Book I, Chapter X, 6

It has been thought so important that enough young people should be educated for certain professions that the public, or the piety of private founders, has sometimes established numerous pensions, scholarships, exhibitions, bursaries, etc. for this purpose. These draw many more people into those professions than could otherwise hope to enter them. In every Christian country, I believe, the education of most churchmen is paid for in this way. Very few are educated wholly at their own expense. The long, tedious, costly education of those who are, therefore, does not always earn them a fitting reward: the church is crowded with people willing, in order to obtain employment, to accept much less than such an education would otherwise entitle them to. Thus the competition of the poor takes away the reward of the rich. It would no doubt be improper to compare a curate or chaplain with a journeyman in an ordinary trade. Yet the pay of a curate or chaplain can properly be regarded as wages of the same kind as a journeyman’s. All three are paid for their work according to the contracts they happen to make with their respective superiors. Until after the middle of the fourteenth century, the usual pay in England for a curate or salaried parish priest was five merks, containing about as much silver as ten pounds of our present money, as the decrees of several national councils show. At the same time, fourpence a day, containing the same amount of silver as a shilling of our present money, was declared the pay of a master mason; and threepence a day, equal to ninepence of our present money, that of a journeyman mason. [See the Statute of Laborers, 25, Ed. III.] The wages of both these laborers, then, assuming steady employment, were much higher than the curate’s. Even if the master mason had been unemployed for a third of the year, his wages would have fully equaled the curate’s. The 12th of Queen Anne, c. 12. declares, “That whereas, for want of sufficient maintenance and encouragement to curates, the cures have, in several places, been meanly supplied, the bishop is, therefore, empowered to appoint, by writing under his hand and seal, a sufficient certain stipend or allowance, not exceeding fifty, and not less than twenty pounds a-year”. Forty pounds a year is now considered very good pay for a curate; and, despite this act of parliament, many curacies pay under twenty pounds a year. Journeymen shoemakers in London earn forty pounds a year, and scarcely any industrious workman in that city fails to earn more than twenty. Indeed, even ordinary laborers in many rural parishes frequently earn that latter sum. Whenever the law has tried to regulate workmen’s wages, its object has been to lower rather than raise them. Yet on many occasions it has tried to raise curates’ wages, and, for the dignity of the church, to compel parish rectors to give them more than the wretched living they might themselves accept. In both cases it seems to have been equally ineffective: it has managed neither to raise curates’ wages nor to lower laborers’ wages as intended. It could not prevent curates, driven by poverty and the multitude of competitors, from accepting less than the legal allowance; nor could it prevent laborers from receiving more, given the opposite competition among those who expected profit or pleasure from employing them.

The great benefices and other ecclesiastical dignities sustain the honor of the church despite the poverty of some of its lower members. The respect accorded their profession also partly compensates even those members for their meager pay. In England and all Roman Catholic countries, the church’s lottery is in fact much more favorable than it needs to be. The example of the churches of Scotland, Geneva, and several other Protestant churches shows that, in so reputable a profession, where education is so readily obtained, the prospect of much more modest benefices will attract enough learned, decent, respectable men to holy orders.

If the same proportion of people were educated at public expense for professions without benefices, such as law and medicine, competition would soon grow so intense that their financial reward would fall greatly. It might then no longer be worthwhile for anyone to educate a son for either profession at his own expense. The professions would be left entirely to those educated through public charities, whose numbers and needs would generally force them to accept miserable pay, utterly degrading the professions of law and medicine, now so respected.

That unfortunate class commonly called men of letters is much in the position lawyers and physicians would probably occupy under this supposition. Throughout Europe, most were educated for the church but prevented for various reasons from taking holy orders. They have therefore generally been educated at public expense, and their numbers everywhere are so great that the price of their labor is commonly reduced to a paltry sum.

Before the invention of printing, the only employment by which a man of letters could earn anything from his talents was teaching, publicly or privately: communicating to others the curious and useful knowledge he had acquired. Surely this remains a more honorable, more useful, and generally even more profitable occupation than writing for a bookseller, an occupation brought about by printing. The time and study, talent, knowledge, and diligence needed to become an eminent teacher of the sciences are at least equal to those needed by the greatest practitioners of law and medicine. But the usual reward of an eminent teacher bears no comparison with that of a lawyer or physician. Teaching is crowded with needy people trained at public expense, while very few enter the other two professions without paying for their own education. Yet the usual pay of public and private teachers, small as it may seem, would undoubtedly be still smaller if the competition of still poorer men of letters, who write for bread, were not removed from the market. Before printing, scholar and beggar seem to have been almost synonymous terms. University authorities in those days often appear to have granted their scholars licenses to beg.

In ancient times, before charities of this kind had been established to educate poor people for the learned professions, eminent teachers seem to have received much more substantial rewards. Isocrates, in the discourse called Against the Sophists, reproaches the teachers of his day for inconsistency. “They make the most magnificent promises to their pupils,” he says, “and undertake to teach them to be wise, happy, and just; and in return for so important a service they stipulate the paltry reward of four or five minae.” “Those who teach wisdom,” he continues, “ought surely to be wise themselves; but anyone who sold such a bargain for such a price would be guilty of the most obvious folly.” He certainly does not intend to exaggerate the reward, and we may be sure it was no less than he says. Four minae equaled thirteen pounds six shillings and eightpence; five minae, sixteen pounds thirteen shillings and fourpence. At least the larger of these sums, then, must ordinarily have been paid to the most eminent teachers in Athens. Isocrates himself charged each pupil ten minae, or £ 33:6:8. When he taught in Athens, he is said to have had a hundred pupils. I take this to mean the number he taught at one time, or who attended what we would call a single course of lectures. For so great a city and so famous a teacher, who taught rhetoric, then the most fashionable of all sciences, the number is hardly surprising. Each course of lectures must therefore have brought him a thousand minae, or £ 3335:6:8. Plutarch accordingly says elsewhere that a thousand minae was his didactron, or usual fee for teaching. Many other eminent teachers of the period seem to have acquired great fortunes. Georgias presented the temple at Delphi with a statue of himself in solid gold. We need not, I presume, suppose that it was life-size. Plato describes his style of life, and those of Hippias and Protagoras, two other eminent teachers of the age, as splendid to the point of ostentation. Plato himself is said to have lived in considerable magnificence. Aristotle, after tutoring Alexander and receiving, as is universally agreed, the most generous rewards from him and his father Philip, nevertheless thought it worthwhile to return to Athens to resume teaching at his school. Teachers of the sciences were probably less common then than they became a century or two later, when competition had probably somewhat lowered both the price of their labor and the admiration felt for them. Yet the most eminent always seem to have enjoyed a standing far higher than that of anyone in the same profession today. The Athenians sent Carneades the Academic and Diogenes the Stoic on a formal embassy to Rome; and though their city had declined from its former greatness, it was still an independent and considerable republic.

Carneades, moreover, was Babylonian by birth; and since no people were ever more reluctant than the Athenians to admit foreigners to public office, they must have held him in very high regard.

On the whole, this inequality is perhaps more beneficial than harmful to the public. It may somewhat diminish the standing of the public teacher; but cheap literary education is surely an advantage far outweighing this slight inconvenience. The public might benefit still more if the organization of the schools and colleges where education takes place were more reasonable than it now is across most of Europe.

Thirdly, European policy, by obstructing the free movement of labor and stock both between occupations and between places, sometimes produces a very troublesome inequality in the total advantages and disadvantages of different employments.

The apprenticeship statute obstructs the free movement of labor between occupations, even within a single place. The exclusive privileges of corporations obstruct its movement between places, even within a single occupation.

It often happens that while workmen in one manufacture receive high wages, those in another must make do with bare subsistence. One industry is growing and constantly needs more hands; the other is declining, and its surplus of hands continually grows. The two may operate in the same town, sometimes even in the same neighborhood, yet be unable to give one another the least help. The apprenticeship statute may prevent this in one case, and both that statute and an exclusive corporation in the other. In many manufactures, however, the operations are so similar that workers could readily change trades if these absurd laws did not stop them. Weaving plain linen and plain silk, for example, are almost exactly alike. Weaving plain wool is somewhat different, but so slightly that a linen or silk weaver could become a competent wool worker in a few days. If any one of these three major manufactures were declining, its workers could therefore find refuge in one of the other two if it were prospering; wages would neither rise too high in the thriving industry nor sink too low in the declining one. A particular statute does, indeed, open linen manufacture in England to everyone. But since it is not widely practiced in most of the country, it offers no general refuge to workers from other declining industries. Wherever the apprenticeship statute applies, their only choice is to seek parish relief or to work as ordinary laborers, for which their habits equip them much less well than for any manufacture resembling their own. They generally choose parish relief.

Anything that obstructs the free movement of labor between occupations also obstructs that of stock, since the amount of stock employable in a branch of business depends greatly on the amount of labor that can be employed there. Corporation laws, however, impede the movement of stock between places less than they impede that of labor. Everywhere it is much easier for a wealthy merchant to obtain the privilege of trading in a corporate town than for a poor artisan to obtain the privilege of working there.

The obstruction to the free movement of labor created by corporation laws is, I believe, common throughout Europe. That created by the poor laws is, as far as I know, peculiar to England. It lies in the difficulty a poor man faces in obtaining a settlement, or even being permitted to work, in any parish other than his own. Corporation laws obstruct the free movement only of artisans’ and manufacturers’ labor. The difficulty of obtaining settlement obstructs even that of ordinary laborers. It may be worthwhile to describe the origin, development, and present condition of this disorder, perhaps the worst of any in the administration of England.

When the destruction of the monasteries deprived the poor of their charity, and other attempts at relief had failed, the 43d of Elizabeth, c. 2. enacted that each parish must provide for its own poor. Overseers of the poor were to be appointed annually and, together with the churchwardens, raise adequate funds for the purpose through a parish rate.

People have considered it so important to educate enough young people for certain professions that public bodies and private donors have set up many pensions, scholarships, grants, bursaries, and similar forms of support. These bring many more people into those professions than could otherwise hope to enter them. In every Christian country, I believe, most clergy are educated this way. Very few pay the whole cost themselves. Those who do pay for their own long, demanding, and expensive education will not always earn a suitable return. The church is crowded with people willing to accept much less pay to get a position than such an education would otherwise command. In this way, competition from the poor reduces the reward of the rich. It would certainly be improper to compare a curate or chaplain with a journeyman in an ordinary trade. But the pay of a curate or chaplain can quite reasonably be treated as the same kind of payment as a journeyman's wages. All three are paid for their work under whatever agreement they make with the people who employ them. Until after the middle of the fourteenth century, the usual pay of a curate or a salaried parish priest in England was five merks, containing about as much silver as ten pounds of our present money. Several national church councils set this rate in their decrees. At the same time, the stated pay of a master mason was fourpence a-day, containing as much silver as a shilling of our present money. A journeyman mason earned threepence a-day, equal to ninepence of our present money. [See the Statute of Laborers, 25, Ed. III.] If both masons had steady work, their wages were much higher than the curate's pay. Even if the master mason lacked work for one-third of the year, his wages would have fully equaled it. The 12th of Queen Anne, c. 12. declares: “Because curates have not received enough pay or encouragement, parish duties have been poorly performed in several places. The bishop may therefore set, in a document bearing his signature and seal, a definite and adequate stipend or allowance of at least twenty and no more than fifty pounds a-year.” Forty pounds a-year is now considered very good pay for a curate. Yet despite this act of parliament, many curacies pay under twenty pounds a-year. Journeymen shoemakers in London earn forty pounds a-year, and hardly any hardworking worker of any kind there earns less than twenty. Even ordinary laborers in many rural parishes often earn as much as that last amount. Whenever the law has tried to set workers' wages, its aim has been to lower them rather than raise them. But it has often tried to raise curates' pay, requiring parish rectors, for the dignity of the church, to pay them more than the miserable amount the curates themselves might accept. In both cases the law seems equally ineffective. It has neither raised curates' wages nor lowered laborers' wages as intended. It cannot prevent curates from accepting less than the legal allowance because they are poor and face many competitors. Nor can it prevent laborers from receiving more, because employers compete for their work in hopes of earning a profit or gaining pleasure from it.

Large benefices and other high church positions preserve the church's standing despite the poverty of some lower-ranking clergy. The respect given to the profession also makes up, to some degree, for their low pay. In England and every Roman Catholic country, the chance of winning a valuable church position is actually better than it needs to be. The churches of Scotland, Geneva, and several other Protestant places show that this respected profession can attract enough educated, decent, respectable men to the clergy with the prospect of much smaller benefices, especially when education is so easy to obtain.

In professions without benefices, such as law and medicine, publicly educating the same proportion of people would soon produce so much competition that earnings would fall sharply. It might then no longer be worthwhile for anyone to pay to educate a son for either profession. Only people educated through public charities would enter them. Their numbers and their need for work would generally force them to accept miserable pay, bringing the now respected professions of law and medicine into complete disrepute.

The unfortunate group usually called men of letters are already in much the position that lawyers and physicians would probably occupy in that case. Across Europe, most were educated for the church but were prevented for various reasons from becoming clergy. They were therefore generally educated at public expense. There are so many of them everywhere that the price paid for their work is usually very low.

Before printing was invented, a man of letters could earn money from his talents only by teaching publicly or privately. He passed on the interesting and useful knowledge he had acquired. Teaching is surely still more honorable, more useful, and generally even more profitable than writing for a bookseller, an occupation made possible by printing. The time and study, talent, knowledge, and effort needed to become an outstanding teacher of the sciences are at least as great as those needed to become a leading lawyer or physician. But an outstanding teacher's usual pay is nowhere near theirs. Teaching is crowded with poor people educated for it at public expense, while very few lawyers or physicians have not paid for their own education. The usual pay of public and private teachers may seem small, but it would certainly be smaller still if the competition of even poorer men of letters, who write to earn a living, did not draw them out of teaching. Before printing, the words scholar and beggar seem to have meant almost the same thing. University officials of that time appear often to have given their scholars permission to beg.

In ancient times, before charities began educating poor people for the learned professions, outstanding teachers seem to have received much higher pay. In his discourse against the sophists, Isocrates accuses the teachers of his day of contradicting themselves. “They make enormous promises to their students,” he says, “and undertake to teach them to be wise, happy, and just. In exchange for such an important service, they ask for the tiny payment of four or five minae.” He continues: “Those who teach wisdom should surely be wise themselves. But anyone selling such a bargain at such a price would clearly be shown to be a fool.” He certainly is not exaggerating their pay, and we can be sure it was at least as high as he says. Four minae equaled thirteen pounds six shillings and eightpence; five minae equaled sixteen pounds thirteen shillings and fourpence. At that time, therefore, the most distinguished teachers at Athens must normally have been paid at least the higher of these sums. Isocrates himself charged each student ten minae, or £ 33:6:8. He is said to have had a hundred students when he taught at Athens. I take this to mean the number he taught at one time, or in what we would call a single course of lectures. That number is not surprising in a city so large, for a teacher so famous, teaching rhetoric, the most fashionable subject of the day. He must therefore have made a thousand minae, or £ 3335:6:8, from each course. Accordingly, Plutarch elsewhere says that a thousand minae was his didactron, or normal teaching fee. Many other celebrated teachers of that time seem to have made great fortunes. Georgias gave the temple at Delphi a solid-gold statue of himself. I assume it was not life-sized. Plato describes Georgias, Hippias, and Protagoras, two other leading teachers, as living splendidly, even showily. Plato himself is said to have lived in considerable splendor. Aristotle tutored Alexander and, as everyone agrees, was rewarded very generously by both Alexander and his father, Philip. Yet he still thought it worthwhile to return to Athens and resume teaching at his school. Teachers of the sciences were probably less common then than a century or two later, when competition probably reduced both their pay and the admiration they received. Still, the most distinguished teachers seem always to have enjoyed much higher standing than teachers of the same kind today. The Athenians sent Carneades the academic and Diogenes the stoic as official ambassadors to Rome. Athens had lost its former greatness by then, but was still a significant independent republic.

Carneades was also born in Babylonia. No people were more reluctant than the Athenians to let foreigners hold public office, so they must have held him in very high regard.

On balance, this inequality may benefit the public more than it harms it. It may lower the standing of public teaching somewhat. But inexpensive literary education is surely an advantage that far outweighs that small drawback. The public could gain even more if the schools and colleges providing that education were organized more sensibly than most now are across Europe.

Thirdly, European policy prevents labor and stock from moving freely both between kinds of work and between places. In some cases, this produces very troublesome differences in the overall advantages and disadvantages of different kinds of work.

Apprenticeship laws keep labor from moving freely between kinds of work, even in the same place. The exclusive privileges of corporations keep it from moving between places, even within the same trade.

Workers in one industry often earn high wages while those in another must get by on barely enough to live. One industry is growing and constantly needs more workers. The other is declining, with a growing excess of workers. These industries may operate in the same town, or even the same neighborhood, without being able to help each other at all. Apprenticeship laws can block workers in one case; those laws together with exclusive corporate privileges can block them in the other. Yet many industries have such similar tasks that workers could easily change trades if these absurd laws did not stop them. Weaving plain linen and plain silk, for example, involve almost exactly the same work. Weaving plain woolen cloth is a little different, but the difference is so slight that a linen or silk weaver could become competent at it in just a few days. If any of these three major industries declined, its workers could find an alternative in one of the other two, if that industry was doing better. Wages would then neither climb too high in the growing industry nor sink too low in the declining one. A particular statute does let anyone make linen in England. But linen production is uncommon across most of the country, so it provides no general alternative for workers in other declining industries. Where apprenticeship laws apply, such workers have only two choices: depend on parish relief, or become ordinary laborers. Their previous habits leave them much less suited to ordinary labor than to manufacturing work resembling their own. They therefore usually choose parish relief.

Anything that prevents labor from moving freely between occupations also prevents stock from moving. How much stock can be used in a business largely depends on how much labor can be used there. Corporation laws, however, do less to stop stock from moving between places than labor. Everywhere it is much easier for a wealthy merchant to gain permission to trade in a chartered town than for a poor craftsman to gain permission to work there.

I believe corporation laws restrict the free movement of labor throughout Europe. The restriction imposed by the poor laws, as far as I know, is peculiar to England. It comes from the difficulty a poor man faces in gaining a legal settlement in any parish except his own, or even in being allowed to work there. Corporation laws restrict only the movement of craftspeople and manufacturing workers. The difficulty of getting a settlement restricts even ordinary labor. It is worth describing the beginnings, development, and present state of this problem, perhaps the worst in England's laws governing society.

When the monasteries were destroyed, the poor lost the charity those religious houses had provided. After other attempts to help them failed, the 43d of Elizabeth, c. 2. required every parish to provide for its own poor. Each year it was to appoint overseers of the poor, who, together with the churchwardens, would raise enough money for this purpose through a parish tax.