labour of four men, who must have two hundred bushels each, and the
surplus is but two hundred bushels. At twenty years' purchase this
gives a capital of four thousand bushels, or the equivalent of twenty
years' wages; whereas it has cost, in the labour of himself, his sons,
and his assistants, the equivalent of a hundred years of labour, or
perhaps far more. During all this time, however, it has fed and
clothed them all, and the farm has been produced by the insensible
contributions made from year to year, unthought of and unfelt.

It has become worth twenty years' wages, because its owner has for
years taken from it a thousand bushels annually; but when it had lain
for centuries accumulating wealth it was worth nothing. Such is the
case with the earth everywhere. The more that is taken from it the
more there is to be returned, and the greater our power to draw upon
it. When the coal-mines of England were untouched, they were
valueless. Now their value is almost countless; yet the land contains
abundant supplies for thousands of years. Iron ore, a century since,
was a drug, and leases were granted at almost nominal rents. Now, such
leases are deemed equivalent to the possession of large fortunes,
notwithstanding the great quantities that have been removed, although
the amount of ore now known to exist is probably fifty times greater
than it was then.

_The earth is the sole producer._ From her man receives the corn and
the cotton-wool, and all that he can do is to change them in their
form, or in their place. The first he may convert into bread, and the
last into cloth, and both maybe transported to distant places, but
there his power ends. He can make no addition to their quantity. A
part of his labour is applied to the preparation and improvement of
the great machine of production, and this produces changes that are