would diminish their value; if for food, he could scarcely subsist upon cabbage and onions all the year round.  To thoroughly work four acres would occupy his whole time, nor would the farmers care for the assistance of a man who could only come now and then in an irregular manner.  There would be no villa gardens to attend to, no ash-pits to empty, no tubs of refuse for the pig, no carpets to beat, no one who wanted rough carpentering done.  He could not pay any one to assist him in the cultivation of the plot.

And then, how about his clothes, boots and shoes, and so forth?  Suppose him with a family, where would their boots and shoes come from?  Without any wages—­that is, hard cash received weekly—­it would be next to impossible to purchase these things.  A man could hardly be condemned to a more miserable existence.  In the case of the tenant of a few acres who made a fair living near a large town, it must be remembered that he understood two trades, gardening and carpentering, and found constant employment at these, which in all probability would indeed have maintained him without any land at all.  But it is not every man who possesses technical knowledge of this kind, or who can turn his hand to several things.  Imagine a town surrounded by two or three thousand such small occupiers, let them be never so clever; where would the extra employment come from; where would be the ashpits to empty?  Where one could do well, a dozen could do nothing.  If the argument be carried still further, and we imagine the whole country so cut up and settled, the difficulty only increases, because every man living (or starving) on his own plot would be totally unable to pay another to help him, or to get employment himself.  No better method could be contrived to cause a fall in the value of labour.

The examples of France and China are continually quoted in support of subdivision.  In the case of France, let us ask whether any of our stalwart labourers would for a single week consent to live as the French peasant does?  Would they forego their white, wheaten bread, and eat rye bread in its place?  Would they take kindly to bread which contained a large proportion of meal ground from the edible chestnut?  Would they feel merry over vegetable soups?  Verily the nature of the man must change first; and we have read something about the leopard and his spots.  You cannot raise beef and mutton upon four acres and feed yourself at the same time; if you raise bacon you must sell it in order to buy clothes.

The French peasant saves by stinting, and puts aside a franc by pinching both belly and back.  He works extremely hard, and for long hours.  Our labourers can work as hard as he, but it must be in a different way; they must have plenty to eat and drink, and they do not understand little economies.

China, we are told, however, supports the largest population in the world in this manner.  Not a particle is wasted, not a square foot of land but bears something edible.  The sewage of towns is utilised, and causes crops to spring forth; every scrap of refuse manures a garden.  The Chinese have attained that ideal agriculture which puts the greatest amount into the soil, takes the greatest amount out of it, and absolutely wastes nothing.  The picture is certainly charming.