Whether industry has done hurt to population, by augmenting the relative, and diminishing the absolute produce of agriculture; or whether it has done good to it, by encouraging the science in general, and extending the exercise of it over the face of the earth, is a matter of fact which I shall leave to others, better informed than I am, to determine. For my own part, I believe that thousands of examples may be found of the one and the other. I know corn fields, where villages formerly stood, the inhabitants of which fed themselves with the pure produce of absolute agriculture; that is, with a bit of garden ground, and the milk of a cow: there surely is depopulation: but, at a small distance from the place where those villages stood, I see corn fields, where nothing but heath was to be met with; this marks population. I seek no more than to explain from facts the principles I am endeavouring to discover, and shall leave general conclusions to others, as I have already said.

There is a maxim in law, which may be extended almost to every thing in this world, unum quodque eodem modo solvitur quo colligatum est. Industry forms this species of absolute agriculture; industry destroys it. A military force raised the Roman greatness; a military force destroyed it. A spirit of liberty may form a noble constitution, and a spirit of liberty may break the same to pieces. The States of Denmark restrained the royal power and established a free government; the same States rendered that very power unlimited, and established there the purest monarchy in Christendom. But these reflections are foreign to our subject: Ne sutor ultra crepidam. I return.

When industry is set on foot, it gives encouragement to agriculture exercised as a trade: and by the allurements of ease, which a large surplus procures to the farmers, it does hurt to that species which is exercised as a method of subsistence. Lands become more generally and less thoroughly laboured. In some countries tillage is set on foot and encouraged; this is an operose agriculture. While industry goes forward, and while a people can remain satisfied with a nourishment consisting chiefly of bread, this system of agriculture will subsist, and will carry numbers very high. If wealth increases, and if those who have it begin to demand a much greater proportion of work than formerly, while they consume no more food, then I believe numbers may diminish from the principles I am now going in quest of.

I return to the council of the island where the proposition laid down upon the carpet is, The scanty subsistence of the inhabitants requires redress.

A Machiavelian stands up (of such there are some in every country) and proposes, in place of multiplying the inhabitants, by rendering agriculture more operose, to diminish their number, by throwing a quantity of corn fields into grass. What is the intention of agriculture, says he, but to nourish a state? By our operose method of plowing and sowing, one half of the whole produce is consumed by those who raise it; whereas by having a great part of our island in pasture, one half of the husbandmen may be saved. Pray what do you propose to do with those whom you intend to make idle? replies a citizen. Let them betake themselves to industry. But industry is sufficiently, nay more than sufficiently stocked already. If, says Machiavel, the supernumerary husbandmen be thrown out of a way of living, they may go where they please; we have no occasion for them, nor for any one who lives only to feed himself. But you diminish the number of your people, replies the citizen, and consequently your strength; and if afterwards you come to be attacked by your enemies, you will wish to have those back again for your defence, whom in your security you despised. To this the other makes answer: there you trust to the Egyptian reed. If they be necessary for feeding us at present, how shall we be able to live while we employ them as soldiers? We may live without many things, but not without the labour of our husbandmen. Whether we have our grounds in tillage or in pasture, if that class be rightly proportioned to the labour required, we never can take any from it. In those countries where we see princes have recourse to the land to recruit their armies, we may safely conclude, that there the land is overstocked; and that industry has not as yet been able to purge off all the superfluous mouths: but with us the case is different, where agriculture is justly proportioned to the number of husbandmen. If I propose a reform, it is only to augment the surplus, upon which all the state, except the husbandmen, are fed; if the surplus after the reform is greater than at present, the plan is good, although 250 of our farmers should thereby be forced to starve for hunger.

Though no man is, I believe, capable to reason in so inhuman a style, and though the revolution here proposed be an impossible supposition, if meant to be executed all at once, the same effects however must be produced, in every country where we see corn fields by degrees turned into pasture; only the change is gradual, industry is not overstocked any where, and subsistence may be drawn from other countries, where the operose species of agriculture can be carried on with profit.

Familiar experience proves the truth of this. I have a corn farm, where I maintain ten horses and four servants for the cultivation alone: at the end of the year I find my surplus equal to 40l. sterling. If, by throwing my grounds into grass, I can dismiss three servants and eight horses, and at the end of the year raise my surplus to 50l. sterling, who doubts of my doing it? Is not this following the doctrine above laid down? But there is nothing odious in this; because I do not see these three servants die for hunger, nor is it a consequence they should, as states are formed. They turn themselves to industry, and food comes from abroad, in proportion as the country itself produces a less quantity. Fact and experience prove this assertion, and I cite Holland as an example, where every branch of operose agriculture is exploded, except for such productions as cannot be brought from other countries. I introduced the rough Machiavelian only to set principles in a strong light, and particularly that concerning the recruiting of armies from the land, which I take to be both a true one, and one necessary to be attended to, to wit, that those who must labour for the subsistence of the society, can be of little use for the defence of a state, in case of any emergency. Princes have found out the truth of this, and in proportion as industry has extended itself, regular armies have been found necessary to be kept up in times of peace, in order to be had in times of war. A militia composed of people truly industrious, I take to be far better in speculation than in practice. How would a militia do in Holland? how admirable was it not formerly in Scotland, Poland, and Catalonia? And how admirably does it still succeed in the armies of the house of Austria? I may however be mistaken; for a military and an industrious spirit may be found compatible with one another in some particular nations: time perhaps will clear up this matter. Thus much with regard to a militia. Now as to recruiting a regular army.

The more they are recruited from the land, the less they desert. The army of the Russians, for example, now assembled (1758) hardly knows desertion, those of the house of Austria, taken from certain provinces where there is almost no industry, are in the same case, also the militia of France which I consider as regular troops. On the other hand, those armies which are raised in the countries where industry has taken root are chiefly composed of loose fellows, the excrements of populous cities, the sons of vice and idleness, who have neither domicil nor attachment. These are soldiers truly by trade, and make a trade of it; how many thousands of such are now to be found? they come to market every season, and the best bidder has them while he can hold them. Some princes make a point not to receive their own deserters back, but accept of those who have committed the same infidelity to others; while others content themselves with punishing those who fail in their attempt to desert, but receive them back when they return of their own accord, after having accomplished their desertion. All is now become commerce, and seems to be regulated by the principles of it. I return to our agriculture.

Does not the exposition we have now given of these principles tend to cast a light upon the first question dismissed in this chapter, to wit, the effects of an equal and an unequal distribution of the property of lands?

When these are once well cultivated and improved, it is of no consequence to whom the property belongs; for by the property of such lands I only can mean the surplus, as we have abundantly explained elsewhere. Let therefore the property of all the lands of a kingdom, fully improved, belong to the state, or to any number of individuals, however few, there is no question of improvement; no difference as to agricultureagriculture, no difference as to population, according to modern policy. So long as the whole is well cultivated and made to produce, by a set of men I call farmers, the end is fully obtained; and according to the nature of the agriculture, which many different circumstances of taste and manner of living has introduced, larger or smaller portions of land must be allotted to each of them.

If you suppose a country not as yet improved, as many are, then, the case becomes quite different, and small possessions are necessary, both for multiplying the inhabitants and for improving the soil. In this supposition the most operose agriculture may be carried on in competition with the most lucrative; because when there is a question of improvement, there is frequently a considerable outgoing instead of any surplus after paying the labour.

Agriculture for improvement can be carried on by none but those who have wealth and superfluity, and is prosecuted with a view to future, not to present advantage: of this we shall treat in another place. For I consider it as a quite different operation, influenced by different principles, and no ways to be confounded with the present subject of inquiry. But I have insensibly been wandering through an extensive subject, and it is now time to return.

I have said above that a river might as easily ascend to its source, as an industrious people voluntarily adopt a more operose system of agriculture than that already established, while the spirit of industry prevails on one hand, and while farmers have profit only in view on the other. In consequence of this position, I have treated the plan proposed for augmenting the inhabitants of the island, by the introduction of a more operose agriculture as absurd, and so it certainly is: but let me throw in a circumstance which affects the spirit of that people, and the plan becomes plausible and easy.

Let a part of the wealthy proprietors of the lands take a taste for agriculture. Let a Tull, a Du Hamel turn agriculture into an object of luxury, of amusement. Let this science be turned into a Missisippi, or South Sea scheme. Let the rich be made to believe that treasures are to be found at a small expence, laid at first out upon farming, and you will soon see the most operose species of the science go forward, and the produce of it come to market and be sold, in spite of all competition. My Lady Duchess’s knotting may be sold at so much a pound, as well as that performed by a girl who does not spend six pence a day; but if the one and the other be considered relatively to the expence of the manufacturer, every knot of my Lady’s will be found to have cost as much as a pound of the other. The Duchess’s pound, however, increases the quantity of knots; and so does my Lord’s farm the mass of subsistence for the whole society. The nation also gains by his extravagance having taken a turn, which may produce the permanent good effect of improving a part of the country, though at an expence infinitely beyond the value of it. I must now again touch upon another part of my subject, which I think has been treated too superficially.

In a former chapter I have shewn how industry has the natural effect of collecting into towns and cities the free hands of a state, leaving the farmers in their farms and villages. This distribution served the purpose of explaining certain principles; but when examined relatively to other circumstances which at that time I had not in my eye, it will be found by far too general. Let me therefore add some farther observations upon that matter.

The extensive agriculture of plowing and sowing, is the proper employment of the country, and is the foundation of population in every nation fed upon its own produce. Cities are commonly surrounded by kitchen gardens, and rich grass fields; these are the proper objects of agriculture for those who live in suburbs, or who are shut up within the walls of small towns. The gardens produce various kinds of nourishment, which cannot easily be brought from a distance, in that fresh and luxuriant state which pleases the eye, and conduces to health. They offer a continual occupation to man, and very little for cattle, therefore are properly situated in the proximity of towns and cities. The grass fields again are commonly either grazed by cows, for the production of milk, butter, cream, &c. which suffer by long carriage; or kept in pasture for preserving fatted animals in good order until the markets demand them; or they are cut in grass for the cattle of the city. They may also be turned into hay with profit; because the carriage of a bulky commodity from a great distance is sometimes too expensive. Thus we commonly find agriculture disposed in the following manner. In the center stands the city surrounded by kitchen gardens; beyond these lies a belt of fine luxuriant pasture or hay fields; stretch beyond this and you find the beginning of what I call operose farming, plowing and sowing; beyond this lie grazing farms for the fattening of cattle; and last of all come the mountainous and large extents of unimproved or ill improved grounds, where animals are bred. This seems the natural distribution, and such I have found it almost every where established, when particular circumstances do not invert the order.

The poorness of the soil near Paris, for example, presents you with fields of rye corn at the very gates, and with the most extensive kitchen gardens and orchards, even for cherries and peaches, at a considerable distance from town. Other cities I have found, and I can cite the example of that which I at present inhabit, Padoua, where no kitchen garden is to be found near it, but every spot is covered with the richest grain; two thirds with wheat, and the remaining third with Indian corn. The reason of this is palpable. The town is of a vast extent, in proportion to the inhabitants; the gardens are all within the walls, and the dung of the city enables the soil to produce constantly. Hay is brought from a greater distance, because the expence of distributing the dung over a distant field, would be greater than that of transporting the hay by water-carriage. The farm houses here appear no larger than huts, as they really are, built by the farmers, because the space to be laboured is very small, in proportion to the produce; hence it is, that a farmer here pays the value of the full half of the crop to the landlord, and out of the remaining half, not only sows the ground and buys the dung, but furnishes the cattle and labouring instruments, nay even rebuilds his house, when occasion requires.

When first I examined these fertile plains, I began to lament the prodigal consumption of such valuable lands, in a multitude of very broad high-ways, issuing to all quarters; many of which I thought might be saved, in consideration of the vast advantage accruing upon such oeconomy: but upon farther reflection I perceived, that the loss was inconsiderable; for the fertility of the soil proceeding chiefly from the manure laid upon it, the loss sustained from the roads ought to be computed at no more than the value of the land when uncultivated. The case would be very different, were roads now to be changed, or new ones carried through the corn fields; the loss then would be considerable, though even that would be temporary, and only affect particular persons: for the same dung, which now supports these lands in their fertility, would quickly fertilize others in their places and in a few years matters would stand as at present.

These last reflections lead me naturally to examine a question which has been treated by a very polite French writer, the author of l’Ami de l’homme, and which comes in here naturally enough, before I put an end to this first book. Here it is.

Does an unnecessary consumption of the earth’s productions, either in food, cloathing, or other wants; and a prodigal employment of fine rich fields, in gardens, avenues, great roads, and other uses which give small returns, hurt population, by rendering food and necessaries less abundant, in a kingdom such as France, in its present situation?

My answer is, That if France were fully cultivated and peopled, the introduction of superfluous consumption would be an abuse, and would diminish the number of inhabitants; as the contrary is the case, it proves an advantage. I shall now give my reasons for differing in opinion from the gentleman whose performance I have cited.

As the question is put, you perceive the end to be compassed is, to render food and necessaries abundant; because the abuse is considered in no other light, than relatively to the particular effect of diminishing the proper quantity of subsistence, which the king would incline to preserve, for the nourishment and uses of his people. I shall therefore confine myself chiefly to this object, and if I shew, that these superfluous employments of the surface of the earth, and prodigal consumptions of her fruits, are really no harm, but an encouragement to the improvement of the lands of France in her present state, I shall consider the question as sufficiently resolved: because if the abuse, as it is called, proves favourable to agriculture, it can never prove hurtful to population. However, from the inattention of the government, it may affect foreign trade, but this is an object entirely foreign to the question. But before I enter upon the subject, it is proper to observe, that I am of opinion, that any system of oeconomy which necessarily tends to corrupt the manners of a people, ought by every possible means to be discouraged, although no particular prejudice should result from it, either to population, or to plentiful subsistence.

Now, in the question before us, the only abuse I can find in these habits of extraordinary consumption, appears relative to the character of the consumers, and seems in no way to proceed from the effects of the consumption. The vices of men may no doubt prove the cause of their making a superfluous consumption, but the consumption they make can hardly ever be the cause of this vice. The most virtuous man in France may have the most splendid table, the richest clothes, the most magnificent equipages, the greatest number of useless horses, the most pompous palace, and most extensive gardens. The most enormous luxury to be conceived, in our acceptation of the term, so long as it is directed to no other object than the consumption of the labour and ingenuity of man, is compatible with virtue as well as with vice. This being premised, I come to the point in hand.

France, at present, is in her infancy as to improvement, although the advances she has made within a century excite the admiration of the world. I shall not go far in search of the proof of this assertion. Great tracts of her lands are still uncultivated, millions of her inhabitants are idle. When all comes to be cultivated, and all are employed, then she will be in a state of perfection, relatively to the moral possibility of being improved. The people are free, slavery is unknown, and every man is charged with feeding himself, and bringing up his children. The ports of the country are open to receive subsistence, and that nation, as much as any other, may be considered as an individual in the great society of the world; that is, may increase in power, wealth, and ease, relatively to others, in proportion to the industry of her inhabitants. This being the case, all the principles of political oeconomy, which we have been inquiring after, may freely operate in this kingdom.

France has arrived at her present pitch of luxury, relatively to consumption, by slow degrees. As she has grown in wealth, her desire of employing it has grown also. In proportion as her demands have increased, more hands have been employed to supply them; for no article of expence can be increased, without increasing the work of those who supply it. If the same number of inhabitants in the city of Paris consume four times as much of any necessary article as formerly, I hope it will be allowed, that the production of such necessaries must be four times as abundant, and consequently, that many more people must be employed in providing them.

What is it that encourages agriculture, but a great demand for its productions? What encourages multiplication, but a great demand for people; that is, for their work? Would any one complain of the extravagant people in Paris, if, instead of consuming those vast superfluities, they were to send them over to Dover, for a return in English gold? What is the difference between the prodigal consumption, and the sale? The one brings in money, the other brings in none: but as to food and necessaries, for providing the poor and frugal, their contingent, in either case, stands exactly the same.

But, says one, were it not for this extraordinary consumption, every thing would be cheaper. This I readily allow; but will any body say, that reducing the price of the earth’s productions is a method to encourage agriculture, especially in a country where grounds are not improved, and where they cannot be improved; chiefly, because the expence surpasses all the profits which possibly can be drawn from the returns? High prices therefore, the effect of great consumption, are certainly advantageous to the extension of agriculture. If I throw my rich corn fields into gravel-walks and gardens, I suppose they will no more come into competition with those of my neighbour, the laborious husbandman. Who will then lose by my extravagance? Not the husbandman. It will perhaps be said, the nation in general will lose; because you deprive them of their food. This might be true, were the laying waste the corn fields a sudden revolution, and extensive enough to affect the whole society; and were the sea-ports and barriers of the kingdom shut: but that not being the case, the nation, upon the smallest deficiency, goes to market with her money, and loses none of her inhabitants.

Obj. But if living is made dear, manufacturers must starve, for want of employment.

Answ. Not those who supply home consumption, but only those who supply foreigners living more cheaply; and of such I know but few. The interest of this class shall be fully examined in another place. At present I shall only observe, that the laying waste corn fields in an industrious country, where refinement has set on foot a plan of useful husbandry, will have no other effect, than that of rendring grain for a while proportionally dearer: consequently, agriculture will be thereby encouraged; and in a few years the loss will be repaired, by a farther extension of improvement. This will make food plentiful and cheap: then numbers will increase, until it become scarce again. It is by such alternate vicissitudes, that improvement and population are carried to their height. While the improvement of lands goes forward, I must conclude, that demand for subsistence is increasing; and if this be not a proof of population, I am much mistaken.

I can very easily suppose, that a demand for work may increase considerably, in consequence of an augmentation of riches only; because there is no bounds to the consumption of work; but as for articles of nourishment the case is quite different. The most delicate liver in Paris will not put more of the earth’s productions into his belly, than another: he may pick and choose, but he will always find, that what he leaves will go to feed another: victuals are not thrown away in any country I have ever been in. It is not in the most expensive kitchens where there is found the most prodigal dissipation of the abundant fruits of the earth; and it is with such that a people is fed, not with ortolans, truffles, and oysters, sent from Marenne.

Obj. Roads of a superfluous breadth are carried many times through the finest fields, belonging to the poor and industrious, without a proper indemnity being given.

Answ. The with-holding the indemnity is an abuse; the loss of the fields is none to the state, except in such countries where the quantity of arable lands is small, as in mountainous provinces; there a proper consideration should be had to the breadth, because the loss cannot be made up. In such countries as I here describe, and I cite the TirolTirol for an example, I have found all the inhabitants in a manner employed in that species of agriculture, which is exercised as a method of subsisting. The little ground that is arable, is divided into very small lots; the people multiply very much, and leave the country. Those who remain are usually employed in cutting wood, for building and burning, which they send down the rivers, and in return buy corn, which comes from the south and from the north. This is the best plan of industry they can follow, without the assistance of their sovereign. Roads here are executed to great perfection, with abundance of solidity, and with a tender regard for the little ground there is. I return to France.

Obj. A multitude of superfluous horses are kept in Paris, which consume what would feed many more inhabitants.

Answ. True: but he who feeds the horses, because he thinks he has use for them, would not feed those inhabitants, because he is sure he has no use for them: and did he, in complaisance for the public, dismiss his cattle, the farmer, who furnishes the hay and oats, would lose a customer, and nobody would gain. These articles are produced, because they are demanded: when additional inhabitants are produced, who will demand and can pay, their demand will be answered also, as long as there is an unemployed acre in France.

Obj. The increase of the consumption of wood for firing is hurtful to population, because it marks the extension of forests.

Answ. This consequence I deny; both from fact and reason. From fact, because forests are not extended, and that nothing but the hand of nature, in an ill-inhabited country, seems capable of forming them. In France, forests are diminishing daily; and were it not for the jurisdiction of the Table de marbre, they would have been more diminished than they are. I agree, that the consumption of wood is at present infinitely greater than formerly, and likewise, that the price of it is greatly risen every where. These two circumstances rather seem to mark the contraction, than the extension of forests. But the increase of consumption and price proceed from other causes, as I shall shew, in order to point out some new principles relative to this extensive subject. 1. The increase of consumption proceeds from the increase of wealth. 2. The increase of price proceeds from the increase upon the value of labour, and not from the scarcity of forest, nor the height of the demand for firing. As to the first, I believe the fact will not be called in question, as it is one of the superfluities of consumption complained of, and put down to the account of luxury and extravagance. As to the second, the true cause of the rise of the price of that commodity demands a little more attention, and in order to point it out with some distinctness, I must first shew the political impossibility of forests becoming extended over the arable lands of France in her present situation.

The best proof I can offer to support my opinion is, to compare the inconsiderable value of an acre of standing forest in the king’s adjudications, where thousands are sold at a time, with the value of an acre of tolerable corn lands, and then ask, if the present value of forests is so considerable, as to engage any proprietor to sow such a field for raising wood, when he must wait, perhaps 40 years, before it be fit for cutting? Add to this, that whoever plants a tree in France, comes under the jurisdiction above-mentioned, and is not at liberty to cut it down, and dispose of it, without their permission. It is in a great measure for this reason, that so few trees are seen about French villages; and I never heard of one example, of corn lands being sown with the seeds of forest-trees, with a view to improvement. That forests, which are well kept, may extend themselves over grounds not worth the cultivation, I do not deny; but this surely can do no harm to agriculture; and it is only in that respect, I pretend that forests in France are not at present in a way of gaining ground.

Now as to the rise in the price of wood for burning, I say, it proceeds not from the rise of the price of timber growing in forests, so much as from the increase of the price of labour, and principally of the price of transportation. This is not peculiar to France alone, but is common to all Europe almost, for the reasons I shall presently give. But in the first place, as to the matter of fact, that the rise in the price proceeds from the cause assigned, may be seen, by comparing the low price of an acre of standing forest, with the great value of the timber when brought to market: the first is the neat value of the wood; the last includes that of the labour.

Next as to the price of labour; the rise here is universal in all industrious nations, from a very plain reason, easily deducible from the principles above laid down.

While the land remained loaded with a number of superfluous mouths, while numbers were found in every province employed in agriculture, for the sake of subsistence, merely, such people were always ready to employ their idle hours and days, for a very small consideration from those who employed them. They did not then depend upon this employment for their subsistence; and a penny in their pocket purchased some superfluity for them. But when modern policy has by degrees drawn numbers from the country, the few that remain for the service of the public must now labour for theirtheir subsistence; and he who employs them, must feed them, clothe them, and provide for all their other wants. No wonder then, if labour be dearer: there is a palpable reason for the augmentation.

The price of all necessaries has risen, no doubt, partly for the same reason, and this circumstance certainly enters into the combination: but work, in the country especially, has risen far beyond the proportion of the price of necessaries, and will rise still more as the lands become better purged of superfluous mouths.

Notwithstanding what I have said, I readily allow, that the great consumption of wood for burning, but more particularly for forges, has considerably raised the intrinsic value of forest lands; but the consequence has not been, to extend the forests, as we have shewn, but to produce a general revenue from them all over the kingdom; whereas formerly, in many provinces, they produced almost nothing. When they were cut, cattle were turned in, and by eating up the tender shoots from year to year, the forest ran into a wild, neither producing timber, nor pasture. This practice was established upon the ruling principle of private interest. The land was not worth the expence of grubbing up the timber; the timber when grown, did not compensate the loss of a few years pasture. No jurisdiction, however well administred, can check the operation of that principle; and a statesman who would attempt it, would be called a tyrant: he would distress the husbandman, and do no service to the state.

From what has been said, I must conclude, that while the consumption of the earth’s produce, and of the work of man tend to excite industry, in providing for extraordinary demands; when the interest of foreign trade does not enter into the question; and while there are lands enough remaining unimproved, to furnish the first matter; there can be no political abuse from the misapplication or unnecessary destruction of either fruits or labour. The misapplier, or dissipator, is punished by the loss of his money; the industrious man is rewarded by the acquisition of it. We have said, that vice is not more essentially connected with superfluity, than virtue with industry and frugality. But such questions are foreign to my subject. I would however recommend it to moralists, to study circumstances well, before they carry reformation so far, as to interrupt an established system in the political oeconomy of their country.