Book I, Chapter VIII, 3

Over the last century, taking one year with another, grain was more expensive in both parts of the united kingdom than it has been during the present century. This is a fact that can no longer reasonably be doubted; and the evidence is, if anything, more conclusive for Scotland than for England. In Scotland it rests on the public fiars: annual valuations, made under oath according to actual market conditions, of every kind of grain in every county. If such direct proof needed supporting evidence, I would point out that the same has been true in France, and probably in most other parts of Europe. For France, the proof is especially clear. Yet while grain was certainly somewhat more expensive in both parts of the united kingdom last century than it is now, labor was just as certainly much cheaper. If working poor families could be raised then, they must be much more comfortable now. In the last century, the usual daily wages for common labor across most of Scotland were sixpence in summer and fivepence in winter. Three shillings a week, almost the same rate, is still paid in some parts of the Highlands and Western islands. Across most of the Low country, ordinary wages for common labor are now eight pence a day; around Edinburgh, in the counties bordering England, probably because of their proximity, and in a few other places where the demand for labor has lately risen considerably—around Glasgow, Carron, Ayrshire, etc.—they are tenpence, sometimes a shilling. Improvements in agriculture, manufactures, and commerce began much earlier in England than in Scotland. As those improvements advanced, the demand for labor, and hence its price, must necessarily have risen. Accordingly, wages were higher in England than in Scotland in the last century, as they are today. They have also risen considerably since then, although the greater variety of local wage rates in England makes it harder to determine by how much. In 1614, a foot soldier received the same pay as today: eightpence a day. When that pay was first fixed, it would naturally have been set by the ordinary wages of common laborers, the class from which foot soldiers generally came. Lord Chief Justice Hales, writing in the time of Charles II, calculates that a laborer's family of six—the father and mother, two children able to do some work, and two unable—needs ten shillings a week, or twenty-six pounds a year, for its expenses. If they cannot earn this by their labor, he supposes they must make up the difference by begging or stealing. He appears to have investigated the matter very carefully [See his scheme for the maintenance of the poor, in Burn’s History of the Poor Laws.]. In 1688, Mr Gregory King, whose skill in political arithmetic is so highly praised by Dr Davenant, calculated the ordinary income of laborers and out-servants at fifteen pounds a year per family, assuming an average family size of three and a half persons. His calculation, though apparently different, therefore agrees quite closely in substance with Judge Hales's. Both put such families' weekly expenses at about twenty-pence per person. Both the money income and the expenses of these families have risen considerably since then in most of the kingdom, more in some places and less in others, though perhaps nowhere as much as certain exaggerated recent accounts of wages would have the public believe. The price of labor, it must be noted, cannot be determined with great precision anywhere: different prices are often paid in the same place for the same kind of work, according not only to the workers' different abilities but also to how easy or exacting their masters are. Where the law does not regulate wages, we can claim to establish only the most usual rate; and experience suggests that the law can never regulate them properly, though it has often claimed to do so.

The real reward of labor—the actual quantity of life's necessities and comforts it can obtain for a laborer—has perhaps increased even more during this century than its money price. Not only has grain become somewhat cheaper, but many other things that give the industrious poor a pleasant and wholesome variety of food have become much cheaper. Potatoes, for instance, now cost less than half what they did thirty or forty years ago throughout most of the kingdom. The same is true of turnips, carrots, and cabbages, formerly grown only with the spade but now commonly grown with the plow. Garden produce of every kind has also become cheaper. In the last century, most of the apples, and even the onions, consumed in Great Britain were imported from Flanders. Great improvements in the manufacture of coarser linen and woolen cloth supply laborers with better and cheaper clothing; improvements in the manufacture of coarser metals provide them with better and cheaper tools of their trades, as well as many pleasant and useful pieces of household furniture. Soap, salt, candles, leather, and fermented drinks have indeed become considerably more expensive, chiefly because of taxes imposed on them. But the amount of these goods that the working poor must consume is so small that the rise in their prices does not offset the fall in the prices of so many others. The familiar complaint that luxury has spread even to the lowest ranks, and that working poor people will no longer accept the food, clothing, and lodging that satisfied them in former times, may convince us that not merely labor's money price but its real reward has increased.

Should this improvement in the condition of the lower ranks be considered an advantage or a disadvantage to society? At first the answer seems perfectly plain. Servants, laborers, and workers of every kind make up by far the greater part of any large political society. What improves the condition of the greater part can never be counted a disadvantage to the whole. Surely no society can flourish and be happy when the great majority of its members are poor and miserable. Justice also requires that those who feed, clothe, and house the whole population should receive enough of the produce of their own labor to be tolerably well fed, clothed, and housed themselves.

Poverty, though it undoubtedly discourages marriage, does not always prevent it. It even seems favorable to childbearing. A half-starved Highland woman often bears more than twenty children, while a pampered lady of fashion is often unable to bear any, and is generally exhausted by two or three. Infertility, so common among fashionable women, is very rare among women of lower station. Luxury in women may inflame the desire for pleasure, yet it seems invariably to weaken, and often altogether to destroy, the power of reproduction.

But while poverty does not prevent children from being born, it is extremely hostile to their upbringing. The tender plant comes forth, only to wither and die quickly in such cold soil and severe weather. I have often been told that in the Scottish Highlands it is not uncommon for a mother who has borne twenty children to have fewer than two still living. Several experienced officers have assured me that the children born to their soldiers have never been numerous enough even to supply their regiments with drummers and fifers, let alone recruits. Yet one seldom sees more fine-looking children anywhere than around soldiers' barracks. Very few, it seems, reach the age of thirteen or fourteen. In some places half the children die before age four, in many before age seven, and in almost all before age nine or ten. This heavy mortality, however, will everywhere be found mainly among the children of common people, who cannot afford the care that people of higher station can provide. Though their marriages generally produce more children than those of the fashionable classes, a smaller proportion reach adulthood. Mortality in foundling hospitals and among children raised by parish charities is higher still than among the children of common people.

Every animal species naturally multiplies according to its means of subsistence, and no species can multiply beyond those means. In civilized society, however, a shortage of subsistence can limit further growth of the human population only among the lower ranks, and only by killing a large proportion of the children born of their fruitful marriages.

A generous reward for labor enables these people to provide better for their children and thus to raise more of them; it naturally tends to push these limits outward. We should also observe that it necessarily does so in as close a proportion as possible to the demand for labor. If that demand continually rises, labor's reward must encourage workers to marry and multiply enough to meet the growing demand with a growing population. Should the reward at any time fall short of what this requires, a shortage of workers would soon raise it; should it exceed that amount, their excessive multiplication would soon bring it down to the necessary rate. Labor would be so scarce in the market in the first case, and so abundant in the second, that its price would soon be forced back to the level required by the condition of society. Thus the demand for human beings, like the demand for any other commodity, necessarily regulates their production: it accelerates that production when it proceeds too slowly and checks it when it proceeds too quickly. This demand governs and determines the state of population growth throughout the world: in North America, in Europe, and in China, making it rapid in the first, slow and gradual in the second, and altogether stationary in the last.

The wear and tear of a slave, it has been said, is paid for by his master, but that of a free servant is paid for by the servant himself. In reality, however, the master bears the cost of the free servant's wear and tear just as much as the slave's. The wages paid to journeymen and servants of every kind must, on average, enable them to perpetuate their numbers as the society's growing, shrinking, or stationary demand requires. Yet although the master pays equally for the wear and tear of a free servant, it generally costs him much less than a slave's. The fund set aside to replace or repair, so to speak, a slave's wear and tear is commonly managed by a negligent master or a careless overseer. The equivalent fund for a free person is managed by that person himself. The wasteful habits that generally govern the affairs of the rich naturally enter the management of the former; the strict thrift and careful economy of the poor just as naturally govern the latter. Under such different management, the same end must entail very different costs. Indeed, the experience of all ages and nations seems to show, I believe, that work done by free people is ultimately cheaper than work done by slaves. This holds even in Boston, New-York, and Philadelphia, where wages for common labor are very high.

A generous reward for labor, therefore, is both an effect of growing wealth and a cause of growing population. To complain of it is to lament a necessary cause and effect of the greatest public prosperity.

Perhaps we should also observe that the working poor, the great body of the people, seem happiest and most comfortable while society is advancing toward greater wealth, rather than after it has acquired its full measure of riches. Their condition is hard in a stationary society and miserable in a declining one. A society on the rise is, in truth, cheerful and vigorous for all its ranks; a stationary society is dull, and a declining one melancholy.

Over the last century, grain was more expensive on average in both parts of the united kingdom than it has been during this century. There is no reasonable doubt about this fact. The evidence is even stronger for Scotland than for England. In Scotland, the public fiars provide evidence. These were annual valuations of each kind of grain in every county, sworn to reflect actual market conditions. If such direct evidence needed support, I would note that grain prices followed the same pattern in France, and probably in most of Europe. The evidence for France is very clear. Yet while grain was somewhat more expensive in both parts of the united kingdom last century, labor was certainly much cheaper. If working people could raise families then, they must be much better off now. Last century, ordinary daily wages for common labor across most of Scotland were sixpence in summer and fivepence in winter. About the same pay, three shillings a week, is still paid in some parts of the Highlands and Western islands. Across most of the Low country, the usual wage for common labor is now eight pence a day. It is tenpence, sometimes a shilling, around Edinburgh; in counties bordering England, probably because they are close to England; and in a few other places where demand for labor has recently risen considerably, around Glasgow, Carron, Ayrshire, etc. Agriculture, manufacturing, and commerce began improving much earlier in England than in Scotland. As they improved, demand for labor and its price must have risen. So wages were higher in England than Scotland both last century and this century. They have also risen considerably since last century. But wages vary more from place to place in England, making it harder to tell how much they have risen. In 1614, a foot soldier received eightpence a day, the same as now. When this pay was first set, it would naturally have followed the usual wages of common laborers, the group from which foot soldiers commonly came. Lord-chief-justice Hales, writing under Charles II, estimated that a laborer's family of six needed ten shillings a week, or twenty-six pounds a year. He counted a father, a mother, two children old enough to do some work, and two too young to do any. If their work could not earn that sum, he supposed they would have to make up the difference by begging or stealing. He appears to have researched the matter very carefully [See his scheme for the maintenance of the poor, in Burn’s History of the Poor Laws.]. In 1688, Mr Gregory King, whose skill in political arithmetic Dr Davenant praised so highly, estimated the ordinary income of laborers and out-servants at fifteen pounds a year per family. He assumed that a family averaged three and a half people. Despite looking different, his estimate is very close to Judge Hales's. Both put these families' weekly expenses at about twenty-pence per person. Across most of the kingdom, both their money income and their expenses have risen considerably since then. They have risen more in some places than in others, though perhaps nowhere as much as some recent exaggerated reports of current wages have suggested. We should note that the price of labor cannot be measured very precisely anywhere. Even in one place, the same kind of work often commands different rates. These depend both on workers' abilities and on whether employers are easy or hard to deal with. Where law does not set wages, we can only identify the most usual rate. Experience seems to show that law cannot set wages properly, though it has often claimed to do so.

The real reward for labor—the amount of life's necessities and comforts it can buy—may have risen by even more this century than wages measured in money. Grain has become somewhat cheaper. Many other foods that give industrious poor people a pleasant, healthy variety have become much cheaper. In most of the kingdom, for example, potatoes now cost less than half what they cost thirty or forty years ago. The same is true of turnips, carrots, and cabbages. Farmers once grew these only with spades, but now commonly grow them with plows. All kinds of garden produce have become cheaper too. In the last century, most of the apples, and even the onions, eaten in Great Britain were imported from Flanders. Major improvements in making coarse linen and woolen cloth give workers better, cheaper clothes. Improvements in working common metals give them better, cheaper tools and many useful and pleasant household items. Soap, salt, candles, leather, and fermented drinks have indeed become considerably more expensive, mainly because of taxes on them. But working people need so little of these goods that their higher prices do not offset the lower prices of so many other things. People often complain that luxury has reached even the lowest ranks. They say working people now refuse to settle for the food, clothing, and housing that once satisfied them. That complaint may convince us that not only money wages but the real reward for work has risen.

Should we see the better circumstances of people in the lower ranks as a benefit to society or a disadvantage? At first the answer seems perfectly clear. Servants, laborers, and other workers make up by far the largest part of any large society. What improves life for most people cannot be a disadvantage to society as a whole. Surely no society can prosper and be happy if the great majority of its members are poor and miserable. It is also only fair that those who feed, clothe, and house everyone should receive enough of what their own work produces to be reasonably well fed, clothed, and housed themselves.

Poverty certainly discourages marriage, but it does not always prevent it. It even seems to encourage childbearing. A half-starved Highland woman often bears more than twenty children, while a pampered fashionable lady often cannot bear any, and is usually exhausted after two or three. Infertility is common among fashionable women but very rare among women of lower status. Luxury among women may increase the desire for pleasure, but it seems always to weaken their ability to have children, and often to destroy it entirely.

But although poverty does not prevent children from being born, it makes raising them extremely difficult. A tender plant grows, but quickly withers and dies in such poor soil and harsh weather. I have often been told that in the Scottish Highlands a mother may bear twenty children and not have two survive. Several experienced officers have assured me that the children born to soldiers in their regiment could not even supply enough boys to serve as its drummers and fifers, let alone provide recruits. Yet one seldom sees more fine children than around a soldiers' barracks. Apparently very few reach thirteen or fourteen. In some places half of all children die before age four; in many places, before seven; and in almost all places, before nine or ten. Most of these deaths occur among ordinary people's children. Their families cannot afford to care for them as well as better-off families can. Though ordinary people's marriages generally produce more children than fashionable people's, a smaller share reach adulthood. Death rates are even higher in foundling hospitals and among children raised with parish charity than among ordinary people's children.

Every animal species naturally multiplies according to the food available to it. No species can grow beyond that supply. But in civilized society, only among people of the lower ranks can a lack of subsistence limit human population growth. It can do this only by killing many of the children born to their large families.

Generous wages allow workers to care better for their children and raise more of them. This naturally pushes those limits outward. It is also worth noting that it does so almost exactly in proportion to the demand for labor. If demand keeps growing, wages must encourage workers to marry and have enough children to supply a growing population for that growing demand. If wages ever fell below what was needed, a shortage of workers would soon raise them. If wages rose above it, the resulting excess population would soon bring them back down to the necessary level. Too few workers in the market in one case, or too many in the other, would soon force wages back to the level society's circumstances required. In this way, demand for people, like demand for any other commodity, regulates how many are produced. It speeds up population growth when it is too slow and stops it when it is too fast. That demand determines population growth in every country: rapid growth in North America, slow and gradual growth in Europe, and no growth at all in China.

People have said that an owner pays the cost of a slave's wear and tear, while a free servant pays for his own. In reality, an employer pays for the free servant's wear and tear just as much as an owner pays for a slave's. Wages paid to hired skilled workers and servants of every kind must, on average, let them maintain a new generation of such workers and servants. The number must meet society's demand, whether that demand is growing, shrinking, or steady. But although an employer pays for both, maintaining a free servant generally costs much less than maintaining a slave. The resources set aside to replace or repair a slave's wear and tear, so to speak, are usually managed by a negligent owner or careless overseer. The free worker manages the resources for his own upkeep. The wasteful habits common in rich households naturally affect the first kind of management. The strict thrift and careful saving of poor people naturally govern the second. Under such different management, the same result requires very different spending. Experience across ages and nations seems to show that work done by free people ultimately costs less than work done by slaves. This holds even in Boston, New-York, and Philadelphia, where wages for common labor are very high.

Generous wages are therefore an effect of growing wealth and a cause of growing population. To complain about them is to regret both a necessary cause and a necessary effect of the greatest public prosperity.

Perhaps it is worth noting that working people—the great majority—seem happiest and most comfortable while society is growing richer, not after it has reached its full wealth. Their condition is difficult when growth stops and miserable when wealth declines. Growth is the cheerful, vigorous condition for every rank of society; a standstill is dull, and decline is gloomy.