LIFE IN THE WILDS.

A WRITER of Miss MARTINEAU'S class has long been wanted : the appearance of this little volume will be considered an epoch in the history of science; and if shecontinue her efforts on the same scheme, she will prove herself one of the benefactors of her species. We have previously had occasion to speak with high praise.of one of Miss MARTINEAU'S works. Her Traditions of Palestine in- dicated a genius of a high order; there was a lofty :and vivid inia- gination, a habit of mind raised above the petty and selfish in- terests of the day, joined with a fervid eloquence and an enlight- ened piety, in that work, which immediately proclaimed its autho- ress as one of the gifted few. The mind appeared, however, to be so wholly trained to considerations of a sacred kind, that we were not prepared to find it so soon turned upon speculations which- solely concern the temporal interests of mankind. It was indeed clear, that if the authoress chose to apply her talent for the conception of Character, and her art of conducting discus- sion . dramatically, to any other branch of knowledge, she must eminently succeed—at least if her heart were in it. It unluckily .happens, that persons who are best qualified to make discoveries in science, are often least prepared to propagate them. Invention and 'conuniinication are very distinct offices of the human mind. In a new science, mcireover, like Political Economy, the inventors are rather engaged in controversy, or in settling the 'elements of their knowledge, than in the exposition of doctrines not yet univer- sally recognized. On the other hand, there is a prejudice on the part of the public, to give attention to that which is-beset With the thorns of disputation; and the way to which seems as uncertain as it is rough and unenticing. When, however, the importance of Political Economy became evident, and the truth of its great and leading principles was settled beyond a cavil, it was felt that a wide gulph existed between the professors of the science and the general mind. It had not -become a part of the ordinary informa. tion of a useful and respectable citizen; nor was it likely to be, as long as its treasures were locked up in the strong boxes of MILL and M'CuLLocn. A Catechism of Political Economy had added no charms to the subject; it had cut a dry mass into still drier shreds. The Lectures of the Professors at Oxford, by the beauty of the style, and the liberal character of their sentiments, had greatly assisted the progress of knowledge among the upper and more educated classes; but still, nothin!, was done for the People. Labour and Capital, Productive and Unproductive Indus- try, Machinery and Wages, sounded hardier in the ears of the ordinary reader than the Unknown Tongue. No one had taken the pains, or possessed the ability, to divest these. terms of their rugged and unpleasant associations : although a right understand- ing of them concerned everybody, and though "the particulars of which these terms are only the general .formulm, are of every day's experience, it had not been yet made apparent, or at least familiar, that the science was not only simple in its elements but more especially easy of apprehension to persons not qualified by education to make so rapid a progress in other branches of ac- quirement. Miss MARTINEAU has combined, in her Life in the Wilds, a portion of the interest of Robinson Crusoe with a huge cantle of the wisdom of ADAM SMITH- in his Wealth of Nations. In the history of a small colony of settlers in a distant station of South Africa, who have just been deprived of every vestige of capital by an incursion of destroying savages, and who are too far removed from any settlement to repair their losses under a considerable lapse of time, she has exhibited the situation of civilized beings who have to provide for their own subsistence and protection, by the means of the labour of the hands alone, and by an enlightened application of the resources of nature. The circumstances of the case enable the authoress to exemplify the nature and uses of labour uncombined with capital; and the interest she conveys by the vivid pictures of the condition of these people, and the ability with which she has thrown out the various characters of individuals and painted numerous incidents, add the instruction of a lecture to the entertainment of a romance.

-But we must exemplify ; premising that our extracts, consisting of passages necessarily taken from the didactic portions of the work, lose much of their interest by being separated from the occasion which produces them. The first extract is preliminary; being the report of the discussion that takes place among the settlers, the morning after the night of their desolation, and the resolutions they form for immediate objects.

When this was over and a pause had succeeded, the Captain observed that the first consideration of every man among them must be to secure food and shelter, —food for the present day, and shelter for perhaps one night only ; for the next question was, whether they should remain in the settlement, and build up its ruins as well as they could, or set out southwards, with the Lope of finding a safer resting-Place' or aid from their countrymen. In the first place, then he must declare his hope that every individual would lay aside all selfish thoughts, and come forward to say what provisions remained in his hands or upon his por- tion of ground.

Mr. Stone offered an antelope which had been snared the day before, and fastened within an enclosure which the savages had not entered. He feared that but little was left of his first crop of fruit, and that the next would not be ripe Inflow weeks; but said, that whatever remained should be carried to any ap-_

pointed spot. Campbell, the herdsman, said he had not a beast left of all the flocks he had the charge of; but he would venture to follow On the track of the

savages for a few miles, and if a stray ox or sheep be left behind, it should be in the camp before nightfall. :Upon this two or three men offered to go out hunting, if weapons were furnished ; and others proposed fishing, if they had but tackle.

" This is all very well," said the Captain; wile; suspected thaC neither wea- pons nor tackle were to be had ; " but our object is to find out what food is as • tually in our possession." Alas ! this was soon made out. There was only Mr. Stone's . antelope, a • few oranges, grapes,-and figs ; some eggs which were foluid near the roosts- and some fowls which began to appear again after having been scared away by the fires. This was all the provision that could be 'collected for fifty4iur persons.

" It is clear, then," said the Captain, " that the greater number of us must

disperse in search of food, and that all considerations of removal must be defer- red till to-Morrow at least. We are in no condition to travel'this day. But our night's shelter must also be thought of. Let any one speak who has a plan to propose."

Here again there was a pause ; for every one was wishing that poor Williams, the carpenter, was among them. At length, Robertson, a flamer, said- " If we could find up tools enough, we might have a sort of roof over our

heads before night; for I believe there are several here who have been used, like myself; to handle a hatchet, though not as a regular business, like poor Wil- liams, who is gone. But if we cannot have tools I see nothing for it but to sleep under the open sky. It is damp in the woods ; and besides, the beasts would couch in our neighbourhood, and the Women and children would not sleep for their roaring, even supposing we men could." The nights are frosty," said Mr. Stone • " it is dangerous to slip =shel- tered shel- tered after such hot days. Who has a hatchet to produce ?"

Not one was forthcoming, and each looked at his neighbour in dismay..

A labourer then proposed that a party of two or three should explore the- pass of the mountains to the east, and see whether there Were caves, or any places in the rock which might be covered in with boughs and rushes so us to make 'a COI, • venient sleeping-place. " Excellent !", cried the Captain. " And lest this plan should fail us, let another company go into the wood, and try whether we cannot get possession of sonic stout branches, though we have no tools. Some must have snapped in the wind last week, I should think ; and so dry as the weather has been for many weeks, some will yield to force, if we put our strength into our hands. We must remember that our hands are our tools to-day, and we must ply them well."

" I do not see," said Mr. Stone, " Why the weakest should be idle. Cannot the children pluck dry grass aud brushwood to make fires round our sleeping- place?"

" My child shall do her part," said Mrs. Stone. " She shall look for eggs about the roost ; and some of the boys and I will gather the fruit and cook the antelope, and whatever game may be brought in." " And I," said her husband, " will see that the bodies of those we have lost are buried without delay, and with proper respect. Let the mourners of their families follow me."

When Mr. Stone and about eight of the company had retired, the Captain proceeded to appoint to the others their various tasks. His office of superinten- dent was enough for him. His advice and help were wanted every moment ; font was no easy matter to perform tasks, all the materials for which were wanting.

First of all, Campbell, the herdsman, was sent with two of Robertson's la- bourers to tidlow the Bushmen, and pick up any straw lamb or wearied beast which might have been left behind. They lookea round wistfully for a noose, thinking that they might snare an antelope by the way • but not a thread of cordage was left. They were obliged to be content with a stout cudgel each, which they took from the trees as they passed. Jack, the tanner's man, set off with two companions up the pass in search of a sleeping-place ; while his master, who was accustomed to go into the woods to obtain bark for tanning, guided a party of labourers to a tree of remarkably hard and tough wood Which he had barked and stripped of its branches, of which he thought tools of a rude kind might be made. It occurred to him also, that the want of ropes Might be supplied by thongs of leather tanned and prepared according to the manner of the natives ; and he wished, therefore, to proceed upon the antelope's skin without delay. So his object was to obtain hard wood to make a rude sort of tools and bark for tanning. Hill, the barber-Surgeon, had explored the whole neighbourhood in search of herbs for his medical purposes ; and he told of a pad of remarkably fine water, about two miles off, which abounded with carp. They had only to pass a net through the water, he said, and they would soon catch enough to feed their company. This might be true, but where was the net? Hill could not furnish • one but he could tell how one might be obtained within a 'short time. He could show where flax grew in abundance ; and if two or three clever pairs of hands would help him, -the fibres might be dried and pulled out and twisted and woven into a net, and in three days they might have a plentiful meal of fish. Hill's wife and her sister Kate, and the three children, went with him about this business.

"If they had but left us our dog:," said Arnall, one of the partners of the • store or shop where all the commodities of the settlement were exchanged, and . a great sportsman,—" if they had but left us our dogs, we might have started game in abundance."

"And much use it would be of to us," replied his partner, Mr. Dunn, "when we have no guns to bring it down." " I shot a partridge without a gun, the other day," said George Prest, the butcher's son. " Mr. Arnall laughed at my bow midarrows then; but perhaps he would like such an one now very well." "If you will bring me such an one to-morrow, my boy," said Arnall, "you shall have the first bird I bring down." "I am afraid your arrows are not strong enough to kill a hare," said Dunn. "If you help me to a hare, you shall have her skin to make a cap of for your bare head."

"If your dogs will run me down a porcupine," said the boy, "you shall have your hare and her skin into the bargain. A hedgehog's 'bristles are strong enough to wound apartridge, but nothing less than a porcupine quill will reach larger game." So saying, George ran off to beg a string of the gut of the antelope from Mrs. Stone, and to find a suitable .slip,of wood for a bow, and some lighter pieces for arrows, with tufts of the soft hair of the antelope, which must serve in- stead of feathers till a bird could be • brought down. Meanwhile, Amon climbed a hill, and whistled shrill and long for his clogs,—one of which at length put up his appearance, limping and wearied. • Jowler had, however, i

sport enough n him to turn out a hedgehog, which was immediately killed, stripped of its bristles,, and put away to be cooked the next day, after the man- ner of the natives, if better food should fall short. - The leader of the party and the schoolmaster, at the close of the first day of arduous and anxious labour-and preparation, are sitting over the fire lighted at the mouth of the cave where the little com- munity has found shelter, to keep off. the wild beasts ; when they fall into the following conversation, appropriate to their situation.

" Well, my friend," said the Captain to Mr. Stone, as they sat watching their fire, " how do you feel at the close of this strange day ?" " Very much as if I were in a dream. When I look round this place and think of all that I have seen and done since morning, I can scarcely believe that we are the same people, living in the same age of the world, as yesterday. We seem to have gone back in the course of a night from a state of advanced civiliz- ation to a primitive condition of society. " Except," interrupted his Mead, " that the intelligence belonging to a state of advancement remains."

" True," replied Mr. Stone ; " and it is this which makesthe present too good an opportunity to be lost of observing what the real wealth of society consists of, and what the unassisted labour of man can do towards producing that wealth." " I wish," said the Captain, "that the people in England, who think that wealth consists in gold, and silver, and bank-notes, would come here, and see how much their money is worth in our settlement. A thousand sovereigns would not here buy a hat, nor a roll of bank-notes a loaf of bread. Here, at least, money is not wealth." " Nor anywhere else," said Mr. Stone, "as we may see by putting a very simple case. Put a man with a bag of gold into an empty house, in England, i or anywhere else, and he will starve in a week, unless he s allowed to give his gold in exchange for what will supply his wants. But give a man who has not a shilling a room well 'stocked with meat, and bread, and beer, and he has wealth enough to maintain him for a week or a fortnight, or as long as his pro- vision lasts. And this is a test which holds good all the world over." " And yet gold and silver may be called riches," said the Captain, " while they procure us things of greater value than themselves." " Certainly : they are, as long as they can be made use of, a part of wealth, though only one, and that not the greatest part. Wealth is made up of many things—olland, of houses, of clothes furniture, food, and of the means (whe- ther gold and silver or any thing else) by which these things may be obtained. Whatever lives, or grows, or can be produced, that is necessary, or useful, or agreeable to mankind, is wealth." ' Then our settlement," said the Captain, "is not stripped of all its property. We have some wealth left."

" Poor as we are," said his friend, "we are richer than if we were in the midst of the sandy desert to the north of us, with a waggon full of gold in our possession. We have here what gold could not buy in such a place, food and shelter."

"And other things too," said the Captain. "We have clothing, for flax grows in the woods, and there are plenty of animals within reach whose skins can be dried and cleaned to make us cloaks or beds, or tanned for shoes and caps f d aprons for our workmen. We have furniture, for there is plenty of timber in the woods to make tables and chairs. We have—"

" Stay," interrupted his friend, "you are getting on too fast. All these things are likely to become ours, I grant you ; but before we can call them our owm—before they become wealth to us, something must be added which we have not yet taken into consideration. You forget that there is no wealth without labour ; and labour must be applied before the commonest productions can become wealth."

" True," replied the Captain. " The flax must be gathered, and dried, and hackled, and woven, before it will make a shirt; and the animals must be caught, and a great deal of labour be spent upon their skins, before they become fit for clothing or bedding ; and the timber must be felled and sawn, and the pieces put skilfully together, before we possess it in the form of tables and chairs. But surely the case is different with food, of some kinds at least. There is fish in the pond, and fruit on the tree, ready made for man's use. Man spends no labour on the fruit that grows wild in such a climate as this ; and yet we daily foul that it is wealth to us."

"I beg your pardon," said Mr. Stone. " There is the labour of gathering St. • An orange is of no use to any man living unless he puts out his hand to pluck it. And as for the fish in the pond,—think of the carp that Hill told us of this morning. They are no wealth to us till we can catch them, though the pool is within reach, and they belong to nobody else." "We should have had them by this time if we had but got a net," said the Captain.• ' The net is one thing wanting, certainly," said his friend ; "but labour is another. If the net were now lying ready on the bank, we should be no better for the fish, unless some one took the trouble of drawing them out of the water. I do not say that unassisted labour will furnish us with all that we want ; but I do say that nothing can be had without the exertion of getting it ; that is, that there is no wealth without labour."

"True," said the Captain. "Even the manna in the wilderness would have been of no more use to the Hebrews than the carp in the pool to us, if they had not exerted themselves to gather it up. Food was never yet rained into the mouth of any man." "And if it had been," said Mr. Stone, "he must have troubled himself to hold back his head and open his mouth. So you see what conclusion we come to, even in an extreme case."

"But with all our labour," said the Captain, "how little we can do in com- parison with what is done for us ! Labour may be necessary to make the pro- ductions of nature useful to us ; but how much greater are the powers of nature in preparing them for us ! To look back no further than to-day,—the antelope tould not have been food for us unless human hands had prepared it ; but how much was done beforehand ! It was nourished, we know not how, by the grass it fed upon ; it was made, we know not how, fit food for our bodies ; and our bodies were so formed as to be strengthened by this food. Neither do we un- derstand how fire acts upon the flesh so as to make it tender; or even how wood in its turn nourishes the fire. All that human labour has done was to bring to- gether the wood, and the fire, and the animal, and then to eat the food prepared. Nature did the rest."

On another occasion, it becomes necessary to show that an un- productive labourer is in himself as essential to the interests of the community as a productive one, and that comparative utility depends on the demands of the society.

While the little party were thus busily employed and sociably conversing, they saw Arnall at a distance, practising shooting with bow and arrow at a mark.

"I wonder at the Captain," said Hill, "for calling that gentleman yonder a labourer, as he did the other day." " Arnall himself was surprised," said Mr. Stone ; "and I do not wonder at it: but I should have expected you would allow him the title. Remember the Captain spoke of him as he had been —a shopkeeper." "He led a pretty genteel life as a shopkeeper, replied Hill. "Look at his delicate hands and his slight make, and it seems ridiculous to call him a la- bourer."

"Did he not buy his goods at Cape Town, and have them brought in his waggon ; and did be not purchase various productions of his neighbours in large quantities and sell them by retail?" asked Mr. Stone. - "Certainly," replied Hill ; "but there was no hard work in all this. It would have done him good to have driven his own team over the mountains, and to have stuck fast among the rocks, as many a waggoner does, unless he can put his own shoulder to the wheel." " I should have liked to see him kill his own meat," added the butcher's wife, " or thresh the corn he used to sell. A heavy flail would be a fine thing to put into hands like his."

4 We are not inquiring," replied Mr. Stone, " what sort of discipline would be good for such a man ; but whether he can properly be called a labourer. You seem to think, Hill, that there is no labour but that of the hands, and that even that does not deserve the name unless it be rough and require bodily strength to a great degree."

" I don't mean to say so," replied Hill. " I consider that I work pretty hard, and yet my hands show it more by being dyed with these plants than roughened by toil. And there are the straw-platters of inv native town in dear old England ;—the Dunstable folks labour hard enough, aelicate as their work is."

" And you, Sir," said Mrs. Prest, the butcher's wife, " have done so much, setting aside your farm, that it would be a sin to say you have not toiled night and day for us. If there was a person sick or unhappy, or if your advice was wanted any hour in the twenty-four, you were always ready to help us. But you would not call yourself a labourer, would you?" " Certainly," replied Mr. Stone. " There is labour of the head as well as of the hands, you know. Any man who does any thing is a labourer, as far as his exertion goes."

" The King of England is a labourer," said Mrs. Stone. " If he does no- thing more than sign the acts of Pailiament which are brought to him, he does a very great thing for society. Those acts cannot become law till they are so signed ; and the man, whoever he be, who performs a necessary part in making laws, is a labourer of a very high order, however little trouble the act of signing may cost him."

" Arndt did take more trouble than that, to do him justice," said Hill. " He kept his books very well, besides purchasing and looking after and selling goods : but still I cannot think he was so useful a man as the ploughman who helps us to food ; for food is the most necessary of all things." " A great deal of harm has been dime," said Mr. Stone, " by that notion of yours when it has been held by people who have more power to act upon it than you. In many states, it has been a received maxim that commercial labour is inferior in value to agricultural; and agricultural has therefore been favoured with many privileges, and manufactures and commerce burdened with many difficulties. This seems to me to be a very unjust and foolish policy ; for the greatest good of society cannot be attained without the union of both kinds of labour. The thresher, and the miller, and the baker, do not help to produce food like the ploughman ; but they are quite as useful as lie, because we could not have bread without their help. They are manuflicturers, awl the retail baker is engaged in commerce ; but it would be absurd to say that they are on that account to be thought less valuable than the sower." " But is not the case different, Sir," said Hill, " when things of less import- ance than food are in question. Is not a weaver worth less than a ploughman in society ?"

" Suppoirea" said Mr. Stone, " that in our society, consisting of fifty-four persons; fifty-three were engaged in tilling the ground every day and all day long, and that the other was able to prepare flax and weave it into cloth and make it into clothes. Suppose you were that one ; do not you think you would

al ways have your hands full of business, and be looked to a important person; a very person; and 'that, if you died, you would be more missed than any one of the fifty-three ploughmen ?" " Certainly," said Hill, laughing. " But what a folly it would be to raise ten or twenty times as much corn as we could eat, and tube in want of every thing else !"

" It would," replied Mr. Stone : "and in such a case, we should he ready to pass a :cite of thanks to any man who would leave the plough and turn tan- ner or weaver; and then we would spare another to be a tailor; and, at last, when we had got a good many comforts about us, we would thank another to set up a shop where we might exchange our goods. Now, would it not be un- grateful and foolish, when we had reached this point, to say that the farmers were, after all, the most valuable to us ; and that they must have particular ho- nour and particular privileges?"

" To be sure," said Hill. "Time natural consequence of such partiality would be to tempt the shopkeeper to give up his shop, and the weaver his loom, and the tailor his shears, to go back to the plough ; and then we should be as badly off as before." " This would be the consequence in larger states as well," said Mr. Stone, "if the practice of the people were not wiser than the principles of the policy by which they have hitherto been governed. People buy clothes and furniture and other comforts as they have need of them, without stopping to pronounce how much less valuable they are than food." "All the world seems to have agreed," said Mrs. Stone, "that the right leg is worth more than the left; and if a man had the choice which he would lose, he would probably rather part with the left : but it would be a sad waste of time to argue about which is the more useful in walking." "All labour, then, should be equally respected," said Hill, "and no one kind should be set above another."

" Nay, I was far from saying that," replied Mr. Stone. "Our friend George, there, makes beautiful little boats out of walnut-shells, and he must have spent a good deal of trouble on his art before he could carve the prow and stern, and put in the deck as he does. If he were now to set to work and make us each one within a week, he would no more have earned his dinner every day than if he should lie down and sleep for seven days. We do not want walnut-shell boats, and his ill-directed labour would be worth no more than no labour at all."

" The Captain was telling me, though," said George, "that if I were at some place he mentioned in England, I might get a very pretty living by those same boats. He said the quality would give me five shillings a piece for them." "Very likely," said Mr. Stone : "and in that case your labour would not be ill-directed. The rich, in any country, who have as much as they want of food and clothes and shelter, have a right to pay money for baubles, if they choose ; and in such a state of things there are always labourers who, not being wanted for necessary occupations, are ready to employ their Labour in making luxuries." "The lace-makers, and jewellers, and glass-cutters, and even those who spin glass for the amusement of the wealthy, are respectably employed in England, where there is a demand for their services," observed Mrs. Stone : "but they . would be sadly out of place here, and very ridiculous. All labour must be directed by the circumstances of the state or society in which it is employed ; and all labour so regulated is equally respectable." "lam afraid, Madam," said Hill, "that your doctrine would go far towards doing away the difference between labour that is productive and that which is unproductive."

It is impossible," replied Mr. Stone, "to do away that diff ' erence because it

is a difference of fact Which no opinions can alter. It must always be as clear as observation can make it whether a man's labour produces any of the things which constitute wealth. But the respectability of labour does not depend on this circumstance. I hope you do not think it does ? "

"I have been accustomed, certainly, to think productive labourers more valu- able than unproductive."

"It depends upon what you mean by the word valuable," replied Mr. Stone. "If you mean that productive labourers add more to the wealth of the society, the very way of putting the question shows that you are right: but we may see, ductive labourers. Everybody worked very hard." ine in mind of what our ladies are doing.

" However hard our people worked," said Mr. Stone, " they were divided " What is that ?"

• shooting—" pine's quill—her new needle—aud the threads of flax more handily than they; Then he went on with his list. " And what becomes of them ? "

• Mr. Hill. You make medicines ; but when you give your advice, or bleed in him to have some pretty wild flower in his hat or his breast when he came your patients, or shave my father on Saturday night, you are an unproductive again."

Stone. At which, Hill rose and bowed low. he is the first man in the settlement who Ine;had a straw hat ? '

" I am afraid my father is an unproductive labourer," said George. "I can- " I did. Well : who undertakes the cooking ? "

" And how do you class yourself, my dear ?" said Mrs. Stone. companions than if each-had to do all the offices of one household."

say in which capacity I am most useful." state of things will change."

is thus pleasantly illustrated. who do not require to be fed and taken care of."

Before they slept, the Captain and Mr. Stone had a consultation on a matter " You mean mathines."

of increasing importance. "I mean, in the first place, the tools which will soon be on their way from " 1 am afraid,' said the Captain, " we are on a wrong plan. Indeed, I hope Cape Town, and which will be our simple machinery : and, in the next place, to find we are, for unless some change can be made in our mode of operation, I the more complicated machinery which those tools will make. When we get shall be quite at a loss to know what answer to make to all the entreaties for help such a fund of labour as this at our command, we may begin to indulge in the in the works we have in hand. Our people seem to think I can command labour luxury of having every thing within our houses done for us by those we love

to any extent." best, and according to our own fancy. Our society must be much richer, one " All governors," said Mr. Stone, " are supposed to have boundless resources, and all, than now, before I think of having one of my wife's Dorsetshire pies, and are doomed to disappoint their subjects. You only pay the regular tax for made by her own neat hands, and baked in an oven of our own." your dignity. But do you think there is a proper economy of labour in our " There must be an extensive division of labour," said the Captain, "before

society ?" even that single dish can be prepared. To saf. nothing of what has already been too many undertakings at once for our number of hands." work remaining in reaping, threshing, and grinding, before you can have the " It has occurred to me," said Mr. Stone, " that we should get on faster by flour. Then the meat for your pie is still grazing, and must be brought home putting all our strength into one task at a time, than by having a dozen at once and slaughtered and cut up. Then the salt must be got from the lake yonder, on hand with little prospect of finishing them. Look how poor Harrison frets and the pepper,—what Intl you do for pepper?"

time the rains come on." the boxes in which it is packed, the ship in which it is conveyed, the waggon The Captain here interrupted him with an account of what had passed in the which brings it from Cape Town ; all these things are necessary to afford us

morning; -and it was agreed that building should now be the first object. pepper for our plainest pies." " I could not help thinking," said Mr. Stone, " that the women and children " And how much more would a plum-pudding cost? The flour and the set us a good example as to the wisdom of saving labour, when they laid their butter may be had near home; but the sugar must be brought from one country, own little plans for doing their appointed tasks. Have you observed the boys and the raisins from another, and the spice from a third, and the brandy from a making their bows and arrows and other weapons?" fourth. There could be no plum-puddings without such a division of labour as "I saw by the number they made, that they must be proceeding on a good it almost confitses one to think of.' plan. What was it?" "No, indeed ; for we must consider, moreover, the labour which has been "The first day," said Mr. Stone, "they sat down, each by himself, under a spent in providing the means of producing and conveying the things which make tree, to cut his piece of wood the right length and thickness for his bow. It a plum-pudding. Think of the toil of preparing the vineyards where the rai- was weary work with any tool but the hatchet, which was lent them while it sins grow • of the smith and the carpenter who made the press where the grapes was not wanted for other purposes. There was but one hatchet among three, are prepar'ed ; and of the miner, the smelter, the founder, the furnace-builder, after all; so while Joe used it, little Tommy stood by waiting. He would not the bricklayer, and others who helped to make their tools ; and the feller of wood, go to seek reeds for arrows, like John, because he expected every moment that the grower of hemp, the rope-makers the sail-makers the ship-builders, the he might have the hatchet ; so there he stood, with the wood in his hand, wink- sailors who must do their part towards bringing the fruit to our shores. And

ing at every stroke of the hatchet, and looking disappointed as oftenas Joe shook then—" . his head and began again. At last, he got possession of it; but he was very "Nay, stop," said the Captain, laughing; "you have said quite enough to ch

awkward, and first opped his wood too short, and then staved it too thin; show that it would cost more than the toil of a man's whole life to snake a plum- and by the time he had spoiled one piece, John came up and wanted the tool. pudding without the division of labour, which renders it so easy a matter to 'Presently,' said Tommy; and in his hurry, he split the next piece all the wit/ any cook in England. I have heard it said that the breakfast of an English up, so that it was fit for nothing. Then he lost 'his patience, and cried out, ' washerwoman has cost the labour of many hundred hands, and I believe it. If wish you would look and see what Joe is doing, instead of staring at me in that we think of nothing but the tea and the sugar, we may fairly say this; for the

manner.' So John turned to observe his friend Joe." one comes from the East Indies and the other from the West, and innumerable

" He was getting on little better than Tommy. The next thing to be done lug them to the table of an English kitchen. Our countrymen httle think how was to twist the gut for the bowstring—an easy task enough : but Joe's hand much the poorest of them owes to .this grand principle of the division of labour." shook so with using the hatehet, that he could scarcely fasten the ends ready to "They little think," added Mr. Stone' "how many kings and. princes of twist. Besides this, it was all uneven and knotty, and not fit to be used at last. countries less favoured than theirs would be glad to exchange thew heaps of 'Dear me,' said Tommy, coming to see, while he fanned himself with his e7ip silver and gold for the accommodation of an English day-labourer. Many a so- and took 'breath, 'I can twist a bowstring better than that any day.' 'Well, , vereign who covers himself and his courtiers with jewels, or who has absolute then,' said Joe, 'I wish you would do my job for me, and I will do yours for power over the lives and liberties of a million of people, could not, if he would, you. 'And while your hand. is in,' said John, 'you may as well do mine too, have any thing better than a mat or a skin to sleep on: he could not, if he would, and I will make your arrows ,_• for that is a sort of work I am accustomed to.'" have any thing better than a wooden trencher to eat Off, or the shell of a largo

"'Indeed they found it so; for instead of wounding themselves and spoiling of his kingdom in vain for any thing so good as a plum-pudding, or a Dorset- their materials, and losing time by going from one kind of work to another, shire pie, or a breakfast of tea and toast. And all this, because he and his people they each did what he could do best, and thus made a great saving of time and know nothing about the division. of labour."

labour. The three bows were finished so soon, that the little lads were inclined "Well," said the Captain, "we arenotat a condition tootteasnd toast yet ; . in the case of every civilized state, that a mixture of productive and unproduc- to make more to change away for something the-Y Wished for ' • and: they Nave

tive labourers is the best for the comfort and prospentv of society." set up a regular manufactory under the great oak. There is ablock for Joe to "What would the English nation.do," said Mrs. S ' ione " without household chop upon ; and a hook for 'Tommy to fasten his bow-strings to ; and a sharp servants, without physicians and soldiers, and clergy and lawyers, without a flint fixed into a chink, for John to point and barb his reeds with."

parliament, without a government ? If they were a nation of farmers and " So with them the division of labour has led to the invention of machinery,". graziers and builders, without any unproductive labourers, they would have said the Captain. abundance of corn and cattle and houses ; but no towns, no commerce, no law, " A certain consequence," replied his friend. " Men, women, and children,

and no king. They would be a savage nation." are never so apt at devising ways of easing their toils as when they are confined " Ours was not a savage settlement," said George, " and we had no Impro- to one sort oflabour, and have to give their attention wholly to it. That puts

into productive and unproductive labourers, as the people of every civilized '4 They have divided their labours according to their talents or habits, and society are. If you will just run over a few names, we will try to divide the two daily find the advantages of such a plan. My wife was telling me how little she

classes." could get done while she had to turn from her cooking to her sewing, and front "Let us begin with the lowest," said George. " The labourers on Robert- her sewing to take charge of the children when they strayed into the wood." son's farm and on yours, Sir, are productive labourers, because they produce corn " It was a new sort of sewing and a new sort of cooking," said the Captain; for ourselves, and hay for the horses, and flax for our clothes. 'Then there are " and I dare say it was some time before she got her hand In, as we say." the other servants who have wages paid them,—the Captain's errand-boy, and " To be sure; and it is clear that if each pet•son had only one new method to your maid, Ma'ani, who nurses the child, and kept the house clean when you practise, and was not disturbed when onee her haud was in, the work of every had one ; and Goody Fulton, who attended to Arnall's shop when he was out kind would go on fa:ter. My wife's neighbours found that she used the porcu- " Well : go on," said Mr. Stone ; " tell us what they produced." so they offered to do her other work, if she would mend their own am! their George laid down his bow to consider ; but he conla not think of any thing husbands' clothes. She was very willing, becauseshe could thus keep our little produced by these last-mentioned people. He owned that, however industrious girl always beside her. The child is too young, you know, to play in the wood and useful they might be, domestic servauts were unproductive labourers. with the others."

" Fulton' I suppose, Sir, produces leather out of what was only the hide of " Kate goes with them to take care of them ; and while she watches their a beast ; and Harrison snakes bricks out of what was only clay ; and Links,— play, she plats dry grass to make hats for us all. She is a neat and (pick hand let me see, what does the farrier do ? He puts on horse-shoes : that is not at fits, tool it is a work which can be done as she goes from place to place. By making any thing. He is unproductive, I suppose." the time the SIM shines out again after the rains, there will be a large light straw " As a farrier ; but he is also a smith, and snakes horse-shoes and nails, and hat for each labourer—a very good thing in such a climate.

implements of many sorts, out of what was only a lump or a bar of iron." " I wondered," said the Captain, " what made Robertson steal away into the " Then he is a labourer of both kinds. That is curious. And so are you, wood so often, so steady a workman as lie is ; and I thought it was a new fancy labourer." " I dare say the lovers do not turn off less work on the whole," said Mr. " And at the same time, one of the last men we could spare," said Mr. Stone, " for these few moments' chat during the day. Did you not observe that

not think of any thing that a butcher snakes." " Mrs. Prest ' • whose ho-band helps her with the management of the oven " Why should you say ' afraid ? ' " inquired Mr. Stone. " Your father is of and the more laborious parts of her business. Then little Betsy and her mother the same class with the Captain." are our housemaids. They stay behind when we leave the cave in the morning, 44 Why, that's true," cried George • "and there's an end to all objections to and sweep it out and strew fresh rushes, and pile the wood for the night fire. unproductive labour: for who workslarder than the Captain, and how should And between this division of labour and the little contrivances to which It gives

we get on without him ? " occasion, we are certainly better waited on and taken care of by our wives and

" Unproductive in my pulpit and in the school-room," replied her husband, " True : and as long as we cannot have the comfort of a private home to each " and productive when I ant working in my field. I leave it to my friends to family, such a division is wise in every way. But it will not be long before the 4' You have cleared tip the matter completely, Sir," said Hill. " We see " Even then," said Mr. Stone, " it will be desirable to continue the same now that the words relate to wealth and not to usefulness. I am only sorry I plan till labour becomesless precious than it will be to us for months to come. ever understood any reproach by the word unproductire ; but I shall never tall When each family has a house, let each family eat in private ; but why should into the mistake again. ' not the cooking go on as at present? There will soon be baking to do in addi- The subject of the next quotation is the division of labour ; which tion and an increase of labour in proportion to our increased means of comfort: so that we must spare labour to the utmost till we can get a stock of labourers

" That is what I want to consult you about. I think not. I think we have done in our fields in fencing, ploughing, sowing, and trenching, there is much.

over his building, and well he may. 'The weather is beginning to change, and " The pepper must come from over the sea ; and only think of all the labour - instead of having three sheds, I doubt whether we shall have one finished by the that will cost ; the trouble of those who grow and prepare it in another land, " And what was Joe doing ? " are the hands which have been engaged in growing and preparing and convey- "A good bargain," observed the Captain, nut to drink out of: and as to what he eats and drinks, he might give the wealtla. '131i-Cire Will try to-morrow whit a -division of labour will do towards rearing a house over our heads" "And next," said Mr. Stone, "in .getting some earthenware utensils. I see Harrison is in r. hurry to begin his pottery. 1 tell him that we can eat off wooden trenchers for a while; but I believe we shall be glad to have a better draught than we can fetch with the palms of our hands."

Life in the Wilds only forms Number I. of Miss MARTINE AU'S Illustrations of Political Economy. The next Number will be published in a month or two : it is to be called the Hill and the Valley ; and will, we believe, illustrate the operation and increase of Capital. The volumes are small, and are sold at a low price. They ought to be universally circulated ; arid every philanthropist who may contribute to their srreading, may rely upon being en- gaged in a task of unmixed good.