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be appropriated by the capitalist as additional profit, as he must have made his bargain with the labourers, and paid them their wages before that conclusion; and he could not have done so out of a fund which was not in ex

istence till after it. The fact is, Mr. M'Culloch is unwittingly right in assuming the advance to remain as before, £1,000; but he is wrong in his estimate of the profit on the transaction; for that profit must have been the original profit of £200, plus the result of the increased produce, or £1200, that is, £1,400, or 140 per cent., instead of 54 per cent., as stated by Mr. McCulloch; or 30 per cent., as estimated by Mr. Longfield.

If then, it be true, that wages depend, as has been maintained, exclusively on the amount of the fund made applicable by the capitalists to the purchase of labour, and that this amount is determined previous to, and independent of, the production of the commodities about which the labourers are employed; profits will on the other hand depend altogether on the excess of those commodities thus produced, above the amount distributed amongst the labourers by whom the production is effected; in other words, the rate of profit depends upon, and is regulated by, the productiveness of labour. The principal circumstances which affect the productiveness of labour, are the following:-1st. The remuneration or wages of the labourer; 2d. His strength, energy, and skill; 3d. The skill and intelligence of the capitalist in the use and direction of his powers; and 4th. The efficiency of the agents or machinery by which he is assisted. The first of these circumstances would naturally tend, in the progress of society, to make labour less productive, by the increased remuneration that would follow the natural augmentation of the fund for the maintenance of labour, were this tendency not more than counteracted by the strong propensity to an increase in the number of labourers or competitors for shares of the labour fund. This circumstance, therefore, will, on the whole, be found in civilized societies to have a tendency to increase the productive powers this of labour, as remuneration has a tendency to diminish. It is, however, worthy of remark,

that a diminution of wages would appear in every case to involve a diminution of produce, and vice versa; in other words, a labourer ill clothed, ill lodged, and ill fed, cannot produce the same quantity of goods with a labourer well clothed, well lodged, and well fed, which may again illustrate the falsehood of Mr. Ricardo's hypothesis, that what is lost by the labourer is gained by the capitalist, and what is gained by the labourer is lost by the capitalist. Second, the work done by the labourer will vary according to his strength, energy, and skill. This work is the property of the employer or capitalist, who purchased the right to it by the payment of the wages of the labourer before its production, and therefore the more powerful and skilful the workmen of a community may be, the higher "ceteris paribus" will be the rate of profit. Third, the skill and intelligence of the employers has manifestly a great and extensive effect in increasing the amount of the produce from a given quantity of labour, and must exercise a corresponding influence on the rate of profit; and it is the natural increase which in the progress of civilization takes place in the energy, skill, and intelligence of the people at large, which most powerfully tends to check the fall of profits, which the decreased efficiency of the agents, by which the labourer is assisted, renders inevitable. It may appear extraordinary at first view, that the general efficiency of the agents by which the labourer is assisted, should have a constant tendency to decline, when we see around us the numerous and extraordinary contrivances which the ingenuity of man has devised for the saving of time and labour. But, nevertheless, a closer examination will show that such is the fact; for the efficiency of that agent, which is, of all others, most necessary to our existence, has a natural and unavoidable tendency to decrease: that agent is land; every successive addition to the cultivated portion of which-in other words, every additional machine for the production of food-is likely to be less productive than the preceding. Mr. Longfield has shown that the profits of all machines, or agents for assisting labour, must be determined by the productiveness of that one which is necessarily

employed with least effect; for the value of the produce of those which are more efficient, must be reduced so much as to leave the employers of all upon a level, otherwise those who worked the less productive agents would quit them for others by which they could procure more. This least efficient of all the agents for assisting labour, is the land last brought into cultivation, which may appear evident from the fact, that it is the last employment to which capital was necessarily directed; and the fact that a similar agent, only one degree less powerful, is too inefficient to be employed at all. By the profits, therefore, or returns to capital upon this land, other circumstances remaining unchanged, will the profits of all other businesses be regulated; and it is likely, if these views be correct, that it will scarcely be denied that the difference existing between Mr. Longfield and his predecessors on the subject of the great regulating principle of profits, is one more verbal than real. It is the return to capital on the worst land in cultivation, say they, which regulates the rate of profit; it is the return to capital on the least productive machine, says Mr. Longfield. Softly, gentlemen.-You are all agreed, if it should so happen, that the least productive machine, or agent for assisting labour, is, in fact, the worst land in cultivation.

From a consideration of these views it will appear that wages are paid out of a fund existing before the commodities are produced by the labourers to whom they are paid, and not out of the commodities produced by those labourers; and therefore, that it is not true that "the great mass of labourers must be paid out of the produce, or the price of the produce of their labour." The produce of their labour is the property of the capitalist, part of which may, indeed, and most likely will be employed again in the purchase of labour, but not of the labour by which the commodities themselves were produced; and the subsequent employment of these commodities will form a new series of productive operations, which must be considered as being, and are, in fact, actually distinct from those by which they themselves were originally produced. Wages, therefore, depend entirely on

the amount of the funds made applicable by their owners to the purchase of labour, compared with the number of labourers, or of shares into which those funds must be divided; and the only way by which they can possibly be increased, is by a relative increase of those funds. Profits, on the other hand, are the result of wages-the end for the attainment of which, wages are the means; and it therefore cannot be true, "that the wages of labour depend upon the rate of profit," any more than it can be true, that the antecedent can depend upon its consequent, the cause upon its effect. Profits depend generally on the productive powers of labour; in estimating which, the price of labour or wages is an important element, but not the only one on which that productiveness depends.

There is but one more subject in Mr. Longfield's work to which it is now necessary to advert, viz., his animadversions on the opinion which has been extensively entertained among political economists, "that the value of labour, like every thing else, (ultimately,) depends upon the cost of production; and that the cost of production of a labourer is that sum which, according to his natural or artificial wants, is sufficient to support the labourer, together with, on the average, such a family as is necessary in order to keep up the population of the country" in such a condition as the custom of society, and the ideas of the labourers themselves, recognise as necessary and sufficient. He maintains that "no such calculations are made previous to the production of a common labourer. He is not produced for the sake of what he can afterwards earn. The expression, therefore, cost of production, is merely metaphorical when applied to such a case; and no argument can be drawn from it, since the analogy is deficient in the very circumstance through which the cost of production affects the price of articles of commerce." Now, it may fairly be granted to Mr. Longfield, that the expression "cost of production," is one not very suitable for the case in question; yet it might be rather difficult to make out that there is not some principle analagous to the cost of production of articles of commerce, which tends to accommodate the supply of labour or the num

ber of labourers, to the demand for labour, or the amount of the fund applicable to its purchase: in fact, such calculations as Mr. Longfield speaks of, are in truth made previous to the production of a labourer, although it may not be in the precise and learned terms of a political economist. Such calculations are made in every country where prudence and forethought form any of the characteristics of the peasantry. What, for instance, is the natural question for a prudent young man of the labouring class to ask himself previous to entering into a marriage? Is it not, have I the means of supporting a wife and family in decency and comfort, according to the manner in which I have myself been brought up? If the answer be in the negative, is it not right-nay, in those countries which possess a prudent peasantry, is it not actually the practice, to abstain until the necessary means have been saved or procured?-and it is precisely this calculation which forms the means, and the only means the labouring classes possess of keeping up the price of their labour, to what some may call the cost of production, but which might, with more propriety, be called the natural or proper price in each peculiar society. When these calculations are not made, and it is too true that in many cases and in many countries (our own unfortunately amongst the number) they are not, the result must inevitably be the depression of the price of labour below its natural value, and the consequent misery, destitution, and crime, which are the invariable concomitants of such a state of things; and the misfortune is, that it is one which, instead of having a tendency to bring its own remedy, rather tends, (and herein there is a difference between the cost of production of labour and commodities,) when it arrives at a certain point of degradation, to perpetuate itself,

but unless what he does get is, according to his notion, sufficient to support a family in decency and respectability, he ought, and if he be prudent he will, avoid having one; and this avoidance, which is nothing very much out of the common way, and which in well regulated societies is occurring every day, produces the requisite adjustment of supply to demand, and a consequent rise, or rather maintenance of the price of labour.

I must now, Sir, conclude my observations on this work, which have already perhaps run to an inconvenient and unreasonable length; at the same time, the importance of the subjects treated of demanded full discussion; they involve principles and rules of conduct in which the well-being of society is deeply, nay, vitally interested; they involve, in a peculiar manner, the consideration of the causes, circumstances, and remedies of the present condition of the labouring classes in Ireland. To that condition it is impossible that you, Sir, can look without anxiety; it is scarcely possible that any one can look without perplexity; and on the means which shall be taken to check the tide of pauperism and turbulence which threatens to overwhelm us, will depend the happiness and prosperity of millions yet unborn. Let one more false step be made, and who shall be found bold enough to answer for the consequences? The apparently unruffled surface of society at the present moment is but

"The torrent's smoothness ere it dash below."

And who can say, with certainty, how far we may be from the cataract which will involve all orders of society in one common gulf of ruin.

To Mr. Longfield, for his work, his country is much indebted; and I trust its appearance will form a new era in the history of our gentry-of that class on whose conduct and whose principles so much of the well-being of society

"Haud facile emergunt, quorum virtutibus depends. That it may serve the pur

obstat

Res angusta domi."

It is undoubtedly true, that at any given time the expenses and mode of living of a labourer must depend upon his wages, for he cannot spend more than he can get, and he cannot get more that there is to give him;

pose of arresting their attention, and directing their minds to the careful examination of the present condition of the people, and the adoption of such means as may, by tending to increase the amount of the fund for the support of labour relatively to their numbers, or to decrease their numbers

in relation to the amount of the fund for their support, lay the foundations of a permanent edifice of social happi

ness.

hope of recovery still more distant and futile

"Facilis descensus Averno;

Without such attention and Sed revocare gradum superasque evadere ad

close examination on the part of those who are, or at least ought to be, the prime movers of our public affairs, I can see little before us but a deeper plunge into the abyss of misery and social disorganization, rendering any

auras,

Hoc opus, hic labor est."

I have the honour to be, Sir,
Your very obedient servant,

A. Z.

THE PLEASURES OF GRIEF.

"Heu quanto minus est cum reliquis versari, quam tui meminisse !"-SHENSTONE.

How strangely are our tempers cast!

I seek not to forget;

But even view misfortunes past

With something like regret.

There's hoarseness ever in the roll
Of floods that towards us flow;
But ebbing sorrows soothe the soul,
And soften as they go.

The gloomiest season of distress,
When grief has had its day,
Receives a tint of tenderness
As it recedes away.

Thus, upward as the mist doth move,

It blushes into sight;

A fog below, a cloud above,

And dyed with heavenly light.

SONNETS.

No. III-NOON.

God! 'tis a glorious sight to see the star of day
At noon tide climb to his empyrean height,
Then check one moment his eternal flight
O'er the hushed earth that glows beneath his sway-
Still dreamy summer Noon!-The headlong ray
Pierces the leafy grove's umbrageous night,

The streamlet shuns its shadeless banks, and bright
Leaps in its chainless speed. On bending spray
Sings the brown thrush to heaven his anthem free;
The bee is rustling in the wild flower's cell,

When, hark! the pealing of some clear-toned bell
Flings through the sultry air sweet melody,

Telling the blushing maid to spread with sylvan glee
The labourer's mid-day meal beneath the hawthorn tree.

No. IV.-EVENING.

How sweet to watch at day's declining hour

The broad red sun wheel down the mountain's side;
To view, through heaven's blue, deep and boundless tide,
The billowy clouds their gold-tinged breakers pour
Fast round the sinking giant's head; while bright
His beams shoot up beyond the baffled cloud
That vainly seeks his setting rays to shroud :
And slow as steals his radiance from the sight,
Fading to twilight through a thousand hues,

The gladsome laugh of heart untouched by care
Melts into music on the evening air,

As home the toil-freed swain his path pursues:
While fresh'ning dews fall on the thirsting ground,
And balmy odours fill the air around.

No. V.-CONTEMPLATION.

Place me at stilly noon on some high ground,
Where mortal's voice intrudes no earthly care,
Whence I may view heaven's glorious fabric rear
It's giant arches based on earth all round;
And, freed from time, hear nature's language flow-
Day uttering unto day God's wondrous pow'r ;t
Or, at the moonless, starry, midnight hour,
See night, to night, God's boundless knowledge show.
Spirit Omniscient! where can mortal fly,

To hide from thee who countless worlds can fill ?

In morning's light he feels thy piercing eye,

And darkness finds him trembling 'fore thee still :
Where light can dwell not, shape, nor shade, nor sound,
Nor space, nor time, but thought-there Thou art found.

* No. I. "NIGHT," Vol. II. p. 443; No. II. "MORNING," p. 556.

IOTA.

"Day unto day uttereth speech, and night unto night showeth knowledge." Psalm 19. v. 2.

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