 
equal  terms  and  no  social  question  involved ;  in  the  labour 
market  we  have  unorganised  competition  and  a  great  social 
question  involved;  and  the  statement  of  the  conditions 
necessary  to  assimilate  the  labour  market  to  the  goods 
market  is  seen  to  be  a  statement  of  the  labourers'  disadvan- 
tage. When  we  have  the  labourer  as  an  isolated  individual 
bargaining  with  the  employer,  this  is  unorganised  competi- 
tion on  unequal  terms ;  but  if  labourers,  instead  of  bargain- 
ing singly,  combine,  accumulate  capital,  and  bargain  with 
the  employer  as  one  man,  as  they  can  do  through  their 
Trades- Unions,  then  there  is  organised  competition  on  much 
more  equal  terms. 

Before  I  leave  the  subject  of  IVades-Unions  let  us  just 
consider  the  result  of  the  action  of  a  Union  supposing  it  to 
gain  a  direct  rise  in  wages.  A  rise  in  wages  may  be  a 
benefit  to  the  workman  without  being  any  real  loss  to  the 
employer ;  the  workman  may  be  more  efficient  owing  to  the 
rise  in  his  wages,  and  by  turning  out  a  larger  produce  may 
increase  both  wages  and  profits.  This  may  happen,  but  you 
must  also  remember  that  if  Trades-Unions  not  only  en- 
deavour to  organise  competition  but  attempt  likewise  to 
limit  competition,  that  is,  if  they  do  not  merely  combine  all 
the  labourers  in  a  given  industry  in  one  Union,  but  combine 
a  certain  number  of  labourers  and  exclude  others,  then  they 
may  get  into  difficulties,  because  if  the  combined  labourers 
succeed  in  getting  a  higher  rate  of  wages,  that  higher  rate 
will  attract  other  labourers  from  other  districts.  Now  this 
happened  as  a  fact  in  Glasgow  about  the  year  1834,  The 
wages  of  the  cotton-spinners  being  kept  up  by  their  Union, 
the  high  rate  attracted  outsiders,  and  the  Unionists  were 


186  WAGES  AND  NATURAL  LAW 

obliged  to  support  these  out  of  their  own  wages  in  order  to 
prevent  their  competition ! 

I  am  not  now  about  to  discuss  the  question  of  how  far 
Trades-Unions  can  solve  the  struggle  for  existence,  by 
limiting  competition  to  a  select  few.  But  I  should  like  to 
point  out  that  if  by  limiting  competition  the  Trades-Unionist 
diminishes  the  produce  of  labour,  in  the  end  he  defeats  his 
own  purpose,  for  one  of  the  primary  causes  of  higher  wages 
is  efficient  labour.  On  the  other  hand  the  action  of  Trades- 
Unions  in  organising  competition  has  been  perfectly  legiti- 
mate. They  have  organised  supply  where  supply  was 
unorganised,  they  have  got  rid  of  the  influences  of  custom, 
and  have  forced  employers  to  yield  them  a  higher  rate  of 
wages  where  employers  have  succeeded  in  getting  higher 
profits.  But  they  cannot  get  a  higher  rate  of  wages  than 
that  determined  by  organised  competition;  if  they  do, 
employers  will  withdraw  their  capital,  or  new  hands  will  be 
attracted  by  the  high  wages  into  the  trade.  Yet  we  see 
that  it  is  not  pure  and  simple  competition  in  the  market  of 
workmen  on  one  side  and  employers  on  the  other  which 
determines  the  rate  of  wages.  Given  the  same  number  of 
workmen  and  the  same  number  of  employers  under  different 
conditions,  and  a  different  rate  of  wages  would  ensue.  But 
I  wish  particularly  to  draw  your  attention  to  one  fact,  that 
owing  to  the  increased  organisation  of  employers  on  the 
one  hand,  and  labourers  on  the  other,  arbitration  and  con- 
ciliation are  becoming  increasingly  necessary.  The  struggle 
is  becoming  very  definite.  Vast  groups  of  labourers  are 
standing  face  to  face  with  groups  of  employers.  Both 
parties  are  beginning  to  see  the  true  nature  of  the  problem 
which  they  have  been  working  out  for  the  last  one  hundred 
years,  and  the  result  is  that  they  see  that  neither  can  win 
any  permanent  advantage  by  protracted  struggles.  They 
find  that  it  is  far  better  to  meet  in  council  and  discuss  the 
facts  of  their  business;  they  find  it  is  far  better  to  treat 
each  other,  not  as  natural  opponents,  but  as  merchants  treat 
each  other  on  the  exchange,  not  looking  upon  each  other  as 
determined  foes,  but  as  men  bargaining  with  a  definite  point 
at  issue,  a  point  which  can  be  ascertained  by  increased 
knowledge   on  tlie    part   of   the    labourer,   and    increased 


WAGES  AKD  NATUEAL  LAW  187 

willingness  to  take  the  labourer  into  his  counsels  on  the 
part  of  the  employer. 

But  I  have  not  exhausted  the  analysis  of  the  causes  which 
determine  the  rate  of  wages.  They  are  still  influenced  by 
custom,  by  Poor-Laws — a  bad  Poor-Law,  like  the  old  one 
in  England  before  1834,  may  distinctly  keep  wages  down 
— by  all  kinds  of  institutions  which  seem  but  remotely 
connected  with  the  labourer;  and  by  the  past  history  of 
the  nation.  Public  opinion  also  is  an  influence  of  great 
importanca  The  London  daily  press  in  times  past  has 
unhappily  been  nearly  always  against  the  workmen.  Dur- 
ing the  builders'  strike  in  1861,  the  Daily  TtUgraph  wrote: 
*It  has  been  settled  by  the  expression  of  public  opinion 
that  ten  hours  is  not  an  oppressive  day's  work  for  a  mason 
or  labourer ' ;  the  Standard  wrote :  '  "We  know  that  if  the 
masters  attempted  anything  harsh  or  unusual,  the  men 
would  have  public  opinion  with  them,  and  the  employers 
would  have  to  yield ' ;  the  Times  wrote :  '  They  will  not 
enlist  the  public  on  their  side,  and  without  the  public  they 
will  not  succeed  against  their  masters.'  The  power  of  public 
opinion  in  America  has  been  more  than  once  directly 
shown ;  a  Shoemakers'  Union  was  beaten  in  an  attempt  to 
obtain  exorbitant  wages  by  the  spirit  evinced  by  the  people 
generally  who  supported  Uie  employers  in  the  introduction 
of  Chinese  labour;  and  a  printers'  strike  in  Boston  was 
defeated  by  the  assistance  lent  to  the  publishers  by  the 
public,  even  a  judge,  it  is  said,  helping  to  set  type !  Happily 
public  opinion  exercises  a  considerable  influence  upon 
masters  as  well  as  upon  workmen.  I  am  not  now  referring 
to  honourable  employers,  but  to  men  who  unfortunately 
exist  in  every  trade,  whose  only  desire  is  to  make  money, 
and  who  are  only  too  anxious  to  get  it  out  of  the  weakness 
of  their  men.  The  action  of  this  class  of  employer  is  con- 
trolled, not  only  by  the  public  opinion  of  the  newspapers, 
but  by  the  pubHc  opinion  of  their  own  class.  Let  me  give 
an  example  of  this.  Mr.  Mundella,  who,  singularly  enough, 
W£is  examined  by  Mr.  Koebuck  before  the  Trades-Union 
Commission,  in  the  course  of  his  evidence  before  that  Com- 
mission on  the  truck  system  at  Nottingham,  said  that 
some  masters  in  his  trade  were  us  bad  as  they  could  be, 


188  WAGES  AND  NATURAL  LAW 

that  in  fact  their  conduct  almost  justified  the  violence  of 
the  men.  '  But,'  Mr.  Mundella  added  (he  was  then  speak- 
ing of  the  Board  of  Arbitration), '  since  we  have  got  our 
Board,  we  have  put  a  stop  to  their  exactions.'  In  other 
words,  the  public  opinion  of  the  workmen  and  the  em- 
ployers, expressed  through  the  Board  of  Arbitration,  had 
coerced  these  masters,  and  had  raised  the  wages  of  their  men, 
hitherto  robbed  by  payment  in  truck  instead  of  in  the  coin 
of  the  realm. 

I  have  said  enough  to  show  that  it  is  not  competition 
alone  that  determines  the  rate  of  wages,  that  Trades-Unions, 
that  custom,  that  law,  that  public  opinion,  that  the  character 
of  employers,  all  influence  wages;  that  their  rate  is  not 
governed  by  an  inexorable  law,  nor  determined  alone  by 
what  a  great  writer  once  called  *  the  brute  natural  accident 
of  supply  and  demand.*  As  a  matter  of  fact,  wages  are 
influenced  by  a  great  many  causes  which  are  only  too  apt 
to  escape  our  notice.  That  competition  in  England  and 
stUl  more  in  America  is  the  main  influence  no  one  denies. 
In  America  the  condition  of  the  workmen  is  extremely 
good,  and  this  is  distinctly  the  result  of  competition  joined 
to  the  accident  of  the  existence  in  the  western  states  of 
America  of  a  vast  extent  of  still  unoccupied  land.  Unless 
manufacturers  in  the  eastern  states  paid  their  men  the 
same  wages  as  they  can  earn  with  the  farmers  in  the  west, 
who  are  competing  for  their  labour,  or  which  they  can 
obtain  by  themselves  taking  up  unoccupied  land  and  culti- 
vating it,  they  would  find  that  they  were  without  hands. 
But  why  are  wages  in  England  only  one-half  of  what  they 
are  in  America?  Curiously  enough  the  land  has  a  great 
deal  to  do  with  it,  even  in  England,  though  in  the  opposite 
direction  to  its  influence  in  America.  From  causes  into 
which  I  cannot  go  now  labourers  have  in  this  country  been 
driven  ofif  the  land,  out  of  agricultural  districts  into  the 
towns,  where  they  compete  with  the  manufacturing  labourer, 
and  thus  depress  wages.  The  main  reason  why  wages  are 
lower  here  than  in  America,  is  because  there  are  more 
labourers  competing  in  the  labour  market.  I  admit,  and 
for  the  second  time,  that  competition  is  the  main  cause  of 
low  wages;  also  that  unless  we  can  modify  competition  by 


WAGES  AND  NATUEAL  LAW  189 

other  things,  the  condition  of  the  workmen  in  England  is 
not  likely  to  improve  at  any  very  great  pace ;  but  it  is  more 
important  to  recognise  that  competition  is  not  the  sole  cause 
than  to  recognise  that  it  is  the  main  cause. 

Wages  on  the  whole  have  risen  since  the  repeal  of  the 
corn-laws,  bread  has  been  cheaper  and  steadier  in  price, 
and  some  of  the  other  necessaries  of  life  more  plentiful ;  an 
enormous  emigration  has  also  relieved  the  labour  market. 
Socialists  say  all  this  is  nothing,  and  that  the  only  way 
permanently  to  improve  the  condition  of  working  men  is  to 
abolish  private  property,  and  get  rid  of  competition  entirely, 
substituting  in  their  place  collective  property  under  the 
control  of  the  State.  We  in  England  laugh  at  such  con- 
ceptions, but  if  we  are  able  to  laugh  at  them,  it  is  because 
we  have  here  institutions  like  Trades-Unions,  which  have 
enabled  working  men  to  hold  their  own  against  em- 
ployers, and  to  effect  a  considerable  improvement  in  their 
condition. 

But  taking  into  account  all  that  Trades-Unions  have 
done  and  can  do,  we  have  to  recognise  that  if  human  nature 
is  to  continue  to  be  as  it  is ;  that  if  employers  go  on  seek- 
ing to  obtain  the  highest  rate  of  profit  possible,  and  exert 
their  power  to  the  full,  workmen  will  find  it  extremely 
difi&cult  to  obtain  any  great  improvement  in  their  condition. 
But  human  nature  is  not  always  the  sama  It  slowly 
changes,  and  is  modified  by  higher  ideals  and  wider  and 
deeper  conceptions  of  justice.  Men  have  forgotten  that 
although  it  is  impossible  to  change  the  nature  of  a  stone  or 
a  rock,  human  nature  is  pliable,  and  pliable  above  all  to 
nobler  ideas,  and  to  a  truer  sense  of  justice.  We  have  no 
reason  to  suppose  that  human  nature  as  it  is  now  will 
always  remain  the  same.  We  have  reason,  on  the  other 
hand,  to  suppose  that  employers  under  the  influence  of 
the  wider  and  deeper  conceptions  of  which  I  have  spoken, 
may  be  willing  to  forgo  in  the  struggle  for  the  division  of 
wealth,  some  part  of  that  share  which  would  come  to  them 
if  they  chose  to  exert  their  force  without  restraint.  It  may 
be  said:  'This  is  chimerical;  human  nature  will  be  the 
same,  and  always  has  been  the  same.'  This  I  deny,  and  I 
instance  that  great  change  of  opinion  which  took  place  in 


190  WAGES  AND  NATURAL  LAW 

England  with  regard  to  slavery.  If  such  a  rapid  change 
could  take  place  in  our  moral  ideas  within  the  last  hundred 
years,  do  not  you  think  it  possible  that  in  the  course  of 
another  hundred  years  English  employers  and  English 
workmen  may  act  upon  higher  notions  of  duty  and  higher 
conceptions  of  citizenship  than  they  do  now  ?  I  am  not 
speaking  to  employers  alone.  The  matter  is  as  much  in  the 
hands  of  the  workman  as  it  is  in  the  hands  of  the  employer. 
It  is  not  merely  a  question  of  the  distribution  of  wealth ;  it 
is  a  question  of  the  right  use  of  wealth.  You  know  only 
too  well  that  many  working  men  do  not  know  how  to  use 
the  wages  which  they  have  at  the  present  time.  You  know, 
too,  that  an  increase  of  wages  often  means  an  increase  of 
crime.  If  working  men  are  to  expect  their  employers  to 
act  with  larger  notions  of  equity  in  their  dealings  in  the 
labour  market,  it  is  at  least  rational  that  employers  should 
expect  that  workmen  shall  set  about  reforming  their  own 
domestic  life.  It  is  at  least  reasonable  that  they  should 
demand  that  working  men  shall  combine  to  put  down 
drunkenness  and  brutal  sports.  High  wages  are  not  an  end 
in  themselves.  No  one  wants  high  wages  in  order  that 
working  men  may  indulge  in  mere  sensual  gratification. 
We  want  higher  wages  in  order  that  an  improved  material 
condition,  with  less  of  anxiety  and  less  uncertainty  as  to 
the  future,  may  enable  the  working  man  to  enter  on  a 
purer  and  more  worthy  life.  So  far  from  high  wages  being 
an  end  in  themselves,  we  desire  them  for  the  workman  just 
in  order  that  he  may  be  delivered  from  that  engrossing  care 
for  every  shilling  and  every  penny  which  engenders  a  base 
materialism.  Therefore  in  dealing  with  the  subject  of 
wages,  I  do  not  hesitate  to  insist  that  you  cannot  separate 
it  from  the  whole  question  of  life. 

I  shall  be  content  if  I  have  succeeded  in  showing  that 
the  question  is  within  the  power  of  human  will  to  deter- 
mine ;  that  man  need  not  crouch  and  shiver,  as  he  did  in 
the  past,  under  the  shadow  of  an  inexorable  law ;  but  that 
human  will  may  largely  modify  human  fate  for  good  or  ill. 
If  also  I  have  achieved  a  still  more  humble  purpose ;  if  I 
have  shown  working  men  that  they  should  study  economic 
science  if  they  would  understand  within  what  limits  they 


WAGES  AND  NATURAL  LAW  191 

can  raise  wages  under  present  social  conditions,  and  taking 
human  beings  as  they  are — if  I  have  succeeded  in  doing 
this,  then  also  I  shall  be  content. 

In  conclusion,  I  would  entreat  working  men  to  believe 
that  Political  Economy  is  no  longer  an  instrument  for  the 
aggrandisement  of  the  rich  and  the  impoverishment  of  the 
poor ;  that  in  as  far  as  it  is  a  science  at  all,  it  endeavours  to 
explain  the  laws  by  which  wealth  is  produced  and  distri- 
buted by  men,  as  they  are  at  present  constituted  under  the 
existing  institutions  of  society ;  that,  as  a  theoretical  science, 
it  pronounces  no  judgment  on  these  laws,  nor  on  the  conduct 
of  labourers  and  employers ;  but  that  as  a  practical  science, 
it  does  frame  precepts,  not  in  the  interests  of  the  employers 
alone,  not  in  the  interests  of  the  workmen  alone,  but  in  the 
interests  of  the  whole  people. 


192  INDUSTRY  AND  DEMOCRACY 


II 

INDUSTRY  AND  DEMOCRACY  i 

I  FEEL  that  some  explanation  is  due  from  me  to  those  who 
are  assembled  here  to-night,  of  my  claim  to  deal  with  the 
subject  I  have  chosen.  It  is  a  difficult  subject,  and  seems 
to  belong  to  the  politician  and  the  practical  man.  I  am 
neither ;  I  am  simply  a  student — a  student  who  has 
stepped  outside  his  usual  sphere  to  handle  a  question  which 
seems  to  raise  issues  beyond  the  power  of  a  student  to 
appreciate.  And  yet  I  am  content  to  rest  my  claim  to 
address  you  to-night,  on  the  fact  that  I  am  a  student,  be- 
cause in  that  capacity  I  have,  I  believe,  certain  qualifica- 
tions not  possessed  in  an  equal  degree  by  the  politician  and 
man  of  business.  The  student  will  not— at  any  rate  at  first 
— be  suspected  of  class  prejudice  or  political  prejudice. 
This,  I  think,  is  a  strong  point,  when  we  consider  the 
delicacy  of  the  question  and  its  social  importance.  But 
there  is  a  stronger  point  still  in  favour  of  the  student :  he 
is  not  only  free  from  prejudice,  he  is  able  to  take  those 

^  Thi3  Address  was  delivered  in  the  earlier  part  of  1881,  to  audiences 
of  working  men  at  Newcastle,  Chelsea,  Bradford  (where  employers  also 
were  present),  and  Bolton.  It  is  tho  only  one  of  the  addresses  printed 
in  this  volume  which  was  prepared  for  publication  by  Toynbeo  himself. 
A  note  in  his  own  hand,  which  he  wrote  as  a  preface  to  the  Address, 
says  :  '  With  the  exception  of  one  or  two  passages,  this  Address  was 
not  written  out  till  after  it  was  spoken,  but  it  is,  I  believe,  here  printed 
substantially  as  it  was  delivered.  It  has  not  been  thought  necessary  to 
give  authorities  for  the  facts  mentioned  ;  but  it  may  be  as  well  to  state 
that  tho  line  of  argument  pursued  is  to  be  found,  with  variations,  in  Mr. 
Crompton's  book  on  Industrial  Conciliation  (to  which  I  would  refer  all 
who  are  interested  in  that  subject)  ;  in  Brentano's  Essay, Z^as  Arbeitsver-  ■ 
hdltniss  gemdsn  clem  heutigen  JRecht ;  and  in  Mr.  Lushington's  essay 
published  in  the  volume  entitled  Questions  for  a  Reformed  Parliament. 
The  treatment  of  the  subject  is  necessarily  incomplete,  and  it  is  intended 
to  deal  with  some  of  tho  points  omitted  in  a  second  address,  "Socialism 
and  Democracy."  '     Tbia  second  address  was  never  written. — Ed. 


INDUSTRY  AND  DEMOCRACY  193 

wide,  connected  views  of  things  which  are  often  to  the 
politician  and  practical  man  impossible.  They  live  in  the 
world,  are  immersed  in  its  cares,  distracted  by  its  cries — are 
in  the  arena  carrying  on  the  struggle.  The  student  lives 
retired,  watches  the  world  from  afar,  and  discerns  many 
things  unnoticed  by  those  who  are  too  often  borne  along  in 
the  tumult  they  seek  to  guide.  From  his  watch-tower  he 
looks  before  and  after,  pursues  with  diligent  eye  the  reced- 
ing past,  and  with  anxious  expectation  forecasts  the  future. 

You  must  not,  however,  suppose  that  I  am  describing 
the  student  as  a  person  of  finer  powers  than  the  statesman ; 
I  am  describing  not  his  powers  but  his  position,  and  on  the 
advantages  of  that  position  I  insist,  because  I  believe  it  to  be 
one  of  peculiar  value  at  the  present  time.  Owing  to  causes 
obvious  to  all,  politicians  have  become  less  and  less  the 
leaders  and  teachers,  and  more  and  more  the  instruments  of 
the  people.  I  pass  no  judgment  on  the  fact ;  I  state  it 
simply  to  show  the  necessity  for  the  intervention  in  political 
and  social  affairs  of  a  new  order  of  men,  who  may  indeed  be 
enrolled  as  members  of  this  party  or  that,  but  who  shall 
not  suffer  party  connections  or  personal  aims  to  hamper 
them  in  the  elucidation  of  the  questions  which  it  is  the 
function  of  politicians  to  settle.  Is  it  quite  impossible  to 
conceive  of  such  men  ? — of  men  who  shall  be  as  students 
impartial,  as  citizens  passionate  ? 

I  propose  to-night  to  apply  a  familiar  philosophical  con- 
ception to  the  interpretation  of  a  particular  industrial 
problem.  The  conception  I  mean  is  that  of  a  law  of  pro- 
gress— of  a  certain  definite  order  in  human  development 
which  cannot  be  ignored  or  pushed  aside.  I  shall  try  to 
show  what  light  is  thrown  by  our  knowledge  of  this  law  on 
the  relations  between  employers  and  workmen ;  and  when 
you  have  listened  to  me,  I  venture  to  hope  you  wiU  have 
received  some  little  help  towards  an  understanding  of  the 
problems  which  perplex  the  present  and  make  the  future 
dark  with  menace. 

I  have  called  my  subject  '  Industry  and  Democracy.'  By 
*  industry '  I  mean  '  the  life  and  affairs  of  employers  and 
workmen ' ;  by  democracy,  '  government  of  the  people  by 
the  people.'    The  relations  between  industry  and  democracy 

N 


194  INDUSTRY  AND  DEMOCRACY 

are  innumerable;  I  shall  deal  with  only  one  of  them.  I 
intend  to  trace  shortly  the  industrial  history  of  the  last 
century  and  a  quarter,  and  to  show  how  democracy  has 
contributed  to  the  solution  of  the  problems  presented  by 
industrial  change.  I  shall  also  incidentally  show  how  the 
growth  of  industry  has  stimulated  the  growth  of  democracy ; 
for  in  human  affairs  no  event  is  single. 

I  must  ask  you  to  transport  yourselves  in  imagination  to 
England  as  it  was  a  century  and  a  quarter  ago.  We  are 
accustomed  to  think  that,  however  the  life  of  man  may 
alter,  the  earth  on  which  he  moves  must  remain  the  same. 
But  here  the  revolutions  in  man's  life  have  stamped  them- 
selves upon  the  face  of  nature.  The  great  landmarks,  the 
mountain  ranges,  the  river  channels,  the  inlets  and  estuaries, 
are  for  the  most  part  unaltered ;  nothing  else  remains  the 
same.  For  desolate  moors  and  fens,  for  vast  tracts  of  un- 
enclosed pasturage  and  masses  of  woodland,  we  have  now 
corn-fields  and  orchards,  and  crowded  cities  with  their 
canopies  of  smoke.  Only  a  few  years  before  the  time  of 
which  I  speak,  men  complained  that  half  the  country  was 
waste.  To-day  we  have  a  struggle  to  preserve  any  open 
land  at  all. 

It  is  to  a  revolution  in  three  industries,  agriculture, 
cotton,  and  iron,  that  this  transformation  is  principally  due. 
The  stupendous  advances  in  manufactures  towards  the  close 
of  the  last  century,  with  which  we  are  all  familiar,  have  a 
little  overshadowed  the  simultaneous  and  parallel  changes 
in  agriculture.  Yet  these  were  of  equal  importance.  In 
the  middle  of  the  last  century  farms  were  small  and  the 
method  of  cultivation  primitive.  The  old  system  of  common 
cultivation  was  still  to  be  seen  at  work  in  a  large  number 
of  parishes  in  the  Midland  counties.  Rotation  of  crops  was 
only  imperfectly  understood ;  the  practice  of  growing  winter 
roots  and  artificial  grasses  was  only  slowly  spreading.  '  As 
for  the  sheep,'  said  an  old  Norfolk  shepherd,  speaking  of  a 
still  more  recent  period,  'they  hadn't  such  food  provided 
for  them  as  they  have  now.  In  winter  there  was  little  to 
eat  except  what  God  Almighty  sent  for  them,  and  when  the 
enow  was  deep  on  the  ground  they  ate  the  ling  or  died  off.' 
I  am  tempted  to  give  many  more  details  in  illustration  of 


INDUSTRY  AND  DEMOCRACY       195 

the  state  of  agriculture,  but  I  cannot  spare  the  time.  Let 
us  turn  to  the  condition  of  manufactures.  The  cotton 
industry,  which  now  supports  more  than  half  a  million  of 
persons,  was  then  oppressed  by  Parliament  as  a  possible 
rival  to  older  industries,  and  was  too  insignificant  to  be 
mentioned  more  than  once,  and  then  incidentally,  by  Adam 
Smith  in  the  great  book  which  contains  so  full  and  accurate 
a  description  of  the  England  of  his  time.  The  iron  industry, 
with  which  the  material  greatness  of  England  has  during 
the  present  century  been  so  conspicuously  associated,  was 
gradually  dying  out.  Much  of  the  ore  was  still  smelted  by 
charcoal  in  small  furnaces  blown  by  leather  bellows  worked 
by  oxen.  And  it  was  not  a  trade  upon  which  the  nation 
looked  with  complacency  or  pride.  On  the  contrary,  it  had 
long  been  denounced  by  patriots  as  the  voracious  ravager  of 
the  woods  which  furnished  timber  for  our  warships,  and 
pamphleteers  demanded  that  we  should  import  all  our  iron 
from  America,  where  vast  forests  still  remained  to  be  cleared 
in  the  interests  of  agriculture.  Not  cotton  and  iron,  but 
wool  was  considered,  in  those  days,  the  great  pillar  of 
national  prosperity.  There  were  few  people  who  doubted 
but  that  the  ruin  of  England  would  follow  the  decay  of  this 
cherished  industry,  and  it  was  only  philosophers  like 
Bishop  Berkeley  who,  going  very  deep  into  matters,  ventured 
to  ask  whether  other  countries  had  not  flourished  without 
the  woollen  trade. 

To  show  you  the  external  conditions  of  industrial  life  in 
the  middle  of  the  last  century,  I  cannot,  I  think,  do  better 
than  give  a  short  description  of  the  way  in  which  wool  was 
manufactured  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Leeds — a  description 
drawn  from  a  singularly  full  and  interesting  account  con- 
tained in  the  evidence  taken  before  a  Parliamentary  com- 
mittee. The  business  was  in  the  hands  of  small 
master-manufacturers  who  lived  not  in  the  town  but  in 
homesteads  in  the  fields,  and  rented  little  pasture-farms — 
we  are  especially  told  that  clothiers  who  took  arable  farms 
rarely  prospered — of  from  3  to  15  acres  in  size.  Most  of 
them  kept  horses  to  carry  their  cloth  to  the  Hall  in  Leeds 
where  it  was  sold.  Every  master  worked  with  his  own 
hands,  and  nearly  all  the  processes  through  which  the  wool 


196  INDUSTRY  AND  DEMOCRACY 

was  put — the  spinning,  the  weaving,  and  the  dyeing — were 
carried  on  in  his  own  house.  Few  owned  more  than  three 
or  four  looms,  or  employed  more  than  eight  or  ten  people — 
men,  women,  and  children.  This  method  of  carrying  on 
the  trade  was  called  the  domestic  system.  *  What  I  mean,* 
said  a  witness,  *  by  the  domestic  system  is  the  little  clothiers 
living  in  villages  or  detached  places,  with  all  their  comforts, 
carrying  on  business  with  their  own  capital:  every  one 
must  have  some  capital,  more  or  less,  to  carry  on  his  trade, 
and  they  are  in  some  degree  little  merchants  as  well  as 
manufacturers,  in  Yorkshire.'  There  are  many  other  facts 
of  extreme  interest,  but  what  I  have  told  you  may  be  taken 
as  a  fair  description  of  an  industrial  system  which  was  not 
by  any  means  peculiar  to  one  place  or  to  one  trade. 

To  make  my  description  complete  I  ought,  perhaps,  to 
remind  you  that  the  manufacture  of  wool  was  not  confined 
to  one  or  two  special  districts  like  the  neighbourhood  of 
Leeds  or  the  valleys  of  Gloucestershire  and  Somersetshire. 
A  spinning-wheel  was  to  be  found  in  every  cottage  and 
farmhouse  in  the  kingdom,  a  loom  in  every  village.  And 
the  mention  of  this  fact  brings  me  to  another  point  in  the 
economic  history  of  this  period — the  extremely  narrow 
circle  in  which  trade  moved.  In  many  districts  the  farmers 
and  labourers  used  few  things  which  were  not  the  work 
of  their  own  hands,  or  which  had  not  been  manufactured 
a  few  miles  from  their  homes.  The  poet  Wordsworth's 
account  of  the  farmers'  families  in  Westmoreland,  who 
grew  on  their  own  land  the  corn  with  which  they  were  fed, 
spun  in  their  own  homes  the  wool  with  which  they  were 
clothed,  and  supplied  the  rest  of  their  wants  by  the  sale  of 
yarn  in  the  neighbouring  market  town,  was  not  so  inapplic- 
able to  other  parts  of  England  as  we  might  at  first  imagine. 
If  the  inland  trade  was  thus  circumscribed,  we  shall  not  be 
surprised  to  find  that  our  foreign  trade  was,  compared  with 
its  present  dimensions,  on  a  tiny  scale.  There  is  no  doubt 
that  it  was  in  a  far  smaller  proportion  to  the  home  trade 
than  at  the  present  time.  I  have  mentioned  these  fact« 
about  the  area  of  trade,  because,  taken  in  connection  with 
the  contemporary  industrial  conditions,  they  explain  to  a 
large  extent  why,  in  those  days,  though  there  were  periods 


INDUSTRY  AND  DEMOCRACY  1»T 

of  keen  distress,  there  was  no  such  thing  as  long- continued 
widespread  depression  of  trade.  Over-production  —  of 
which  we  hear  so  much  as  the  cause  of  trade  depressions — 
over-production  was  impossible  when  the  producer  lived 
next  door  to  the  consumer,  and  knew  his  wants  as  well  as 
the  country  shoemaker  of  to-day  knows  the  number  of 
pairs  of  boots  that  are  wanted  in  his  villaga  And  when 
foreign  trade  was  so  insignificant,  wars  and  rumours  of  wars 
could  exercise  but  little  influence  over  the  general  circle  of 
commerce.  So  that  not  only  was  the  whole  state  of  in- 
dustry then  very  different,  but  the  most  complicated  of 
all  the  difficulties  which  beset  us  now  had  not  made  their 
appearance. 

1  have  still  to  give  some  explanation  of  the  extreme 
simplicity  of  our  productive  system,  and  of  the  limited 
character  of  the  inland  trade.  The  main  cause  was  un- 
doubtedly the  badness  of  communications  and  the  high  cost 
of  carriage.  Brindley  had  only  just  cut  the  first  canal ; 
the  great  bulk  of  goods  were  borne  in  coasting  vessels. 
The  expense  of  carriage  was  enormous — it  cost  forty  shill- 
ings to  send  a  ton  of  coals  from  Manchester  to  Liverpool — 
and  it  was  as  slow  as  it  was  expensive.  Adam  Smith  tells 
us  that  it  took  a  broad-wheeled  wagon,  drawn  by  eight 
horses,  and  attended  by  two  men,  three  weeks  to  carry  four 
tons  of  goods  from  London  to  Edinburgh.  The  roads — even 
the  main  roads — were  often  impassable.  A  famous  traveller 
describes  how  the  high  road  between  Preston  and  Wigan 
had,  even  in  summer,  ruts  four  feet  deep,  floating  with  mud : 
and  in  many  parts  of  the  country  the  principal  means  of 
communication  were  tracks  used  by  pack-horses.  The 
hosiery  manufacturers  of  Leicester,  in  the  very  middle  of  Eng- 
land, employed  this  last  mode  of  conveyance.  Was  it  not 
natural  that,  shut  up  within  narrow  confines,  unstimulated 
by  wide  markets  and  varied  intercourse,  manufactures 
advanced  but  slowly  and  inventions  were  rare?  During 
the  last  century  there  has  been  a  series  of  inventions,  the 
greatest  the  world  has  seen;  but  Adam  Smith  expressly 
declares  that  during  the  three  centuries  preceding  the  time 
in  which  he  wrote,  only  three  inventions  of  any  importance 
had  been  made  in  the  clothing  trade,  the  staple  industry  of 


198      INDUSTRY  AND  DEMOCRACY 

the  English  people.  Man's  life  moved  on  from  generation 
to  generation  in  a  quiet  course  which  would  seem  to  us  a 
dull,  unvarying  routine. 

Such,  then,  briefly  and  imperfectly  described,  were  the 
external  forms  or  conditions  of  industry  in  the  middle  of 
the  last  century.  If  now  we  turn  to  its  inner  life — to  the 
relations  between  employers  and  workmen — we  shall  find 
the  revolution  which  has  taken  place  equally  startling. 
The  majority  of  employers  were  small  masters — manu- 
facturers like  those  already  described,  who,  in  ideas  and 
habits  of  life,  were  little  removed  from  the  workmen,  out  of 
whose  ranks  they  had  risen,  and  to  whose  ranks  they  might 
return  once  more.  There  were,  of  course,  even  then  capitalist 
employers,  but  on  a  small  scale ;  nor  was  their  attitude  to 
their  workmen  very  different  from  that  of  the  little  masters 
in  the  same  trade.  That  they  were  not  numerous  is  proved 
by  the  extreme  rarity  of  the  term  '  capitalist '  in  the  writings 
of  the  period ;  whilst  the  term  *  manufacturer '  which  now 
denotes  the  employer  then  described  the  workman — a  change 
of  meaning  curiously  significant  of  the  transformation  in  the 
conditions  of  industrial  life.  Eew  of  the  small  masters  of 
whom  I  have  spoken  did  not  work  with  their  own  hands ; 
and  it  was  the  common  thing  for  them  to  teach  their 
apprentices  the  trade.  Both  the  apprentices,  for  whose 
moral  education  he  was  responsible,  and  the  journeymen 
were  lodged  and  boarded  in  the  master's  house.  Between 
men  living  in  such  close  and  continuous  relations  (the 
journeyman  was  hired  by  the  year,  and  seldom  changed  his 
master  if  he  was  a  good  one)  the  bonds  were  naturally  very 
intimate.  Nor  were  these  bonds  loosened  when  the  journey- 
man married  and  lived  in  his  own  house.  The  master  knew 
all  his  affairs,  his  particular  wants,  his  peculiarities,  his 
resources,  the  number  of  his  children,  as  well  as  he  did 
before.  If  the  weaver  was  sick,  the  master  lent  him  money ; 
if  trade  was  slack  he  kept  him  on  at  a  loss.  This  state  of 
things  had  its  dark  side,  no  doubt,  but  that  it  existed  there 
is  a  mass  of  evidence  to  prove.  '  We  consider  it  a  duty  to 
keep  our  men,'  said  one  employer.  '  Masters  and  men,'  said 
another, '  were  in  general  so  joined  together  in  sentiment, 
and,  if  I  may  be  permitted  to  use  the  term,  iu  love  to  each 


INDUSTRY  A^^)  DEMOCEACY  199 

other,  that  they  did  not  wish  to  be  separated  if  they  could 
help  it.'  And  the  workmen  corroborated  the  assertions  of 
the  masters.  '  It  seldom  happens/  said  a  weaver, '  that  the 
small  clothiers  change  their  men  except  in  case  of  sickness 
and  death.'  It  was  not  uncommon  for  a  workman  to  be 
employed  by  the  same  master  for  forty  years ;  and  the 
migration  of  labourers  in  search  of  work  was  small  compared 
with  what  goes  on  in  the  present  day.  A  workman  would 
live  and  die  on  the  spot  where  he  was  born,  and  the  same 
family  would  remain  for  generations  working  for  the  same 
employers  in  the  same  village.  It  would  be  difficult  to  find 
examples  of  this  life  in  England  now :  but  were  we  to  cross 
the  sea  and  travel  to  the  ancient  town  of  Nuremberg  in 
Bavaria,  in  whose  quaint,  narrow  streets  the  old  industrial 
system  still  survives,  we  should  light  upon  many  an  ex- 
ample. There  we  should  discover,  for  instance,  a  certain 
family  of  Schmidts  employed  by  a  certain  firm  named  Sachs, 
whose  ancestors  three  hundred  years  ago  entered  the  service 
of  that  same  house;  the  two  families  are  united  by  an 
indissoluble  tie.  Under  such  conditions  the  master  busies 
himself  with  the  welfare  of  the  workman,  and  the  education 
of  his  children ;  the  workman  eagerly  promotes  the  interests 
of  the  master,  and  watches  over  the  fortunes  of  the  house. 
They  are  not  two  families  but  one. 

And  this  warmth  of  personal  attachment,  this  close 
dependence  of  the  workman  on  the  employer,  existed  at 
the  time  of  which  I  am  speaking  not  only  in  manufactures, 
but  also  in  agriculture.  The  labourer,  hired  by  the  year, 
and  boarded  and  lodged  in  the  farmhouse,  was  a  member 
of  the  farmer's  household.  William  Cobbett,  the  most  graphic 
painter  of  English  rural  life  we  have  ever  had,  describes 
life  in  the  farmhouse  as  he  knew  it  when  a  boy,  and  as 
it  had  existed  many  years  before  his  time.  '  The  farmer,* 
he  says,  '  used  to  sit  at  the  head  of  the  oak  table  along  with 
his  men,  say  grace  to  them,  and  cut  up  the  meat  and  the 
pudding.  He  might  take  a  cup  of  strong  beer  to  himself, 
when  they  had  none ;  but  that  was  pretty  nearly  all  the 
difference  in  the  manner  of  living.'  If  we  turn  to  a  less 
prejudiced  observer  than  Cobbett,  to  the  old  Norfolk 
shepherd,  whom  I  have  already  quoted,  we  shaU  find  that 


200  INDUSTRY  AND  DEMOCRACY 

he  tells  us  the  same  tale.  *  The  farmer  then  worked  like 
his  men,  and  all  messed  together.  He  hadn't  much  more 
book-learning  than  we  shepherds,  who  could  neither 
read  nor  write.'  The  farmer,  in  fact,  like  the  master 
manufacturer,  hardly  belonged  to  a  different  class  from 
his  labourers. 

There  is  yet  one  other  characteristic  of  industry  in  those 
days  which  remains  for  us  to  scrutinise.  This  is  the  network 
of  restrictions  and  regulations  in  which  it  was  entangled, 
and  which  exercised  an  important  influence  over  both  its 
inner  and  its  outer  life.  These  laws  and  regulations  were 
of  two  kinds — first,  those  which  expressed  ideas  common  to 
both  workmen  and  employers ;  secondly,  those  which  ex- 
pressed the  ideas  of  the  employers  alone.  To  the  first  kind 
I  need  only  just  allude.  The  most  famous  of  them  were 
the  regulation  of  trade  by  corporations  with  exclusive 
privileges,  the  law  of  apprenticeship,  and  (perhaps)  the 
settlement  of  wages  by  Justices  of  the  Peace.  Of  the 
second  kind  I  must  speak  a  little  in  detail,  for  they  throw 
a  strong  light  on  the  status  of  the  workman  at  that  time. 
Most  conspicuous  were  the  combination  laws — laws  which 
made  it  illegal  for  labourers  to  combine  to  raise  wages,  or  to 
strike.  *  We  have  no  Acts  of  Parliament,'  says  Adam  Smith, 
'  against  combining  to  lower  the  price  of  work,  but  many 
against  combining  to  raise  it.'  And  in  another  passage  he 
describes  a  strike  as  generally  ending  *  in  nothing  but  the 
punishment  and  ruin  of  the  ringleaders.'  Cobbett  has  said 
the  same  thing  in  more  vehement  language.  '  There  was  a 
turn-out  last  winter,'  he  writes,  after  a  visit  to  the  clothiers 
of  the  west  of  England  some  half-century  after  the  period 
in  which  Adam  Smith  wrote, '  but  it  was  put  an  end  to  in 
the  usual  way :  the  constable's  staff,  the  bayonet,  the  gaol.' 
And  not  only  was  combination  to  raise  wages  illegal,  but 
emigration  from  parish  to  parish  in  search  of  work  was 
rendered  almost  impossible  by  the  law  of  settlement — part 
of  the  cumbrous  machinery  of  the  old  Poor  Law.  The  web 
of  restrictions  upon  the  labourer's  movements  was  completed 
by  laws  which  forbade  him  to  emigrate.  These  laws,  which 
cruelly  hindered  the  workman  in  his  efforts  to  secure  a 
livelihood,  were  bad;  but  there  were  other  laws  directly 


INDUSTRY  AND  DEMOCEACY  201 

affecting  the  position  of  the  workman  as  a  citizen  which 
were  worse.  I  select  one  example.  The  law  of  Master 
and  Servant  made  breach  of  contract  on  the  part  of  an 
employer  a  civil  offence,  on  the  part  of  the  labourer  a 
crime. 

Now,  how  was  it  that  the  English  statute-book  was 
disfigured  by  laws  which  robbed  the  labourer  as  a  wage- 
earner,  and  degraded  him  as  a  citizen  ?  The  explanation, 
I  think,  is  simple.  Except  as  a  member  of  a  mob,  the 
labourer  had  not  a  shred  of  political  influence.  The  power 
of  making  laws  was  concentrated  in  the  hands  of  the  land- 
owners, the  great  merchant  princes,  and  a  small  knot  of 
capitalist-manufacturers  who  wielded  that  power — was  it 
not  natural  ? — in  the  interests  of  their  class,  rather  than  for 
the  good  of  the  people.  And  different  as  the  small  master- 
workmen  were  from  the  classes  who  were  supreme  in 
Parliament,  they  had  this  in  common  with  them — they 
were  masters;  and  when  disputes  with  their  workmen 
arose,  they  did  not  hesitate  to  appeal  to  the  legislature  for 
a  support  which  it  was  only  too  ready  to  give.  No/  is  the 
famous  assertion  of  the  great  economist  that,  whenever 
Parliament  attempted  to  regulate  differences  between 
masters  and  their  workmen,  its  coimsellors  were  always 
the  masters,  unsupported  by  facts.  It  receives  lively  illus- 
tration from  the  pen  of  a  pamphleteer  of  the  period,  who 
remarks  with  an  air  of  great  naturalness  and  simplicity 
that  'the  gentlemen  and  magistrates  ought  to  aid  and 
encourage  the  clothier  in  the  reduction  of  the  price  of 
labour,  as  far  as  is  consistent  with  the  laws  of  humanity, 
and  necessary  for  the  preservation  of  foreign  trade.' 

You  must  not  suppose,  however,  that  the  ruling  classes 
were  utterly  incapable  of  sympathy  with  the  people,  or  of 
playing  the  part  of  protectors.  When  their  interests  were 
not  imperilled,  or  their  class  prejudices  involved,  they 
frequently  did  interpose  to  shield  the  workmen  from 
injustice.  Parliament,  even  in  its  worst  days,  was  never 
entirely  on  the  side  of  the  masters;  there  were  always 
certain  kinds  of  oppression  against  which  it  steadily  set  its 
face.  Its  attitude  was  a  mixed  one.  For  example,  if  we 
turn  to  a  statute  of  the  reign  of  George  L  which  forbids 


202  INDUSTRY  AND  DEMOCEACY 

combinations  of  workmen  under  penalty  of  three  months' 
imprisonment  with  hard  labour,  we  shall  find  in  the  very 
same  Act  clauses  making  it  illegal  for  employers  to  pay 
their  workmen  in  truck  under  penalty  of  a  ten  pound  fine. 
The  country  gentlemen,  though  they  regarded  combinations 
as  insurrections  against  the  established  order  of  society, 
were  quite  capable  of  seeing  that  payment  in  kind  was  an 
instrument  of  fraud;  and  the  benevolence  of  their  inten- 
tions is  not  affected  by  the  fact  that  in  the  first  case  the 
penalty  is  a  heavy,  in  the  second  a  light  one.  It  is  so 
important  to  understand  this  double  attitude  of  the  ruling 
classes  towards  the  labourers  that  I  cannot  resist  illustrating 
it  by  another  example,  designedly  selected  from  a  later 
period  when  the  'Lords  of  the  Loom'  had  taken  their 
places  in  the  legislature  by  the  side  of  the  'Merchant 
Princes '  and  the  country  squires,  but  when  the  workmen 
had  not  yet  obtained  the  franchise.  Sir  Robert  Peel, 
father  of  the  famous  statesman,  was  the  author  of  the 
first  Factory  Act  of  1802,  and  a  man  of  honesty  and 
benevolence.  But  when  asked  by  a  Committee  of  the 
House  of  Commons  whether  he  would  follow  up  his  sug- 
gestion to  repeal  the  law  of  apprenticeship  by  a  proposal 
to  repeal  the  law  forbidding  the  emigration  of  artisans,  he 
answered  that  there  was  a  great  want  of  workmen  at  home, 
and  that  on  this  point  legislation  would  be  premature. 
Now  it  is  well  known  that  the  law  of  apprenticeship  was 
repealed  on  the  demand  of  the  masters  against  the  wishes 
of  the  great  mass  of  workmen ;  and  it  is  obvious  that  the 
*  true  principles  of  commerce '  urged  in  favour  of  the  first, 
applied  with  equal  force  in  favour  of  the  second.  But 
whilst  the  repeal  of  the  first  was  in  the  interest  of  the 
masters,  the  repeal  of  the  second  would  have  been  in  the 
interest  of  the  workpeople.  We  see,  therefore,  that  the 
disposition  of  the  great  manufacturers  towards  the  labourers 
resembled  that  of  the  country  gentlemen ;  but  it  was  not, 
on  the  whole,  so  favourable.  Though  in  mentioning  this 
incident  I  have  anticipated  my  narrative,  I  have  yet 
obtained  an  excellent  illustration  of  the  point  I  have  been 
striving  to  prove — namely,  that  the  position  of  the  work- 
man was  a  transitional  one.     He  halted  half-way  between 


INDUSTRY  AND  DE^IOCRACY  203 

the  position  of  the  serf  and  the  position  of  the  citizen ;  he 
was  treated  with  kindness  by  those  who  injured  him ;  he 
was  protected,  oppressed,  dependent. 

The  England  I  have  described  was  the  England  Adam 
Smith  saw  when  he  was  collecting  materials  for  his  great 
book.*  But  in  the  facts  contained  in  the  book  itself  are 
traces  of  the  industrial  revolution  which  had  already  begun 
when  its  publication  took  place.  Out  of  many  instances  I 
will  choose  one.  Adam  Smith  remarks  that  wages  had 
recently  risen  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Carron ;  and  it  was 
at  Carron  that  Eoebuck  had,  in  1760,  set  up  the  first  iron- 
works ever  established  in  Scotland,  and  succeeded  in 
smelting  iron  by  pit  coal — an  invention  which  revolutionised 
the  iron  trade.  It  was,  however,  in  Glasgow  itself  where 
Adam  Smith  was  teaching  the  new  science  of  Political 
Economy,  that  the  signs  of  new  movement  in  industry 
were  most  conspicuous.  The  city  is  described  by  a 
contemporary  writer  as  a  '  perfect  beehive  of  industry,  and 
'filled  with  a  noble  spirit  of  enterprise.'  And  it  was  in 
Glasgow  that  Adam  Smith  saw  a  most  startling  proof  of 
the  obstacles  thrown  in  the  way  of  industrial  originality  by 
the  old  regulations  of  industry.  Whilst  he  was  Professor 
at  the  University,  there  came  to  Glasgow  James  Watt,  the 
inventor  of  the  condensing  steam-engine,  anxious  to  set  up 
as  a  mathematical  instrument-maker;  but  the  Corporation 
of  Hammermen  refused  him  permission,  on  the  ground  that 
he  was  neither  a  burgess  of  the  town  nor  had  served  an 
apprenticeship  to  the  trade.  Fortunately,  however,  for 
Watt,  he  had  a  friend  among  the  Professors,  by  whose 
influence  he  was  allowed  to  establish  his  workshop  within 
the  University  buildings,  where  the  power  of  the  corpora- 
tion could  not  penetrate.  No  wonder  that  every  page  of 
the  Wealth  of  Nations  is  illumined  with  an  illimitable 
psission  for  freedom  of  industry  and  trade.  In  the  spirit  of 
that  book  still  more  than  in  the  facts  contained  in  it,  the 
dawn  of  a  new  epoch  is  visible.  The  Wealth  of  Nations  is 
the  great  proclamation  of  the  rights  of  industry  and  trade. 

Let  us  pause  and  inquire  what  the  proclamation  really 

*  Compare  with  this  and  the  following  paragraphs  a  similar  passage  in 
'Bicardo  and  the  Old  Political  Economy'  abore,  pp.  151-153. — Ed. 


204  INDUSTRY  AND  DEMOCRACY 

meant.  We  shall  find,  if  we  consider  it  closely,  that  it 
contained  two  assertions ;  first,  an  assertion  of  the  right  of 
the  workman  to  legal  equality  and  independence ;  secondly, 
an  assertion  that  industrial  freedom  is  essential  to  the 
material  prosperity  of  the  people.  The  first  assertion — 
rather  implied  than  insisted  on — reflected  the  political  ideas 
of  the  age.  It  is  significant  that  the  same  year  which  wit- 
nessed the  enunciation  of  the  industrial  rights  of  man  in 
the  publication  of  the  Wealth  of  Nations  witnessed  the 
enunciation  of  the  political  rights  of  man  in  the  Declaration 
of  American  Independence.  All  around,  indeed,  men  pointed 
out  signs  of  the  dissolution  of  the  old  social  and  political 
system.  *  Subordination,'  said  Dr,  Johnson,  who  could 
compress  keen  observation  into  pregnant  sentences  — 
*  subordination  is  sadly  broken  down  in  this  age.  No  man, 
now,  has  the  same  authority  which  his  father  had — except 
a  gaoler.'  The  second  assertion  contained  in  this  proclama- 
tion expressed  the  inarticulate  desire  for  the  removal  of 
ancient  restiictions  once  approved  by  both  masters  and 
men,  a  desire  created  by  the  rapid  growth  of  material  pro- 
sperity. Just  now  I  said  that  in  the  middle  of  the  last 
century  there  was  comparatively  little  movement  of  work- 
men from  place  to  place ;  but  Adam  Smith's  fierce  attack 
on  the  law  of  settlement  shows  that  migration  was  on  the 
increase.  The  world  was,  in  fact,  on  the  eve  of  an  indus- 
trial revolution ;  and  it  is  interesting  to  remember  that  the 
two  men  who  did  most  to  bring  it  about,  Adam  Smith  and 
James  "Watt,  met,  as  I  have  mentioned,  in  Glasgow,  when 
one  was  dreaming  of  the  book,  and  the  other  of  the  inven- 
tion, which  were  to  introduce  a  new  industrial  age. 

For  the  Wealth  of  Nations  and  the  steam-engine  (with  the 
great  inventions,  like  the  spinning-jenny  and  the  power- 
loom,  which  accompanied  or  followed  it)  destroyed  the  old 
world  and  built  a  new  one.  The  spinning-wheel  and  the 
hand-loom  were  silenced,  and  manufactures  were  transferred 
from  scattered  villages  and  quiet  homesteads  to  factories 
and  cities  filled  with  noise.  Villages  became  towns,  towns 
became  cities,  and  factories  started  up  on  barren  heath  and 
deserted  waste.  I  cannot  stop  to  describe  this  vast  revolu- 
tion in  detail;   I  must  try  to  carry  you  quickly  over  a 


INDUSTRY  AND  DEMOCRACY  206 

period  of  seventy  years,  marking  as  strongly  as  I  can  tbe 
principal  features  of  the  change.  Rapid  as  the  revolution 
was  it  did  not  come  at  once.  In  the  cotton  trade,  for 
instance,  first  the  hand- wheel  was  thrown  away,  and  mills 
with  water-frames  and  spinning-jennies  were  built  on  the 
Bides  of  streams ;  then  the  mule  was  invented,  which 
supplied  the  weaver  with  unlimited  quantities  of  yarn,  and 
raised  his  wages  and  increased  the  demand  for  loom-shops, 
causing  even  old  bams  and  cart-houses  hastily  pierced  with 
windows  to  be  adapted  to  that  purpose ;  finally  there  came 
the  introduction  of  the  power-loom,  the  general  application 
of  steam  to  drive  machinery,  and  the  erection  of  the 
gigantic  factories  that  we  see  around  us  at  the  present  time. 
By  these  last  changes  the  final  blow  was  struck  at  the  little 
master,  half-manufacturer  half-farmer,  and  in  his  place 
sprang  up  the  great  capitalist  employer,  the  owner  of 
hundreds  of  looms,  the  employer  of  hundreds  of  men,  buy- 
ing and  selling  in  every  market  on  the  globe. 

The  revolution,  however,  was  not  entirely  due  to  the  sub- 
stitution of  steam  for  hand  power  in  production ;  it  was 
partly  the  result  of  an  enormous  expansion  of  internal  and  ex- 
ternal trade.  The  expansion  of  internal  trade  was  the  effect 
of  unparalleled  improvements  in  the  means  of  communica- 
tion, the  establishment  of  the  canal  system,  the  construction 
of  new  roads  by  Telford,  and  the  introduction  of  railways. 
The  expansion  of  external  trade  was  caused  by  the  great 
war  of  1793,  which,  closing  the  workshops  of  the  Continent, 
opened  every  port  in  Europe  to  English  iron  and  cotton. 
We  should  naturally  expect  such  radical  changes  to  give 
rise  to  new  industrial  and  commercial  problems,  and  this 
was  the  case.  In  the  literature  of  this  period  we  find,  for 
the  first  time,  discussions  of  those  intricate  questions  of 
over-production  and  depression  of  trade  with  which  we  are 
now  only  too  familiar — questions,  remember,  which  never 
embarrassed  an  earlier  age.  On  these  points,  however,  I  do 
not  intend  to  speak  to-night  I  must  proceed  instead  to  a 
brief  examination  of  a  subject  which  is  perhaps  the  most 
vital  of  those  that  I  have  considered ;  I  mean  the  effects  of 
the  revolution  in  the  external  forms  of  industry  upon  its 
inner  life. 


206  INDUSTRY  AND  DEMOCRACY 

These  effects  were  terrible.  In  the  new  cities — de- 
nounced as  dens  where  men  came  together  not  for  the  pur- 
poses of  social  life,  but  to  make  calicoes  or  hardware,  or 
broad  cloths — in  the  new  cities,  the  old  warm  attachments, 
born  of  ancient,  local  contiguity  and  personal  intercourse, 
vanished  in  the  fierce  contest  for  wealth  among  thousands 
who  had  never  seen  each  other's  faces  before.  Between  the 
individual  workman  and  the  capitalist  who  employed 
hundreds  of  *  hands '  a  wide  gulf  opened :  the  workman 
ceased  to  be  the  cherished  dependant,  he  became  the  living 
tool  of  whom  the  employer  knew  less  than  he  did  of  his 
steam-engine.  The  breach  was  admitted  by  the  employer, 
who  declared  it  to  be  impassable.  '  It  is  as  impossible,'  said 
one,  '  to  effect  a  union  between  the  high  and  low  classes  of 
society  as  to  mix  oil  aijd  water ;  there  is  no  reciprocity  of 
feeling  between  them.'  The  absence  of  any  mutual  affec- 
tion was  openly  attributed  to  an  irreconcilable  antagonism 
of  interest.  *  There  can  be  no  union,*  said  the  same  em- 
ployer, '  between  employer  and  employed,  because  it  is  the 
interest  of  the  employer  to  get  as  much  work  as  he  can, 
done  for  the  smallest  sum  possible.'  We  know  that,  in  the 
old  time,  in  spite  of  the  intimate  relations  in  which  masters 
and  workmen  lived,  there  were  disputes  between  them ;  we 
know  that  there  were  combinations  on  the  one  side  and 
oppression  on  the  other;  but  we  may  be  sure  it  would 
have  been  difiScult  to  find  a  master  who  openly  used  words 
like  these.  Contrast  them  with  the  statement  I  quoted 
before :  '  Masters  and  men  were  in  general  so  joined  together 
in  sentiment,  and  if  I  may  be  permitted  to  use  the  term,  in 
love  to  each  other,  that  they  did  not  wish  to  be  separated 
if  they  could  help  itl'  Masters  in  the  domestic  system 
were  often  brutal  and  ignorant  enough,  but  the  quotation 
I  have  just  repeated  was  not,  let  me  remind  you,  an 
exaggerated  description  of  the  relations  which,  in  many 
cases,  actually  existed  between  them  and  their  workpeople. 

To  return  to  my  narrative.  The  destruction  of  the  old 
bonds  between  employers  and  workmen  was  not  peculiar  to 
manufactures ;  it  came  to  pass  in  agriculture  also.  An 
agrarian  as  well  as  an  industrial  revolution  had  taken  place. 
Scientific  methods  of  cultivation  had  been   substituted  for 


INDUSTRY  AND  DEMOCRACY  207 

unscientific ;  vast  enclosures  had  been  made ;  traces  of  the 
old  three-field  system  of  apportioning  the  land  were  fast 
disappearing;  small  farms  were  giving  way  to  large.  A 
new  race  of  farmers,  corresponding  to  the  new  race  of 
manufacturers,  had  sprung  into  existence,  who,  enriched  by 
the  high  prices  which  prevailed  during  the  great  war, 
changed  their  habits  of  life.  The  labourer  ceased  to  be  a 
member  of  the  farmer's  household,  and,  to  use  Cobbett's 
words,  was  thrust  out  of  the  farmhouse  into  a  hoveL 
Exceeding  bitter  was  the  labourer's  cry.  'The  farmers,' 
said  one, '  take  no  more  notice  of  us  than  if  we  were  dumb 
beasts ;  they  let  us  eat  our  crust  by  the  ditch  side.' 

On  the  part  of  both  the  artisans  in  the  cities  and  the 
labourers  in  the  villages  lamentation  at  the  changed  atti- 
tude of  their  employers  was  intensified  by  the  physical 
distress  into  which  great  masses  of  them  had  fallen. 
Though  many  of  the  old  restrictions  attacked  by  Adam 
Smith  had  been  abolished,  or  had  become  obsolete — though 
the  law  of  apprenticeship  had  been  abolished  (not,  as  I 
before  said,  at  the  demand  of  the  labourers) — though,  owing 
to  the  growth  of  new  cities  and  the  extension  of  internjS 
trade,  corporations  had  lost  their  power — though  the 
material  wealth  of  the  country  had  increased  with  enormous 
rapidity  (the  cotton  trade  had  trebled  in  fifteen  years) — yet 
the  people  seemed  to  have  little  share  in  the  wealth  they 
produced,  and  large  numbers  of  them  sank  deeper  and 
deeper  into  destitution  and  misery  and  vice.  "Why  was 
this  ?  There  were  several  causes :  first  the  old  Poor  Law, 
which  stimulated  increase  among  a  degraded  population, 
and  the  Corn  Laws,  which  made  bread  dear  and  difficult  to 
get;  secondly,  the  exhausting  conditions  of  the  new  industrial 
methods ;  thirdly,  the  fact  that  this  was  a  period  of  transi- 
tion from  one  mode  of  industry  to  another — all  transition 
is  painful — and  that  many  workmen  were  fighting  with 
machinery  for  a  miserable  subsistence.  It  would  serve  no 
good  purpose  to  enlarge  on  the  sufferings  of  the  people  at 
this  time.  I  shall  content  myself  with  showing  by  the 
example  of  one  industry  in  one  place  the  wretchedness  of 
those  who  were  striving  stUl  to  maintain  themselves  under 
the  old  system,  which  was  being  fast  trodden  out  by  the 


208  INDUSTRY  AND  DEMOCRACY 

new.  In  Leicester  and  its  neighbourhood,  about  the  middle 
of  the  last  century,  an  eye-witness  describes  the  stocking- 
makers  as  remarkably  prosperous.  They  had  each  a 
cottage  and  a  garden,  rights  of  common  for  pig  and  poultry, 
and  sometimes  for  a  cow,  a  barrel  of  home-brewed  ale,  a 
work-day  suit  of  clothes  and  another  for  Sundays,  and 
plenty  of  leisure.  It  is  stated  that  they  seldom  worked 
more  than  three  days  a  week ;  but  the  general  average  in 
the  trade  was  probably  five.  The  working  day  was  about 
ten  hours.  Nearly  a  hundred  years  later  Thomas  Cooper, 
the  Chartist,  returning  late  at  night  from  a  Chartist  meet- 
ing in  Leicester,  and  hearing  as  he  passed  along  the  streets 
the  creak  of  the  stocking  frame,  and  seeing  lights  in  the 
upper  windows,  turned  to  his  companion  and  said, '  What 
do  these  people  earn  ? '  *  About  four  and  sixpence,'  was  the 
reply.  '  You  mean  four  and  sixpence  a  day  ? '  said  Cooper. 
'  No,'  said  his  friend, '  four  and  sixpence  a  week.'  Cooper, 
though  a  workman  himself,  was  incredulous  that  men  who 
were  at  their  frames  for  sixteen  hours  a  day  could  receive 
such  a  wretched  pittance.^ 

The  misery,  of  which  this  is  only  one  instance,  was  spread 
far  and  wide ;  and  about  the  time  Cooper  was  in  Leicester, 
that  is  about  the  year  1840,  things  had  reached  a  crisis.  It 
is  true  that  the  old  Poor  Law  had  been  reformed,  and  the 
great  Factory  Act  of  1833  passed,  but  many  thought  these 
and  all  other  remedies  were  ineffectual  or  too  late.  '  All 
schemes  of  reform,'  said  an  old  reformer,  *  are  far  too  late  to 
prevent  the  tremendous  evils  which  I  have  long  seen 
gathering  around  us,  and  for  which  I  see  no  remedy.'  That 
a  social  revolution  was  inevitable  was  an  opinion  generally 
held.  '  We  are  engulfed,  I  believe,  and  must  inevitably  go 
down  the  cataract,'  said  Dr.  Arnold.  Nor  was  this  belief 
confined  to  the  upper  and  middle  classes.  Even  Ebenezer 
Elliott,  the  Corn-Law  Rhymer,  declared  that  had  he  known 
French  he  would  have  fled  to  France  to  avoid  the  coming 
revolution  for  the  sake  of  his  children.  Whilst  many  were 
paralysed  by  the  conviction  that  a  revolution  was  at  hand, 

^  The  account  I  have  given  of  this  dialogue  is  condensed  and  not  quit« 
literal ;  but  the  original  is  too  long  for  quotation,  though  well  worth 
reading  at  length  in  Cooper's  Autobiography, 


INDUSTRY  AND  DEMOCRACY  209 

hundreds  of  a  more  sanguine  temperament  raised  their 
voices  to  offer  remedies  of  their  own,  or  to  denounce  the 
remedies  of  others.  Not  a  few  turned  round  and  attacked 
the  gospel  of  Adam  Smith  and  James  "Watt.  '  Liberty,'  said 
Carlyle,  '  liberty,  I  am  told,  is  a  divine  thing.  Liberty, 
when  it  becomes  the  "  Liberty  to  die  by  starvation,"  is  not 
80  divine.' 

Of  all  those  who  assailed  the  new  industrial  world 
created  by  the  Wealth  of  ligations  and  the  steam-engine, 
Carlyle  was  the  greatest ;  and  Past  and  Present^  the  book  in 
which  he  flung  out  his  denunciations,  is  the  most  tender 
and  pathetic  picture  of  the  Past,  the  most  unsparing  indict- 
ment of  the  Present  that  exists  in  modern  English  litera- 
ture. 'England,'  wrote  Carlyle,  *is  full  of  wealth,  of 
multifarious  produce,  supply  for  human  wants  in  every 
kind ;  yet  England  is  dying  of  inanition.'  Throwing  impa- 
tiently aside  such  explanations  of  this  contradiction  as 
those  at  which  I  hinted  a  few  minutes  ago,  Carlyle  fixed  his 
eyes  on  two  facts  which  he  asserted  to  be  at  the  root  of 
the  nation's  suffering.  The  first  was  want  of  permanence. 
Gazing  on  the  ever-shifting  scene  of  the  Present ;  the  per- 
petual moving  to  and  fro  of  men  in  search  of  wealth; 
workmen  breaking  away  from  masters,  and  masters  discard- 
ing workmen ;  and  contrasting  this  with  the  quiet,  restful 
Past,  when  men  lived  together  in  contentment  whole  life- 
times, and  formed  unbroken  habits  of  affection;  Carlyle 
passionately  declared  that,  unless  we  could  bring  back 
permanence  those  habits  of  affection  on  which  our 
whole  life  rests  could  never  more  be  formed,  and  society 
must  fall  in  pieces  and  dissolve.  '  I  am  for  permanence,'  he 
cried, '  in  all  things,  at  the  earliest  possible  moment  and  to 
the  latest  possible.  Blessed  is  he  that  continueth  where 
he  is.'  And  only  in  the  restoration  of  the  old  system  of 
employment,  in  the  substitution  of  the  principle  of  per- 
manent contract  for  temporary  (then  every  day  gaining 
ground),  did  he  see  some  faint  hope  for  the  future.  '  The 
Principle  of  Permanence  year  by  year  better  seen  into  and 
elaborated,  may  enlarge  itself,  expand  gradually  on  every 
side  into  a  system.  This  once  secured,  the  basis  of  all 
good  results  were  laid.'    The  second  fact  which  Carlyle 

o 


210  INDUSTRY  AND  DEMOCRACY 

singled  out  as  closely  connected  with  the  first  was  what  he 
called  the  cash-nexus — *  man's  duty  to  man  resolving  itself 
into  handing  him  certain  metal  pieces,  and  then  shoving 
him  out  of  doors  * — and  the  contemplation  of  it  filled  him 
with  that  same  immeasurable  indignation  and  rage  which 
he  poured  out  upon  want  of  permanence.  '  We  call  it  a 
society,'  he  writes,  'and  go  about  proposing  openly  the 
totalest  separation  and  isolation.  Our  life  is  not  a  mutual 
helpfulness;  but  rather,  cloaked  under  due  lawa-of-war, 
named  fair  competition  and  so  forth,  it  is  a  mutual  hostility. 
We  have  profoundly  forgotten  everywhere  that  cash-pay- 
ment is  not  the  sole  relation  of  human  beings ;  we  think, 
nothing  doubting,  that  it  absolves  and  liquidates  all  engage- 
ments of  man.  "  My  starving  workers  ? "  answers  the  rich 
mill-owner.  "Did  I  not  hire  them  fairly  in  the  market? 
Did  I  not  pay  them  to  the  last  sixpence  the  sum  covenanted 
for?  What  have  I  to  do  with  them  more?"'  Do  with 
them  more?  Carlyle  would  have  had  him  do  infinitely 
more — would  have  had  him  cherish  them  as  human  beings 
and  not  forget  them  as  hands ;  would  have  had  him  guide 
and  protect  them,  help  them  in  sickness  and  misfortune, 
and  not  dismiss  them  even  when  trade  was  bad,  and  profits 
were  gone.  In  one  word,  Carlyle  would  have  had  the  rich 
govern  and  protect  the  poor  as  they  did  in  the  past. 

But  what  said  the  poor  themselves  whose  cause  Carlyle 
so  eagerly  pleaded  ?  Did  they  accept  his  view  ?  No !  The 
poor  believed  that  the  time  for  government  by  the  rich  had 
passed ;  that  the  time  had  come  for  government  by  the 
whole  people.  '  Give  us,'  cried  the  Chartists,  who  represented 
the  aspirations  of  the  people,  '  give  us,  not  government  by 
the  rich,  but  government  by  the  people,  not  protection,  but 
political  rights — give  us,  in  one  word,  our  Charter,  and  then 
will  this  dread  interval  of  darkness  and  of  anguish  pass 
away ;  then  will  that  dawn  come  for  which  we  have  watched 
so  long,  and  justice,  love,  and  plenty  inhabit  this  land,  and 
there  abide.' 

Who  was  right,  Carlyle  or  the  people  ?  The  people ! 
Yes!  the  people  were  right — the  people  who,  sick  with 
hunger  and  deformed,  with  toil,  dreamed  that  Democracy 
would  bring  deliverance.    The  people  were  right;  Democracy, 


INDUSTKY  AND  DEMOCRACY  211 

so  giantlike  and  threatening,  which,  with  rude  strength 
severs  sacred  ties  and  stamps  out  ancient  landmarks, 
Democracy,  though  in  ways  undreamt  of,  did  bring  deliver- 
ance. For  Democracy  is  sudden  like  the  sea,  and  grows 
dark  with  storms  and  sweeps  away  many  precious  things ; 
but,  like  the  sea,  it  reflects  the  light  of  the  wide  heavens 
and  cleanses  the  shores  of  human  life. 

Democracy  saved  industry:  let  us  see  in  what  way.  I 
have  already  drawn  your  attention  to  the  fact  that  on  the 
eve  of  the  industrial  revolution  there  were  on  every  side 
signs  of  political  change.  But  the  French  Revolution 
frightened  statesmen,  and  political  reform  in  England  was 
defayed  for  nearly  half  a  century.  Nevertheless  there  were 
in  Parliament  disciples  of  Adam  Smith  who  strove  to  obtain 
for  the  workman  civil  equality  and  independence,  apart 
from  the  franchise.  Owing  to  their  endeavours,  the  Com- 
bination Laws  were  repealed  in  1824;  but  the  following 
year  proved  how  insecure  was  the  position  of  the  workman 
when  without  a  vote.  In  1825  the  fears  of  the  em- 
ployers were  powerful  enough  to  induce  Parliament,  while 
legalising  the  common  deliberations  of  workmen,  to  make 
illegal  any  action  in  which  such  deliberations  might  result, 
and  the  workmen  lost  nearly  all  they  had  gained  the  year 
before.  But  though  in  Parliament  their  cause  might 
fluctuate,  ill  the  country  their  power  was  rapidly  increasing, 
owing  to  their  concentration  in  large  cities ;  and  the  Reform 
Bill  of  1832  was  largely  due  to  their  influence.  Bitter  dis- 
appointment, however,  followed;  for  the  working  classes 
found  that  they  had  only  thrown  additional  power  into  the 
hands  of  their  masters  and  the  middle  classes,  whilst  they 
themselves  remained  oppressed  and  fettered  as  before.  The 
disappointment  bore  fruit  in  the  agitation  for  the  Charter 
which  assumed  formidable  proportions  during  that  time  of 
misery  of  which  I  have  spoken,  but  died  away  when  the 
repeal  of  the  Corn-Laws  restored  prosperity  to  the  nation. 
In  the  lull  that  followed,  the  workmen  ceased  to  agitate, 
but  they  were  not  idle ;  they  were  quietly  organising  them- 
selves; and  in  1867,  after  a  sharp  struggle,  the  triumph 
came.  The  workmen  had  gained  the  key  of  the  position 
when  they  obtained  the  suiirage.    You  have  only  to  mark 


212  INDUSTRY  AND  DEMOCRACY 

the  results.  In  1871  Trades-Unions  were  legalised — this  is 
not  merely  a  fact  in  the  history  of  Trades-Unions,  but  in 
the  history  of  English  citizenship;  in  1875  the  law  of  con- 
spiracy was  abolished,  and  the  old  law  of  master  and  servant 
was  replaced  by  a  law  putting  master  and  servant  on  exactly 
the  same  footing.  The  workman  had  at  last  reached  the 
summit  of  the  long  ascent  from  the  position  of  a  serf,  and 
stood  by  the  side  of  his  master  as  the  full  citizen  of  a  free 
state. 

Meanwhile,  during  this  whole  period  of  struggle  the  gulf 
between  workman  and  employer  was  becoming  every  day 
more  wide.  The  causes  of  this  growing  estrangement  were 
manifold ;  I  can  only  mention  one  or  two  of  them.  First, 
the  introduction  of  machine-tools,  in  many  cases,  enabled 
the  master  to  dispense  with  a  body  of  highly  skilled 
mechanics  ;  he  was  no  longer  reluctant,  as  in  the  old  days, 
to  dismiss  a  man  whom  it  would  be  difficult,  perhaps  impos- 
sible, to  replace.  Next,  Trades-Unions  sprang  up:  and 
though  it  is  essential  to  remember  that,  without  these 
associations,  giving  as  they  did  both  material  power  and 
organisation  to  the  workmen,  Democracy  would  have  been 
impotent  to  effect  a  solution  of  the  labour  question ;  yet  it 
is  equally  important  to  recognise  that  by  forcing  the  work- 
men to  act  in  masses  through  delegates,  they  tore  away  the 
last  remnants  of  personal  ties  between  individual  workmen 
and  employers,  and  seemed  to  make  their  separation  com- 
plete. The  change  was  deeply  regretted  by  the  best 
members  of  both  classes.  'In  the  strike  of  1859,' said  a 
master  builder  before  the  Trades-Union  Commission, '  men 
came  to  us  who  had  worked  at  the  place  for  thirty  or  forty 
years,  and  said  to  us — "  This  is  the  saddest  day  that  ever 
happened  to  us  in  our  lives,  but  we  mnst  go,  we  are  bound 
to  go." '  And  as  the  men  had,  as  we  have  seen,  upbraided 
the  masters  with  their  changed  conduct,  so  now  the  masters 
in  their  turn  justly  complained  of  the  men.  'There  is  a 
difference  in  the  very  behaviour  of  the  men ;  some  hardly 
address  you  with  ordinary  civility,'  remarked  the  same 
employer,  dwelling  on  the  altered  bearing  of  his  men  after 
they  had  joined  a  Union.  Again,  though  Carlyle  had  pleaded 
passionately  for  permanent  instead  of  temporary  engage- 


INDUSTRY  AND  DEMOCRACY  iU 

ments,  short  contracts  became  more  and  more  the  rule. 
Yearly  hirings  ceased  in  every  industry  except  agriculture, 
where  they  are  also  beginning  to  disappear ;  and  in  many 
trades,  for  instance  in  the  building  and  iron  trades,  what  is 
called  the  minute  system  was  established — a  system  by 
which  men  can  leave  and  be  discharged  at  a  moment's 
notice.  For  this  change  also  the  Trades-Unions  are,  in  the 
main,  responsible.  Yearly  hirings  were  condemned  by  them 
as  a  kind  of  slavery,  since  they  put  the  workmen  in  the 
power  of  the  employer,  and  only  allowed  the  Union  to  step 
in  and  defend  his  interests  once  a  year,  instead  of  every 
minute.  And  apart  from  the  system  of  short  contracts, 
which  does  not  necessarily  mean  transient  ties,  there  was  a 
cause  for  separation  between  employer  and  workmen  in  the 
very  constitution  of  modem  industrial  life — with  its  rapid 
migration  of  men  from  occupation  to  occupation,  and  from 
place  to  place.  This  is  most  conspicuous  in  a  new  country 
like  America,  where  the  whole  staff  of  a  cotton  factory  is 
sometimes  changed  in  three  years,  and  where  the  western 
farmer,  hiring  labourers  for  the  season,  seldom  sees  the  same 
faces  a  second  time.  How  could  personal  bonds  exist  under 
such  conditions  as  these  ?  Not  only,  moreover,  did  the 
workman  become  more  and  more  divided  from  his  employer ; 
he  had,  as  De  Tocqueville  long  ago  pointed  out,  become 
more  and  more  unlike  him.  The  modem  capitalist  under- 
stands nothing  of  the  details  of  his  business.  He  leaves  the 
management  of  his  factory  and  the  engagement  and  dis- 
charge of  his  men  to  a  subordinate,  lives  in  a  mansion  far 
away  from  the  works,  and  knows  nothing  of,  cares  nothing 
for,  the  condition  of  his  workpeople.  Frequently  the 
employer  is  not  an  individual  but  a  company  ;  and  towards 
a  company  at  any  rate  warm  personal  attachment  is 
impossible. 

As  the  result  of  all  these  changes,  the  workman,  divided 
from  his  employer  and  receiving  from  him  no  benefits, 
regarded  him  from  a  distance  with  hatred  and  suspicion,  as 
the  member  of  a  dominant  class.  The  employer  divided 
from  his  workman  and  conferring  upon  him  no  benefit, 
looked  upon  him  uneasily  as  the  member  of  a  subject 
class  claiming  a  dangerous  independence.     The  gulf  be- 


214       INDUSTRY  AND  DEMOCRACY 

tween  the  two  classes  seemed,  and  to  many  still  seems, 
impassable. 

It  is  not  impassable — it  is  bridged  by  Democracy,  which, 
by  making  workmen  and  employers  equal,  makes  union 
possible. 

You  will  ask  at  once — Where  is  this  union  visible  ?  I 
answer,  that  the  conditions  of  union — the  altered  disposition 
of  both  classes  towards  each  other,  the  changed  tone  of  the 
public  press  on  industrial  questions,  are  visible  everywhere  j 
and  if  I  cannot  point  to  many  actual  unions  of  workmen 
and  employers,  there  is  one  plain  and  palpable  instance 
which  is  of  extreme  significance.  I  mean  the  Boards  of 
Conciliation  established  at  Nottingham  and  other  towns 
which  are  not,  like  many  other  schemes,  artificial  expedients 
of  the  hour,  but  the  outgrowth  of  a  long  history  based 
upon  a  great  principle — the  full,  ungrudging  recognition  by 
the  employer  of  the  workman's  equality  and  independence. 

It  is  not  difficult  to  show  how  completely  Boards  of 
Conciliation  rest  upon  this  principle.  An  equal  number  of 
workmen  and  employers,  elected  by  their  respective  classes, 
sit  intermixed  at  the  same  table,  and  discuss  questions  of 
wages,  and  everything  connected  with  the  interests  of  the 
trade.  The  expenses  are  borne  equally  by  both  sides. 
What  is  the  principle  involved  may  be  most  clearly  seen 
if  we  turn  to  Mr.  Mundella's  description  of  the  opposition 
he  encountered  in  establishing  such  boards  at  Nottingham 
and  elsewhere.  '  My  obstacle,  my  difficulty  whenever  I  go 
to  get  a  board  formed,'  he  complained, '  is  that  masters  have 
that  old  feudal  notion,  they  will  deal  with  their  men  one  at 
a  time :  they  expect  the  men  to  give  up  the  advantages  of 
association;  and  until  the  masters  acknowledge  that  the 
men  are  right  in  associating  there  is  no  chance,  I  think,  of 
peace.'  Then  some  employers,  he  found,  thought  it  would 
degrade  them  to  sit  at  the  same  table  with  their  men. 
Next  there  was  suspicion  on  both  sides.  *  It  is  impossible 
to  describe  to  you,'  said  Mr.  Mundella  to  the  Trades-Union 
Commissioners, '  how  suspiciously  we  looked  at  each  other.' 
Finally  the  principle  flashes  full  upon  us  in  Mr.  Mundella's 
statement  of  his  own  attitude.  'We  consider  in  buying 
labour  we  should  treat  the  seller  of  labour  just  as  courteously 


INDUSTRY  AND  DEMOCRACY  215 

as  the  seller  of  coal  or  cotton.'  That  is  the  point ;  that  is 
the  solution.  Democracy  transforms  disputes  about  wages 
from  social  feuds  into  business  bargains.  It  sweeps  away 
the  estranging  class  elements  of  suspicion,  arrogance,  and 
jealousy,  and  freeing  the  pent-up  economic  elements  whose 
natural  tendency  is  not  towards  division,  it  enables  work- 
men and  employers  to  take  the  first  step  to  unite. 

But  how  hard  to  admit  that  this  is  the  solution !  How 
reluctant  we  are  to  confess  that  questions  of  wages — 
questions  which  afifect  the  comfort,  nay  the  whole  life-status, 
the  health,  the  happiness  of  thousands  of  families — that 
these  questions  should  be  treated  like  questions  about  coal 
and  cotton.  How  tempting  to  bend  over  the  faded  past 
with  its  kindly  protection  and  willing  dependence !  Even 
Mr.  Mundella  himself,  the  originator  of  Boards  of  Concilia- 
tion, cannot  help  giving  a  pathetic,  backward  glance  at  the 
old  industriad  conditions — 'we  employ  thousands;  we  do 
not  know  their  faces,  they  are  hands  to  us,  they  are  not 
men.*  For  the  moment  he  forgot  that  what  the  employer 
buys  is  the  workman's  hands  and  not  his  life;  that 
his  life  is  now  his  own,  to  be  cherished  in  a  noble  inde- 
pendence. 

The  old  system  is  gone  never  to  return.  The  separation 
lamented  by  Carlyle  was  inevitable :  but  we  can  now  see 
that  it  was  not  wholly  evil.  A  terrible  interval  of  suffering 
there  was  indeed  when  the  workman,  flung  off  by  his  master, 
had  not  yet  found  his  feet :  but  that  is  passing  away,  and 
the  separation  is  recognised  as  a  necessary  moment  in  that 
industrial  progress  which  enabled  the  workman  to  take  a 
new  step  in  advance.  The  detested  cash-nexus  was  a  sign, 
not  of  dissolution  but  of  growth;  not  of  the  workman's 
isolation,  but  of  his  independence.  If,  however,  Cajlyle 
was  mistaken  in  denouncing  the  revolution,  he  was  right  in 
proclaiming  that  isolation  is  not  the  permanent  condition 
of  human  life.  If  history  teaches  us  that  separation  is 
necessary,  it  also  teaches  us  that  permanent  separation  is 
impossible.  The  law  of  progress  is  that  men  separate — but 
they  separate  in  order  to  unite.  The  old  union  vanishes, 
but  a  new  union  springs  up  in  its  place.  The  old  union 
founded  on  the  dependence  of  the  workman  disappears — a 


216  INDUSTEY  AND  DEMOCRACY 

new  union  arises  based  on  the  workman's  independence. 
And  the  new  union  is  deeper  and  wider  than  the  old.  For 
workman  and  employer  parted  as  protector  and  dependant 
to  unite  as  equal  citizens  of  a  free  state. 

Democracy  makes  union  possible — creates  its  initial  con- 
ditions— but  a  profounder  and  more  delicate  power  can 
alone  make  it  an  enduring  fact  of  social  life.  Though  it  is 
a  mistake  to  attempt  to  bring  back  the  old  moral  relations 
which  were  the  product  of  past  social  conditions,  it  is 
equally  a  mistake  to  assert  that  questions  of  wages  can 
be  treated  as  business  bargains  and  nothing  more.  In  spite 
of  a  fundamental  identity  of  interest  between  employers 
and  workmen  revealed  by  the  subsidence  of  social  strife, 
there  always  will  be,  there  always  must  be,  antagon- 
isms of  interest;  and  these  can  only  be  met  by  moral 
ideas  appropriate  not  to  the  feudal,  but  to  the  citizen, 
stage.  Men's  rights  will  clash,  and  the  reconciliation  must 
come  through  a  higher  gospel  than  the  gospel  of  rights 
— the  gospel  of  duty ;  that  gospel  which  Mazzini  lived  to 
proclaim ;  for  not  Adam  Smith,  not  Carlyle,  great  as  he  was, 
but  Mazzini  is  the  true  teacher  of  our  age.  He,  like 
Carlyle,  wrote  a  great  book,  The  Duties  of  Man,  which  is 
the  most  simple  and  passionate  statement  published  in  this 
century  of  man's  duties  to  God  and  his  fellows.  Mazzini 
was  a  democrat  who  spent  his  life  in  struggling  to  free  his 
country ;  but  he  believed  in  liberty  not  as  an  end  but  as  a 
means — a  means  to  a  purer  and  nobler  life  for  the  whole 
people.  The  time  has  come  to  preach  this  gospel:  not 
because  it  is  not  always  true,  but  because  there  are  social 
conditions  in  which  it  is  little  better  than  a  mockery  to 
preach  it.  How  could  you  preach  duty  to  men  who  were 
conscious  that  they  had  not  their  rights  ?  '  Who  made  it  ? ' 
said  workmen  speaking  of  the  old  law  of  master  and  servant. 
'  Not  we ;  we  had  no  hand  in  making  it ;  it  was  made  by 
those  who  employ  us,  and  by  those  who  govern  us.'  But 
now  that  law  has  been  repealed;  and  the  bitter  sense  of 
injustice  is  gone.  Democracy,  to  be  praised  for  many  things, 
is  most  to  be  praised  for  this :  that  it  has  made  it  possible, 
without  shame  or  reluctance,  to  preach  the  gospel  of  duty  to 
the  whole  people. 


INDUSTRY  AND  DEMOCRACY  217 

I  have  not  come  to  preach  that  gospel  to-night;  but 
before  I  sit  down,  I  would  venture,  from  this  long  historical 
review,  to  draw  a  single  practical  conclusion.  It  is  this; 
that  we  should  do  all  that  in  us  lies  to  establish  Boards  of 
Conciliation  in  every  trade  when  the  circumstances — 
economic  or  moral — are  not  entirely  unfavourable.  I  know 
it  is  not  easy  to  form  them ;  and  that  it  is  difficult  to  main- 
tain them  may  be  learned  in  Nottingham  at  the  present 
time.  But,  notwithstanding  failures  and  obstacles,  I  believe 
these  Boards  wiU  last :  and  more  than  that,  I  believe  that 
they  have  in  them  the  possibilities  of  a  great  future.  If  I 
might  trust  myself  on  the  unsure  ground  of  prediction  I 
would  point  out  that  Boards  of  Conciliation  may  grow  into 
permanent  councils  of  employers  and  workmen,  which, — 
thrusting  into  the  background,  but  not  superseding  Trades- 
Unions  and  Masters'  Associations — for  these  must  long 
remain  as  weapons  in  case  of  a  last  appeal  to  force, — should, 
in  the  light  of  the  principles  of  social  and  industrial  science, 
deal  with  those  great  problems  of  the  fluctuations  of  wages, 
of  over-production  and  the  regulation  of  trade,  which  work- 
men and  employers  together  alone  can  settle.  However 
remote  such  a  consummation  may  appear — and  to  many  it 
must  seem  remote  indeed — of  this  I  am  convinced,  that  it  is 
no  dream,  but  a  reasonable  hope,  born  of  patient  historical 
survey  and  sober  faith  in  man's  higher  nature.  And  it  is 
reasonable  above  all  in  England,  where,  owing  to  a  con- 
tinuous, unbroken  history,  some  sentiment  of  mutual  obliga- 
tion between  classes  survives  the  dissolution  of  the  ancient 
social  system. 

It  is  true  indeed  that,  as  we  move  in  the  chill  and 
tedious  round  of  daily  work,  this  hope  will  sometimes  seem 
to  us  a  dream.  History  will  grow  dim,  faith  wiU  die, 
and  we  shall  see  before  us,  not  the  fellow-citizen,  but  the 
obstinate,  suspicious  workman,  the  hard,  grasping  employer. 
Yet  let  us  remember,  even  in  these  moments  of  depression, 
that  there  never  has  been  a  time  when  such  union  between 
classes  has  been  so  possible  as  it  is  to-day  or  soon  will 
become.  For  not  only  has  the  law  given  to  workman  and 
employer  equality  of  rights,  but  education  bids  fair  to  give 
them  equality  of  culture.    We  are  all  now,  workmen  as  well 


218  INDUSTRY  AND  DEMOCRACY 

as  employers,  inhabitants  of  a  larger  world;  no  longer 
members  of  a  single  class,  but  fellow-citizens  of  one  great 
people :  no  longer  the  poor  recipients  of  a  class  tradition, 
but  heirs  of  a  nation's  history.  Nay  more,  we  are  no  longer 
citizens  of  a  single  nation,  we  are  participators  in  the  life 
of  mankind,  and  joint-heirs  of  the  world's  inheritance. 
Strengthened  by  this  wider  communion  and  ennobled  by 
this  vaster  heritage,  shall  we  not  trample  under  foot  the 
passions  that  divide,  and  pass  united  through  the  invisible 
portals  of  a  new  age  to  inaugurate  a  new  life  ? 


AEE  RADICALS  SOCIALISTS  ?  219 


III 

ARE  RADICALS   SOCIALISTS  T^ 

When  I  had  the  honour  of  speaking  at  Newcastle  last 
year,  I  ventured  to  explain  that  I  was  not  a  politician,  but 
a  student;  and  though  the  subject  with  which  I  have 
undertaken  to  deal  is  a  political  one,  it  is  still  as  a  student 
that  I  wish  to  address  you  to-night  It  may  be  asked  what 
business  a  student  has  to  meddle  with  political  questions  in 
a  town  like  Newcastle,  which  is  so  great  a  centre  of  political 
activity  and  intelligence.  I  acknowledge  the  weight  of  the 
objection,  and  confess  that  it  was  not  without  hesitation, 
and  even  fear,  that  I  resolved  to  approach  so  formidable  a 
subject  before  so  formidable  an  audience;  for  I  had  to 
consider  not  only  the  character  of  my  audience,  but  that  of 
my  subject — a  subject  full  of  snares  and  pitfalls  for  a  person 
without  political  experience.  I  felt  also  that  I  lacked  that 
minute  acquaintance  with  the  actual  course  of  political 
affairs  which  is  necessary  to  give  reality  and  appropriate- 
ness to  political  utterance.  Nevertheless  I  determined  to 
face  my  difficulties;  for  I  am  convinced  that,  however 
deficient  in  many  respects  he  may  be,  a  student  who  is 
not  devoid  of  the  interest  and  passion  of  a  citizen,  ought 
to  be  able  to  contribute  something  towards  the  solution  of 
such  a  question  as  I  propose. 

The  times  are  troubled,  old  political  faiths  are  shaken, 
and  the  overwhelming  exigencies  of  the  moment  leave  but 
small  breathing-space  for  statesmen  to  examine  the  prin- 
ciples on  which  they  found  their  practice.  The  result  has 
been  that  startling  legislative  measures,  dictated  by  neces- 
sity— with  which  no  compact  is  to  be  made — have  been 

'  Thia  addreta  was  delivered  in  the  earlier  part  of  1882  to  aadiencea  of 
workmen  and  employers  at  Newcastle,  Bradford,  Boltoo,  and  Leicester. 


220  ARE  RADICALS  SOCIALISTS  t 

defended  by  arguments  in  sharp  contradiction  to  the  ancient 
principles  of  those  who  have  pressed  these  arguments  into 
their  service.  I  think  this  contradiction  is  undeniable.  It 
is  asserted  in  connection  with  the  support  given  by  Radicals 
to  recent  Acts  of  Parliament,  not  only  by  enraged  political 
opponents,  but  by  adherents  of  the  Radical  and  Liberal 
party  who  have  refused  to  abandon  their  allegiance  to  their 
former  principles.  The  gravest  of  the  charges  brought 
against  Radicals  is  the  charge  of  Socialism,  a  system  which 
in  the  past  they  strained  every  nerve  to  oppose.  Accusa- 
tions of  Socialism  are  common  enough;  the  Times  once 
accused  Mr.  Cobden  of  inciting  the  peasants  to  seize  the 
land  and  divide  it  in  small  pieces  among  themselves,  because 
he  advocated  the  abolition  of  entail  and  primogeniture ; 
but  on  the  present  occasion  the  accusation  has  been  made 
with  a  definiteness  and  elaboration  that  render  it  worthy  of 
patient  examination.  It  is  not  a  wholesome  state  of  things 
that  a  great  party  should  be  in  doubt — as  I  think  I  am 
justified  in  saying  certain  sections  of  the  Radical  party  are 
— as  to  the  principles  by  which  it  is  guided.  A  great  party 
which  is  uncertain  as  to  its  principles  ceases  to  be  a  party, 
and  becomes  an  aggregate  of  factions  without  vigour  or 
coherence. 

I  propose  in  this  address  first  of  all  to  show  what  the 
old  Radical  creed  was  which  we  are  accused  of  silently 
deserting;  next,  to  state  the  opinions  to  which  it  was 
opposed;  and  finally,  to  explain  what  changes  this  creed 
has  undergone  by  the  adoption  of  some  of  its  opponents' 
principles  under  the  pressure  of  external  circumstances. 

I  shall  carry  you  back  forty  years  to  a  time  of  great 
national  calamity,  and  seek  to  ascertain  what  Radical  prin- 
ciples were  at  that  time.  I  go  back  thus  far  for  two  reasons ; 
first,  because  at  that  distance  we  shall  be  able  to  find 
Radical  principles  in  their  original  purity;  and,  secondly, 
because  a  period  of  national  distress  is  a  period  in  which 
opinions  get  sharply  and  clearly  stated,  and  men  are  forced 
to  ascend  to  the  fountain-head,  in  order  to  see  if  their 
principles  are  adequate  to  the  necessities  of  the  time.  The 
old  Radical  creed  may  be  summed  up  in  tliree  words — 
justice,  liberty,  and  self-help.    To  obtain  justice  and  liberty 


ARE  RADICALS  SOCIALISTS  t  221 

they  believed  all  classes  should  be  admitted  to  the  suffrage ; 
to  promote  self-reliance  they  believed  that  every  restriction 
on  trade  should  be  abolished,  that  labour  and  commerce 
should  be  as  free  as  the  winds.  Two  things  are  observable 
in  this  creed,  the  intense  dislike  of  the  old  Radicals  to  State 
interference,  and  their  complete  faith  in  the  people.  Others 
might  fear,  they  trusted  the  people ;  and  notliing  shook  this 
faith, — not  the  wild  cries  of  starving  multitudes,  not  ignorant 
tumults,  not  violence.  Nor  was  their  staunch  belief  in  the 
power  of  the  people  to  help  themselves  ever  weakened ; 
nothing  changed  it,  not  even  revelations  of  hideous  suffering 
and  degradation  amongst  the  poorest  and  weakest  of  the 
labouring  classes. 

There  was  much  to  upset  their  confidence  in  both  liberty 
and  self-help  in  the  circumstances  of  that  dreadful  time 
before  the  repeal  of  the  Corn-Laws,  a  time  which  can  no 
more  be  compared  to  the  period  of  distress  through  which 
we  are  just  now  passing,  than  the  sleet  and  hail  of  a  winter 
hurricane  can  be  compared  to  a  summer  shower.  A  full 
description  of  its  misery  is  impossible  in  the  time  I  have 
at  my  command ;  but  I  can  tell  you  enough  to  make  you 
understand  the  need  that  all  political  parties  felt  to  do 
something  to  save  the  people. 

This  was  the  state  of  the  great  towns:  in  Manchester 
12,000  families  were  supported  by  charity;  2000  families 
were  without  a  bed;  5492  houses  were  shut  up,  and  116 
mills  and  workshops  idle ;  and  it  was  calculated  that  there 
were  8666  persons  whose  weekly  income  was  not  14Jd. 
each.  In  Stockport,  so  many  houses  were  untenanted,  that 
a  wag  chalked  up  on  a  shutter, '  Stockport  to  let ! '  There 
may  be  persons  still  living  in  Bolton  who  can  remember  a 
letter  written  by  Colonel  Thompson,  to  a  paper  now  defunct. 
The  Sun,  in  which  he  described  what  he  called  the  siege  of 
Bolton.  In  the  year  1842  he  said:  'Have  you  ever  seen 
a  pennyworth  of  mutton  ?  Come  to  Bolton  and  see  how 
rations  are  dealt  out  under  the  landlord's  siege'  (he  was 
alluding  to  the  Corn-Laws).  'A  pennyworth  of  mutton 
might  bait  a  rat  trap ;  but  a  well-fed  rat  would  not  risk  his 
personality  for  such  a  pittance.'  Pennyworths  of  mutton 
and  half-pennyworths  of  bread,  that  was  the  way  in  which 


222  ARE  RADICALS  SOCIALISTS  t 

the  shopkeepers  sold  their  goods  to  the  inhabitants  in  the 
time  of  Colonel  Thompson,  who  went  about  Bolton  visiting 
the  houses  of  the  poor  in  company  with  Mr.  Ashworth. 
One  of  the  lecturers  of  the  Anti-Corn- Law  League  reported 
at  the  time  that  out  of  fifty  mills  in  Bolton  thirty  were  idle, 
or  only  working  four  days  a  week,  and  there  were  7000 
people  in  Bolton  whose  average  income  per  head  was  not 
much  more  than  Is.  a  week.  There  were  1500  houses 
empty  at  this  time.  In  Leicester  one-third  of  the  workmen 
in  the  hosiery  trade  are  said  to  have  been  out  of  employ- 
ment. At  the  same  time  the  population  was  huddled 
together  in  these  towns  in  filthy  dens  like  wild  animals, 
and  women  worked  like  beasts  of  burden  in  the  mines. 
The  country  labourers  were  almost  worse  off  than  the 
weavers  of  the  towns ;  they  famished  in  their  dark  hovels ; 
no  wonder  that  the  skies  were  reddened  by  the  flames  of 
burning  ricks.  Not  only  was  there  distress,  but  there  was 
tumult  and  anger  amongst  the  people,  the  like  of  which 
we  have  not  seen  since.  On  the  Lancashire  and  Yorkshire 
moors  torch-light  meetings  were  held  and  addressed  by 
angry  and  vehement  orators,  who  uttered  deep  threats,  and 
incited  the  people  to  take  up  arms  for  vengeance.  And  not 
only  were  the  poor  excited,  but  men  who  by  their  position 
were  secure  against  want  were  driven  to  despair ;  to  them 
also  everything  seemed  too  late  and  revolution  at  hand,  so 
terrible  was  the  distress,  the  suffering,  and  the  bewilderment 
of  that  period. 

What  were  the  remedies  proposed  by  the  different  parties 
of  the  day  ?  What  did  the  Radicals,  mej\  like  Joseph 
Hume,  Sir  William  Molesworth,  Cobden,  Bright,  Fox,  and 
Villiers  propose  ?  They  said, '  Repeal  the  Corn-Laws,  and 
then  all  the  rest  will  come — you  will  then  have  cheap 
bread  and  steady  prices.'  The  Corn-Laws,  which  sent  the 
quartern  loaf  up  to  Is.  lOd.,  they  declared  to  be  at  the  root 
of  the  evil.  But  the  working  men,  curiously  enough,  were 
not  eager  in  their  support  of  the  Anti-Corn-Law  League. 
They  did  not  deny  that  the  Corn-Laws  were  bad ;  but  they 
said  the  Corn-Laws  were  only  a  bad  part  of  a  bad  system. 
What  they  wanted  was  to  get  rid  of  the  bad  system ;  and 
in  order  to  do  this  the  working  man  must  have  the  suffrage. 


ARE  RADICALS  SOCIALISTS  1  223 

The  working-class  Radicals,  such  men  as  William  Lovett, 
Henry  Heatherington,  and  James  Watson,  set  their  hearts 
on  a  political  measure,  and  demanded  the  passing  of  their 
Charter,  including  the  ballot,  electoral  districts,  annual 
parliaments,  manhood  suffrage,  payment  of  members,  and 
the  abolition  of  the  property  qualification.  There  were 
those  who  said  that  the  cry  for  cheap  bread  only  meant 
low  wages,  and  those  who  held  this  view  went  to  the 
meetings  of  the  Anti-Corn-Law  League  and  tried  to  break 
them  up.  Ultimately  the  League  triumphed ;  but  Cobden 
himself  admitted  that  the  workmen  never  heartily  joined 
in  the  agitation.  On  the  other  hand,  many  of  the  middle- 
class  Radicals  supported  the  Charter,  only  they  were 
convinced  that  the  first  thing  to  do  was  to  repeal  the 
Corn-Laws.  This  the  Chartists  denied.  Lovett  said, '  The 
Corn-Laws,  though  highly  mischievous,  are  only  one  of  the 
effects  of  the  great  curse  we  are  seeking  to  remove,  and  in 
justice  we  think  the  question  of  their  repeal  ought  to  be 
argued  by  the  representatives  of  all  the  people.'  Others 
denounced  the  Anti-Com-Law  movement  as  a  middle-class 
manceuvre:  Thomas  Cooper  spoke  thus:  'If  you  give  up 
your  agitation  for  the  Charter  to  help  the  Free-traders, 
they  will  not  help  you  to  get  the  Charter.  Don't  be 
deceived  by  the  middle-classes  again.  You  helped  them 
to  get  their  votes.  You  swelled  their  cry  of  "  the  Bill,  the 
whole  Bill,  and  nothing  but  the  Bill,"  but  where  are  the 
fine  promises  they  made  you  ?  Gone  to  the  winds ! — and 
now  they  want  to  get  the  Corn-Laws  repealed,  not  for  your 
benefit,  but  for  their  own.  Cheap  bread  they  cry,  but  they 
mean  low  wages.  Do  not  listen  to  their  cant  and  humbug. 
Stick  to  your  Charter,  you  are  veritable  slaves  without 
your  votes.'  It  is  a  mistake,  however,  to  suppose  that  the 
genuine  Chartists,  men  like  Lovett,  Heatherington,  and 
Watson,  had  a  mere  blind  belief  in  the  suffrage ;  nothing 
is  more  striking  than  the  intelligence  of  their  manifestoes ; 
they  argued  on  the  true  ground,  '  We  cannot  get  justice 
until  every  class  is  represented  in  the  State.'  Neither  were 
these  men  advocates  of  violence,  for  though  they  were 
willing  to  frighten  the  middle-class  they  were  not  prepared 
to  hurt  them.    Their  real  position  was  vividly  put  by  a 


224  ARE  RADICALS  SOCIALISTS? 

Scotch  Chartist — '  We  must  shake  our  oppressors  well  over 
hell's  mouth,  but  not  let  them  drop  in ! ' 

But  though  the  genuine  Chartists  repudiated  violence, 
they  were  displaced  by  Feargus  O'Connor  and  his  physical 
force  Chartists,  who  openly  advocated  it.  The  opinions  of 
these  men  are  of  little  interest,  but  associated  with  them 
were  men  whose  opinions  are  of  great  importance ;  I  mean, 
Joseph  Eaynor  Stephens  and  Richard  Oastler,  the  *  Factory 
King,'  whose  opinions  were  again  closely  allied  to  those  of 
a  distinguished  man  who  had  died  a  few  years  before,  M.  T. 
Sadler,  one  of  the  most  benevolent  and  self-devoted  of 
citizens.  The  number  of  these  men  was  small,  but  their 
popular  influence  was  immense.  Stephens  and  Oastler, 
though  acting  with  the  Chartists,  denied  that  they  them- 
selves belonged  to  that  body.  Both  were  orators  of  great 
power.  They  insisted  that  the  ancient  constitution  of  the 
realm,  and  the  laws  as  they  were,  were  sufficient  to  meet 
the  difficulties  of  the  time;  they  exalted  the  throne,  and 
declared  the  powers  that  be  to  be  ordained  of  God.  But 
whilst  denying  and  attacking  the  Radical  doctrine  that 
political  power  should  be  confided  to  the  people,  they 
insisted  that  the  Queen  and  her  Parliament  should  protect 
and  succour  the  people.  They  believed  that  the  poor  must 
be  dependent  for  much  of  the  comforts  and  necessaries  of 
life  upon  the  rich  and  the  powerful,  and  were  unsparing  in 
their  invective  against  those  who  neglected  the  people. 
Because  the  poor  were  weak  and  helpless  they  asserted 
that  not  only  was  it  the  duty  of  the  rich  to  help  them,  but 
that  the  poor  had  a  right  to  help,  had  a  claim  on  the 
national  wealth  independent  of  individual  merit  or  virtue. 
These  men  made  assertions  which  were  really  as  dangerous 
as  any  ever  made  in  England.  In  one  of  Stephens'  speeches 
he  said,  'The  man  who  is  without  a  home  has  a  quarrel 
with  society.  A  man  who  has  no  home,  or  a  home  which 
is  not  what  God  intended  it  to  be,  that  man  is  robbed.' 
Oastler  also  said,  *  If  you  take  away  the  industrious  poor 
man's  right  to  relief  (he  was  speaking  of  the  old  poor-law) 
'  all  other  advantages  crumble  into  dust  and  become  worth- 
less.' Now,  if  you  examine  these  statements  closely,  you 
will  find  they  amount  to  this :  an  assertion  of  an  uncondi- 


ARE  RADICALS  SOCIALISTS  t  225 

tional  claim  on  the  part  of  the  people  to  an  indefinite  share 
in  the  national  wealth,  which  is,  to  say  the  least,  a  most 
pernicious  doctrine.  It  is  to  maintain  that  everj'  individual 
has  a  right  to  a  share  in  other  men's  wealth,  that  is,  that 
your  property  and  mine  is  not  ours  absolutely,  but  the 
beggar  and  the  pauper  have  a  right  to  a  part  of  it.  These 
men  were  sometimes  called  Tory  Chartists,  but  they  ought 
to  have  been  called  Tory  Socialists,  for  their  doctrine  was 
Socialism  in  the  most  unmistakable  form.  The  occasion  of 
these  wild  assertions  was  the  agitation  against  the  new 
Poor  Law  of  1834,  which  was,  although  now  forgotten, 
certainly  a  more  popular  agitation  than  that  carried  on  by 
the  Anti-Corn-Law  League.  The  new  Poor  Law,  while  not 
denying  the  right  to  relief,  had  attached  stringent  conditions 
to  the  receipt  of  it,  had,  in  fact,  made  the  relief  conditional 
in  many  cases  on  entering  the  workhouse — on  imprisonment 
in  a  Bastille,  as  Stephens  and  Oastler  called  it.  The  old 
Poor  Law  had  given  relief  without  conditions,  and  had 
completely  demoralised  the  people.  Any  one  who  asked 
for  relief  could  get  it,  in  any  form  he  liked,  with  the  result 
that  the  burden  on  the  land  had  become  so  terrible  that  we 
read  of  one  parish  in  Buckinghamshire  where  nearly  the 
whole  of  the  land  had  gone  out  of  cultivation ;  and  with  a 
still  worse  effect  upon  the  people.  Family  affection  was 
stamped  out,  mothers  threatened  to  leave  their  children  out 
of  doors  if  they  were  not  paid  for  keeping  them,  children 
deserted  their  bed-ridden  parents.  Under  this  regime  the 
idle  were  confounded  with  the  honest  poor,  and  the  Poor 
Law  was  well  described  at  the  time  as  a  national  institution 
for  the  encouragement  of  vice  and  idleness  and  the  dis- 
couragement of  honesty  and  thrift 

Although  unsuccessful  in  their  fierce  attacks  upon  the 
new  Poor  Law,  Oastler  and  Stephens  carried  on  successfully 
the  agitation  for  the  Ten  Hours'  BiU.  And  they  conducted 
this  agitation  on  the  same  principle  as  the  first  one — that 
there  were  certain  members  of  society  who,  being  unable  to 
protect  themselves,  had  a  right  to  the  protection  of  the 
State.  It  is  a  remarkable  thing  that  these  opinions  were 
held  also  by  rich  men,by  landowners  and  capitalists;  they  were 
held  by  one  man  who  afterwards  became  Prime  Minister  of 


226  ARE  RADICALS  SOCIALISTS! 

England.  "VVe  are  not  accustomed  to  call  Lord  Beaconsfield 
a  Socialist,  but  I  think  we  may  apply  the  title  to  his  lord- 
ship without  injustice.  Let  me  show  you  what  I  mean. 
Lord  Beaconsfield  was  in  the  habit  of  expressing  his  political 
opinions  not  in  pamphlets  but  in  novels;  and  about  this 
time  he  published  his  Sybil,  in  which  is  contained  a  de- 
scription of  the  Chartist  movement,  and  in  which  an 
opinion  exactly  on  all-fours  with  those  of  Oastler  and 
Stephens  is  expressed.  He  writes,  'The  people  are  not 
strong ;  the  people  never  can  be  strong.  Their  attempts  at 
self-vindication  will  end  only  in  their  suffering  and  con- 
fusion,' and  then  he  goes  on  to  show  how  people  must  rely 
on  an  aristocracy  who '  are  the  natural  leaders  of  the  people.' 
Some  think  Lord  Beaconsfield  was  not  sincere,  but  I  think 
he  was,  and  his  opinion  as  to  the  condition  of  the  people  and 
as  to  the  state  of  political  opinion  in  1845  is  of  great  import- 
ance. Lord  Beaconsfield's  practical  proposals  were,  however, 
very  curious,  if  all  he  could  suggest  was  that  the  landowners 
should  set  up  the  Maypole  once  more  on  the  village  greens ; 
that  they  should  revive  the  old  English  sports;  and  that 
they  should  join  with  the  peasantry  in  these  sports. 

I  have  called  Stephens  and  Oastler  Socialists,  and  have 
hinted  at  the  connection  between  their  views  and  those  of 
Disraeli — and  indeed  those  of  a  far  deeper  thinker  than 
Disraeli,  Thomas  Carlyle,  were  in  substance  the  same — but 
there  was  another  body  of  men  who  deliberately  adopted 
the  title  of  Socialists — Robert  Owen  and  his  followers. 
These  men  did  not  agree  with  either  the  Chartists  or  the 
Anti-Corn-Law  League.  They  scoffed  at  political  remedies 
for  bettering  the  condition  of  the  people,  declaring  that 
what  was  required  were  social  changes.  'The  Chartists,' 
wrote  Owen  in  his  Rational  System  of  Society,  'have  been 
and  now  are  beating  the  air,  or,  like  Don  Quixote,  fighting 
with  windmills';  political  changes  are  useless  'that  do  not 
at  the  same  time  effect  social  changes.'  The  evil,  according 
to  Owen,  was  competition  and  the  struggle  for  existence ; 
his  plan  was  to  substitute  association  and  brotherhood  for 
competition.  His  practical  scheme  was  to  found  what  he 
called  Home  Colonies,  associations  of  about  2000  or  2500, 
who  should  have  property  in  common,  who  should  work  in 


ARE  RADICALS  SOCIALISTS  t  227 

common,  and  amongst  whom  the  produce  should  be  divided 
equally.  Owen  neither  wished  to  use  force  nor  to  confiscate 
property ;  he  hoped  gradually  to  transform  society  by  the 
silent  force  of  example.  Socialism  with  him  meant  not 
that  the  poor  had  a  claim  on  the  wealth  of  the  rich,  but 
voluntary  associated  life  with  common  property  and  equal 
division  of  wealth.  Some  of  his  colonies  were  actually 
founded,  but  ended  in  failure.  Owen,  nevertheless,  should 
be  remembered  as  the  first  great  English  Socialist,  and  as 
a  man  v.ho  has  exercised  immense  influence  on  English 
institutions. 

I  have  described  thus  briefly  the  Radical  creed  and  the 
opinions  to  which  it  was  opposed-  Now,  what  was  the 
answer  which  the  middle-class  Radicals,  Joseph  Hume,  Mill, 
Bright,  and  Cobden,  gave  to  the  various  parties  who  opposed 
them  ?  Robert  Owen  they  ignored.  To  the  Tory  Socialists 
they  declared : '  Your  system  of  patronage  and  of  patriarchal 
government  is  now  physically  impossible.  Newspapers, 
railways,  great  cities,  have  made  the  workman  independent. 
The  old  system  may  linger  on  a  while  in  country  districts, 
but  its  extinction  is  only  a  question  of  time.  You  are 
trying  to  revive  the  habits  and  relations  of  a  bygone  age ; 
but  the  workmen  having  once  tasted  the  sweets  of  inde- 
pendence, will  never  go  back  into  dependence.'  A  still 
more  trenchant  reply  to  the  Tory  Socialists  was  given  when 
the  Radicals  turned  on  the  landowners  and  those  who 
supported  them,  and  said,  '  Who  are  you  who  are  coming 
forward  as  the  protectors  of  the  people  ?  Why,  you 
are  the  very  men  who  have  robbed  and  injured  the  people 
by  the  Corn-Laws.  If  you  wish  to  prove  your  sincerity, 
repeal  the  Corn  and  Grame  laws.  What  a  suffering  people 
requires  is  not  benevolence,  but  justice.'  To  the  Chartists 
their  answer  was, '  We  agree  with  you,  we  think  you  ought 
to  have  the  suffrage;  but  you  know  very  well  that  you 
cannot  get  the  suffrage  except  by  violence.  You  know  that 
the  great  bulk  of  the  middle-class  are  not  sufficiently  intel- 
ligent to  grant  you  the  suffrage ;  and  the  only  thing  for  you 
to  do  is  to  join  us  in  getting  the  repeal  of  the  Corn  Laws, 
and  when  we  have  done  that,  we  will  unite,  and  ultimately 
obtain  the  suffrage  for  you.'    Bright  added, '  The  principles 


228  ARE  RADICALS  SOCIALISTS  t 

of  the  Charter  will  one  day  be  established,  but  years  may 
pass  over,  months  must  pass  over,  before  that  day  arrives.' 

We  all  know  that  the  League  won.  In  1846  the  Corn- 
Laws  were  repealed,  and  much  of  what  the  League  had 
prophesied  came  true.  Cheap  bread  did  not  mean  low 
wages,  as  many  of  the  Chartists  had  supposed,  and  bread 
from  that  time  was  not  only  cheaper  but  steadier.  The 
Chartists  seemed  baffled  and  beaten,  yet  as  time  went  on 
certain  portions  of  the  Charter  were  realised.  The  restlt 
of  the  repeal  of  the  Corn-Laws  and  of  Free-Trade  was  to 
restore  material  prosperity  to  the  people,  while  the  repeal  of 
other  duties,  such  as  the  stamp-duty  on  newspapers,  and  the 
paper  duties,  for  which  Watson  and  Heatherington  struggled, 
brought  knowledge  within  the  reach  of  the  masses.  The 
working  men  obtained  the  suffrage  in  1867,  and  it  is  notice- 
able that  as  soon  as  they  exercised  it,  many  of  those  laws 
which  pressed  most  heavily  on  their  class,  and  which  were 
most  iniquitous,  were  repealed.  The  law  which  made  Trades- 
Unions  illegal  was  repealed  in  1871,  and  the  cruel  law  of 
conspiracy  in  1875.  And  mark  the  effect  on  the  relations 
between  workmen  and  employers.  The  workmen  ceasing 
to  look  upon  the  employers  as  the  authors  of  unjust  laws, 
are  prepared  to  treat  with  them,  and  the  employers,  forced 
by  granting  the  workmen  the  suffrage  to  recognise  their 
independence,  are  in  their  turn  prepared  to  meet  them  as 
equal  citizens  of  a  free  State,  and  the  consequence  is  that, 
with  varying  success.  Boards  of  Conciliation  and  Arbitration 
have  taken  the  place  of  the  brute  method  of  settling  trade 
disputes  by  lock-outs  and  strikes.  The  further  points  of 
the  Charter  which  have  been  obtained  are  the  ballot  and 
the  abolition  of  property  qualification;  some  points  still 
remain  to  be  carried  out.  We  have  yet  to  assimilate  the 
borough  and  county  franchise,  and  to  obtain  free-trade  in 
land.  We  have  yet  to  consider  the  reform  of  the  House  of 
Lords,  or,  some  prefer  to  say,  its  abolition,  and  not  far  off 
looms  the  possibility  of  universal  suffrage. 

But  while  such  measures  as  free- trade  and  the  extension 
of  the  franchise  are  generally  esteemed  great  and  solid 
gains  to  the  community,  while  the  improvement  and  pro- 
sperity to  which  I  have  alluded  is  generally  acknowledged, 


ARE  RADICALS  SOCIALISTS  t  229 

there  are  men  who  watch  the  conrse  of  events  and  draw 
different  conclusions  from  them.  These  are  not  fanatics  nor 
Socialists.  They  are  thinking  men,  and  men  learned  in  the 
economic  history  of  England ;  and  they  see  in  the  history 
of  the  country  for  the  last  forty  years  nothing  but  a  prepara- 
tion for  revolution.  They  confront  us  with  the  declaration 
that  the  very  things  of  which  I  speak,  Free-Trade  and 
Democracy,  are  bringing  society  to  the  verge  of  it.  They 
point  out  that  Free-Trade,  whilst  it  has  made  some  things 
cheaper,  has  also  led  to  a  concentration  of  wealth  into  fewer 
and  fewer  hands,  and  they  say,  '  While  you  have  been  doing 
this  you  have  had  the  extraordinary  audacity  to  diffuse 
political  power.'  Wealth  is  in  the  hands  of  the  few  rich, 
the  suffrage  in  the  hands  of  the  many  poor ;  in  the  concen- 
tration of  wealth  and  the  diffusion  of  political  power  lies 
the  great  danger  of  modern  society.  The  danger  becomes 
every  day  greater,  and  democracy,  which  seemed  to  save 
society,  is  really  destined  to  overturn  it. 

Men  like  Karl  Marx  and  Lassalle,  the  German  Socialists, 
contend  that  it  is  impossible  for  working  men  under  the 
present  conditions  of  private  property  and  competition,  to 
raise  themselves  above  the  level  of  bare  subsistence,  and 
they  say  that  Mr.  Gladstone,  the  present  Prime  Minister, 
has  expressed  the  same  opinion.  Mr.  Gladstone,  in  his 
Budget  speech  of  1864,  after  having  dwelt  on  the  enormous 
growth  of  wealth  in  the  country,  said,  speaking  of  the 
distress  of  the  working  classes  in  the  large  towns, '  What 
is  human  life,  in  the  great  majority  of  instances,  but  a  mere 
struggle  for  existence  V  There  are  some  who  point  to  this 
contradiction  with  grim  satisfaction,  who,  whilst  ridiculing 
what  they  call  political  democracy,  yet  see  in  the  diffusion 
of  political  power  a  means  by  which  a  social  revolution  can 
be  achieved.  Without  this,  they  say,  the  workman  can 
never  better  his  condition,  he  is  a  slave  to  'the  brazen 
law  of  wages.'  They  describe  vividly  the  gradual  rolling 
together  of  huge  masses  of  capital,  whilst  at  its  feet  lie 
masses  of  workmen  living  in  penury  though  in  nominsd 
independence.  In  the  end,  they  say,  the  people  will  arise, 
and  the  present  social  system  with  its  slavery  be  swept 
away.     Some  declare  that  the  ground  beneath  us  is  already 


230  ARE  RADICALS  SOCIALISTS? 

undermined.  Nay,  some  go  further,  and  whisper  that  the 
catastrophe,  if  we  did  but  know  it,  is  at  hand.  I  am 
reminded  of  an  incident  in  the  siege  of  Sebastopol.  One 
calm  moonlight  night  the  sentinels  of  the  allied  armies 
suddenly  saw  a  vast  column  of  smoke  shoot  high  into  the 
air  from  the  Mamelon  Te'wer,  spread  over  the  heavens,  and 
cast  acres  of  black  shadow  over  the  sleeping  camps.  Another 
minute,  and  those  slumbering  hosts  were  aroused  by  the 
roar  and  thunder  of  a  great  explosion.  So  some  keen-eyed 
watchers  believe  that  they  can  see  the  shadow  of  a  great 
convulsion  stealing  over  the  sleeping  nations,  soon  to  bo 
awakened  by  a  crash  that  will  shake  all  Europe. 

Is  the  conclusion  of  the  German  Socialist  a  correct  one  ? 
We  in  England  smile  at  all  this  as  a  mere  dream,  so  remote 
does  revolution  seem  from  our  slow  course  of  even  progress. 
But  if  it  is  remote,  it  is  because  we  in  England  have  taken 
steps  to  modify  the  conditions  which  make  revolutions 
imminent.  If  we  can  rightly  smile  at  such  pictures  it  is 
because  we  have  developed  among  artisans  and  labourers 
vast  voluntary  societies  wielding  masses  of  capital,  and  have 
partially  realised  the  Socialist  programme.  There  are  two 
great  agencies  which  have  been  at  work  in  England  to 
produce  that  result:  First,  those  voluntary  agencies,  the 
result  of  the  self-help  in  which  Radicals  believe;  and 
secondly,  the  action  of  the  State  in  which  Socialists  believe. 

Let  us  see  how  far  the  efforts  of  the  people  themselves 
have  been  sufficient  to  mitigate  that  inequality  of  conditions 
and  of  material  wealth  of  which  the  Socialists  speak.  Let 
us  see  what  the  working  classes,  oppressed  as  they  are 
described  to  be,  have  been  able  to  save.  In  the  savings 
banks  last  year  there  was  £78,000,000,  not  wholly,  but  for 
the  most  part  deposited  by  the  working  classes ;  in  friendly 
societies,  exclusively  working  class  savings,  £12,000,000; 
building  society  investments  amounted  to  £31,000,000;  and 
in  co-operative  societies  there  was  £6,500,000.  Allowing 
for  other  savings  of  which  I  can  obtain  no  estimate  this 
makes  a  total  of  about  £128,000,000, — a  very  large  sum  to 
have  been  saved  by  men  '  struggling  for  existence.'  I  con- 
tend that  if  the  workmen  were  only  able  to  obtain  a  bare 
subsistence  they  would  not  have  been  able  to  save.    Again, 


ARE  RADICALS  SOCIALISTS  t  3S1 

there  are  the  Trades- Unions  formed  for  the  purpose  of  con- 
fronting the  power  of  these  ever-increasing  accumulations 
of  capital,  and  these  too  are  possessed  of  great  funds.  All 
this  has  been  done  by  self-help;  and  when  we  come  to 
consider  what  has  been  done  by  the  State,  we  find  curiously 
enough  that  some  of  the  things  the  Socialists  of  Germany 
and  France  are  now  working  for,  we  have  had  since  1834. 
The  new  Poor  Law  was  based  upon  a  recognition  of  the 
principle  that  the  poor  had  a  right  to  relief  from  the  State, 
a  doctrine  attacked  by  the  Radicals,  but  which  others  say 
has  saved  England  from  revolution ;  and  our  Factory  Acts 
are  also  Socialism.  They  interfere  to  protect  the  weak,  and 
not  only  women  and  children  but  also  men,  regulating  not 
only  the  sanitary  conditions  of  factories  but  also  the  work- 
ing hours. 

Now,  who  really  initiated  these  movements,  and  who 
opposed  them  ?  Robert  Owen  was  the  founder  of  co-opera- 
tion, and  let  us  be  candid  and  confess  that  the  Radicals  of 
that  time  derided  it.  The  same  was  the  fact  as  regards 
Trades-Unions.  The  Radicals  had  an  exclusive  belief  in 
individual  enterprise,  and  these  movements  they  considered 
as  infringements  upon  individual  right.  As  an  instance, 
Richard  Cobden  spoke  very  strongly  against  Trades-Unions 
as  likely  to  become  tyrannous.  These  are  his  words: 
*  Depend  upon  it,  nothing  can  be  got  by  fraternising  with 
Trades-Unions.  They  are  founded  upon  principles  of  brutal 
tyranny  and  monopoly.  I  would  rather  live  under  a  Dey 
of  Algiers  than  a  Trades  Committee ! '  Dr.  Arnold  caUed 
them  '  gangs  of  conspirators ' ;  but  while  some  at  home  have 
thus  condemned  them  as  agents  of  revolution,  foreign 
writers,  like  Lange  and  Brentano,  have  hailed  them  as 
averters  of  revolution. 

Again,  who  passed  the  factory  legislation  ?  Not  the 
Radicals;  it  was  due  to  Owen,  Oastler,  Sadler,  Fielding, 
and  Lord  Shaftesbury,  to  Tory-Socialists  and  to  landowners. 
And  let  us  recognise  the  fact  plainly,  that  it  is  because 
there  has  been  a  ruling  aristocracy  in  England  that  we  have 
had  a  great  Socialist  programme  carried  out.  This  may 
seem  a  paradox,  but  it  is  not.  The  explanation  is  simple. 
The  landowners  always  have — when  their  own  interests  were 


232  ARE  RADICALS  SOCIALISTS? 

not  concerned — attempted,  in  a  rough  and  blind  sort  of 
way,  to  do  justice  to  the  people;  and  factory  legislation 
harmonised  more  with  their  notions  of  the  people's  inde- 
pendence than  with  the  Kadical  manufacturers'  idea  of  the 
people's  independence.  Next,  from  their  position,  they  had 
a  stronger  feeling  about  protecting  the  people  than  these 
manufacturers  ever  had ;  they  had  an  idea  of  duty  connected 
with  their  position.  The  claim  made  once  by  Lord  John 
Manners  to  this  effect  is  not  altogether  false.  The  land- 
owners, like  all  men  possessed  of  power  for  a  long  period, 
have  had  noble  traditions  as  to  its  exercise,  and  where  their 
own  interests  were  not  touched,  they  tried  to  use  their 
power  for  the  good  of  the  people.  They  believed  not  only 
that  the  poor  were,  but  ought  to  be,  in  a  state  of  dependence; 
but  they  recognised  at  the  same  time  their  consequent 
duties  towards  the  poor.  Cobden  was  right :  the  supremacy 
of  the  landowners,  which  has  been  the  cause  of  so  much 
injustice  and  suffering,  has  also  been  the  means  of  averting 
revolution.  If  they  robbed  the  peasant  of  his  land,  they 
gave  him  the  right  to  relief  from  the  land ;  if  they  passed 
the  Corn-Laws,  they  also  secured  the  passing  of  the  Factory 
Acts.  I  tremble  to  think  what  this  country  would  have 
been  without  the  Factory  Acts.  Let  us  do  justice  to  the 
landowners  of  England  even  if  there  mingled  in  their  action 
an  unworthy  motive — that  of  taking  their  revenge  upon  the 
capitalists  and  millowners  of  Lancashire  for  their  repeal  of 
the  Corn-Laws.  And  abroad,  these  Acts,  passed  by  Tory 
country  gentlemen,  are  looked  upon  as  Socialistic. 

Let  us  now  come  to  the  last  and  most  startling  piece  of 
Socialistic  legislation — the  Irish  Land  Bill  of  1881.  When 
we  examine  the  debates  on  this  bill  we  find  that  the 
Radicals  and  Tories  have  completely  changed  places.  The 
reason  for  it  is  this :  the  Tories  felt  that  the  whole  basis  of 
their  power  was  being  touched  when  the  land  was  meddled 
with ;  before  it  was  only  a  question  of  capital,  now  it  was  a 
question  of  land.  It  is  a  striking  fact  that  many  of  the 
arguments  used  in  the  House  of  Commons  by  members  of 
the  Government  in  support  of  the  Land  Bill  are  almost 
exactly  parallel  to  the  arguments  formerly  used  by  men 
like  Mr.  Sadler  in  favour  of  the  Factory  Laws.    Tliey  even 


ARE  RADICALS  SOCIALISTS!  233 

used  some  of  the  illustrations  employed  in  discussing  the 
Poor  Laws,  dwelling  upon  the  fundamental  principle  that 
there  is  no  freedom  of  contract  between  men  who  are 
unequal  '  The  boasted  freedom  of  our  labourers  in  many 
pursuits,'  said  Mr.  Sadler  in  1832,  'will,  in  a  just  view  of 
their  condition,  be  found  little  more  than  nominal.'  '  People 
forget  the  condition  of  society,  the  unequal  division^  of 
property,  or  rather  its  total  monopoly  by  the  few ;  leaving 
the  many  nothing  whatevet  but  what  they  can  obtain  by 
their  daily  labour ;  which  very  labour  cannot  become  avail- 
able for  the  purpose  of  daily  subsistence  without  the  consent 
of  those  who  own  the  property  of  this  community,  all  the 
materials,  elements,  call  them  what  you  please,  on  which 
labour  is  bestowed,  being  in  their  possession.'  The  Radicals 
now  use  arguments  like  Sadler's,  and  they  are  right.  Let 
me  insist  that  the  principle  of  the  Irish  Land  Act  is  not 
retrograde  but  progressive.  That  Act  marks  not  only  an 
epoch  in  the  history  of  Ireland,  but  also  in  the  history  of 
Democracy.  It  means — I  say  it  advisedly — that  the  Radical 
party  has  committed  itself  to  a  Socialist  programme.  I  do 
not  mean  the  Socialism  of  the  Tory  Socialist;  I  do  not 
mean  the  Socialism  of  Robert  Owen ;  but  I  mean  that  the 
Radicals  have  finally  accepted  and  recognised  the  fact, 
which  has  far-reaching  appKcations,  a  fact  which  is  the 
fundamental  principle  of  Socialism,  that  between  men  who 
are  unequal  in  material  wealth  there  can  be  no  freedom  of 
contract. 

The  material  inequality  of  men  under  the  present  social 
conditions  is  a  fact.  The  Poor  Law,  factory  legislation, 
Trades-Unions,  may  lessen  the  pressure  of  the  strong  upon 
the  weak;  savings  banks,  buUding  societies,  co-operation, 
may  lessen  the  inequality  of  wealth;  the  power  of  the 
stronger  may  never  be  fully  exercised,  but  be  modified  by 
custom,  by  public  opinion,  by  benevolence — it  is  well  not 
to  forget  the  noble  generosity  of  English  landowners,  and 
Irish,  in  the  times  of  the  Famine  ;  economic  causes,  such  as 
the  fall  of  interest  and  of  rent,  may  be  at  work  to  mitigate 
the  inequality  of  condition;  yet,  notwithstanding  all,  this 
fact  remains,  and  the  maxims  which  Radical  Socialists  have 
founded  on  this  fact  are  these :  First,  that  where  individual 


234  AKE  EADICALS  SOCIALISTS  t 

rights  conflict  with  the  interests  of  the  community,  there 
the  State  ought  to  interfere;  and  second,  that  where  the 
people  are  unable  to  provide  a  thing  for  themselves,  and 
that  thing  is  of  primary  social  importance,  then  again  the 
State  should  interfere  and  provide  it  for  them. 

Having  definitely  accepted  this  principle,  we  may  now 
ask  what  further  application  of  it  is  necessary  ?  I  have  no 
intention  to  sketch  a  new  Eadical  programme,  but  in  order 
to  bring  the  principle  to  a  definite  issue,  I  will  apply  it  to 
one  matter  of  urgent  importance — the  dwellings  of  the 
people,  a  subject  upon  which  it  is  difficult  to  understand 
why  so  little  is  said.^  The  importance  of  the  hoine  it  is 
impossible  to  exaggerate.  What  is  liberty  without  it? 
What  is  education  in  schools  without  it  ?  The  greatness  of 
no  nation  can  be  secure  that  is  not  based  upon  a  pure  home 
life.  But  is  a  pure  home  life  possible  under  present  condi- 
tions for  the  bulk  of  the  labouring  class  ?  I  answer.  No.  I 
do  not  deny  that  artisans  have  good  dwellings  in  many 
towns,  but  I  assert  that  the  dwellings  of  the  great  mass  of 
the  people  are  a  danger  to  our  civilisation.  It  is  not  neces- 
sary to  describe  what  has  been  so  often  described  before ; 
the  dark  dens  into  which  the  sun  can  never  penetrate,  the 
noisome  air,  the  rotten  floors,  the  broken  roof  through  which 
the  rain  beats  and  the  wind, — we  know  them  all  too  well 
Why  do  we  sit  still  and  quietly  behold  degradation  worse 
than  that  from  which  we  have  rescued  women  and  children 
in  mines  and  factories  ?  Why  are  we  content  to  see  the 
sources  of  national  life  poisoned?  I  believe  it  is  because 
we  think  this  condition  of  things  inevitable.  But  if  only 
we  had  the  courage  to  stamp  it  out,  I  believe  it  is  not  so. 
People  have  no  idea  of  the  universality  of  the  evil.  It  is 
recognised  perhaps  in  such  great  cities  as  London  or  Liver- 
pool, but  take  a  quiet  cathedral  town  in  the  south  of  Eng- 
land, and  listen  to  some  of  the  facts  about  dwellings  there. 
Perhaps  the  description  of  one  house  will  sufi&ce :  it  has 
four  rooms,  the  largest  11  ft.  by  9  ft.,  and  8  ft.  by  5  ft.  10 
in.  At  the  time  to  which  my  report  refers,  the  drain 
underground   was  stopped   up;    there   was  a  perceptibly 

*  This  was  spoken  more  than  a  year  before  the  discussion  of  the  ques- 
tion in  the  public  press,  and  th«  consequent  action  taken. — Ed. 


AEE  RADICALS  SOCIALISTS  t  286 

offensive  smell ;  the  upper  rooms  let  in  the  rain ;  the  stair- 
case was  rotten;  one  child  had  died  recently,  and  the 
woman  had  been  ill  ever  since  she  was  in  the  honse.  The 
landlord  had  been  complained  to,  and  had  made  improve- 
ments,— that  is,  had  pasted  paper  over  the  holes  in  the 
door.  The  medical  officer  had  ordered  drainage,  but  of  this 
nothing  had  been  done.  Eent,  Ss.  6d.  a  week.  The  gentle- 
man from  whom  my  information  is  derived  purchased  the 
house,  and  found  that  the  former  owner  had  made  nearly 
fifty  per  cent  per  annum  on  his  purchase-money.  No 
wonder  that  a  Fair  Eent  Society  has  been  founded  among 
householders. 

What  means  have  we  of  grappling  with  the  problem? 
First,  we  might  reform  our  local  government  We  have 
now  inequality  of  local  taxation,  and  sanitary  laws  and 
Building  Acts  are  not  enforced,  because  sanitary  officers  are 
not  independent,  and  because  local  authorities  would  have 
to  bear  the  expense.  Further,  the  representation  of  work- 
men upon  all  Boards  and  Town-Councils  should  be  insisted 
on.  Next,  we  know  what  can  be  done  by  private  enter- 
prise. Building  societies  are  stated  to  have  investments  to 
the  amount  of  £31,000,000.  Mr.  T.  M.  Sadler,  the  Registrar, 
tells  me  that,  in  1881,  237  were  registered.  The  Artisans' 
Dwellings'  Company  in  Newcastle  had,  in  1879,  108  tene- 
ments. In  London,  after  forty  years'  efforts,  improved 
industrial  dwellings  have  been  provided  for  60,000  people. 
But,  notwithstanding  all  such  voluntary  agencies,  the 
evidence  is  clear  that  it  is  scarcely  possible  to  furnish 
decent  dwellings  for  the  very  poor  at  a  remunerative  price. 
The  average  weekly  wage  of  the  occupants  of  the  Peabody 
buildings  is  £1,  33.  lOd. ;  that  of  the  occupants  of  the  houses 
of  the  Improved  Industrial  Dwellings'  Company,  283.,  of  a 
whole  family,  35s.  to  40s.  The  circumstances  of  different 
localities  differ,  and  I  am  perfectly  aware  that,  in  some  manu- 
facturing towns,  artisans  have  often  been  able  to  buy  houses 
and  provide  for  themselves,  but  it  was  distinctly  admitted 
by  the  Home  Secretary  that  nothing  could  be  done  for  the 
poorest  class  without  State  assistance;  and  the  witnesses 
examined  before  the  Committ^ie  on  the  Artisans'  Dwellings 
Act  of   1875  nearly  all  declared  that  the  great  mass  of 


236  ARE  RADICALS  SOCIALISTS  t 

labourers  cannot  be  provided  with  decent  houses  at  a  re- 
munerative price. 

Well,  what  are  we  to  do  ?  I  do  not  hesitate  to  say  the 
community  must  step  in  and  give  the  necessary  aid.  These 
labourers  cannot  obtain  dwellings  for  themselves ;  munici- 
palities, or  the  State  in  some  form,  should  have  power  to 
buy  up  land  and  let  it  below  the  market  value  for  the 
erection  of  decent  dwellings.  It  will  be  objected,  'Why, 
this  is  rank  Socialism!'  Yes,  it  is.  Mr.  Waddy  was 
denounced  as  a  Communist  for  making  such  a  suggestion 
once  in  the  House.  But  the  principle  is  only  the  principle 
of  the  Poor  Law,  and,  if  we  look  closely  into  the  matter,  we 
shall  find  that,  as  usual  in  England — where  practice  always 
precedes  theory — the  thing  is  already  done.  In  London, 
the  Peabody  Trustees  keep  their  interest  at  three  per  cent, 
gross,  thirty  or  forty  per  cent,  below  that  of  other  companies, 
and  house  10,000  people.  Landowners  in  the  country 
building  cottages  will  tell  you  that  no  cottage  pays  more 
than  two  per  cent.  Here  are  examples  of  houses  let  below 
market  value,  and  without  the  demoralisation  of  their 
occupants.  I  believe  we  could  make  no  better  investment 
of  national  capital.  A  higher  standard  of  comfort  would  be 
reached,  and  improved  habits  of  living  established  among 
the  people ;  a  great  diminution  in  pauperism,  drunkenness, 
and  crime  would  inevitably  follow. 

But  would  not  this  be  class  legislation  which  Radicals 
have  always  opposed?  No,  because  it  would  be  in  the 
interest  of  the  whole  community.  We  cannot  call  ourselves 
safe  until  all  citizens  have  the  chance  of  living  decent  lives ; 
the .  poorest  class  need  to  be  raised  in  the  interest  of  all 
classes.  But  would  it  not  diminish  self-reliance?  No,  I 
conceive  of  it  as  a  help  towards  doing  without  help.  It  is 
doing  for  the  people  what  they  cannot  do  for  themselves, 
that  they  may  thus  gain  a  position  in  which  they  shall  not 
need  assistance.  Radicals  are  as  keenly  alive  as  ever  to  the 
necessity  for  self-reliance ;  I  would  say,  abolish  outdoor 
relief  under  the  Poor  Law,  because  outdoor  relief  lowers 
wages,  degrades  the  recipient,  and  diminishes  self-reliance ; 
I  would  have  this  done  with  workmen  themselves  sitting  as 
Poor-Law  guardiana 


ARE  RADICALS  SOCIALISTS!  237 

In  conclusion,  I  would  ask  what  is  the  difference  between 
the  Socialism  of  which  I  have  spoken,  Tory  Socialism,  and 
the  Socialism  of  the  Continent  ?  The  Radical  creed,  as  I 
understand  it,  is  this:  We  have  not  abandoned  our  old 
belief  .in  liberty,  justice,  and  self-help  but  we  say  that 
under  certain  conditions  the  people  cannot  help  themselves, 
and  that  then  they  should  be  helped  by  the  State  represent- 
ing directly  the  whole  people.  In  giving  this  State  help, 
we  make  three  conditions :  first,  the  matter  must  be  one  of 
primary  social  importance ;  next,  it  must  be  proved  to  be 
practicable ;  thirdly,  the  State  interference  must  not  diminish 
self-reliance.  Even  if  the  chance  should  arise  of  removing 
a  great  social  evil,  nothing  must  be  done  to  weaken  those 
habits  of  individual  self-reliance  and  voluntary  association 
which  have  built  up  the  greatness  of  the  English  people. 
But — to  take  an  example  of  the  State  doing  for  a  section 
of  the  people  what  they  could  not  do  for  themselves — I  am 
not  aware  that  the  Merchant  Shipping  Act  has  diminished 
the  self-reliance  of  the  British  sailor.  We  differ  from  Tory 
Socialism  in  so  far  as  we  are  in  favour,  not  of  paternal,  but 
of  fraternal  government,  and  we  differ  from  Continental 
Socialism  because  we  accept  the  principle  of  piivate 
property^  and  pepudiate  confiscation  and  violence.  With 
Mazzini,  we  say  the  worst  feature  in  Continental  Socialism 
is  its  materialism.  It  is  this  indeed  which  utterly  separates 
English  Radical  SociaUsts  from  Continental  Socialists — our 
abhorrence  and  detestation  of  their  materialistic  ideal.  To 
a  reljictant  admission  of  the  necessity  for  State  action,  we 
join  a  burning  belief  in  duty,  and  a  deep  spiritual  ideal  of 
life.  And  we  have  more  than  an  abstract  belief  in  duty,  we 
do  not  hesitate  to  unite  the  advocacy  of  social  reform  with 
an  appeal  to  the  various  classes  who  compose  society  to  per- 
form those  duties  without  which  all  social  reform  must  be 
merely  delusive. 

To  the  capitalists  we  appeal  to  use  their  wealth,  as 
many  of  their  order  already  do,  as  a  great  national  trust, 
and  not  for  selfish  purposes  alone.  We  exhort  them  to 
aid  in  the  completion  of  the  work  they  have  well  begun, 
and,  having  admitted  the  workmen  to  political  inde- 
pendence, not  to  shrink  from  accepting  laws  and  carrying 


238  ARE  RADICALS  SOCIALISTS  t 

out  plans  of  social  reform  directed  to  secure  his  material 
independence. 

To  the  workman  we  appeal  by  the  memory  and  traditions 
of  his  own  sufferings  and  wrongs  to  be  vigilant  to  avoid  the 
great  guilt  of  inflicting  upon  his  fellow-citizens  the  injustice 
from  which  he  has  himself  escaped.  We  call  upon  him  to 
reform  his  own  social  and  domestic  life, — to  put  down 
drunkenness  and  brutal  violence.  Decent  habitations  and 
high  wages  are  not  ends  to  be  sought  for  their  own  sake. 
High  wages — now  at  least — are  often  a  cause  of  crime. 
Material  prosperity,  without  faith  in  God  and  love  to  our 
fellow-men,  is  as  little  use  to  man  as  earth  to  the  plants 
without  the  sun. 

I  repeat,  we  demand  increased  material  welfare  for  those 
who  labour  with  their  hands,  not  that  they  may  seize  upon 
a  few  more  coarse  enjoyments,  but  that  they  may  enter 
upon  a  purer  and  a  higher  life.  We  demand  it  also  that  the 
English  workman  may  take  his  part  worthily  in  the  govern- 
ment of  this  country.  We  demand  it  in  order  that  he  may 
have  the  intelligence  and  the  will  to  administer  the  great 
trust  which  fate  has  committed  to  his  charge ;  for  it  is  not 
only  his  own  home  and  his  own  country  that  he  has  to 
govern,  but  a  vast  empire — a  duty  unparalleled  in  the 
annals  of  democracy.  We  demand  it,  I  say,  in  order  that 
he,  a  citizen  of  this  inclement  island,  washed  by  dark 
northern  seas,  may  learn  to  rule  righteously  the  dim  multi- 
tudes of  peasants  who  toil  under  the  fierce  light  of  tropical 
suns,  in  the  distant  continent  of  India.  We  demand  that 
the  material  condition  of  those  who  labour  shall  be  bettered, 
in  order  that,  every  source  of  weakness  being  removed  at 
home,  we,  this  English  nation,  may  bring  to  the  tasks  which 
God  has  assigned  us,  the  irresistible  strength  of  a  prosperous 
and  united  people. 


THE  EDUCATION  OF  CO-OPERATORS         239 


THE  EDUCATION  OF  CO-OPERATORS  * 

Att.  co-operators  follow  their  great  founder  in  denouncing 
individualism  and  the  principle  of  competition ;  but  I  have 
recently  observed  among  some  social  reformers  a  certain 
impatience  and  distrust  of  that  opposite  principle  of  associa- 
tion to  which  co-operators  have  so  long  looked  for  the 
ultimate  regeneration  of  our  social  system.  Though  we 
may  not  attach  much  importance  to  this  feeling  we  cannot 
deny  its  existence.  We  recognise  it  in  sarcastic  descriptions 
of  the  motley  throng  of  societies  which  jostle  each  other  in 
modern  civilisation,  from  societies  for  the  salvation  of  souls 
and  the  spread  of  the  gospel  among  the  heathen,  down  to 
associations  for  the  reform  of  bread,  the  promotion  of  early 
rising,  and  the  burial  of  dead  cats !  It  is  hinted  in  these 
descriptions  that  most  modern  societies  are  trivial  and 
ridiculous,  or  mere  vexatious  impediments  to  healthy 
individual  action ;  and  a  comparison  is  sometimes  instituted 
between  them  and  the  mediaeval  guilds,  much  to  their  dis- 
advantage. The  criticism  is  not  entirely  undeserved,  nor 
the  contrast  entirely  false.  Putting  aside  great  commercial 
companies,  which  are  avowedly  associations  of  capital  trading 
for  profit,  we  must,  I  think,  admit  that  a  large  number  of 
modern  organisations  are  simply  aggregates  of  money,  with 
trivial  or  transient  objects,  instead  of  being,  like  the  mediaeval 
guilds,  living  groups  of  men  animated  by  common  principles 
of  religious  and  industrial  faith,  and  united  for  the  satis- 
faction of  the  great  permanent  needs  of  human  life. 

I  shall  not  here  pause  to  consider  the  reason  of  this 
difference,  but  the  comparison  and  the  criticism  will  be 
of  value  if  they  lead  us  to  ask  what  is  the  real  function  of 
the  innumerable  associations  of  the  present  age.    A  careful 

^  This  paper  waa  read  before  the  Co-operative  Congress  held  at  Oxford 
in  May  1S82. 


240         THE  EDUCATION  OF  CO-OPERATORS 

examination  will  prove  that  though  not  a  few  are  useless 
and  ridiculous,  the  majority  of  them  are  the  legitimate 
products  of  the  extraordinary  variety  of  men's  wants  and 
aims,  which,  under  the  complex  conditions  of  modern  social 
life,  it  is  beyond  the  power  of  the  individual  to  satisfy  or 
achieve.  The  Animals  Necropolis  Company,  to  which  I 
have  alluded,  seems  at  first  sight  to  be  properly  included 
under  those  societies  which  are  foolish  and  useless,  but  it  is 
in  reality  a  fair  if  quaint  illustration  of  the  truth  of  the 
assertion  I  have  just  made.  The  tenderness  for  animals  as 
companions,  the  crowding  together  of  dwellings  in  great 
cities  without  a  foot  of  vacant  space,  the  strictness  of 
modern  sanitary  regulations,  are  facts  which  explain  and 
justify  the  existence  of  a  society  so  apparently  repugnant 
to  common  sense.  I  must  resist  the  temptation  which  here 
presents  itself  to  trace  the  genesis  of  other  forms  of  existing 
associations,  and  content  myself  with  drawing  your  attention 
to  one  singular  fact,  viz.,  that  a  considerable  number  of  them 
are  the  direct  creation  of  that  State  interference  against 
which  many  co-operators  entertain  a  generous  prejudice. 
For  this  activity  of  modern  legislation,  which  some  co- 
operators  censure,  has  strengthened,  and  not  weakened,  the 
sense  of  moral  responsibility  and  habits  of  voluntary 
co-operation.  For  example,  the  laws  which  punish  the 
adulteration  of  food  called  into  existence  societies  of  master 
bakers,  and  of  vendors  of  milk,  to  enforce  the  penalties 
against  fraudulent  tradesmen,  and  the  laws  which  punish 
cruelty  to  animals  gave  birth  to  a  society  for  the  prosecution 
of  offenders,  thus  rendering  possible  the  effective  expression 
of  a  moral  sentiment  which  would  otherwise  have  fretted  in 
impotence. 

If  now  we  turn  from  modern  associations  in  general  to 
the  consideration  of  workmen's  societies,  we  shall  find  that 
though  their  aims  cannot  be  described  as  transient  or  trivial, 
yet  they  too  are  in  character  usually  aggregates  of  money 
limited  to  a  single  object,  and  making  no  attempt  to  embrace 
the  whole  of  human  life.  Building  societies  facilitate  the 
purchase  of  dwellings.  Friendly  societies  make  provision 
for  sickness  and  death.  Trades-Unions  have  rather  a  wider 
scope,  and  seem  more  nearly  to  resemble  mediaeval  guilds  in 


THE  EDUCATION  OF  CO-OPERATORS         241 

character  and  purpose.  To  the  outward  eye  co-operative 
societies  are  smaller  things  than  Trades-Unions  and  of 
slighter  significance.  Their  aims — the  promotion  of  thrift 
and  the  reduction  of  the  cost  of  living — appear  narrow  and 
uninteresting  ;  their  energies  seem  entirely  absorbed  in  the 
purchase  of  chests  of  tea  and  sacks  of  flour,  and  the  ordinary 
coarse  necessaries  of  daily  life.  Nor  are  their  members  (I 
think)  in  such  close  contact  as  those  of  a  Union ;  the 
majority  of  them  are  often  as  unknown  to  each  other  as  the 
shareholders  in  a  great  railway,  and  there  are  few  opportuni- 
ties of  intercourse  besides  the  quarterly  meetings  or  the 
managing  committee.  A  deeper  scrutiny,  however,  shows 
that  though  not  endowed  with  the  fervent  united  life  of  the 
mediaeval  guilds,  co-operative  societies,  by  the  possession  of 
large  ideals,  approach  nearer  to  them  in  reality  than  do 
Trades-Unions,  which  have  a  closer  outward  resemblance. 
I  do  not  mean  to  disparage  Trades-Unions,  nor  to  assert 
that  they  have  not  moral  aims  because  they  have  not  large 
ideals;  but  I  am  inclined  to  think  that  the  spirit  which 
breathes  in  the  tine  inscription  on  the  banner  of  the  Glovers 
of  Perth  in  the  seventeenth  century,  '  The  perfect  honour  of 
a  craft  or  beauty  of  a  trade  is  not  in  wealthe  but  in  moral 
worth,  whereby  virtue  gains  renowne,'  is  more  characteristic 
of  co-operative  societies  than  of  any  association  formed  in 
any  particular  modern  trade.  Trades-Unions  which  accept 
the  facts  of  the  present  industrial  system,  and  are  engaged 
in  a  hand-to-hand  tight  with  capitalists,  have  no  time  to 
indulge  in  dreams  that  are  natural  to  bodies  of  men  whose 
aim  is  the  radical  transformation  of  the  entire  conditions  of 
industrial  life. 

For  we  know  that,  however  seemingly  immersed  in  the 
petty  business  of  the  shop  co-operators  may  be,  their  real 
aim  and  their  real  determination  is  to  put  an  end  to  com- 
petition and  the  division  of  men  into  capitalists  and  labourers 
— an  aim  and  determination  which  again  remind  us  of  the 
mediaeval  guilds,  where  labour  and  capital  were  associated, 
and  competition  held  in  abhorrence.  It  is  this  large  spirit, 
this  resolute  refusal  to  accept  the  present  state  of  society 
as  final,  which  marks  off  co-operation  from  all  other  move- 
ments, and  gives  to  it  an  interest  which  is  unique.     1  know 

Q 


242         THE  EDUCATION  OF  CO-OPERATORS 

it  is  said  that '  the  one  loud  and  universal  shout  of  social 
regeneration,'  raised  by  Robert  Owen,  has,  not  only  to  the 
undiscerning  ear  but  in  reality,  sunk  into  a  mere  debate 
about  dividends;  but  this  we  will  not  allow  to  be  true. 
The  ideal  of  Robert  Owen  had  to  run  the  course  of  other 
ideals ;  it  had  to  die  that  it  might  live.  *  That  which  thou 
sowest  is  not  quickened  except  it  die*;  the  co-operative 
ideal  had  to  be  cast  into  the  soil  of  material  prosperity,  in 
order  that  it  might  spring  up  into  a  new  and  more  powerful 
life.  The  very  fact  that  the  subject  I  have  to  discuss  to-day 
is  the  subject  of  education  shows  that  the  ideal  is  quickened, 
and  is  taking  practical  shape. 

It  may,  however,  be  fairly  asked,  why  I  have  devoted  so 
much  time  to  the  discussion  of  the  general  aim  of  co-opera- 
tion, and  the  difference  between  mediaeval  and  modern 
societies,  instead  of  proceeding  at  once  to  consider  the 
subject  assigned  to  me  ?  I  reply  that,  as  a  matter  of  fact, 
directly  I  began  to  deal  with  that  subject  I  found  myself 
forced  to  determine  what  the  exact  work  of  co-operative 
societies  is  among  the  crowd  of  associations  that  catch  our 
eye  on  every  side ;  and  my  inquiry  at  least  brought  out  one 
point  very  clearly,  namely,  that  though  they  differ  from 
other  societies  by  the  possession  of  an  ideal  aim,  yet  they 
do  not  attempt  to  cover  the  whole  range  of  human  life. 
Now  if  this  be  true,  it  is  obvious  that  co-operation  can  only 
claim  a  part  of  education  as  its  province,  and  that  my 
business  is  to  ascertain  what  that  part  should  be. 

The  absence  of  any  definite  conception  on  this  point  will 
perhaps  explain  the  hesitating  and  uncertain  action  of 
co-operators  in  regard  to  education  and  the  small  fraction 
of  money  they  have  hitherto  devoted  to  it.  Seeing  that 
education  is  the  function,  not  of  one  but  of  many  associa- 
tions, co-operators  have  had  difficulties  in  deciding  what 
their  exact  relation  to  it  ought  to  be.  Elementary  education 
is  provided  by  the  State ;  intermediate  education  is  met  by 
the  old  foundations  in  their  reformed  character,  and  by  the 
new  high  schools  ;  what  is  called  the  higher  education  will 
be  one  of  the  principal  functions  of  the  university  colleges 
which  are  springing  up  in  the  great  towns.  No  one 
proposes  that  co-operators  should  venture  to  grapple  with 


THE  EDUCATION  OF  CO-OPERATORS         243 

the  seven  times  heated  problem  of  religious  education :  that 
task  must  be  abandoned  to  the  Churches ;  but  the  fact  that 
it  is  impossible  for  co-operators  to  adopt  a  distinct  religious 
creed  is  again  a  point  of  difference  between  them  and  the 
mediaeval  guilds  which  is  of  deep  significance.  As  regards 
technical  education,  it  at  first  sight  might  seem  admirably 
fitted  for  co-operators  to  undertake,  but  I  believe  it  will  be 
found  that  technical  schools  established  by  employers  or  by 
Government  for  each  particular  trade  will  do  the  work  far 
better  than  could  societies  whose  members  are  drawn  from 
every  trade. 

What  part  of  education  then  is  left  for  co-operators  to 
appropriate  ?  The  answer  I  would  give  is,  the  education  of 
the  citizen.  By  this  I  mean  the  education  of  each  member 
of  the  community,  as  regards  the  relation  in  which  he 
stands  to  other  individual  citizens,  and  to  the  community 
as  a  whole.  But  why  should  co-operators,  more  than  any 
one  else,  take  up  this  part  of  education  ?  Because  co- 
operators,  if  they  would  carry  out  their  avowed  aims,  are 
more  absolutely  in  need  of  such  an  education  than  any 
other  persons,  and  because  if  we  look  at  the  origin  of  the 
co-operative  movement  we  shall  see  that  this  is  the  work 
in  education  most  thoroughly  in  harmony  with  its  ideal 
purpose. 

We  all  know  what  the  circumstances  were  under  which 
co-operation  arose,  and  a  hurried  glance  at  the  main 
features  of  the  great  industrial  revolution  of  a  hundred 
years  ago  will  be  suflScient  to  remind  us  of  the  nature  of 
the  problem  with  which  Robert  Owen  had  to  grapple.  The 
slowly  dissolving  framework  of  mediaeval  industrial  life  was 
suddenly  broken  in  pieces  by  the  mighty  blows  of  the 
steam-engine  and  the  power-loom.  With  it  disappeared, 
like  a  dream,  those  ancient  habits  of  social  union  and 
personal  affection  which  had  lingered  on  in  the  quiet  home- 
steads where  master  and  apprentice  worked  side  by  side  at 
the  loom  and  in  the  forge.  Industry  was  dragged  from 
cottages  into  factories  and  cities;  the  operative  who 
laboured  in  the  mOl  was  parted  from  the  capitalist  who 
owned  it ;  and  the  struggle  for  the  wealth  which  machinery 
promised  withered  the  old  bonds  of  mutual  trust,  and  made 


244         THE  EDUCATION  OF  CO-OPERATORS 

competition  seem  a  new  and  terrible  force.  Of  the  in- 
numerable evils  which  prevailed  in  this  age  of  confusion, 
Owen  fixed  his  eyes  on  two — isolation  and  competition: 
and  to  restore  the  ideas  of  brotherhood  arid  citizenship, 
which  had  been  trampled  under  foot,  he  proposed  the 
formation  of  self-complete  communities,  with  property  in 
common,  and  based  upon  the  principle  of  equal  association 
and  the  pursuit  of  a  moral  life.  The  societies  actually 
formed  were  not  successful,  but  the  aim  of  their  founder  is 
still  the  aim  of  the  co-operative  societies  of  the  present  day. 
Their  task,  however,  is  a  more  difficult  one  than  Owen's,  for 
whilst  he  bade  men  retire  from  the  world  and  regain  the 
idea  of  brotherhood  in  the  life  of  small  independent  com- 
munities, co-operators  are  content  that  men  should  remain 
in  the  world,  and  seek  to  make  them  good  citizens  of  the 
great  community  of  the  English  people.  Owen,  in  fact, 
would  have  replaced  the  isolation  of  individuals  by  the  isola- 
tion of  groups,  which  was  to  go  back  instead  of  to  advance. 
The  compact,  close-knit  life  of  the  towns  and  guilds  of  the 
middle  ages  had  to  be  broken  up  in  order  that  the  in- 
habitants of  this  island  might  become  one  nation.  A  great 
writer  who  brooded  over  the  same  problem  that  filled  the 
mind  of  Robert  Owen  has  cast  a  glance  of  regret  upon  the 
life  of  which  the  mediaeval  castle  was  the  centre ;  but  the 
isolation  typified  by  the  mediaeval  castle  was  infinitely 
greater  than  that  suggested  by  the  long  rows  of  artisans' 
dwellings  upon  which  its  ruins  look  down,  for  it  was  the 
isolation  of  men  united  in  close  bonds  by  the  spirit  of 
aggression  and  the  fear  of  violence ;  and  it  is  the  disappear- 
ance of  the  evils  that  produced  union  in  the  past  which 
makes  possible  the  seeming  estrangement  in  which  men 
now  live.  That  estrangement  is  the  price  we  have  paid  for 
national  life  and  for  individual  independence ;  the  problem 
for  us  is  not  to  re-create  union  at  the  cost  of  national  life, 
but  to  reconcile  the  union  of  individuals  with  national  life ; 
not  to  produce  union  at  the  cost  of  independence,  but  to 
reconcile  union  with  independence. 

Further,  the  workman  is  now  not  only  independent,  he 
shares  likewise  in  the  government  of  the  State;  yet  at  the 
very  time  that  this  responsibility  is  laid  upon  him  he  has 


THE  EDUCATION  OF  CO-OPERATORS         246 

entered  upon  conditions  of  industrial  life  which  seem  to 
exhaust  his  energies  and  dull  his  intelligence.  A  law  of 
political  development  has  slowly  raised  him  from  the 
position  of  a  serf  to  that  of  a  citizen ;  a  law  of  industrial 
development  has  degraded  him,  by  division  of  labour,  from 
a  man  into  a  machine.  These  are  the  difficulties  we  have 
to  face  ;  the  complicated  character  of  modem  citizenship 
and  the  deadening  effect  of  minute  subdivision  of  labour ; 
and  these  it  is  which  make  the  education  of  which  I  speak, 
the  education  of  the  citizen  in  his  duties  as  a  citizen, 
indispensable. 

I  shall  draw,  only  in  outline,  a  scheme  for  such  citizen- 
education,  it  being  my  desire  to  prove  to  co-operators  that 
they  should  undertake  this  work,  rather  than  to  discuss  in 
detail  what  such  education  should  be.  The  following  is  a 
sketch  of  the  principal  subjects  which  ought  to  be  dealt 
with : — 

I.  Political  Education.  —  1.  A  description  of  existing 
political  institutions  in  England,  local  and  central  2.  The 
history  of  these  political  institutions  in  England.  3.  The 
history  of  political  ideas,  as  found  in  the  great  writers,  such 
as  Burke  or  De  Tocqueville.  4.  The  political  relations  of 
England  to  other  countries  and  to  her  colonies. 

IL  Industrial  Bducaiion. — 1.  A  description  of  the  present 
industrial  system  in  England,  and  the  main  causes  of  the 
production  and  distribution  of  wealth.  2.  A  history  of 
industrial  institutions,  e.g.  the  mediaeval  guilds,  the  Poor- 
Law,  and  Trades-Unions.  3.  A  history  of  the  material 
condition  of  the  working  classes.  4.  The  history  of  social 
ideas,  and  of  schemes  of  social  reform. 

III.  Sanitary  EdiLcaiion. — The  duties  of  citizens  in  rela- 
tion to  the  prevention  of  the  spread  of  disease. 

You  will  observe  that  the  whole  scheme  is  framed,  not 
with  reference  to  the  education  of  the  individual  man,  but 
of  the  citizen,  with  a  view  of  showing  what  are  his  duties 
to  his  fellow-men,  and  in  what  way  union  with  them  is 
possible.  The  mere  vague  impulse  in  a  man  to  do  his  duty 
is  barren  without  the  knowledge  which  enables  him  to 
perceive  what  his  duties  are,  and  how  to  perform  them; 
and  it  seems  to  me  that  only  through  associations   like 


246         THE  EDUCATION  OF  CO-OPERATORS 

yours  can  an  efficient  citizen-education  be  given  to  the 
great  masses  of  the  working-people.  Men  who  still  dream 
of  the  reconstruction  of  industrial  life  by  the  union  of 
capital  and  labour  will  recognise  at  once  that  this  education 
is  the  necessary  preliminary  to  any  such  attempt. 

Several  objections  to  the  proposal  will,  however,  occur  to 
every  one.  Is  there  not  a  danger  of  political  science  being 
made  a  vehicle  of  partisan  virulence?  Is  there  not  a 
danger  that  the  attempt  to  deal  with  the  perilous  passing 
questions  of  the  hour  may  sow  division  amongst  co- 
operators  ?  I  answer  that  it  is  no  doubt  difficult  to  handle 
the  sensitive  living  interests  of  human  beings  in  the  same 
neutral  and  disinterested  spirit  in  which  it  is  so  easy  to 
approach  the  facts  of  physical  science.  But  just  because 
the  matter  requires  a  larger  spirit  than  that  of  men  swayed 
by  the  ordinary  petty  considerations  of  a  party  or  a  class, 
is  it  one  which  co-operators,  who  seek  to  win  such  a  spirit, 
should  be  eager  to  undertake.  It  is  for  them,  above  all 
others,  to  prove  that  men's  deepest  interests  are  not  the 
peculiar  possessions  of  factions  and  parties,  but  the  rightful 
inheritance  of  every  citizen. 

But,  again,  it  may  be  objected,  that  even  if  co-operators 
were  willing  to  adopt  such  subjects  as  part  of  their  educa- 
tion, there  are  few  teachers  with  the  requisite  impartiality 
of  mind  and  width  of  knowledge.  I  do  not  think  this 
objection  a  weighty  one.  In  the  ranks  of  co-operators  them- 
selves, and  in  the  Universities,  there  are,  I  am  convinced, 
persons  who  have  studied  political  and  social  questions  with 
all  the  keenness  of  partisans,  but  without  their  prejudice. 
The  fact  that  these  men  will  often,  of  course,  have  reached 
definite  practical  conclusions  will  not  destroy  their  influence 
as  scientific  teachers.  Another  objection  is  that  the  expense 
of  providing  lecturers  of  this  stamp  would  be  greater  than 
co-operators  would  be  willing  to  incur.  I  do  not  deny  that 
the  coat  might  be  considerable,  but  I  think  that  if  you 
adopt  the  suggestion  thrown  out  by  Professor  Stuart,  in  his 
address  at  Gloucester  (p.  23),  that  a  Central  Board  should 
appoint  lecturers  to  certain  districts  within  which  they 
should  move  from  town  to  town,  you  would  reduce  the  cost 
to  a  sum  which  co-operators  ought  not  to  grudge. 


THE  EDUCATION  OF  CO-OPERATORS         247 

The  greatest  obstacle,  in  my  opinion,  to  the  success  of 
the  plan  would  not  be  the  difficulty  of  finding  competent 
teachers  nor  the  greatness  of  the  expense,  but  the  apathy 
of  co-operators  themselves  in  the  acquisition  of  knowledge. 
The  difficulty  of  persuading  workmen  to  listen  to  anything 
which  does  not  concern  pleasure  or  profit  has  long  been 
acknowledged,  and  is,  I  think,  even  stronger  than  it  used 
to  be.  Let  me  give  you  an  example  from  the  writings  of 
one  who  was  himself  a  workman,  and  spent  the  best  years 
of  his  life  in  ardent  and  daring  advocacy  of  the  workman's 
cause.  Speaking  of  the  eager  groups  of  artisans  who  could 
be  seen  discussing  political  questions  forty  years  ago, 
Thomas  Cooper  remarks,  with  bitterness,  in  his  auto- 
biography: 'Now  you  will  see  no  such  groups  in  Lanca- 
shire. But  you  will  hear  well-dressed  working  men  talking, 
as  they  walk  v.ith  their  hands  in  their  pockets,  of  " co-ops.," 
and  their  shares  in  them,  or  in  building  societies.  And 
you  will  see  others,  like  idiots,  leading  small  greyhound 
dogs,  covered  with  cloth,  in  a  string !  They  are  about  to 
race,  and  they  are  betting  money  as  they  go !  And  yonder 
comes  another  clamorous  dozen  of  men,  cursing  and  swear- 
ing, and  betting  upon  a  few  pigeons  they  are  about  to  let  fly  ! 
As  for  their  betting  on  horses — like  their  masters , — it  is 
perfect  madness.  .  .  .  Working  men  had  ceased  to  think, 
and  wanted  to  hear  no  thoughtful  talk ;  at  least,  it  was  so 
with  the  greater  number  of  them.'  We  may,  perhaps,  allow 
something  for  the  disposition  of  an  old  man  to  praise  the 
generation  to  which  he  belonged,  but  I  am  sure  that  there  are 
many  workmen  who  could  give  similar  evidence.  Of  course 
one  explanation  is,  that  workmen  are  less  eager  now  about 
political  and  social  questions,  because  they  are  more  pro- 
sperous, and  this  is  the  danger  co-operators  have  to  meet — 
the  danger  that '  material  comfort  may  diminish  spiritual 
energy.  We  ought,  moreover,  in  fairness,  to  recognise  that 
it  is  not  unnatural  for  men  wearied  by  long  hours  of 
monotonous  toil  to  indulge  in  sports  and  coarse  amuse- 
ments ;  that  for  them  to  devote  their  scanty  leisure  to 
intellectual  exertion  requires  extraordinary  efforts.  But 
if  political  progress  is  not  to  end  in  political  degradation, 
the  efforts  must  be  made.     Languor  can  only  be  conquered 


248         THE  EDUCATION  OF  CO-OPERATORS 

by  enthusiasm,  and  enthusiasm  can  only  be  kindled  by  two 
things :  an  ideal  which  takes  the  imagination  by  storm,  and 
a  definite  intelligible  plan  for  carrying  out  that  ideal  into 
practice.  The  plan  I  have  ventured  to  hint  at  in  this 
paper ;  the  ideal  is  yours  by  inheritance — it  is  nothing  less 
than  that  of  brotherhood  and  a  perfect  citizenship.  We 
have  abandoned,  and  rightly  abandoned,  the  attempt  to 
realise  citizenship  by  separating  ourselves  from  society ; 
we  will  never  abandon  the  belief  that  it  is  yet  to  be  won 
amid  the  press  and  confusion  of  the  ordinary  world  in  which 
we  move.  If,  however,  this  great  task  is  to  be  accom- 
plished, if  co-operators  are  to  arrive  at  a  correct  solution 
of  the  social  problems  which  are  every  day  becoming  more 
grave,  if  workmen  are  to  rightly  exercise  the  unparalleled 
political  power  of  which  they  have  become  possessed,  then 
they  must  receive  a  social  and  political  education  such  as 
no  other  institutions  have  offered,  and  which  I  believe 
co-operative  societies,  by  their  origin  and  their  aims,  are 
bound  to  provide. 


IDEAL  RELATION  OF  CHURCH  AND  STATE    249 


THE  IDEAL  RELATION  OF  CHURCH  AND  STATE.^ 


The  State  and  Freedom. — Plato'8  Republic  is  the  ideal  of 
a  Greek  state.  In  this  ideal  Plato  does  not  introduce  the 
distinction  of  Church  and  State;  for  to  him  Church  and 
State  are  one.  Let  us  try  and  see,  in  the  modem  world, 
what  the  State  is,  what  the  Church  is,  and  what  are  their 
relations. 

Man  has  two  wants — freedom  and  religion.  What  is 
freedom  ?  The  power  to  do  what  I  like.  How  do  mankind 
obtain  freedom  ?  By  the  State,  the  organised  power  of  the 
people.  The  visible  embodiment  of  the  State  are  judges, 
magistrates,  courts  of  law,  officers  of  justice,  armed  men. 
The  primary  function  of  the  State  is  to  secure  freedom  by 
compulsion. 

If  we  think  for  a  moment  of  a  great  nation  we  shall 
understand  this.  What  is  the  picture  which  rises  in  the 
mind  ?  A  picture  of  myriads  of  separate  living  beings 
spread  over  the  face  of  the  land — thronging  the  streets  of 
cities,  tending  sheep  on  lonely  hills,  going  down  to  the  sea 
in  ships,  hewing  coal  in  mines,  pondering  in  inner  chambers, 
praying  in  churches — crossing  each  other's  paths  in  cease- 
less motion — a  picture  of  millions  of  men,  each  doing  what 
is  right  in  his  own .  eyes — thinking,  preaching,  sowing, 
reaping,  weaving.  What  makes  this  possible  ?  The  State, 
To  the  eye  of  the  senses  these  countless  human  beings  move 
without  restraint :  to  the  eye  of  the  mind  they  move  within  a 
network  of  compulsion.  A  web  is  cast  around  them  within 
which  they  move,  without  which  they  could  not  move.    Break 

'  Notes  of  an  Address  delivered  at  a  private  meeticg  in  Balliol  College 
in  the  ipring  of  1879. 


260    IDEAL  RELATION  OF  CHURCH  AND  STATE 

that  web  and  the  picture  vanishes;  tumult  unspeakable 
and  bewilderment  appear.  The  order  of  motion  ceases,  the 
plough  is  left  untouched  in  the  furrow,  the  sheep  untended 
on  the  hills,  the  student  closes  his  books,  factories  are 
ruined,  arts  and  learning  lost.  That  wonderful  web  of 
restraint  is  woven  by  the  State;  within  its  meshes  man 
is  safe,  on  breaking  it  he  loses  all.  The  primary  function 
of  the  State  now  is  to  secure  freedom  by  compulsion.  To 
Plato  the  primary  function  of  the  State  was  to  put  every 
man  into  his  place ;  to  us  it  is  freedom — to  enable  every 
man  to  find  his  place.  There  is  no  mention  of  freedom  in 
Plato's  ideal  State;  but  the  whole  history  of  Western 
Europe  is  the  history  of  the  effort  to  obtain  it.  Freedom — 
the  power  to  do  what  we  like — a  little  thing  it  seems,  but 
it  has  been  bought  with  a  great  price.  Only  to-day  has 
freedom  ceased  to  be  the  gospel  of  English  life ;  slowly  has 
it  been  realised.  For  long  the  State,  instead  of  the  guardian, 
was  the  oppressor  of  freedom ;  only  to-day  do  we  see  a  just 
and  transfigured  State  securing  freedom  for  all. 


n 

Religion. — But  this  moving  life-pageant  that  we  behold, 
what  does  it  mean  ?  What  is  the  end  of  this  freedom, 
slowly  won  with  tears  ?  Religion  alone  gives  the  answer — 
religion  the  end  and  bond  of  life.  Man  loved  freedom  that 
he  might  love  God;  the  right  use  of  freedom  is  religion. 
But  what,  cries  man,  is  religion  ?  What  is  the  right  use 
of  freedom  ?  The  ancient  answer  was — to  love  God,  But 
to  love  God,  I  must  have  faith  in  God — how  shall  I  have 
faith  in  God  ?  The  beginning  of  religion  is  the  cry  of  man 
for  a  law  of  life  to  restrain  his  freedom.  The  consciousness 
of  an  ideal  self  which  includes  the  good  of  all,  the  conscious- 
ness of  this  ideal  enshrined  within  the  temple  of  the  mind 
gives  the  answer  to  that  cry.  When  a  man  is  aware  of  the 
presence  of  this  ideal,  the  first  stage  of  faith  has  come. 
The  consciousness  of  an  ideal  is  the  first  stage,  the  recogni- 
tion of  this  ideal  as  the  shadow  of  God,  the  beginning  and 
end  of  all  things,  the  eternal  spirit  of  the  universe,  is  the 
second  stage.    Faith  is  complete  when  a  man  beholds  this 


IDEAL  RELATION  OF  CHURCH  AND  STATE    251 

ideal  as  the  reflection  of  God  within  and  without  him,  as 
God  in  the  unexplored  depths  of  his  own  soul,  as  God  in 
the  unrevealed  secrets  of  the  physical  universe. 

After  faith  comes  knowledge — how  shall  we  know  God  ? 
How  detain  this  ideal  that  hovers  like  winged  light  within 
the  mind  ?  To  know  God  man  must  seek  to  become  God — 
life  is  the  ceaseless  endeavour  to  become  like  God ;  to  enact 
God  in  our  own  souls  and  in  the  world ;  and  though  men 
must  needs  fail,  failure  here  is  the  only  success. 

Thus  by  growth  towards  God  within  himself  a  man  knows 
God ;  and  he  knows  Him  in  yet  a  second  way.  He  scans 
the  human  world,  he  learns  how  the  civilisation  he  lives  in 
was  built  up  by  the  blind  working  of  human  instincts 
ascending  out  of  the  ^vild  disorder  of  the  primeval  conflict ; 
how  institutions,  lavs,  and  knowledge,  slowly  formed  in  the 
lapse  of  ages,  make  possible  his  love  of  Grod.  He  wanders 
through  the  physical  world,  searches  for  the  laws  of  wind 
and  rain,  and  for  the  forces  that  move  the  heavens  and 
make  the  corn  to  grow ;  and  gathering  up  his  knowledge, 
adapts  to  it  his  life,  and  learns  how  to  transform  the  world. 
And  though  the  procession  of  natural  events  treads  man 
down,  though  he  cannot  transform  the  physical  world  as  he 
transforms  the  human  by  faith  and  love  and  knowledge,  yet 
both  the  physical  world  and  the  human  are  to  him  the 
awful  veil  of  a  personal  God  who  inhabits  eternity.  God  is 
a  person — how  else  could  man  love  and  worship  God? 
What  personality  is  we  only  faintly  apprehend — who  has 
withdrawn  the  impenetrable  veil  which  hides  our  own 
personality  from  us  ?  God  is  a  father — but  who  has  ex- 
plained a  father's  love  ? 

There  is  limitation  to  man's  knowledge,  and  he  is  disposed 
to  cry  out,  Why  this  impassable  barrier  ?  He  knows  he  is 
limited,  why  he  is  limited  he  knows  not.  Only  by  some 
image  does  he  strive  to  approach  the  mystery.  The  sea,  he 
may  say,  had  no  voice  until  it  ceased  to  be  supreme  on  the 
globe ;  there,  where  its  dominion  ended  and  its  limits  began, 
on  the  edge  of  the  land,  it  broke  silence.  Man  would  have 
had  no  tongue  had  he  been  merely  infinite  ;  where  he  feels 
his  limits,  where  the  infinite  spirit  within  him  touches  the 
shore  of  his  finite  life,  there  he  too  breaks  silence, 


252     IDEAL  RELATION  OF  CHURCH  AND  STATE 

After  faith  and  knowledge  come  prayer  and  worsBip. 
The  actual  communion  with  the  image  of  God  within  our 
own  souls  is  prayer;  worship  is  the  adoration  of  God  with- 
out us,  thanksgiving  for  the  human  pity  that  seeks  out 
suffering,  for  the  labour  of  our  fellow-men,  for  the  ripened 
corn.  Action  is  the  realisation  of  our  ideal,  the  love  not  of 
ourselves  but  of  our  fellow-men,  the  removal  of  sin  and 
pain,  the  increase  of  knowledge  and  beauty,  the  binding 
together  of  the  whole  world  in  the  bond  of  peace. 


m 

The  Ohv/rch. — How  does  man  maintain  this  religion  which 
I  have  tried  to  define?  By  the  Church — the  organised 
expression  of  the  Spirit  of  God  working  through  the  whole 
people.  As  we  call  the  people  and  the  organised  power  of 
the  people  together  the  State,  so  we  call  the  people  and 
their  religious  organisation  the  Church.  The  visible  em- 
bodiments of  the  Church  are  sacred  buildings,  sacred  books, 
and  ministers;  the  primary  function  of  the  Church  is  to 
secure  the  right  use  of  freedom  by  persuasion.  It  is  an 
organisation  to  keep  alive  in  the  hearts  of  men  faith  in 
God.  Its  ministers  seek  to  cleanse  the  spiritual  vision  of 
men,  to  exalt  men  to  the  highest  deeds  they  are  capable  of, 
by  public  worship,  by  public  prayer,  by  exhortation.  If  we 
looked  now  once  more  at  that  picture  of  the  human  world, 
we  should  behold  no  longer  myriads  of  isolated  beings  pur- 
suing their  own  way,  we  should  see  the  freedom  which 
seems  to  sever  men  binding  them  together ;  we  should  see  a 
vision  of  all  men  drawn  together  by  the  silken  cords  of 
persuasion,  living  no  longer  as  divided  beings  but  in  the 
unity  of  the  Spirit.  Men  separate  in  order  to  re-unite ;  sin 
is  separation,  faith  is  union. 

Religion,  the  desire  to  do  what  is  right !  A  great  thing 
this !  The  whole  of  Plato's  Republic  is  the  attempt  to  draw 
men  to  do  what  is  right.  If  it  has  taken  man  centuries  to 
win  liberty,  how  many  more  centuries  must  pass  away 
before  he  learns  the  right  use  of  liberty !  Nay,  what  has 
not  come  down  to  us  in  the  name  of  religion  itself? — 
division,  bigotry,  persecution.     If  the  State  has  oppressed 


IDEAL  RELATION  OF  CHURCH  AND  STATE    253 

and  stamped  out  freedom,  the  Church  has  misguided  men 
and  stamped  out  religion.  Picture  the  Founder  of  our 
religion  sitting  on  that  mountain  on  which  the  ancient 
prophet  bowed  his  head  in  expectation  of  the  rain-cloud, 
sitting  with  His  face  towards  the  western  sea,  what  a  world 
of  spiritual  ruin  and  calamity  would  He  behold !  If  men 
were  slow  in  building  up  a  power  to  enable  them  to  do 
what  they  like,  how  much  slower  in  building  up  a  power  to 
enable  them  to  do  what  is  right !  We  are  disposed  to  say 
the  true  Church  is  not  yet  come. 


IV 

Relation  of  Church  and  State. — The  State  secures  freedom 
by  compulsion ;  the  Church  teaches  the  right  use  of  freedom 
by  persuasion.  Our  next  question  is,  What  is  the  relation 
between  Church  and  State  ?  We  have  seen  that  an  ideal 
end  is  proposed  for  man's  life,  which  we  may  shortly  define 
as  inward  and  outward  purity,  and  religion  organised  in  the 
Church  seeks  to  attain  it;  but  what  has  the  State  to  do 
with  this  ideal  end  ?  Now  religion  organised  in  the  Church 
has  in  times  past  pursued  two  lines  of  action — First,  it  has 
secluded  itself  from  the  world,  gone  out  of  the  world,  that 
is,  of  the  State ;  and  secondly,  it  has  striven  to  re-enter  the 
world  as  a  conqueror,  to  dominate  the  world,  and  thus  to 
spiritualise  the  world  through  the  organ  of  the  world,  the 
State.  Framing  a  certain  definite  conception  of  the  nature 
of  man's  destiny  and  of  his  relation  to  God,  it  has  sought  to 
impose  this  conception  on  the  world  through  the  State,  to 
mould  the  whole  world  after  its  own  ideal.  The  Church  is 
an  organisation  whioh  has  sought  to  mould  the  world  on  an 
ideal,  as  Plato  sought  to  mould  it  in  the  construction  of  his 
model  State.  In  his  State  the  whole  power  of  the  com- 
munity is  used  to  fashion  life  in  the  light  of  the  conceptions 
discovered  by  philosophy.  We  need  not  pause  over  this 
attempt;  but  the  history  of  the  Christian  Church  is  the 
history  of  an  actual  attempt  to  accomplish  the  same  end 
that  Plato  only  dreamed  of.  Here,  then,  we  have  the 
recognition  of  an  ideal  end  and  an  organisation  devoted  to 
the  accomplishment  of  this  end;  but  we  have  by  its  side 


254       IDEAL  RELATION  OF  CHURCH  AND  STATE 

other  organisations,  and  above  all,  the  State.  To  find  out 
what  is  the  relation  of  the  State  to  this  ideal  end,  we  must 
ask  the  question,  What  is  the  end  of  the  State  ?  And  here 
two  conceptions  meet  us  which  are  fundamentally  opposed. 
First,  that  the  State  is  the  organised  power  of  the  commun- 
ity to  promote  the  material  ends  of  life ;  as  such  it  is 
subordinate  to  the  Church,  which  seeks  to  promote  the 
spiritual  ends  of  life.  Second,  that  the  State  has  the  savie 
end  as  the  Church,  the  promotion  of  the  highest  form  of  life. 
In  this  case  the  Church  is  nothing  more  than  the  State  in 
its  spiritual  aspect,  instead  of,  say,  its  industrial  or  its 
intellectual  aspect.  According  to  this  view,  the  State  pro- 
vides a  spiritual  organisation  as  it  provides  an  industrial 
organisation  for  the  people,  and  this  spiritual  organisation 
is  the  Church. 

Here  are  two  root  ideas  opposed  to  each  other  at  every 
point.  These  two  will  struggle  for  mastery  in  the  future. 
The  conflict  is  between  those  who  maintain  the  secular 
character  of  the  State  and  those  who  maintain  the  spiritual 
character  of  the  State.  The  first  look  on  the  Church  as  a 
light  shining  in  darkness,  as  an  institution  separate  from 
all  other  institutions  in  character  and  aim,  an  institution 
which,  standing  outside  the  world,  seeks  to  re-enter  it  and 
spiritualise  it  In  this  view,  having  been  forced  to  abandon 
its  claim  to  supremacy,  the  Church  now  seeks  to  establish 
its  claim  to  independence.  The  attempt  of  the  State  to 
impose  a  creed  or  an  organisation  on  it  will  be  resisted  to 
the  death ;  a  drunkard  might  as  well  administer  the  Sacra- 
ments. It  is  an  institution  not  created  by  the  world,  but 
one  which  entered  the  world,  and  is  at  war  with  it  to  the 
end  of  time.  The  second  conception,  on  the  other  hand, 
makes  no  sharp  separation  between  the  Church  and  the 
State ;  it  asserts  that  the  aims  of  both  are  the  same,  but  it 
recognises  that  a  special  organisation  is  necessary  to  the 
right  fulfilment  of  the  spiritual  objects  of  life.  It  points 
out  that  from  the  beginning  of  civilisation  the  two  organisa- 
tions have  been  bound  up  together.  It  admits  that  a  war 
between  light  and  darkness  is  going  on  in  the  world, 
but  it  declares  that  light  is  found  in  the  world  as  well 
as  in  the  Church.     It  asserts  that  the  State  is  competent  to 


IDEAL  EELATION  OF  CHURCH  AND  STATE    255 

impose  certain  restrictions  on,  and  to  exercise  control  over 
the  Church,  because  their  aims  are  the  same.  We  must 
choose  between  the  two  conceptions,  and  we  choose  the 
second. 

But  the  problem  may  be  approached  in  another  way. 
Which  will  provide  the  more  efficient  organisation  for  the 
spiritualisation  of  life:  freedom,  or  the  State?  Should 
freedom  not  only  clothe  and  feed  men,  but  also  teach  them 
how  to  live  ?  The  psissionate  discussion  of  to-day  is,  whether 
freedom  ought  to  satisfy  the  spiritual  wants,  as  it  satisfies 
the  physical  wants  of  the  people  ?  My  answer  is.  Freedom 
should  provide  for  the  physical  wants  of  men,  because  by 
freedom  every  man  is  clothed  and  fed  in  the  best  way  with 
the  least  effort.  ^Men's  physical  wants  are  satisfied  in  the 
best  way  by  the  outward  pressure  of  competition;  but 
men's  spiritual  wants  are  satisfied  in  the  best  way  only 
by  the  inward  pressure  of  the  love  of  Grod.  To  satisfy 
men's  physical  wants  you  must  be  dependent,  to  satisfy 
men's  spiritual  wants  you  must  be  independent.  The 
grower  of  corn  and  the  weaver  of  wool  satisfies  men's  wants 
as  he  finds  them;  the  spiritual  teacher  does  not  seek  to 
satisfy  men's  wants  as  he  finds  them,  he  seeks  to  give  men 
higher  wants.  How  can  he  whose  mission  it  is  to  cleanse 
men's  spiritual  vision  be  supported  by  those  who  are  con- 
vinced that  their  vision  is  perfect — how  can  he  whose 
mission  it  is  '  to  raise  men  to  the  highest  deeds  they  are 
capable  of '  be  maintained  by  those  who  are  convinced  that 
their  morality  is  perfect  ?  Where  the  want  is  greatest  it  is 
the  least  felt.  To  teach  the  people  the  ministers  of  religion 
must  be  independent  of  the  people,  to  lead  the  people  they 
must  be  in  advance  of  the  people.  Individual  interests  are 
not  always  public  interests.  It  is  the  public  interest  that  a 
country  should  be  taught  a  pure  and  spiritual  religion,  it  is 
the  interest  of  religious  teachers  to  teach  that  which  will  be 
acceptable  at  the  moment.  It  is  for  the  public  interest  that 
religion  should  be  universal,  that  it  should  be  a  bond  of 
union,  that  it  should  be  progressive.  The  Stat«,  and  not 
the  individual,  is  best  calculated  to  provide  such  a  religion. 
We  saw  before  that  freedom  being  obtained,  it  was  religion 
that  •'    -    '  >  weld  free  but  isolated  beings  into   a    loving 


266    IDEAL  RELATION  OF  CHURCH  AND  STATE 

interdependent  whole.  Which  is  the  more  likely  to  do 
this:  a  religion  wise  and  rational,  comprehensive  and 
universal,  recognising  a  progressive  revelation  of  God,  such 
as  the  State  may  provide,  or  a  religion  provided  by  indi- 
vidual interests  which  is  liable  to  become  what  is  popular 
at  the  moment,  which  accentuates  and  multiplies  divisions, 
which  perpetuates  obsolete  forms,  and  has  no  assurance  of 
universality  of  teaching  ?  It  is  scarcely  too  much  to  say 
that  as  an  independent  producer  can  only  live  by  satisfying 
physical  wants  in  the  best  way,  the  independent  sect  or 
independent  minister  can  only  live  by  satisfying  spiritual 
wants  in  the  worst  way.  If  I  thought  that  Disestablish- 
ment were  best  for  the  spiritual  interests  of  the  people  I 
would  advocate  it,  but  only  on  such  a  principle  can  it  be 
justified,  and  my  argument  is  that  spiritual  evil,  not  good, 
would  attend  it. 

What  is  really  required  is  a  body  of  independent  ministers 
in  contact  at  once  with  the  continuous  revelation  of  God  in 
man  and  in  nature,  and  with  the  religious  life  of  the  people. 
The  State  alone  can  establish  such  a  Church  organisation 
as  shall  insure  the  independence  of  the  minister,  by  secur- 
ing him  his  livelihood  and  protecting  him  from  the  spiritual 
despotism  of  the  people.  I  believe  the  argument  holds 
good  for  religion  as  for  education,  that  it  is  of  such  import- 
ance to  the  State  itself,  to  the  whole  community  collectively, 
that  it  behoves  the  State  not  to  leave  it  to  individual  effort, 
which,  as  in  the  case  of  education,  either  does  not  satisfy 
spiritual  wants  at  all,  or  does  not  satisfy  them  in  the  best 
way.  If  I  chose  to  particularise,  I  might  here  add  that  the 
connection  of  religion  with  the  State  is  the  most  effective 
check  to  sacerdotalism  in  all  its  different  forms,  and  sacer- 
dotalism is  the  form  of  religion  which  can  become  funda- 
mentally dangerous  to  the  State.  It  injures  the  State 
spiritually  by  alienating  the  greatest  number  and  the  most 
intellectual  of  the  members  of  the  State  from  religion 
altogether,  it  injures  the  State  temporally  by  creating  an 
antagonism  between  Church  and  State — a  great  national 
calamity  from  which  we  are  now  entirely  free. 

But  what  religion  is  the  State  to  accept  ?  It  must  accept 
the  historical  religion  of  the  people,  and  impose  certain  con- 


IDEAL  RELATION  OF  CHURCH  AND  STATE     257 

ditions  such  as  shall  preveut  a  development  inconsistent 
with  its  own  existence,  which  shall  secure  a  religion 
universal,  progressive  with  the  people's  life  and  thought, 
and  such  as  shall  be  a  bond  of  union  thrown  around  them. 
The  ideal  Church  is  the  State.  As  the  nation  is  a  spiritual 
and  secular  community,  so  is  the  State  a  spiritual  and 
secular  power.  In  the  pathetic  words  of  Cardinal  Newman, 
Christianity  is  no  longer  the  law  of  the  land ;  but  I  answer, 
True,  yet  by  the  very  removpl  in  such  a  Church  as  I  con- 
template of  those  restrictions,  which  seemed  to  create  an 
artificial  identity  between  the  Church  and  the  nation,  you 
have  created  a  new  and  living  unity  through  which  the 
spirit  of  Christ  breathes  as  it  never  breathed  before.  The 
outward  and  compulsory  bonds  of  the  older  union  are  fast 
disappearing  in  modern  society  ;  they  are  to  be  replaced  by 
better  and  stronger  bonds,  namely,  spiritual  ones.  But  as 
the  State  of  old  recognised  and  enforced  those  past  artificial 
and  temporary  bonds,  so  should  it  recognise  and  identify 
itself  with  the  new  spiritual  and  eternal  bond.  Christianity 
as  a  theological  system  may  cease  to  be  the  law  of  the  land, 
but  Christianity  as  a  disposition  of  the  mind  lives  in  the 
hearts  of  the  people.  We  recognise  now  that  divine  truth 
is  not  the  jealously  guarded  treasure  of  a  sect,  but  the 
common  heritage  of  mankind,  not  a  light  held  up  by  priests 
before  a  forsaken  multitude,  but  that  inner  light  which 
illumines  the  face  of  the  whole  people.  The  State  alone, 
we  believe,  can  secure  this  purer  religion  whose  bond 
shall  be,  not  rigid  dogmas,  but  worship  and  prayer,  union 
in  liturgy  not  in  articles,  whose  sole  object  shall  be 
the  spiritualisation  of  life.  To  all  free  organisations  of 
religion  it  will  grant  protection,  while  it  seeks  slowly  to 
remove  by  persuasion  what  it  will  not  sweep  away  by 
force. 

For  the  spirit  of  God  dwells  not  here  and  not  there,  not  in 
this  sect  or  that,  but  in  the  whole  people.  When  we  behold 
the  desolation,  the  sin,  the  deformity  of  the  world,  how  can 
we  believe  it?  Nevertheless,  God  is  there.  An  ancient 
Italian  city  is  built  upon  a  mountain  torrent,  and  those  who 
ascend  the  encircling  hills  hear  the  voice  of  the  torrent 
above  the  hum  and  traffic  of  the  streets.     So  it  is  with 

B 


268    IDEAL  RELATION  OF  CHUEOH  AND  STATE 

those  who  pause  a  moment  to  listen  in  the  midst  of  the 
world — they  hear,  above  the  din  and  uproar  of  human  life, 
the  voice  of  the  stream  of  God  flowing  from  beneath  the 
eternal  throne. 

Conclusion. — I  have  considered  some  ideal  relations  of 
the  modern  State  as  Pluto  considered  the  ideal  relations  of 
the  ancient  State.  The  actual  relations  of  religion  and  the 
State,  so  difficult,  so  perplexed  by  a  long  history  and  by 
party  politics,  I  have  left  untouched.  But  the  ideal  I  have 
hinted  at  has  a  bearing  on  the  solution  of  the  problem  of 
our  time.  The  discussion  of  that  problem  awaits  us  in  the 
immediate  future.  By  the  discussion  of  principles  we  get 
the  most  effective  education  for  practice.  I  would  further 
insist  especially  on  the  present  importance  of  principles, 
because  this  is  an  age  of  transition.  The  constructive 
positive  stage  which  is  to  follow  it  will  lay  tasks  upon  us 
splendid  though  difficult.  While  the  struggle  for  a  free  State 
lies  behind  us  in  the  past,  the  struggle  for  a  pure  Church 
lies  before  us  in  the  future.  A  pure  Church,  so  far  from 
being  won,  dwells  as  yet  only  in  the  imaginations  of  men. 
Enough  for  us  to-night  to  remember  that  the  spring  of  all 
civilisation  is  the  yearning  for  a  deeper,  wider  personal  life; 
that  freedom  and  religion,  both  not  one  alone,  are  the  con- 
ditions of  that  yearning.  Before  another  generation  is  in 
the  grave  politics  as  a  struggle  for  liberty  will  have  faded 
away ;  but  religion  and  a  pure  Church  are  not  only  not  yet 
won  for  us,  they  are  threatened  as  they  never  were  before 
by  intolerance  and  indifference.  The  struggle  for  religion 
will  be  a  struggle  beside  which  the  struggle  for  freedom 
will  seem  a  little  thing,  and  upon  us,  who  recognise  every 
man  as  a  priest  of  the  Most  High  God,  lies  the  burden  of 
pressing  forward  to  secure  to  the  nation  the  religion  by 
which  it  may  live. 


LEAFLETS  FOfi  WORKING  MEN  259 


LEAFLETS  FOR  WORKING  MEN.    No.  1 
Ihe  Church  and  the  PtopU 

Religion  is  indestructible. 

It  is  not  an  invention  of  priests,  to  be  torn  tip  by  force  or 
•withered  by  enlightenment ;  it  is  a  gift  of  God. 

Elude  it  we  may,  neglect  it,  scorn  it,  deny  it ;  escape  its 
presence  we  cannot,  any  more  than  we  can  escape  from  the 
sky  which  overarches  us,  and  the  air  we  breathe. 

If  then  it  be  indestructible,  if  the  unsuspected  hand  of 
religion  be  upon  all,  upon  all  is  laid  the  duty  to  use  and 
purify  it,  not  vainly  to  attempt  to  ignore  it. 

For  religion,  like  other  gifts  of  God,  may  be  turned  to 
good  or  evil  by  the  will  of  man ;  may  become  a  pure  faith 
or  a  dark  superstition,  a  healer  of  division  or  a  sower  of 
discord,  a  friend  of  progress  or  a  prop  of  injustice,  a  herald 
of  discovery  or  a  hater  of  knowledge. 

What,  then,  can  we  in  England  do  for  religion  ? 

All  that  in  us  lies  to  secure  o  form  of  Christianity  in 
harmony  with  progress^  liberty,  and  knowledge. 

How  can  this  be  obtained  ?  By  making  the  Church  of 
England  a  church  of  intellectual  freedom  and  a  church  of 
the  peopla 

What !  men  cry,  can  this  church  of  an  episcopal  sect,  this 
last  obstinate  remnant  of  a  dead  social  system,  this  institu- 
tion of  feudalism  and  fierce  obstruction,  this  church  of  domi- 
nant classes,  dark  with  memories  of  persecution  and  intoler- 
ance ;  can  such  a  church  as  this  become  a  church  of  freedom 
and  a  church  of  the  people  ? 

Yes,  it  can  !  It  is  for  the  people  to  decide.  Already  the 
Church  of  England  combines  more  than  any  other  church 
in  existence  freedom  of  thought  with  a  hold  on  the  people. 


260  LEAFLETS  FOR  WORKING  MEN 

Reform  it,  assimilate  it  to  the  other  features  of  English 
civilisation,  and  what  of  these  accusations  is  true  now, 
would  then  cease  to  be  true. 

What  are  the  lines  reform  should  take?  Liberty  of 
thought  and  popular  govtmment.  Sweep  away  the  restraints 
which  hamper  the  intellectual  freedom  of  the  minister ;  give 
to  the  people  a  voice  in  the  administration  of  the  parish ; 
abolish  the  proud  isolation  in  which  the  church  has  stood  to 
the  other  churches  of  the  people. 

Then  might  be  seen  a  body  of  ministers,  their  hearts  on 
fire  with  the  love  of  God  and  Christ,  in  living  contact  on 
one  side  with  the  intellectual  movement  of  the  age,  on  the 
other  with  the  political  and  religious  life  of  the  people. 

We  do  not  v/ish  to  force  upon  the  church  any  particular 
body  of  religious  opinions ;  we  wish  to  let  in  more  light  and 
air,  and  leave  the  plant  of  God  to  grow  undisturbed  accord- 
ing to  the  law  of  its  own  nature. 

Two  beliefs  animate  the  advocate  of  a  reformed  church ; 
first,  a  belief  that  without  religion  a  man  M'ere  better  dead ; 
secondly,  a  belief  that  a  Church  of  England  endowed  with  a 
principle  of  movement  would  become  the  purest  witness  to 
God  and  Christ  the  world  has  ever  seen,  and  the  most 
trusted  staff  of  the  people. 

A.  T. 


NOTES    AND    JOTTINGS 

lUliffion. 

The  basis  of  religion  is  independent  of  science.     Theology, 
not  religion,  is  the  antithesis  to  science. 


It  is  vain  to  chafe  at  mystery — it  is  as  appropriate  to 
consciousness  as  clearness  to  the  intellect.  We  are  very 
near  the  fount  of  all  things  when  we  feel  that  there  is 
mystery.  Often  standing  by  the  sea  lulled  by  the  monoto- 
nous roar  of  waves  have  we  thrilled  with  the  sudden  sense 
of  revelation  in  mystery ;  or  moving  s'.viftly  through 
crowded  streets,  startled,  awe-stricken,  and  henceforth  lived 
for  ever  conscious  of  the  mystery  in  human  faces.  So  in 
the  old  days  that  were  before  us,  ofttimea  has  the  secret  of 
things  been  unveiled  to  poets  or  prophets  in  a  flash  of  con- 
sciousness that  might  not  be  translated  into  thoughts.  But 
whence  flashed  the  revelation  ?  Immemorially  has  there 
been  linked  with  the  consciousness  of  the  '  not  ourselves ' 
the  sense  of  right  and  \^ong.  If  we  abstract  the  two 
things  and  keep  them  apart,  we  ask  in  wonder  what  can  be 
the  connection  between  the  sense  of  right  and  wrong,  and 
the  perception  of  wind  and  cloud,  mountain,  river,  and  sun- 
shine ?  And  yet  in  all  ages  they  have  been  bound  together 
in  religion,  whispering  the  spiritual  communion  of  all 
things;  a  communion,  says  Bacon,  that  links  the  smile 
upon  the  human  face  with  the  rippling  of  waters ;  which 
we  feel  in  outer  things,  in  the  sweet  identifying  of  the 
wind-ranged  clouds  of  heaven,  and  the  wave-worn  wrinkles 
on  the  sand,  the  moving  of  the  breeze  among  the  pines,  and 
the  falling  of  breakers  upon  the  beach.  Are  there  not 
moments  when  we  stand  before  what  lies  without  us,  as  on 
rising  ground,  the  eye  dilated,  arm  outstretched,  our  ears 

Ml 


268  NOTES  AND  JOTTINGS 

tingling  with  expectancy  of  coming  sound,  as  of  the  heart 
of  the  wide  world  beating  like  our  own  ?  In  those  seconds 
we  seem  one  with  the  '  not  ourselves ' ;  we  live,  and  it  too 
lives  within  us ;  and  only  in  hailing  it  as  a  being  like  our- 
selves can  we  chant  our  oneness  with  it.  It  is  a  form  of 
speech,  but  it  is  the  speech  within  us  which  has  communion 
with  the  universe. 

Many  are  the  forms  in  which  man  has  sought  revelation 
of  the  great  fact  without  him ;  for  he  could  grasp  it  only  as 
expressed,  revealed.  Under  the  dome  of  St.  Paul's,  we  are 
awed  by  the  feeling  of  vastness,  of  space — it  is  the  infinite 
made  finite ;  under  the  canopy  of  heaven  the  sense  is  lost  in 
infinitude.  And  temporary,  fading  and  passing  as  are  the 
myriad  expressions  that  have  been,  there  is  one  form  of 
immemorial  age,  the  truest  of  all — the  personal.  For  seek- 
ing sympathy  of  the  universe  face  to  face,  has  not  man 
bitterly  upbraided  the  changeless  stars  for  shining  coldly 
down  upon  his  tragedies  of  passion  ?  What  language,  in 
moments  of  unsearchable  agony,  can  he  grasp  but  the 
human,  the  personal?  How  can  creation  thrill  him  with 
sympathy  and  inspire  him  with  strength,  but  as  a  man  of 
sorrows  and  acquainted  with  grief?  For  most  of  us  Christ 
is  the  expression  of  God,  i.e.  the  eternal  fact  within  and  with- 
out us :  In  time  of  peril,  of  failing,  and  of  falsehood  the  one 
power  that  enables  us  to  transcend  weakness  is  the  feeling 
of  the  communion  of  the  two  eternal  facts  through 
Christ.! 

Any  attempt  to  preach  a  purer  religion  must  go  along 
with  attempts  at  social  reform. 

It  is  a  good  thing  that  our  religion  is  not  bound  up  with 
all  our  creeds  and  institutions — progress  would  be  impos- 
sible. But  progress  will  never  be  organic  until  the  religious 
spirit  breathes  through  eveiy  act  and  institution. 


Evidently  the  starting-point  of  religion  and  philosophy  is 

^  The  above  paaaagei  are  from  an  essay  on  'The  Objective  Basis  of 
Religion,'  dated  February  5th,  1874  :  those  which  follow  are  from  note- 
books, and  of  TAfioua  datea. 


RELIGION  26i 

the  same.  It  is  the  faith  that  the  end  of  life  is  righteous- 
ness, and  that  the  -vrorld  is  so  ordered  that  righteousness  is 
possible  through  human  will ;  that  the  end  for  which  the 
universe  came  into  existence  is  also  its  cause ;  that  the  idea 
of  good  is  God,  the  Creator  of  the  universe.  Philosophy 
tries  to  show  how  this  idea  made  the  worid;  religion 
believes  it  simply,  and  asks  no  more.  Philosophy  is  the 
proof  of  the  end,  religion  is  the  assertion  of  the  end. 

Just  as  there  was  a  stage  in  the  history  of  thought,  when 
abstract  terms  did  not  exist,  when  men  spoke  of  natural 
events  in  terms  of  their  own  personality,  so  was  there  a 
time  when  men  could  conceive  no  other  way  of  expressing 
the  majesty  of  God  except  by  miracles,  by  representing 
Him  as  moulding  nature  to  His  will  What  they  cared  for 
was  not  the  truth  of  fads,  hut  the  truth  of  feeling  and 
thxmjhi :  miracles  and  mythology  in  their  beginnings  were 
laruj  iioge.  

The  conception  of  a  Fall  is  the  conception  of  a  possibility 
of  good  not  realised — self-conscious  man  recognised  an 
ideal  which  he  had  not  reached,  but  which  he  felt  he  ought 
to  reach,  and  had  therefore  fallen  from. 


The  assertion,  *  I  can  alter  my  life  and  break  the  chain  of 
habit,'  13  an  echo  of  the  eternal  act  of  creation. 


The  indestructible  sense  that  somehow  in  realising  our 
own  idea  of  perfection,  we  are  rescuing  the  sad  world  from 
a  misery  we  cannot  directly  alleviate,  is  projected  in  the 
idea  of  the  crucifixion  of  Christ  for  the  whole  human  race. 


It  is  not  when  we  are  resisting  temptation  that  we  feel 
at  our  best,  but  in  some  still  moment  of  passionate  vision 
or  contemplation.  Our  idea  of  good  has  a  full  and  positive 
meaning  apart  from  the  existence  of  evil  either  as  a  distinct 
force  or  negation.        

Observe — man  is  placed  at  the  centre  of  the  religious  and 


264  NOTES  AND  JOTTINGS 

moral  systems  when  he  has  ceasM  to  be  the  centre  of  the 
physical  universe. 

Two  mighty  opposites  have  to  be  reconciled,  the  energy 
of  spiritual  affirmation  that  breathes  in  the  Hebrew  and 
Christian  Scriptures,  and  the  inquisitive  search  for  truth  of 
Greek  philosophy.  The  two  spirits  cannot  be  better  con- 
trasted than  by  placing  side  by  side  two  sentences,  one 
from  the  Gospel  of  St.  John, '  I  am  the  way,  the  truth,  and 
the  life; 'the  other  from  the  Republic  of  Plato:  'Let  us 
follow  the  argument  whithersoever  it  leads  us.' 

Had  liberal  theologians  in  England  combined  more  often 
with  their  undoubted  courage  and  warmth  definite  philo- 
sophic views,  religious  liberalism  would  not  now  be  con- 
demned as  offering  nothing  more  than  a  mere  sentiment  of 
vague  benevolence.  Earnest  and  thoughtful  people  are 
willing  to  encounter  the  difficulty  of  mastering  some  un- 
familiar phrases  of  technical  language  when  they  find  they 
are  in  possession  of  a  sharply  defined  intellectual  position 
upon  which  their  religious  faith  may  rest 

Note  how  English  communistic  ideas  come  from  the  New 
Testament ;  French  from  the  Eoman  *  law  natural '  extended 
to  a  'state  of  nature.'  Note  also  the  enormous  gulf 
between  the  abstract  intellectual  conceptions  of  the  French, 
and  their  practical  life  before  the  Revolution — an  intel- 
lectual idea  thoroughly  realised  by  all  in  abstract,  continu- 
ally denied  and  ignored  in  practice.  Compare  the 
intellectual  acknowledgment  of  Christian  morality  else- 
where and  its  denial  in  practice. 


Immortality  and  the  End  of  Life. 

A  moral  consciousness  implies  two  things — God  and  im- 
mortality. I  mean  that  God  and  immortality  are  the 
logical  conditions  of  it.  Tentatively  one  may  say,  (1.)  All 
moral  action  implies  an  ideal  and  actual  order  and  end  — 
God.  (2,)  All  moral  action  implies  permanence  of  relatioua 
=  Immortality.  


IMMORTALITY  AND  THE  END  OF  LIFE      265 

We  do  believe  it  would  be  irrational  to  try  to  be  good  if 
til  3  course  of  the  world  were  not  ordered  for  holiness  and 
justice.  

If  an  astronomer  show  that  the  earth  within  a  limited 
time  must  be  destroyed,  and  the  race  with  it,  where  is  our 
hope  of  the  happiness  and  perfectibility  of  the  race  ?  We 
want  an  eternal  end ;  and  this  cannot  be  found  in  the  good 
of  the  human  race. 

The  horror  of  thinking  an  impure  thought  is  quite  out  of 
proportion  to  its  possible  effect  upon  the  character,  and 
therefore  upon  the  race ;  the  horror  at  the  wrong  done  in 
the  face  of  a  divine  self  transcending  the  limits  of  our 
personality,  the  feeling  that  it  is  wrong  in  the  sight  of  a 
pure  God,  is  to  many  the  secret  of  God's  existence,  and  the 
secret,  that  the  end  of  life  is  to  live  to  God. 


Humanity  is  an  abstraction  manufactured  by  the  intellect, 
and  can  never  be  the  object  of  religion ;  for  religion  in  every 
form  demands  something  that  lives  and  is  not  made.  It  is 
the  vision  of  a  living  Being  that  makes  the  Psalmist  cry, 
'  As  the  hart  panteth  after  the  water  brooks,  so  panteth  my 
soul  after  thee,  O  God.' 


Is  there  a  difference  in  seeking  happiness  for  self  and 
seeking  it  for  the  race  ?  Yes,  undoubtedly.  The  latter 
involves  the  fundamental  conception  of  living  for  an  end 
other  than  self.  The  error  consists  in  aiming  at  a  lower 
good  for  the  race  than  for  the  individual  What  end,  then, 
should  the  individual  seek  ?  Should  he  seek  the  righteous- 
ness of  the  race  ?  Yes  and  no.  Yes,  for  the  end  of  life  is 
righteousness;  yet  not  a  righteousness  dependent  on  the 
existence  of  the  human  race,  but  eternaL  The  human  race 
may  pass  away  as  the  individual  passes  away,  but  righteous- 
ness shall  not  cease.  Action  and  life  demand  an  eternal 
end  to  rest  in ;  happiness  which  each  individual  finds  unreal, 
the  human  race,  an  aggregate  of  individuals,  must  find 
unreal ;  it  cannot  be  the  eternal,  unchangeable  end  either 
for  the  individual  or  the  ruce.     The  race*  may,  nay,  will 


266  NOTES  AND  JOTTINGS 

vanish ;  what  a  pitiful  end  then  must  the  happiness  of  it  be 
— the  unreal  existence  of  a  transient  shadow!  And  if 
righteousness  were  inseparably  bound  up  with  the  existence 
of  the  race,  it,  too,  woidd  be  but  an  unreal,  unsubstantial 
end.  But  the  righteousness  which  the  individual  seeks,  and 
which  results  in  the  happiness  of  the  race,  as  the  condition 
of  the  search  after  righteousness  in  this  world,  is  eternal 
and  unchangeable ;  the  end  and  maker  of  all  things,  the 
rest  the  soul  ever  seeks,  the  divine  peace. 


There  is,  first,  the  selfishness  of  each  man  for  himself; 
and,  second,  of  all  men  for  all  men  and  each  other.  The 
true  glory  of  life  is  the  devotion  of  all  men  to  an  eternal 
principle. 

What  is  immortality?  Is  the  self-conscious  self  immortal? 
Is  the  desire  of  immortality  a  mere  shrinking  from  death  ? 
or  a  vain  conceit  of  the  dignity  of  human  existence  ?  What 
is  the  fundamental  idea  involved  in  the  beliefs  about  im- 
mortality? This — that  duty,  passion,  and  pain  have  no 
meaning  except  in  relation  to  an  eternal  something.  All  life 
is  a  search  for  the  real :  man  seeks  reality  from  the  moment 
he  feels  and  thinks  upon  his  feelings ;  he  rests  not  till  he 
unveils  the  secret  of  existence. 

The  belief  in  immortality  is  the  expression  of  the  gradual 
consciousness  of  man  of  the  order  implicit  in  his  history. 


Most  terrible  is  the  effect  of  the  Reign  of  Law  on  the 
belief  in  immortality.  Fever  and  despair  come  upon  action, 
and  the  assertion  that  this  world  is  all  in  all,  narrows  and 
perverts  the  world  of  ethical  science.  And  indeed  it  is  very 
awful,  that  great  contrast  of  the  Divine  Fate  of  the  world 
pacing  on  resistless  and  merciless,  and  our  passionate  indi- 
viduality with  its  hopes,  and  loves,  and  fears;  that  vision 
of  our  warm,  throbbing  personal  life  quenched  for  ever  in 
the  stern  sweep  of  Time.  But  it  is  but  a  passing  picture  of 
the  mind  ;  soon  the  great  thought  dawns  upon  the  soul:  '  It 
is  I,  this  living,  feeling  man,  that  thinks  of  fate  and  oblivion; 
I  cannot  reach  the  stars  with  my  hands,  but  I  pierce  beyond 


IMMOHTALITY  AND  THE  END  OF  LIFE      267 

them  with  my  thoughts,  and  if  things  go  on  in  the  illimit- 
able depth  of  the  skies  which  would  shrivel  up  the  imagina- 
tion like  a  dead  leaf,  I  am  greater  than  they,  for  I  ask 
"why,"  and  look  before  and  after,  and  draw  all  things  into 
the  tumult  of  my  personal  life — the  stars  in  their  courses, 
and  the  whole  past  and  future  of  the  universe,  all  things  as 
they  move  in  their  eternal  paths,  even  as  the  tiniest  pool 
reflects  the  sun  and  the  everlasting  hills.' 

Like  all  great  intellectual  revolutions,  the  effect  of  the 
Reign  of  Law  upon  ethical  temper  has  been  harassing  and 
disturbing ;  but  as  every  great  intellectual  movement  has  in 
the  end  raised  and  ennobled  the  moral  character  of  man 
through  the  purification  of  his  beliefs,  so  will  this  great 
conception  leave  us  the  belief  in  God  and  the  belief  in  im- 
mortality purified  and  elevated,  strengthening  through  them 
the  spirit  of  unselfishness  which  it  is  already  beginning  to 
intensify  and  which  makes  us  turn  our  faces  to  the  future 
with  an  ever-growing  hope. 


It  is  a  little  strange  that  the  belief  in  universal  order 
should  have  resulted  in  a  conviction  that  there  is  no  abso- 
lute end,  that  the  fact  of  things  must  for  ever  remain  un- 
known. The  mood  is  due  to  the  imagination  rather  than  to 
the  reason ;  for  the  conception  of  order  without  an  end  is 
contradictory ;  and  if  man  is  related  to  the  world  through 
his  intellect,  it  is  rational  to  suppose  that  he  is  related  to  it 
through  the  highest  feelings  of  his  nature.  The  men  of 
science  have  forgotten  the  deep  saying  of  him  who  first 
imagined  modern  science,  that  there  are  some  things  which 
can  only  be  known  rightly  under  conditions  of  emotion,  and 
because  they  have  reached  all  the  results  of  their  knowledge 
by  a  rigid  elimination  of  emotion,  they  reject  it  as  the 
interpreter  of  life  and  outer  things,  no  longer  daring  to 
believe  in  that  kinship  of  man  and  nature  which  makes  the 
cry  of  a  child,  heard  breaking  the  stillness  of  the  open  land, 
seem  the  voice  of  the  whole  world-  Such  emotions  will 
some  day  find  adequate  expression  in  Reason :  and  man  will 
learn  that  the  mystery  of  life  comes  from  his  own  infinity, 
and  not  because  the  truth  of  God  c^ui  never  be  known 


268  NOTES  AND  JOTTINGS 

Church  and  State. 

The  State  divorced  from  religion  becomes  Antichrist  in 
reality.  All  the  most  powerful  emotions  of  society  are 
enlisted  against  it. 

It  is  said  that  the  State  ought  to  be  secular,  because 
history  proves  that  the  connection  between  Church  and 
State  has  debased  religion  and  injured  the  people.  Answer : 
History  proves  that  State  interference  with  industry  was  bad; 
that  is  no  reason  for  the  State  leaving  industry  alone  alto- 
gether. So  with  religion — the  most  delicate  and  precious  of 
all  human  interests.  And  a  democratic  State  differs  from  a 
monarchical  or  aristocratic  State.  A  State  cannot  found  or 
initiate  religion,  but  it  can  support  and  sustain  religion. 


Feudalism  in  the  Church  will  be  destroyed  by  the  growth 
of  democracy  and  the  reformation  of  the  land  system.  If 
we  destroy  feudalism,  we  must  take  care  to  substitute  other 
personal  moral  relations  betv^een  classes.  Let  us  destroy 
feudalism,  but  let  us  institute  a  divine  democracy. 


Competition. 

Competition,  or  the  unimpeded  pressure  of  individual  on 
individual,  has  been  from  the  beginning  a  great  force  in 
societies;  but  of  old  it  was  hindered  and  controlled  by 
custom ;  in  the  future,  like  the  other  great  physical  forces 
of  society,  it  will  be  controlled  by  morality. 


Competition  has  brought  about  two  great  opposing 
opinions ;  one  that  government  should  do  nothing,  the  other 
that  it  should  do  everything.  The  first  arises  from  the 
contemplation  of  the  immense  wealth  heaped  up  under  a 
system  of  unimpeded  individual  action,  and  of  the  extra- 
ordinary folly  and  selfishness  of  the  customs  and  legislation 
that  controlled  such  action  in  the  past.  The  second  arises 
from  the  sufferings  which  unimpeded  individualism  has 
brought  upon  the  working  classes,  who  cry  out  that  Govern- 
ment is  bound  to  protect  them  from  misery  and  starvatioa 


IITDIVIDUALISM  AND  SOCIALISM  269 

Competition  has  been  most  successful  in  increasing  the 
efficiency  of  production ;  distribution  has  lost  perhaps  more 
than  it  has  gained  by  it.  And  the  problem  of  distribution 
is  the  true  problem  of  political  economy  at  the  present  time. 

Cannot  the  principle  of  self  destroy  as  well  as  found 
society  ?  Yes  ;  self-interest  must  be  followed  by  self-sacri- 
fice, or  society  will  dissolve.  Through  the  principle  of  self- 
interest  society  comes  into  being ;  through  ita  annihilation 
will  it  endure. 

Individualism  and  Socialism. 

There  is  an  undoubted  connection  between  the  break-up  of 
the  old  system  of  industry,  the  system  of  small  manu- 
facturers, and  the  growth  of  individualism, — a  connection, 
that  is,  between  the  rise  of  factories  and  the  development  of 
individual  liberty.       

The  law  of  human  movement  in  historical  times  is  from 
natural  groups  to  individualism,  and  from  individualism  to 
moral  groups.  The  primitive  blood  associations  re-appear 
after  a  stage  of  individualism  in  moral  guilds.  '  Associa- 
tion is  the  watchword  of  the  future.'  The  problem  of  the 
genuine  Socialist  is  to  lay  down  the  conditions  of  union  and 
its  purposes.  In  the  past,  all  associations  had  their  origin 
in  unconscious  physical  motives ;  in  the  future,  all  associa- 
tions will  have  their  origin  in  conscious  ethical  motives. 
Here,  as  in  many  other  things,  the  latest  and  most  perfect 
development  of  society  seems  to  be  anticipated  in  its  out- 
ward form  by  the  most  primitive ;  but  the  inner  life  of  the 
form  has  changed.       

The  differentiation  of  functions  should  promote  the  unity 
of  spirit.  Differentiation  only  takes  place  in  order  that  a 
higher  unity  may  be  reached.  Differentiation  of  functions 
and  not  differentiation  of  spirit  is  what  we  desire.  The 
unity  of  spirit  is  the  cause  of  the  separation  of  functions ; 
the  separation  of  functions  has  for  its  end  the  unity  of  the 
spiritual  universe. 


270  NOTES  AND  JOTTINGS 

The  woman  is  only  emancipated  from  the  man  that  they 
may  re-unite  in  a  higher  communion  of  life  and  purpose. 
The  workman  ia  only  emancipated  from  the  employer  that 
they  may  re-unite  in  a  higher  communion  of  life  and  purpose. 
The  individual  is  only  emancipated  from  the  control  of  the 
community  that  he  may  consciously  devote  himself  to  more 
intimate  union  with  the  community. 

The  end  and  law  of  progress  is  the  unity  of  the  human 
spirit.  This  can  only  be  attained  through  separation  of 
functions.  In  the  industrial  world  there  is  separation  of 
functions — its  ideal  is  unity  of  industrial  purpose.  This 
unity  can  only  be  attained  through  association ;  but  associa- 
tion implies  a  higher  unity  than  the  industrial  one.  It  im- 
plies a  unity  of  the  ethical  spirit. 

Differentiation  is  wrong  where  it  produces  division  of 
spirit ;  it  is  right  where  it  produces  unity  of  spirit.  Art,  in 
order  to  progress,  had  to  separate  from  religion;  but  the 
noblest  works  of  art  were  created  in  the  service  of  religion, 
the  noblest  buildings,  the  noblest  statues ;  art,  in  order  to 
be  great  once  more,  will  be  united,  not  to  religion,  but  to 
the  religious  spirit  breathing  through  the  communities. 


Certain  Fallacies. 

If  justice  in  its  beginning  was  the  compromise  between 
the  many  weak  against  the  few  strong,  it  is  inferred  that 
this  is  the  character  of  justice  now.  This  is  due  to  want  of 
historic  sense.  The  nature  of  a  thing  is  always  more  than 
its  origin  tells  of. 

Take  note  of  two  supreme  fallacies :  (1.)  The  confusion 
of  definiteness  with  definition — because  you  can't  define  a 
thing,  you  haven't  a  definite  idea  of  it — e.g.  self,  God, 
emotion.  (2.)  That  to  explain  a  thing  is  to  explain  it  away 
— e.g.  as  if  a  man  who  was  told  that  the  seat  of  sensation  is 
in  the  brain,  not  in  the  tip  of  the  finger  pricked,  were  to 
believe  that  he  did  not  feel  pain  at  the  end  of  the  finger. 


Adam  Smith  generalised  his  laws  of  Political  Economy 
from  the  assumption  that  all  human  beings  were   selfish ; 


EXPRESSION  ill 

disregarding  the  fact  of  disinterestedness  and  the  like, 
which  make  the  science  much  more  difficult,  perhaps  impos- 
sible. So  scientific  men  have  made  their  discoveries  by 
looking  upon  nature  as  absolute  and  objective,  by  eliminat- 
ing man  and  his  interpretation  of  it  in  terms  of  his  own 
experience.  We  are  now  in  danger  of  forgetting  the 
humanity  of  nature;  we  are  all  beginning  to  look  upon 
nature  as  men  of  science  look  at  it,  to  laugh  to  scorn  the  old 
ideas  of  man  which  found  himself  there. 


It  is  in  the  Greek  world  that  the  action  of  the  law 
of  symbolism  comes  out  most  clearly.  Under  the  impulse 
to  interpret,  man  creates  a  symbolism,  the  reflex  of  himself, 
which  in  after  generations,  its  original  meaning  forgotten, 
grows  into  a  distinct  world,  veiling  and  transforming  the 
real  world,  and  seeking  explanation  for  itself.  From  the 
ages  when  the  Greek  mythology  rose  like  a  bright  exhala- 
tion in  the  morning  out  of  the  metaphors  of  the  natural 
world  to  answer  the  first  pulsations  of  man's  spiritual  life, 
to  the  later  ages  of  modern  history,  the  real  world  has 
remained  almost  unknown. 


The  Individiuil. 


Philosophy  can  explain  the  world  if  it  looks  upon  man  as 
nothing  more  than  a  drop  of  acid  or  a  bit  of  mineral ;  but 
the  individual  is  the  cross  light  which  confuses  the  broad 
light  of  explanation. 

The  individual  in  physical  science  is  nothing;  in  human 
science  everything. 


Expression. 

How  strange  it  is  to  put  out  one's  most  sacred  and  fullest 
feelings  in  carefully  chosen  words  and  set  them  before  the 
world  !  How  strange  the  contrast  between  the  panic  mood 
of  utmost  pain  in  which  the  feeling  flashed  upon  one  as  a 
torment,  and  the  quiet  diligence  with  which  one  elaborate!? 
it  in  expression,  thrusting  it  from  one  with  cool  delibera- 


272  NOTES  AND  JOTTINGS 

tion,  weighing  word  against  word,  and  sucking  in  intenaest 
pleasure  out  of  the  memory  of  deathly  pain.  Is  it  that  our 
own  feelings  are  not  our  own,  our  own  agony  not  for  our- 
selves, that  God  demands  them  for  Himself,  drawing  from 
us  what  would  madden  if  left  within  us  ?  And  yet,  ah  me ! 
how  cold  and  hard  the  soul  seems  when  it  dwells  even  on 
its  own  pain  in  the  past,  how  the  warm  flush  of  feeling  for 
the  sufferer  dies  in  the  cunning  working  of  the  thing  for 
God !  Who  shall  bridge  the  chasm  and  be  for  ever  im- 
passioned and  sincere  ? 

Blank  vsrse  is  upheld  in  tragedy  as  in  fact  more  nearly 
approaching  the  language  of  men  deeply  and  passionately 
stirred.  Passion  expresses  itself  in  rhythmical  language. 
This  may  be  said  of  the  language  of  all  the  great  sailors  of 
Elizabeth's  time,  indeed  of  all  the  prose  writing  of  the 
time,  more  or  less.  Look  at  Gilbert,  Raleigh,  Spenser  (on 
Ireland),  Hooker,  how  the  great  passion  thrilling  the  nation 
makes  itself  felt  in  their  noble  poetical  language. 


Sentiment. 

The  English  Rebellion  and  the  French  Revolution  have 
often  been  compared,  but  I  do  not  know  whether  what 
seems  their  most  marked  and  essential  difference  has  ever 
been  noted.  The  first  was  distinguished  by  an  entire  de- 
votion to  God  and  an  absence  of  all  sentiment ;  the  second 
by  an  entire  appeal  to  sentiment  and  indifference  to  God. 


In  no  great  religious  movement  has  philanthropy  been 
very  strong,  or  rather  sentiment  or  pity — the  consciousness 
of  sin  has  been  too  strong. 


Some  natures  are  intensely  sensitive  without  being  sym- 
pathetic. In  these  natures  feeling  is  sentiment;  for  sym- 
pathy is  feeling  related  to  an  object,  whilst  sentiment  is  the 
same  feeling  seeking  itself  alone. 


Utilitarianism  is  a  cause  of  sentiment  in  making  the  end 


VAEIOUS  APHORISMS  J78 

of  action  the  happiness  or  pleasure  of  human  beings ;  sym- 
pathy with  pain  alone  is  sentiment. 


Mere  sensuous  images  cannot  bring  back  love  and  sym- 
pathy in  absence ;  the  mighty  conception  of  duty  can. 


Various  Aphorisms. 


The  organisation  of  the  world  is  not  for  happiness ;  from 
this  fact  are  drawn  the  ordinary  arguments  against  design ; 
it  is  for  something  else. 


Man  first  interpreted  the  outer  world  by  himself — now 
himself  by  the  outer  world. 


Man  seeks  pleasure  and  self — great  unforeseen  results 
follow :  man  seeks  God  and  others — and  there  follows 
pleasure. 

The  secret  of  progress,  the  perpetual  satisfying  of  wants 
followed  by  the  springing  up  of  new  wants,  is  the  secret  of 
individual  unrest  and  disappointment. 

To  the  ancients  the  intellect  was  the  most  enduring  part 
of  man — to  us  the  emotions. 


Beauty  and  holiness  are  both  indefinable ;  the  belief  in  a 
perfect  holiness  is  like  Columbus's  belief  in  a  new  world — 
some  day  we  shall  find  it  on  the  other  side  the  ocean  of 
existence.  There  are  things  m  man  which  the  eye  of  the 
mind  can  never  see  in  life,  as  the  eye  of  the  body  can 
never  see  the  heart  aUve ;  life  flies  the  surgeon's  knife. 


The   sense   of   beauty   is   the   greatest   restraint   uDon 


fanaticism. 


The  soul  demands  not  a  refuge,  but  a  resting-place. 


374  NOTES  AND  JOTTINGS 

Images. 

A  figure  standing  in  relief  against  a  cloudless  sky-line  ia 
a  solemn  thing ;  it  is  man  in  the  embrace  of  the  infinite. 


Some  people's  minds  are  like  a  place  of  public  meeting — 
all  kinds  of  opinions  appear  there  in  turn,  and  leave  it  just 
as  they  found  it,  empty  and  open  to  every  comer. 

We  ascend  the  hill-tops  of  philosophy,  not  to  gaze  up  at 
the  ever- visible  heavens,  but  to  embrace  in  one  grand  view 
the  human  world  beneath  us. 


It  is  upon  the  noblest  natures  that  the  greatest  weight  of 
sorrow  falls ;  as  the  broad  branches  of  the  cedar  are  broken 
by  the  snow,  which  falls  away  from  other  trees. 


A  wonderful  image  of  life  —  a  fierce  wind  blowing  at 
evening  from  a  cloudless  sky,  rocking  the  great  firs  to  and 
fro,  and  roaring  amongst  their  branches,  whilst  upon  their 
tall  stems  rests  the  quiet  light  of  the  declining  sun. 


After  all,  a  learned  man  is  often  not  much  better  off  than 
a  man  who  knows  a  great  many  commonplace  people. 


To  make  a  politic  speech  is  like  being  carried  up  a  flight 
of  steps  by  the  pressure  of  a  crowd. 


It  is  well  that  the  beaten  ways  of  the  world  get  trodden 
into  mud :  we  are  thus  forced  to  seek  new  paths  and  pick 
out  new  lines  of  life. 

A  city  lying  in  a  wave  of  sunshine,  with  its  spires  and 
domes  pale  and  unsubstantial  as  in  a  fairy's  dream ;  the 
wave  flows  on  and  shadows  follow,  spires  and  domes  are 
dark  and  clear,  every  detail  is  seen  and  marked — sorrow 
makes  life  and  all  things  dark  and  real ;  spiritual  joy  make* 
the  world  a  dreamland. 


IMAGES  375 

To  sit  in  an  old  church,  with  the  birds  twittering  in  the 
eaves,  looking  through  the  open  door  at  the  far-off  land  and 
winding  river,  half  curtained  by  the  green  glancing  leafy 
boughs  that  overhang  the  porch — oh  Grod !  how  sweet  an 
image  of  those  still  moments  of  passion  that  steal  like  even- 
ing shadows  over  the  fret  and  uproar  of  existence  I 

Those  laughing  bells,  those  melancholy  sobbing  beUa, 
how  like  our  life — they  fade  and  ebb,  they  swing  in  faintest 
waves  of  dying  sound,  and  then  the  strained  ear  is  left 
forlorn — but  the  unheard  motion  flows  through  the  infinite 
for  ever,  and  fills  the  heavens  with  joy. 


Our  delicate,  impalpable  sorrows,  our  keen,  aching,  darling 
emotions,  how  strange,  almost  unreal  they  seem  by  the  side 
of  the  gross  maas  of  filthy  misery  that  clogs  the  life  of  great 
cities  ? 

What  an  odd  thing  this  personality  is  with  its  strange 
vistas  of  complicated  memory  and  association ;  how  bleak 
and  empty  is  the  world  outside  it ! 


Oh  !  Time,  hast  thou  no  memory  ?  The  bright  pictures 
of  glancing  life,  are  they  gone  with  those  dead  ones,  who 
clasped  hands  and  shouted  ?  or  not  without  a  smile  dost 
thou  remember  them,  dreaming  f 


Man  is  but  a  snowflake ;  he  falls  from  the  bosom  of  the 
clouds,  a  tiny  separate  thing  blown  and  driven  by  bitter 
winds,  and  drops  to  earth  at  last,  extinguished  and  trodden 
out  by  Fate  or  Time. 

Huddled  together  on  our  little  earth  we  gaze  with 
frightened  eyes  into  the  dark  universe. 


Man  lifts  his  head  for  one  moment  above  the  waves,  gives 
one  wild  glance  around,  and  perishes.  But  that  glance,  was 
it  for  nothing  ? 


INDEX 


Acts  of  Parliament,  $ee  Statutes. 

Adulteration  Acts,  63. 

Agriculture    in     1760,     13-22,     194; 

changes  in  eighteenth  and  nineteenth 

centuries,  67-9,  206,  207. 
Agricnltnral    Labourer,    condition    in 

eighteenth     century,      45-50,      107- 

108. 
Agricultnnd  Labourers'  Union,  49. 
Allowance  system,  83-5. 
Ajnerica,   trade  with,  84 ;  commercial 

policy  towards,  60  ;  strikea  in,  1S7. 
Anderson,  James,  114,  149. 
Apprentices,  Statute  of,  51,  52. 
Arbitration,  53,  18d-8. 
Ark  Wright,  water-frame,  70. 
Armies,    connection    with    mercantile 

system,  55. 
Arnold,  Dr.,  208,  231. 

Baoehot,  Waltbb,  quoted,  87  note  1, 

88,  110,  111,  142. 
Baines,  Edward,  28. 
Bakewell,  20. 
Balance  of  Trade,  65,  56. 
Banking,  82. 
Beaconsfield,  Sybil,  226. 
Benevolence  must  be  made  scientific, 

74. 
Bentham,  on  Ricardo,  140. 
Bolton,  the  'siege'  of,  221. 
Brassey,  Sir  Thomas,  177,  131. 
Brentano,  Lujo,  76. 
Building  societies,  235. 
Burke  quoted,  83  noU. 

Caibnm,  J.  B.,  Ill,  122,  147,  160. 

Canals,  28,  71. 

Capitalist,    his    function    to    advance 

wages,  104,  105. 
Capitalist  srstem,  growth  o^  in  mana- 

factures.  29-31,  204,  205. 
Carlyle,  226 ;    on   cash-payment,    132, 

162  ;  Past  aiid  Present  (1843),  209-11. 
Carpenters"  wages  1S33  to  1876,  122. 


Carron  Ironworks,  203. 

Cartwright,  power-loom,  70. 

'Cash-nems,'  73,  132,  163,  210,  215. 

CLamberlavne,  John,  Present  Stite  <tf 
Great  Britain,  37.  46  note  5. 

Chartists,  210,  211,  222-3 ;  Tory,  224-5. 

Child  labour,  92. 

Child,  Sir  Josiah,  A  yev>  Ditcourae  of 
Trad*  (1693),  52. 

Classes,  change  in  relative  position,  49, 
71-2. 

Cloth,  fine,  23,  24. 

Clothiers  around  H&lifax,  29-30 ;  Leeda, 
195. 

Clover,  introduction  of.  19. 

Cobbett,  WUliam.  68,  72,  199,  l--y!. 

Cobden,  Rkhard,  222,  231. 

Coleridge,  on  Political  Economy,  162. 

Colonies,  trade  with,  84 ;  commercial 
policy  towards,  60. 

Combination  of  labourers,  its  necessity 
not  seen  by  Adam  Smith,  16i ;  laws 
against,  53.  183,  200.  202,  211,  212. 

Common-fields,  14;  badly  tilled,  14, 
15,  69. 

Coirmon-rlghts,  value  of,  47. 

Commons  and  wastes,  enclosure  of,  81, 
82. 

Communications  in  eighteenth  century, 
197-8. 

Communism,  134-5. 

Comp&aiei*,  tradirig,  Adam  Smith's 
arguments  against,  53-4. 

Competition,  postulate  of  Ricardo, 
141 ;  of  unequal  industrial  units, 
154  :  neither  good  nor  evil,  67,  157  ; 
can  be  controlled,  not  destroyed, 
166-7 ;  like  a  stream,  67,  157 ;  sup- 
posed beneficial  results,  62 ;  all 
not  struggle  for  existence,  65-6 ; 
civilisation  means  interference  with, 
66 ;  causes  progress,  C6  ;  difference 
between  production  and  distribution, 
66  ;  controlled  by  custom  and  moral- 
ity.  268. 


278 


INDEX 


Comte,  5  vote  3,  133. 

CJonciliation,  Boards  of,  63,  133,  18G, 

188,  214,  217. 
Consolidation  of  farms,  68-9  ;  increased 

pauperism,  80-1. 
Conspiracy,  law  of,  212. 
Consumers,    need    protection,     62-3; 

word  'consumer'  misleading,  179. 
Contract,  regulated  and  unregulated, 

6-6,  111-12. 
Cooper,  Thomas,  208,  223. 
Co-operation,  129,  130-1,  231,  240-2. 
Corn-laws,  117-18,  223.^ 
Corporations,   supervision  of  industry 

by,  52. 
Cottages,  'open  war  against,'  47,  84; 

rise  in  rents,  163. 
Cotton   industry    in  1760,    26,    l^r>; 

character  altered  by  four  inventions, 

70,  204-5. 
Crape,  24. 

Crompton's  mule,  70. 
CuUey,  20. 

Dab  WIN  and  Mai  thus,  90. 

Deductive  method,  why  adopted  by 
Ricardo,  143 ;  value,  2,  138 ;  misuse, 
3 ;  as  used  by  Ricardo,  110. 

Defoe,  Daniel,  Tour  through  England, 
9,  24,  25 ;  on  small  manufactures, 
29-30,  37,  40;  drill  husbandry, 
21. 

Democracy  makes  it  possible  to  nreach 
duty,  216. 

Density  of  population,  67-8. 

De  Quincey,  on  Ricardo,  138. 

Diminishing  returns,  law  of,  86-7. 

Distribution,  163 ;  under  system  of 
competition,  65,  66  ;  changes  owing 
to  altered  conditions,  71-2 ;  the  pro- 
blem of  the  present,  119-20,  269. 

Division  of  labour,  28. 

Domestic  system  of  industry,  63-4 ; 
definition  of,  196 ;  relations  between 
classes,  198-9,  206;  replaced  by 
factory  system,  69-70 ;  '  essential 
difference'  from  factory  system,  71  ; 
influence  of  its  destruction  on  agri- 
culture, 43. 

Doubleday,  88. 

Drill-husbandry,  21. 

Dutch,  rivalry  with,  66-7. 

East  India  CoMPANi'  and  export  of 
bullion,  56. 

Economics,  relation  to  morality,  163  ; 
development  in  England,  64-5 ;  dis- 
tinction   between    theoretical     and 


practical,  169,  IQl ;  economics  and 
the  working  classes,  172-3,  190-1. 

Eden,  State  of  the  Poor,  quoted,  46, 
62-3,  68 ;  on  increase  of  pauperism 
by  eviction  and  enclosure,  80- 1,  91 
note  1. 

Elizabeth,  Statute  of  Apprentices,  61. 

Emigration,  93. 

Employer,  functions  of,  174-5. 

Enclosures,  14 ;  of  sixteenth  century, 
16-17 ;  of  eighteenth,  carried  out 
unfairly,  41-3  ;  Bills,  17 ;  bring  about 
scientific  culture,  69 ;  cause  increase 
of  pauperism,  80-1, 108. 

Engineers,  49,  129. 

Eure,  Department  of  the,  94. 

Eviction  and  pauperism,  80. 

Exchange,  system  of,  in  1760,  31. 

Exports,  growth  in  eighteenth  century, 
83-4  ;  of  grain,  22  ;  bounty  on,  68. 

Factobt  legislation,  66 ;   opposed  by 

Ricardo,    113,     128-9;     passed    by 

landowners,  231-2. 
Factory  system,  introduction  of,  69-70. 
Fairs,  31-2. 
Farmers,  change  in  relation  to  labourers, 

50,  724,  111, 
Finlaison,  eriimate  of  population,  7-8. 
Fluctuations  of  trade,  60,  73,  82. 
Fly  shuttle,  27-8. 
Foreign    trade,     influence    on    home 

industry,  33. 
Freedom  of  labour,  doctrine  of,  taught 

by  Smith,   153;    and  Turgot,   153; 

weapon  against  labourers,  164. 
Freedom,  political  and  material,  79. 
Free  trade,  5 ;  may  result  in  monopoly, 

63 ;   in  com,    results,   107 ;   causes 

greater  steadiness  in  indnstry,  127-8. 
Future  of  the  working  classes,  13Q-1. 

Gbokok,  Mr.  Hknrt,  Progress  and 
Povrrty,  on  Malthus,  89-90;  on  in- 
terest, 106  ;  a  pupil  of  Ricardo,  113- 
14 ;  theory  of  economic  progress 
examined,  142-3. 

Gladstone,  Mr,,  Budget  speech  1864, 
229. 

Glasgow,  161. 

Godwin,  86-7. 

Gold  and  silver,  importance  in  mercan- 
tile theory,  65  6. 

Grand  Junction  Cnnal,  71. 

Grey-coats  of  Kent,  37,  43. 

Groundrents,  118-19 ;  taxes  on,  the 
least  objectionable,  126. 

Guardians  of  poor,  92. 


INDEX 


sr9 


OnUdi,    76,    78 ;   eomparad  with  co- 
op«ntiTe  societies,  2^1. 

Habswabb  tnde,  28. 
HarereaTe*'  spinning-jenny,  70. 
Harmonj  of  interests,  in  distribntion 

a  tigment,  63. 
Harrison,  Mr.  Frederic,  133. 
Hat  manafactnr«  in  America  checked, 

60. 
Historical     method,     showi     relatire 

character  of  economic  laws,  6-6,  168 ; 

and    iaSaence    of    institntiona,    4 ; 

seeks  to  discoTer  laws  of  derelop- 

ment,  4 ;  not  always  conserratiTe,  34- 

5 ;  its  danger,  111. 
History,     its     relation     to     political 

economy,  2,  &-7. 
Holland,  trade  with,  83. 
Hops,  introduction  of,  19. 
Hosiery  trade,  26-7. 
Housing  of  Ubourers,  135.  234-6. 
Howlett,  estimate  of  papulation,  8. 
Human  nature  pliable,  189-90. 
Hume,  Joseph,  140;  on  combinations, 

17-18  ;  on  Factory  Acts,  165-6. 

iMPOBTATlon  of  labour,  184. 
Individualism,  in    political    economy, 

161 ;     characterises    Adam    Smith, 

62 ;  place  in  historical  growth,  269. 
Industrial  partnership,  1^. 
Ingram,  Mr.,  111. 
Interest,  Ricardo  on,  124-5. 
Interference  by  the  State,   principles 

of,  233-4,  236-7. 
InTention  and  population,  95. 
Ireland,  commercial   policy   towards, 

59-60. 
Iron,  American,  import  pr'^hibited,  69. 
Iron  industry  in  1760,  25,  195  ;  change 

due  to  smeltirg  by  pit-coal,  70. 

JKT05S,  W.  Staxtlkt,  6,  93. 
Joint-stock    comp&nieai,  can   buy  the 

best  brains,  53-4. 
Journeymen,  condition  of,  in  eighteenth 

century,  198-9. 
Jur&ndes,  153. 
Justices  of  Peace,  regulate  wages,  53, 

66 ;  giTe  poor  relief,  80,  92. 

Kat'b  fly-shuttle,  27. 
King,  Gregory,  12,  36. 

Laboitb,  efficiency  of,  163-4  ;  difference 
from  ether  commodities,  182-3. 


Labour  question,  rerlred  the  method 
of  obeerration,  147. 

I^boarer,  agricultural  condition  in 
eighteenth  century,  45-SO ;  alienated 

from  farmer,  72;  in  manufac- 

tures,  condition  in  the  eighteenth 
century,  49 ;  alienated  from  employer, 
72  ;  wages  and  cost  of  liring  1389  and 
1875, 122-3. 

Laissez-faire,  158-9;  untrue  as.7ump- 
tions,  62 ;  breaks  down  as  to  wages, 
63. 

Lancashire,  jpowth  of  eapitaJist  em- 
ployer in,  30-1. 

Land  Act  (Ireland)  of  1870,  121 ;  of 
1881,  282. 

Land,  movement  from  collective  to 
individual  ownership,  111. 

Landed  prof-erty,  its  distribution  in- 
fluenceid  by  form  of  government,  36, 
44. 

Landowners,  results  of  their  political 

r)wer  in  the  eighteenth  century,  41- 
;    in  nineteenth  century,  232 ;    in- 
terested in  Protection,  58. 
l.is^^alle  adopts  Ricardo's  law  of  wage.^, 

99,  113 ;  his  Commtinism,  135. 
Laurence,   Dutj  of  a  Stevard  (1727'i, 
21,41,68. 
I  Law,  distinction  between  physicjJ  and 
I      social,  160,  168,  170. 
Lsues,  Tonng  on,  19  and  note  1. 
Leeds  Cloth  Hall,  31. 
Leslie,  CUffe,  8,  88,  101  and  noU  2, 

111. 
Linen  maaufacture,  27. 
live  stock,  mauagtment  and  breeding 
in  1760,  19-20  ;  import  from  Ireland 
prohibited,  59. 

Machisbbt,  influence  on  population, 
91-2  ;  good  tnd  evil  effects,  176. 

M'CuUoch,  on  Ricardo,  145. 

Maine,  Sir  Henry,  30,  31,  111,  143. 

Malthus,  Euay  <m  Pojmlation,  1798, 
prompted  by  Godwin's  Inquirer, 
86 ;  its  doctrine,  87  ;  how  modified 
in  second  edition,  87;  on  'positive' 
and  'preventive  checks,  ibid.; 
its  premises,  87-88 ;  and  object, 
1  88  ;  criticism  Isy  Herbert  Spencer,  88 ; 
j  and  Henry  George,  89 ;  ambiguity  of 
phrase,  ^-90 ;  explains  growth  of 
population,  90-91 ;  proposes  abolition 
of  Poor  Law,  92  ;  and  contributes  to 
its  reform,  74,  85 ;  despsies  emigra- 
tion, 93 ;  is  the  author  of  the  wage- 
fund  theory,  ICO,  160;  on  the  bene- 


280 


INDEX 


ficial  working  of  self-interest,  149 ; 
appearance  of  idea  of  invariable  law, 
169 ;  his  relation  to  Adam  Smith,  1, 
65 ;  on  rent,  114-15 ;  on  effects  on 
rent  of  improvements,  lltt ;  his  criti- 
cism of  Bicardo,  144. 

Mauchenter,  condition  befoie  repeal  of 
Ccm  Laws,  221. 

Manor,  76. 

Markul,  for  commodities  and  labour, 
182-6. 

'Marrying  into  the  city  for  monev,' 
40-1. 

Marshall,  Rural  Economy  of  Turkshire, 
quoted,  89  note  3. 

Man,  Karl,  Das  Kapital  (1867),  88, 
109  ;  theory  of  value,  113. 

Mazzini,  Duties  of  Man,  216,  237. 

Mercantile  system,  54-CO ;  refutation 
by  Adam  Smith,  61-2. 

Merchants,  position  in  eighteenth  cen- 
tury, 40. 

Mill,  James,  influence  on  Bicardo,  110, 
140. 

Mill,  John  Stuart,  Logic  (1843),  on  the 
deductive  science  of  society,  5  note 
3.  Principles  of  Political  Economy 
(1848),  its  spirit,  66 ;  distinction 
between  laws  of  prod-action  and  dis- 
tribution, 65,  ito  ;  on  population, 
130  ;  standard  of  comfort,  99 ;  co- 
operation, 100  ;  Dissertations  and 
Discussions  (1875),  statement  of 
wage-fund  theory,  96,  171 ;  proposes 
confiscation  of  unearned  increment, 
112. 

Mobility  of  labour  and  capital  unequal, 
184.  " 

Monasteries,  results  of  their  dissolu- 
tion, 78. 

Money,  view  of  mercsntilists,  55. 

Monied  interest,  influence  of,  40. 

Monopoly  and  free  trade,  63,  103. 

Morality,  must  be  united  v,ith 
economics,  163. 

Mun,  England's  Treasure  by  Foreign 
Trade  {HiQi),  61. 

Mulball,  Mr.,  124. 

Mundella,  Mr.,  187,  1^8,  198-9. 

Municipalities,  possible  future  work, 
135,  235, 

Najl  manufacture,  30. 
Napoleon,  on  economists,  162. 
Napoleonic  war,   economic  results  in 

England,  84-5. 
Nasniyth,  184. 
Nasse,  13. 


Nationalisation  of  land,  119. 
Nationalism,  connection  with  merean- 

tile  system,  65. 
Navigation  Acts,  56-7. 
Newspapers,  against  the  workmen,  187 
Norfolk,  agriciudture  in,  18-19. 
Norway,  91. 
Norwich,  23. 
Nottingham,  214. 

OaSTLBB,  BlOHARD,  224. 

Out-door  relief,  22 ;  should  be  abolished, 

236. 
Over-production,  71,  197. 
Overeeeri  of  the  poor,  appointed,  78, 

79. 
Owen,  Bobert,  226-7,  231,  242,  243-4. 

Parliamentaet  Beports,  quoted ; 
Committee  on 'voollenpetitions(1808), 
141;  on  labourers'  wages  (1824),  72, 
91,  108 ;  on  Trades  Unions  (1867), 
102  note. 

Partnership,  industrial,  184. 

Pasture,  increase  in  sixteenth  cen- 
tury, 77;  broken  up  during  the 
French  war,  69. 

Pauperism,  during  seventeenth  and 
eighteenth  centuries,  80;  causes,  80- 
2 ;  increase  1760-1818,  74  ;  decrea!<e 
after  1834,  93 ;  the  price  of  freedom, 
75-6. 

Peabody  Buildings,  236. 

Peel,  the  elder,  quoted,  67  note  1,  202. 

Pennsylvania,  coal-mines,  63 ;  labour 
war  of  1877, 187-8. 

Physiocrats,  160. 

Pitt,  William,  61. 

Place,  Francis,  131. 

Political  conditions,  their  economic  in- 
fluence, 36,  44,  201,  228. 

Political  economy,  see  Economics. 

Poor, '  impotent  and  able-bodied, '  76, 79. 

Poor  Laws,  their  history.  75-80,  201 ; 
maladministration,  83-4  ;  Malthus  on, 
92  ;  reform  in  1834,  92-3. 

Population,  number  in  1750  and  1801, 
8 ;  rate  of  increase,  67-8  ;  distribu- 
tion, 9-10;  increase  in  towns,  11; 
proportion  of  rural  to  urban,  12 ; 
according  to  occupations,  12-13 ; 
decline  of  agricultural  population, 
67-8 ;  Malthus'  law,  86-7  :  place  in 
the  wage-fund  theory,  96 ;  not  a 
purely  economic  question,  95. 

Porter,  Progress  of  the  Nation,  quoted, 
106. 

Portugal,  trade  witli,  SS. 


INDEX 


S81 


Positlrlst  solntloa  of  lOoUI  queation, 

183. 
PoUto  funiiu  1847,  affect  on  prices,  62. 
PracepU  and  laws,  8-4,  160-1. 
Price,  Dr.,  estimate  of  population,  7. 
Price,  how  determined,  41-4;  diriaion 

of.  180. 
Production,  163. 
Profit,  181. 
Property,  idea  of,  needs  modifleation, 

163-4  ;  in  land,  111-12. 
Protection,  5&-6 ;  arguments    for  and 

against,    f6-8 ;    cannot    succeed    in 

a  republic,  69;  effects  in  America, 

102-8. 

Radicals,  their  old  principles,  220-1, 
227  ;  their  present  attitude,  233,  237. 

Railways,  71. 

Rent,  historical  origin,  117;  rise  be- 
tween 1790  and  1833,  72;  causes  of 
the  rise,  117 ;  theory  of  rent,  its 
history,  114-15 ;  Ricardo'a  assump- 
tions, 114  ;  ultimate  causes  of  rent, 
116 ;  its  relation  to  price,  117,  141  ; 
to  wages,  121,  141  ;  often  comes  from 
the  labourer's  pocket,  109,  121 ;  can 
it  be  abolished  f  119. 

Reports,  see  Parliamentary. 

Reserre  price,  as  to  labour,  183. 

Beyolution  of  1688,  its  economic  effects, 
38. 

Ricardo,  PrineipUt  of  Politictd  Economy 
and  Taxation  (1817),  immediate  in- 
flnence,  137-8 ;  logical  power,  189 ; 
economic  assumptions,  141-2 ;  cir- 
cumstances of  the  time,  141-2;  de- 
ductive msthod.  111,  143 ;  philoso- 
phical assumptions,  148 ;  idea  of 
natural  law,  113,  159-60 ;  relation  to 
Adam  Smith,  61,  109,  141,  148;  'the 
prop  and  menace  of  the  middle  classes, ' 
10*),  118 ;  bis  doctrines  adopted 
by  the  Socialists,  113 ;  on  price, 
141 ;  on  interest  and  profit,  124-5  ;  on 
rent,  116  ;  controrersy  as  to  rent  with 
MalthuB,  116, 118  ;  law  of  industrial 
derelopment.  111,  120 ;  based  on  as- 
Mimptions,  114 ;  his  life,  110 ;  in- 
fluence on  legislation,  110,  112-13, 
140 ;  brought  about  resumption  of 
cash  payments,  110. 

Rings,  63,  103,  179. 

Birers,  made  narigable,  28. 

Roads,  71. 

Rockingham,  Marquis  of.  his  agricql- 
toral  imprcrrements,  l7  and  nt4«  4 

Boebwk,  Mr.,  171-3 


Roesler,  114. 

Rogers,  Prof.   Thorold,  oa  Bicardiaa 

doctrine  of  rent,  115-17. 
Rotation  of  crops,  69. 

Sadlbb,  MjCEAXLTHOMas,  224 ;  on  is- 
equality  of  employer  and  employed, 
166-7. 

Sarings  banks,  230. 

Sarings  of  working  claaaec,  124. 

Senior,  Nassau,  6,  146. 

Settlement,  law  of,  76,  79,  93. 

Shipping,  24,  36-7. 

Sismondi,  Quoted,  33  and  note  1. 

Smith,  Adam,  Wealth  qf  Nations 
(1776);  a  handbook  for  statesmen, 
61 ;  merits  and  defects,  60-1 ;  two 
main  eonceptions,  148 ;  cosmopoli- 
tanism, 61  ;  individusJism,  62 ;  the 
gospel  of  industrial  freedom,  149-51, 
203 ;  '  French  principles,'  150 ;  com- 
bines a  priori  and  inductive  reason- 
ing, 64 ;  teaches  that  wages  tend  to 
eauality,  48 ;  attacks  restrictions  on 
laoour,  153 ;  but  condemns  combina- 
tion, 164 ;  on  apprenticeship,  52 ;  on 
regulation  of  wages  by  Justices,  63  ; 
on  chartered  eomjpanies,  53-4 ;  on 
Narigation  Acta,  66  ;  on  the  mercsa- 
tila  system,  58-60;  'the  sneaking 
arts  of  onderling  tradesmen,'  58 ;  'a 
nation  of  shopkeepers,'  60 ;  aee  aito 
46,  51,  88, 114,  168,  197,  270-1. 

Socialism,  due  to  competition,  64 ;  in- 
fluence on  J.  &  Mill,  65,  66,  99,  189, 
229-30;  examples  in  England,  136, 
231 ;  taught  by  Owen,  226-7 ;  Tory,84, 
224-5. 

Speenhamland  Act  of  Parliament,  S6 
and  note  3. 

Spencer,  Mr.  Herbert,  88. 

Standard  of  comfort,  99,  122. 

SUte,  function  of,  6,  61,  249-50. 

State  interference,  principles  of,  2SS-4, 
236-7. 

'Status  to  contract,'  criticised,  5,  112. 

Statutes,  of  Labourers,  76 ;  Appren- 
tices, 51 ;  1188,  76  ;  1601,  79  ;  1662, 
79 ;  17»5,  79  ;  Gilbert's  Act  1782,  84  ; 
Emplovers'  Liability  Act,  135 ;  Irish 
Land  Act  1870,  121 ;  Irish  Land  Act 
1881,  232;  statute  of  George  i. 
against  combinations  and  truck,  202. 

Steam-engine,  in  cotton-mills,  70;  in 
iron  industry,  70. 

Stephana,  Joeeph  Raynor,  224. 

Stocking-makers  of  Leicester,  208. 

Stourbndge,  fair  of,  31. 


282 


INDEX 


'Struggle  for  eziitenee,'  65. 

StubbB,  Prof,,  Oomtitutional  History, 

quoted,  75. 
Supply   and    demand,    'that    hateful 

phrase,'  180-2. 

Tabifp,  wars  of,  &i. 

Taxation,  readju»tment  of,  135. 

Taylor,  Mr.  Sedley,  134. 

Ten  Hours'  Bill,  225. 

Thompson,  Colonel,  221. 

Thornton,  on  reserved  prices,  147. 

Tivus,  The,  its  economics,  170,  187, 
220. 

Tory  Socialism,  84,  224-5. 

Towns,  increase  of  population,  11. 

Trades  unions,  good  results,  128-9,  133, 
183-4;  organise  competition,  185-6, 
189 ;  arguments  against,  97-8 ;  where 
successful  in  raising  wages,  104-5 ; 
destroy  personal  tie  between  em- 
ployer and  employed,  212-13 ;  rela- 
tion to  boards  of  conciliation,  217 ; 
compared  with  co-operative  societies, 
241 ;  see  also  66,  73,  182,  181,  185-6, 
212 

Truck,  107,  187-8,  202, 

Tucker,  Dean,  150. 

Toll,  Jethro,  and  drill  husbandry,  21. 

Turgot,  151 ;  dissolution  of  Jurandes, 
153. 

Turnips,  first  mention  as  a  field  crop, 
18. 

Uhions,  see  Trades  Unions, 
Unions  of  Parishes,  92. 

VAaBANOT,  77  ;  legislation  against,  78. 

Waoks,  history  of;  of  agricultural 
labourers  in  eighteenth  century, 
46-7 ;  comparison  of  north  and 
south,  47  ;  inequality  in  same 
county,  48  ;  of  artisans  in  eighteenth 
century  and  nineteenth  century,  49- 
50  ;  regulated  by  Justices,  53 ; 
causes  of  fall  1790-1820,  106-9 ;  ris* 
since  1846,  122. 

Wages,  theory  of;  supposed  tendency 
to  equality,  8,  48 ;  Ricardo's  law, 
121 ;  wage-fund  tlieory,  as  stated 
by  Mill,  96-9  ;  are  labourers'  share 
of  produce,  101 ;  causes  affecting 
wages,  174 ;  how  determined,  175- 
88 ;  limits   in   »   particular   trade, 


104 ;  possibility  and  probable  results 
of  a  general  rise,  106-0,  178-80; 
explanation  of  high  wages  in 
America,  102,  188 ;  and  of  differ- 
ence between  England  and  Con- 
tinent, 103;  'fair  wages,'  182;  com- 
petition not  the  sole  cause  of  rate, 
188-9. 

Wage-fund  theory,  originated  with 
Malthus,  96,  160;  statement  by 
Mill,  96 ;  conclusions  drawn  from 
it,  97  ;  its  untrue  premises,  97-9 ; 
causes  of  its  origin,  100;  substitute 
for  it,  101,  104,  173-4 ;  cause  of  un- 
popularity of  political  economy,  172. 

Walker,  Francis,  distinguishes  em- 
ployer from  capitalist,  147. 

Walker,  Amasa,  on  population  in 
Massachusetts,  88. 

Wars  of  tariff,  66. 

Waste,  enclosure  of,  16. 

Watt,  James,  151,  152,  208;  steam- 
engine,  70, 

West  Riding,  24. 

West,  Sir  Edward,  114. 

Wheat,  average  produce  1760,  22: 
price,  1782-1801,  82. 

Wheaten  bread,  46. 

Woollen  manufacture,  22-6,  195 ;  dis- 
tricts where  carried  on,  23 ;  pro- 
cesses, 27;  struggle  with  cotton 
trade,  69 ;  importation  from  Ireland 
and  America  prohibited,  59,  60. 

Wordsworth,  196. 

Workhouse-test,  79,  84,  92. 

Worsted,  24  ;  method  of  mannfactar*. 
195. 

Wyat't,  John,  28. 

Ybomanbv,  decay  of,  82-44;  want  of 

political  initiative,  38. 
Young,  Arthur,  estimate  of  population, 
8,  12-13 ;  on  bad  cultivation  of 
common  fields,  1 5  and  note  1 ;  on 
agriculture  in  Kent,  17 ;  and  in 
Norfolk,  18-19  ;  on  agriculture  1700- 
1760,  18,  21;  advantage  of  long 
leases,  19  and  note  1 ;  turnips  ana 
clover,  19 ;  encouragement  to 
farmers,  by  high  rents,  20-1  ;  con- 
dition of  roads,  28-9 ;  beginnings  of 
factory  system,  80 ;  disappearance 
of  yeomanry,  S9  ;  small  farmers,  43  ; 
consumption  of  tea,  meat,  and 
cheese,  46  ;  snclosures,  81-2. 


Printed  In  Great  Britain  by  T.  and  A.  Constable  Ltd, 
at  tlie  University  Proas,  Edinburgh 


330.942  T756LC.1 

Toynbee  #  Lectures  on  the 
inndustrial  revolution  in 


llllllll  llMMiilii  ilmiinli  I 

3  0005  02067560  2 


11 


330.942 
T756L 
Toynbee 

Lectures  on  the  industrial 

revolution  in  England 


^^^^^E 


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330.942 

T756L 
Toynbee 

Lectures  on  the  industrial 
revolution  in  England 


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