America, and journeying together in a kind of cafila, or caravan, for the sake of mutual security: when they came to a halting place for the night, they would not fail to make some kind of extemporaneous arrangement, that some should unlaid and fodder the cattle, while others should fetch firewood from the nearest thicket, and others water from the spring: some, in the meantime, would be occupied in pitching tents, or erecting sheds of boughs; others in preparing food for the whole party; while some, again, with their arms in readiness, would be posted as sentinels, in suitable spots, to watch that the rest might not be surprised by bands of robbers. It would be evident to them that but for such an arrangement each man would have to go to the spring for water, and to the wood for fuel; would have to prepare his own meal with almost as much trouble as it costs to dress food for the whole, and would have to perform all these tasks encumbered by his arms, and on the watch for a hostile attack.'

"All this would be evident to them; they would perceive, in short, the great utility of separating the different occupations required for their ease and safety. But in order that the traveller should thus apportion these different occupations among their own body, it would be necessary that they should first combine their labour by agreeing to travel together, and to help each other on the way. If each of them had travelled alone, each man's labour would have been separated or divided, not only from that of all the others, but again amongst the several occupations of going to the wood for fire, and to the spring for water, &c.: if the labour of the traveller had been so divided, there could not have been any, the slightest division of their employments. In like manner, the division of employments which takes place in a pin manufactory, results from, and is wholly dependent on, the union, generally under one roof, of all the labour by which the pins are made. Though no entire pin be made by any one person's united labour; many persons whose labour is united, in order that the whole operation in which it is to perform, may be separated into distinct parts, and easily apportioned among the workmen. It appears, therefore, not only that "division of labour" is a most improper term as commonly used; not only that this is the proper term for expressing a state of things under which what is commonly expressed by it-namely a division of employmentscannot possibly take place; but that all writers on political

economy, from Adam Smith downwards, while treating of the 'causes of improvement in the productive powers of labour,' have overlooked a principle of first rate importance.

"This principle is, that all improvement in the productive powers of labour, including division of employments, depends upon co-operation."

Wakefield, therefore, in his edition of Smith, universally substitutes division of employments for division of labour, and Mill heads his chapter, which treats of this subject, "The Combination of labour."

It must be admitted that Wakefield's criticism on the incorrectness of the expression division of labour is correct. But, nevertheless, when a term has once got a firm and general hold of the public mind, it is very rarely possible to change it; the only thing that can be done is to point out the misconception involved in it, and to fix and define it in its true meaning, Numerous examples of this will occur to every one versed in the history of science. Thus, in Mechanics the terms Centripetal and Centrifugal Force are used to mean exactly the opposite to what they were when they were first invented, owing to the erroneous mechanical conceptions of their originators. The term Division of Labour has acquired such a firm position in Economics, that we shall, in the same way, retain it; but we shall use it in the sense which Wakefield has so clearly pointed out.

54. Smith has, moreover, erred in describing the origin of this principle. He says "It is the necessary, though very slow and gradual, consequence of a certain propensity in human nature which has in view no such extensive utility, the propensity to truck, barter, and exchange one thing for another."-" As it is by treaty, by barter, and by purchase that we obtain from one another the greater part of those mutual good offices which we stand in need of, so it is this same trucking disposition which originally gives occasion to the division of labour."-" As it is the power of exchanging that gives occasion to the division of labour."

Now this doctrine, that the principle of the division of labour arises out of the principle of exchange, and therefore cannot exist without it, is fundamentally erroneous. In the Socialistic and Communistic states of society in which all exchanges are perempt1 Wealth of Nations, B. I., ch. 2, 3.

orily forbidden, and which are organised for the express purpose of abolishing all exchanges, the principle of the division of labour is as thoroughly well understood and acted upon as in Economic societies, where private property and free exchanges exist. For this principle conduces immensely to the increase of the quantity of the produce, no matter whether this produce belongs to the community in general or to each member separately. Whether this produce is to be ultimately distributed by public authority as in Socialist and Communist societies, or by the method of free exchange as in Economic societies, makes no difference: the division of labour only affects the Quantity of produce obtained, not the method of its Distribution.

When Smith also asserts that the principle of the division of labour originates in the trucking, bartering, and exchanging propensity of men, which he says is common to all men, and to no other race of animals, which seem to know neither this nor any other species of contract, he had clearly forgotten both his "humanities" and his Natural History. Several writers had not only observed the principle of division of labour among animals, but even originated the name from observing the habits of animals.

Thus Aristotle1 long ago noticed that in a hive of bees different parties devote themselves to different parts of the common work, and was the first to use the very term division of labour with reference to them.-" And they have each of them their proper work allotted to them: some bring flowers, others bring water; others, again, smooth and perfect the honeycomb."-" And they divide the work among themselves; and some work at the honey, some at the young bees, others at the bee bread and some, again, mould the comb; others bring water to the cells, and mix it with the honey; and others go to work." He also speaks of their public and private life.

So Pliny says "Thus when in favorable weather the crowd has set forth to labour, some collect the flowers with their feet, some bring water with their mouths, and drops with the tender down of their bodies. The young bees go forth to their work, and bring back their stores in obedience to orders, the older ones

work within the hive. For their duties within are divided (officia

1 Hist. Animal, 8, 14, 27, 23.

2 Nat. History, XI., 10.

divisa), some build the comb, some polish it, others fill it, others extract the food from what is brought."

And Virgil, too, as if to confute by anticipation Smith's assertion that no animals but man can enter into a contract, says 1—“ Now come, I will discuss the natural qualities which Jove himself has bestowed upon bees, I will tell for what wages they, following the Curetes' ringing noise and rattling brass, fed the King of heaven within a Cretan cave. They alone have a community of children and jointly own the houses of their city, and pass their life beneath majestic laws. They alone acknowledge a fatherland and settled home, and mindful in summer of the winter that must come, practise hard toil and for the common use store up their gains. For some look to the supply of provisions, and by settled covenants (fædere pacto) labour in the fields; part within the confines of their homes lay the tear of the narcissus, and the gluey gum from the bark of trees, to be the first foundation of the hive, next hang along the binding wax; others guide forth the grown offspring, the nation's hope: others pack close a wealth of purest honey, and with clean nectar swell wide the cells. Some there are whose lot has fallen to stand sentinels at the gates, and by turn they watch the watery clouds of heaven, or receive the loads of those that come to the hive, or in close array drive from the homestead the drones, a lazy herd. Hotly the work proceeds, and the stores of odorous honey are sweet with the smell of thyme."

It is said that the details given by the above writers are not absolutely correct, as might naturally be expected, but modern observation has shewn that bees carry their polity and division of labour much further than had been ascertained in ancient times."When bees begin to build the hive, they divide themselves into bands, one of which produces materials for the structure; another works upon these and forms them into a rough sketch of the dimensions and partitions of the cells. All this is completed by the second band, who examine and adjust the angles, remove the superfluous wax, and give the work its necessary perfection, and a third band brings provisions to the labourers who cannot leave their work. But no distribution of food is made to those whose charge in collecting propolis and pollen calls them to the field, because it is supposed they will hardly forget themselves; neither 1 Georg. IV., 149.

is any allowance made to those who begin the architecture of the cells. Their province is very troublesome, because they are obliged to level and extend, as well as cut and adjust the wax to the dimensions required; but then they soon obtain a dismission from this labour and retire to the fields to regale themselves with food, and wear off their fatigue with a more agreeable employment. Those who succeed them draw their mouth, their feet, and the extremity of their body several times over all the work, and never desist until all is polished and completed: and as they frequently need refreshments, and yet are not permitted to retire, there are waiters always attending, who serve them with provisions when they require them. The labourer who has an appetite bends down his trunk before the caterer to intimate that he has an inclination to eat, upon which the other opens his bag of honey, and pours out a few drops: these may be distinctly seen rolling through the hole of his trunk, which insensibly swells in every part the liquid flows through. When this little repast is over, the labourer returns to his work, and his body and feet repeat the same motions as before."1 And, indeed, to describe fully the various instances in which the division of labour is carried out in the apiarian 'commonwealth world require a large treatise.

The same may be observed of ants, and, indeed, some naturalists go so far as to say that the brain of the ant is the most surprising thing in creation next to the human brain." In no department of natural history is it more necessary to be aware of the proper import of the term instinct than in studying the phenomena presented by the bee; for nowhere is it more difficult to discriminate between the regular operation of implanted motives, and the result of acquired knowledge and habits. The most striking feature of their history, and the one which apparently lays the foundation for those extraordinary qualities which raise them above the level of other insects, is the disposition to social union. It may in general indeed be remarked that animals which associate together, so as to form large communities, display a higher degree of sagacity than those which lead a solitary life. This is especially observable among insects. The spider and formica leonis may exhibit particular talents, or practise particular stratagems in the pursuit and capture of their prey; but their history is limited to 1 Rennie's Insect Architecture, p. 131,