For, indeed, it is as a link in the development of modern economic relationships and modern conceptions of economic expediency, that the changes which we have been considering possess their greatest interest. The department of economic life in which, both for good and evil, the modern spirit comes in the sixteenth century most irresistibly to its own, is not agriculture but foreign commerce, company promoting, and the money market, where the relations of man to man are already conceived of as the necessary parts of a vast and complicated mechanism, whose iron levers thrust the individual into actions for the consequences of which he is not responsible, and under whose pressure unknown is driven by unknown to do that which he did not intend. But if the intoxication with dreams of boundless material possibilities, the divorce of economic from moral considerations, the restless experiment and initiative and contempt for restrictions that fetter them, which are the marks of that spirit’s operations, are never quite so victorious in agriculture as they are in finance, it is nevertheless in transforming agrarian conditions that its nature and characteristics are most impressively revealed, not because it is felt there first or proceeds there furthest, but because the material which it encounters is so dense, so firmly organised, so intractable, that changes, which in a more mobile environment pass unnoticed, are seen there in high relief against the stable society which they undermine. In truth the agrarian revolution is but a current in the wake of mightier movements. The new world, which is painfully rising in so many English villages, is a tiny mirror of the new world which, on a mightier stage, is ushering modern history in amid storms and convulsions. The spirit which revolts against authority, frames a science that will subdue nature to its service, and thrusts the walls of the universe asunder into space, is the same—we must not hesitate to say it—as that which on the lips of grasping landlords and stubborn peasants wrangles over the respective merits of “several” and “common,” weighs the profits of pasture in an economic scale against the profits of arable, batters down immemorial customs, and, regarding neither the honour of God nor the welfare of this realm of England, brings the livings of many into the hands of one. To the modern economist, who uses an ancient field map to trace the bewildering confusion of an open field village beneath the orderly lines of the dignified estate which lies upon it like a well written manuscript on the crabbed scrawl of a palimpsest, the wastefulness of the old régime, compared with the productiveness of the new, may well seem too obvious to leave room for any discussion of their relative advantages; and indeed the accession of material wealth which followed the first feeble approach towards the methods of modern agriculture is unquestionable. But the difference between such a standpoint and that of our peasants is not one of methods only but of objects, not of means but of ends. We can imagine that to an exposition of the advantages of large scale farming and enclosure, such as many stewards must have made to the juries of many manors, they would have answered something after this fashion:—“True, our system is wasteful, and fruitful of many small disputes. True, a large estate can be managed more economically than a small one. True, pasture-farming yields higher profits than tillage. Nevertheless, master steward, our wasteful husbandry feeds many households where your economical methods would feed few. In our ill-arranged fields and scrubby commons most families hold a share, though it be but a few roods. In our unenclosed village there are few rich, but there are few destitute, save when God sends a bad harvest, and we all starve together. We do not like your improvements which ruin half the honest men affected by them. We do not choose that the ancient customs of our village should be changed!" Such differences lie too deep to be settled by argument, whether they appear in the sixteenth century or in our own day.
APPENDIX I[ToC]
(I)
[Letter from a Bailiff, illustrating the relations between Farmer and Lord, and difficulties with Freeholders]
Merton MSS., No. 4381
Good Sir lett me intreat you yf the colledge determyne to make survay this springe of the lands at Kibworth and Barkby to send Mr. Kay or me word a month or 3 weeks before your coming that we may have Beare and other necessaries. And I desire you to gather up all evidences that may be needful for ye Lordshipp, for all testimony will be little enough, the colledge land is soo mingled with Mr. Pochin’s frehold and others in our towne. There is an awarde for the keepinge in of the old wol close in our ffields for [from?] Mr. Pochin’s occupation, very needefulle for the ynhabitants yf that awarde can be founde at the colledge where yt [was loste].
The composition betwixt Mr. Stanford and the towne wold we very gladly see, yt is for tythe willows and partinge grasse, wee thinke that they challenge more than of right they should have. I pray you gather upp what evidence you can for the rents due to the college out of [?], for when some of them are denied I know not where to distraine for them.
I pray you also give order that the evidences may be sought up for the lands lyinge in Barkby Thorpend alias Thurmaston in our parish and parcell of our lordship of the rent per ann. 3/4d. as alsoe the evidences of Peppers frehold rent per annum 1d. This rent is denied and not paidd this 20 yeares, and I cannot learne where I should distraine for the same, neither will he pay it unlesse he may knowe for what he payeth the same; he is towards the land [?], and his frehold lyeth in Thurmaston ut supra. And soe with remembrance of my duty desiringe you to pardon my breach of promise for the lease at last Michaelmas, and I hope before this yeare be ended to be as good as my worde, yf it will please you and the company to spare me with your favours untill then, ffor God is my judge I did not breake my promise wilfully nor willingly, but necessity hath noe law. I have lost this su[=m]er 6 horses and was forced to buy in these for my carte. Day [?] groweth scant, therefore I must spare to write, only hoping and desiringe your favour at this tyme I humbly take my leave and rest as I have ever beene your wops at commandment. Henry Sayer.
Barkby, February 26th, 1608.
To the wll his very singular
ffriend Mr. Brent subwarden
at Merton College in Oxon.