The Division of Labor

The greatest improvements in the productive powers of labour, and the greater part of the skill, dexterity, and judgment, with which it is anywhere directed, or applied, seem to have been the effects of the division of labour. The effects of the division of labour, in the general business of society, will be more easily understood, by considering in what manner it operates in some particular manufactures. It is commonly supposed to be carried furthest in some very trifling ones; not perhaps that it really is carried further in them than in others of more importance: but in those trifling manufactures which are destined to supply the small wants of but a small number of people, the whole number of workmen must necessarily be small; and those employed in every different branch of the work can often be collected into the same workhouse, and placed at once under the view of the spectator.

The greatest improvements in the productivity of labor seem to have resulted from the division of labor. So too has most of the skill, dexterity, and judgment used to direct or apply labor anywhere. We can better understand how the division of labor affects society’s work as a whole by considering how it operates in particular industries. People commonly suppose that the division of labor is most developed in some very minor industries. Perhaps it is not actually more developed in these industries than in more important ones. But minor industries that supply the small needs of only a few people must have relatively few workers. Workers from every branch of the work can often be brought together in one workshop, where an observer can see them all at once.

In those great manufactures, on the contrary, which are destined to supply the great wants of the great body of the people, every different branch of the work employs so great a number of workmen, that it is impossible to collect them all into the same workhouse. We can seldom see more, at one time, than those employed in one single branch. Though in such manufactures, therefore, the work may really be divided into a much greater number of parts, than in those of a more trifling nature, the division is not near so obvious, and has accordingly been much less observed.

By contrast, large industries supply the major needs of most people. Each branch of the work employs so many workers that they cannot all be brought together in one workshop. We can seldom see more than the workers in a single branch at one time. The work in these industries may actually be divided into many more parts than work in smaller industries. Even so, the division is far less obvious and has therefore attracted much less attention.

To take an example, therefore, from a very trifling manufacture, but one in which the division of labour has been very often taken notice of, the trade of a pin-maker: a workman not educated to this business (which the division of labour has rendered a distinct trade), nor acquainted with the use of the machinery employed in it (to the invention of which the same division of labour has probably given occasion), could scarce, perhaps, with his utmost industry, make one pin in a day, and certainly could not make twenty. But in the way in which this business is now carried on, not only the whole work is a peculiar trade, but it is divided into a number of branches, of which the greater part are likewise peculiar trades. One man draws out the wire; another straights it; a third cuts it; a fourth points it; a fifth grinds it at the top for receiving the head; to make the head requires two or three distinct operations; to put it on is a peculiar business; to whiten the pins is another; it is even a trade by itself to put them into the paper; and the important business of making a pin is, in this manner, divided into about eighteen distinct operations, which, in some manufactories, are all performed by distinct hands, though in others the same man will sometimes perform two or three of them. I have seen a small manufactory of this kind, where ten men only were employed, and where some of them consequently performed two or three distinct operations. But though they were very poor, and therefore but indifferently accommodated with the necessary machinery, they could, when they exerted themselves, make among them about twelve pounds of pins in a day. There are in a pound upwards of four thousand pins of a middling size. Those ten persons, therefore, could make among them upwards of forty-eight thousand pins in a day. Each person, therefore, making a tenth part of forty-eight thousand pins, might be considered as making four thousand eight hundred pins in a day. But if they had all wrought separately and independently, and without any of them having been educated to this peculiar business, they certainly could not each of them have made twenty, perhaps not one pin in a day; that is, certainly, not the two hundred and fortieth, perhaps not the four thousand eight hundredth, part of what they are at present capable of performing, in consequence of a proper division and combination of their different operations.

Consider an example from a very small industry, where the division of labor has often been noted: pin-making. The division of labor has made pin-making a distinct trade. It has probably also led to the invention of the machinery used in it. A worker unfamiliar with the machinery and untrained in the trade might hardly make one pin a day, even with the greatest effort. He certainly could not make twenty. But as pin-making is now practiced, it is not only a distinct trade. It is also divided into several branches, most of which are distinct trades themselves. One man draws out the wire, another straightens it, a third cuts it, and a fourth sharpens the point. A fifth grinds the top so that the head can be attached. Making the head requires two or three separate operations. Attaching it is a separate job, and whitening the pins is another. Even putting the pins into paper is a trade of its own. In this way, the important business of making a pin is divided into about eighteen separate operations. In some factories, a different worker performs each operation. In others, one man sometimes performs two or three. I have seen a small pin factory that employed only ten men. Some of them therefore performed two or three separate operations. They were very poor, so they were not well supplied with the necessary machinery. Yet when they worked hard, they could make about twelve pounds of pins between them in a day. A pound contains more than four thousand medium-sized pins. Those ten men could therefore make more than forty-eight thousand pins between them in a day. Each man, making a tenth of forty-eight thousand pins, could be counted as making four thousand eight hundred pins a day. But suppose they had all worked separately and independently, without any of them having been trained in this particular trade. Then each of them certainly could not have made twenty pins a day, and perhaps not even one. That is certainly less than one two-hundred-and-fortieth, and perhaps not even one four-thousand-eight-hundredth, of what they can now produce. They can produce so much because their different operations are properly divided and combined.

In every other art and manufacture, the effects of the division of labour are similar to what they are in this very trifling one, though, in many of them, the labour can neither be so much subdivided, nor reduced to so great a simplicity of operation. The division of labour, however, so far as it can be introduced, occasions, in every art, a proportionable increase of the productive powers of labour. The separation of different trades and employments from one another, seems to have taken place in consequence of this advantage. This separation, too, is generally carried furthest in those countries which enjoy the highest degree of industry and improvement; what is the work of one man, in a rude state of society, being generally that of several in an improved one. In every improved society, the farmer is generally nothing but a farmer; the manufacturer, nothing but a manufacturer. The labour, too, which is necessary to produce any one complete manufacture, is almost always divided among a great number of hands. How many different trades are employed in each branch of the linen and woollen manufactures, from the growers of the flax and the wool, to the bleachers and smoothers of the linen, or to the dyers and dressers of the cloth! The nature of agriculture, indeed, does not admit of so many subdivisions of labour, nor of so complete a separation of one business from another, as manufactures. It is impossible to separate so entirely the business of the grazier from that of the corn-farmer, as the trade of the carpenter is commonly separated from that of the smith. The spinner is almost always a distinct person from the weaver; but the ploughman, the harrower, the sower of the seed, and the reaper of the corn, are often the same. The occasions for those different sorts of labour returning with the different seasons of the year, it is impossible that one man should be constantly employed in any one of them. This impossibility of making so complete and entire a separation of all the different branches of labour employed in agriculture, is perhaps the reason why the improvement of the productive powers of labour, in this art, does not always keep pace with their improvement in manufactures. The most opulent nations, indeed, generally excel all their neighbours in agriculture as well as in manufactures; but they are commonly more distinguished by their superiority in the latter than in the former. Their lands are in general better cultivated, and having more labour and expense bestowed upon them, produce more in proportion to the extent and natural fertility of the ground. But this superiority of produce is seldom much more than in proportion to the superiority of labour and expense. In agriculture, the labour of the rich country is not always much more productive than that of the poor; or, at least, it is never so much more productive, as it commonly is in manufactures. The corn of the rich country, therefore, will not always, in the same degree of goodness, come cheaper to market than that of the poor. The corn of Poland, in the same degree of goodness, is as cheap as that of France, notwithstanding the superior opulence and improvement of the latter country. The corn of France is, in the corn-provinces, fully as good, and in most years nearly about the same price with the corn of England, though, in opulence and improvement, France is perhaps inferior to England. The corn-lands of England, however, are better cultivated than those of France, and the corn-lands of France are said to be much better cultivated than those of Poland. But though the poor country, notwithstanding the inferiority of its cultivation, can, in some measure, rival the rich in the cheapness and goodness of its corn, it can pretend to no such competition in its manufactures, at least if those manufactures suit the soil, climate, and situation, of the rich country. The silks of France are better and cheaper than those of England, because the silk manufacture, at least under the present high duties upon the importation of raw silk, does not so well suit the climate of England as that of France. But the hardware and the coarse woollens of England are beyond all comparison superior to those of France, and much cheaper, too, in the same degree of goodness. In Poland there are said to be scarce any manufactures of any kind, a few of those coarser household manufactures excepted, without which no country can well subsist.

In every other craft and industry, the division of labor has effects similar to those in this very minor one. In many, however, the work cannot be divided as far or reduced to such simple operations. Even so, wherever the division of labor can be introduced, it brings a corresponding increase in productivity. This advantage seems to have led to the separation of trades and occupations. The separation generally goes furthest in the most industrious and advanced countries. In a less developed society, one person generally does work that several people do in an advanced one. In every advanced society, a farmer is generally nothing but a farmer, and a manufacturer nothing but a manufacturer. The work needed to make any finished product is also almost always divided among many people. How many trades work in each branch of linen and woolen manufacturing! They range from the growers of flax and wool to the bleachers and smoothers of linen, or the dyers and finishers of cloth. Agriculture, however, does not allow labor to be divided as much as manufacturing does. Nor does it allow one occupation to be separated as completely from another. It is impossible to separate livestock farming from grain farming as completely as carpentry is usually separated from metalworking. The spinner and the weaver are almost always different people. But the person who plows, harrows, sows the seed, and harvests the grain is often the same. These different kinds of work return with the seasons, so no one can be employed constantly in any one of them. This makes it impossible to separate the different branches of agricultural labor so completely. Perhaps this is why improvements in agricultural productivity do not always keep pace with improvements in manufacturing. The wealthiest nations generally excel all their neighbors in agriculture as well as in manufacturing. But their superiority is usually more striking in manufacturing. Their land is generally better cultivated, and more labor and expense are devoted to it. As a result, it produces more in proportion to its area and natural fertility. But the increase in output is seldom much greater than the increase in labor and expense. In agriculture, labor in a rich country is not always much more productive than labor in a poor one. At least, it is never as much more productive as it usually is in manufacturing. Therefore, grain of the same quality from a rich country will not always reach the market at a lower price than grain from a poor one. Polish grain is as cheap as French grain of the same quality, despite France’s greater wealth and advancement. In France’s grain-growing regions, the grain is just as good as English grain. In most years, it is also nearly the same price, though France is perhaps less wealthy and advanced than England. Yet England’s grain lands are better cultivated than France’s. France’s grain lands, in turn, are said to be much better cultivated than Poland’s. Thus a poor country, despite its less advanced cultivation, can compete to some extent with a rich one in the price and quality of its grain. But it cannot hope to compete in the same way in manufactured goods, at least when those goods suit the rich country’s soil, climate, and location. French silks are better and cheaper than English silks. Silk manufacturing does not suit England’s climate as well as France’s, at least under the current high duties on imported raw silk. But England’s hardware and coarse woolen goods are far superior to France’s. They are also much cheaper for the same quality. Poland is said to have hardly any manufacturing of any kind, except for a few coarse goods made in households. No country can easily survive without these.

This great increase in the quantity of work, which, in consequence of the division of labour, the same number of people are capable of performing, is owing to three different circumstances; first, to the increase of dexterity in every particular workman; secondly, to the saving of the time which is commonly lost in passing from one species of work to another; and, lastly, to the invention of a great number of machines which facilitate and abridge labour, and enable one man to do the work of many.

The division of labour allows the same number of people to do much more work. This increase has three causes. First, each worker becomes more skilled at a particular task. Second, workers save the time normally lost when switching from one kind of work to another. Finally, many machines have been invented that make work easier and quicker. These machines enable one person to do the work of many.

First, the improvement of the dexterity of the workmen, necessarily increases the quantity of the work he can perform; and the division of labour, by reducing every man’s business to some one simple operation, and by making this operation the sole employment of his life, necessarily increases very much the dexterity of the workman. A common smith, who, though accustomed to handle the hammer, has never been used to make nails, if, upon some particular occasion, he is obliged to attempt it, will scarce, I am assured, be able to make above two or three hundred nails in a day, and those, too, very bad ones. A smith who has been accustomed to make nails, but whose sole or principal business has not been that of a nailer, can seldom, with his utmost diligence, make more than eight hundred or a thousand nails in a day. I have seen several boys, under twenty years of age, who had never exercised any other trade but that of making nails, and who, when they exerted themselves, could make, each of them, upwards of two thousand three hundred nails in a day. The making of a nail, however, is by no means one of the simplest operations. The same person blows the bellows, stirs or mends the fire as there is occasion, heats the iron, and forges every part of the nail: in forging the head, too, he is obliged to change his tools. The different operations into which the making of a pin, or of a metal button, is subdivided, are all of them much more simple, and the dexterity of the person, of whose life it has been the sole business to perform them, is usually much greater. The rapidity with which some of the operations of those manufactures are performed, exceeds what the human hand could, by those who had never seen them, be supposed capable of acquiring.

First, greater skill necessarily increases the amount of work a worker can do. The division of labor reduces each worker’s job to one simple operation, which becomes the sole work of his life. This necessarily makes the worker much more skilled. Take an ordinary blacksmith who is used to handling a hammer but has never made nails. If he has to try making them on a particular occasion, I am told he can barely make more than two or three hundred in a day. Even those will be very poor nails. A blacksmith who is used to making nails, but for whom it is not the sole or main occupation, can seldom make more than eight hundred or a thousand in a day, even with his utmost effort. I have seen several boys under twenty who had never practiced any trade except nail making. When they exerted themselves, each could make more than two thousand three hundred nails in a day. Making a nail, however, is by no means one of the simplest operations. The same person works the bellows, tends or fixes the fire as needed, heats the iron, and forges every part of the nail. He must also change tools to forge the head. By contrast, every operation involved in making a pin or a metal button is much simpler. A person who has spent his life doing just one of those operations is usually much more skilled. Some operations in those trades are performed with such speed that anyone who had never seen them would not believe the human hand capable of it.

Secondly, the advantage which is gained by saving the time commonly lost in passing from one sort of work to another, is much greater than we should at first view be apt to imagine it. It is impossible to pass very quickly from one kind of work to another, that is carried on in a different place, and with quite different tools. A country weaver, who cultivates a small farm, must lose a good deal of time in passing from his loom to the field, and from the field to his loom. When the two trades can be carried on in the same workhouse, the loss of time is, no doubt, much less. It is, even in this case, however, very considerable. A man commonly saunters a little in turning his hand from one sort of employment to another. When he first begins the new work, he is seldom very keen and hearty; his mind, as they say, does not go to it, and for some time he rather trifles than applies to good purpose. The habit of sauntering, and of indolent careless application, which is naturally, or rather necessarily, acquired by every country workman who is obliged to change his work and his tools every half hour, and to apply his hand in twenty different ways almost every day of his life, renders him almost always slothful and lazy, and incapable of any vigorous application, even on the most pressing occasions. Independent, therefore, of his deficiency in point of dexterity, this cause alone must always reduce considerably the quantity of work which he is capable of performing.

Secondly, the time saved by not switching between different kinds of work is worth far more than we might first imagine. It is impossible to switch quickly between jobs done in different places and with entirely different tools. A country weaver who works a small farm must lose a great deal of time going between his loom and his field. When both jobs can be done in the same workshop, the time lost is certainly much less. Even then, however, it is considerable. A man usually takes his time when switching from one job to another. When he begins the new work, he is seldom very eager or energetic. His mind, as they say, is not on it, and for a while he accomplishes little instead of working purposefully. Every country worker who must change jobs and tools every half hour naturally, or rather necessarily, develops careless and idle work habits. He must also turn his hand to twenty different tasks almost every day of his life. These habits make him almost always sluggish and lazy, and unable to work vigorously even on the most urgent occasions. Apart from his lack of skill, this cause alone must always greatly reduce the amount of work he can do.

Thirdly, and lastly, everybody must be sensible how much labour is facilitated and abridged by the application of proper machinery. It is unnecessary to give any example. I shall only observe, therefore, that the invention of all those machines by which labour is so much facilitated and abridged, seems to have been originally owing to the division of labour. Men are much more likely to discover easier and readier methods of attaining any object, when the whole attention of their minds is directed towards that single object, than when it is dissipated among a great variety of things. But, in consequence of the division of labour, the whole of every man’s attention comes naturally to be directed towards some one very simple object. It is naturally to be expected, therefore, that some one or other of those who are employed in each particular branch of labour should soon find out easier and readier methods of performing their own particular work, whenever the nature of it admits of such improvement. A great part of the machines made use of in those manufactures in which labour is most subdivided, were originally the invention of common workmen, who, being each of them employed in some very simple operation, naturally turned their thoughts towards finding out easier and readier methods of performing it. Whoever has been much accustomed to visit such manufactures, must frequently have been shewn very pretty machines, which were the inventions of such workmen, in order to facilitate and quicken their own particular part of the work. In the first fire engines {this was the current designation for steam engines}, a boy was constantly employed to open and shut alternately the communication between the boiler and the cylinder, according as the piston either ascended or descended. One of those boys, who loved to play with his companions, observed that, by tying a string from the handle of the valve which opened this communication to another part of the machine, the valve would open and shut without his assistance, and leave him at liberty to divert himself with his play-fellows. One of the greatest improvements that has been made upon this machine, since it was first invented, was in this manner the discovery of a boy who wanted to save his own labour.

Third and last, everyone must recognize how much the right machinery makes work easier and reduces the labor needed. There is no need to give an example. I will only observe, therefore, that the division of labor seems to have originally led to the invention of all the machines that make work so much easier and shorter. People are much more likely to find easier and quicker ways to achieve a goal when they focus entirely on it. They are less likely to do so when their attention is spread across many different things. But the division of labor naturally directs each worker’s full attention to one very simple task. We can therefore naturally expect some workers in each particular branch of labor to soon find easier and quicker ways to do their own work, whenever the nature of the work allows such improvement. Many of the machines used in industries where labor is most divided were originally invented by ordinary workers. Each worker performed a very simple operation and naturally thought about easier and quicker ways to do it. Anyone who has often visited such workplaces must frequently have been shown ingenious machines invented by workers. The workers made them to make their own particular part of the work easier and faster. In the first fire engines {the name then used for steam engines}, a boy was constantly employed to open and close a passage between the boiler and the cylinder. He did this as the piston rose or fell. One of those boys loved to play with his companions. He noticed that he could tie a string from the handle of the valve that opened the passage to another part of the machine. The valve would then open and close without his help, leaving him free to play with his companions. In this way, a boy who wanted to save his own labor discovered one of the greatest improvements made to the machine since its invention.

All the improvements in machinery, however, have by no means been the inventions of those who had occasion to use the machines. Many improvements have been made by the ingenuity of the makers of the machines, when to make them became the business of a peculiar trade; and some by that of those who are called philosophers, or men of speculation, whose trade it is not to do any thing, but to observe every thing, and who, upon that account, are often capable of combining together the powers of the most distant and dissimilar objects in the progress of society, philosophy or speculation becomes, like every other employment, the principal or sole trade and occupation of a particular class of citizens. Like every other employment, too, it is subdivided into a great number of different branches, each of which affords occupation to a peculiar tribe or class of philosophers; and this subdivision of employment in philosophy, as well as in every other business, improves dexterity, and saves time. Each individual becomes more expert in his own peculiar branch, more work is done upon the whole, and the quantity of science is considerably increased by it.

However, not all improvements in machinery were invented by the people who used the machines. Once making machines became a specialized trade, many improvements came from the ingenuity of their makers. Others came from people called philosophers, or thinkers. Their occupation is not to do anything, but to observe everything. For this reason, they are often able to combine the powers of objects that are far apart and very different. As society develops, philosophy or speculation becomes, like every other occupation, the main or only trade of a particular class of citizens. Like every other occupation, it is divided into many branches. Each branch gives work to a particular group or class of philosophers. This division of work in philosophy, as in every other business, improves skill and saves time. Each person becomes more expert in their own branch. More work is done overall, and the amount of scientific knowledge increases considerably.

It is the great multiplication of the productions of all the different arts, in consequence of the division of labour, which occasions, in a well-governed society, that universal opulence which extends itself to the lowest ranks of the people. Every workman has a great quantity of his own work to dispose of beyond what he himself has occasion for; and every other workman being exactly in the same situation, he is enabled to exchange a great quantity of his own goods for a great quantity or, what comes to the same thing, for the price of a great quantity of theirs. He supplies them abundantly with what they have occasion for, and they accommodate him as amply with what he has occasion for, and a general plenty diffuses itself through all the different ranks of the society.

The division of labor greatly increases what all the different trades produce. In a well-governed society, this increase creates widespread wealth that reaches even the lowest ranks of society. Every worker has much more of their own work to sell than they need for themselves. Every other worker is in the same position. So each can exchange a large quantity of their own goods for a large quantity of others’ goods. Or, which amounts to the same thing, they can exchange their goods for the price of those goods. Each worker abundantly supplies others with what they need, and the others supply that worker just as abundantly. In this way, plenty spreads through all ranks of society.

Observe the accommodation of the most common artificer or daylabourer in a civilized and thriving country, and you will perceive that the number of people, of whose industry a part, though but a small part, has been employed in procuring him this accommodation, exceeds all computation. The woollen coat, for example, which covers the day-labourer, as coarse and rough as it may appear, is the produce of the joint labour of a great multitude of workmen. The shepherd, the sorter of the wool, the wool-comber or carder, the dyer, the scribbler, the spinner, the weaver, the fuller, the dresser, with many others, must all join their different arts in order to complete even this homely production. How many merchants and carriers, besides, must have been employed in transporting the materials from some of those workmen to others who often live in a very distant part of the country? How much commerce and navigation in particular, how many ship-builders, sailors, sail-makers, rope-makers, must have been employed in order to bring together the different drugs made use of by the dyer, which often come from the remotest corners of the world? What a variety of labour, too, is necessary in order to produce the tools of the meanest of those workmen! To say nothing of such complicated machines as the ship of the sailor, the mill of the fuller, or even the loom of the weaver, let us consider only what a variety of labour is requisite in order to form that very simple machine, the shears with which the shepherd clips the wool. The miner, the builder of the furnace for smelting the ore, the feller of the timber, the burner of the charcoal to be made use of in the smelting-house, the brickmaker, the bricklayer, the workmen who attend the furnace, the millwright, the forger, the smith, must all of them join their different arts in order to produce them. Were we to examine, in the same manner, all the different parts of his dress and household furniture, the coarse linen shirt which he wears next his skin, the shoes which cover his feet, the bed which he lies on, and all the different parts which compose it, the kitchen-grate at which he prepares his victuals, the coals which he makes use of for that purpose, dug from the bowels of the earth, and brought to him, perhaps, by a long sea and a long land-carriage, all the other utensils of his kitchen, all the furniture of his table, the knives and forks, the earthen or pewter plates upon which he serves up and divides his victuals, the different hands employed in preparing his bread and his beer, the glass window which lets in the heat and the light, and keeps out the wind and the rain, with all the knowledge and art requisite for preparing that beautiful and happy invention, without which these northern parts of the world could scarce have afforded a very comfortable habitation, together with the tools of all the different workmen employed in producing those different conveniencies; if we examine, I say, all these things, and consider what a variety of labour is employed about each of them, we shall be sensible that, without the assistance and co-operation of many thousands, the very meanest person in a civilized country could not be provided, even according to, what we very falsely imagine, the easy and simple manner in which he is commonly accommodated. Compared, indeed, with the more extravagant luxury of the great, his accommodation must no doubt appear extremely simple and easy; and yet it may be true, perhaps, that the accommodation of an European prince does not always so much exceed that of an industrious and frugal peasant, as the accommodation of the latter exceeds that of many an African king, the absolute masters of the lives and liberties of ten thousand naked savages.

Look at the living conditions of an ordinary craft worker or day laborer in a civilized and thriving country. You will see that countless people have contributed some small part of their labor to providing for him. Take the woolen coat that covers the day laborer. Rough and coarse as it may look, it is the product of the combined labor of many workers. The shepherd, wool sorter, wool comber or carder, dyer, scribbler, spinner, weaver, fuller, and cloth dresser must all contribute their skills. Many others must also help produce even this humble garment. How many merchants and carriers must also transport the materials between workers? These workers often live in distant parts of the country. How much trade and shipping is needed to bring together the various substances used by the dyer? They often come from the farthest corners of the world. How many shipbuilders, sailors, sailmakers, and rope makers must be employed? And what a variety of labor is needed to produce the tools of even the humblest worker! Let us set aside complicated machines such as the sailor's ship, the fuller's mill, or even the weaver's loom. Consider only how much varied labor goes into the simple shears the shepherd uses to clip the wool. Many workers must combine their skills to produce them. There is the miner, the builder of the furnace for smelting the ore, and the person who cuts the timber. There is the person who burns the timber to make charcoal for the smelting house. There are also the brickmaker, bricklayer, furnace workers, millwright, forger, and smith. We could examine every part of the laborer's clothing and household furnishings in the same way. There is the coarse linen shirt he wears next to his skin, and the shoes on his feet. There is his bed and every part that makes it up. There is the kitchen grate where he cooks his food, and the coal he uses for that purpose. The coal is dug from deep in the earth and may travel a long way by sea and land to reach him. There are all his other kitchen utensils and everything on his table. These include knives and forks, and the earthenware or pewter plates on which he serves and portions his food. There are the different workers who prepare his bread and beer. There is the glass window that lets in heat and light while keeping out wind and rain. Consider all the knowledge and skill needed to produce that beautiful and beneficial invention. Without it, these northern parts of the world could hardly have provided a very comfortable home. There are also the tools of all the workers who produce these various comforts. If we examine all these things, we can consider the variety of labor involved in each one. We will then realize that even the poorest person in a civilized country depends on the help and cooperation of many thousands. Without them, he could not be provided for in the way he usually is. We wrongly imagine that this way of living is easy to provide and simple. Compared with the extravagant luxury of the great, his living conditions must indeed seem extremely simple and easy to provide. Yet perhaps a European prince's living conditions do not always exceed those of a hardworking and frugal peasant by as much as the peasant's exceed those of many an African king. Such kings are absolute masters of the lives and liberties of ten thousand naked savages.