t is so much
to be desired. Depression in agriculture has not materially
diminished the sum given to a particular labourer, but it has most
materially diminished the sum distributed among the numbers. One of
the remarkable features of agricultural difficulties is, indeed,
that the quotation of wages is nominally the same as in the past
years of plenty. But then not nearly so many receive them. The
father of the family gets his weekly money the same now as ten years
since. At that date his sons found work at home. At the present date
they have to move on. Some farmer is likely to exclaim, 'How can
this be, when I cannot get enough men when I want them?' Exactly so,
but the question is not when you want _them_, but when they want
you. You cannot employ them, as of old, all the year round,
therefore they migrate, or move to and fro, and at harvest time may
be the other side of the county.

The general aspect of country life was changing fast enough before
the depression came. Since then it has continued to alter at an
increasing rate--a rate accelerated by education; for I think
education increases the struggle for more wages. As a man grows in
social stature so he feels the want of little things which it is
impossible to enumerate, but which in the aggregate represent a
considerable sum. Knowledge adds to a man's social stature, and he
immediately becomes desirous of innumerable trifles which, in
ancient days, would have been deemed luxuries, but which now seem
very commonplace. He wants somewhat more fashionable clothes, and I
use the word fashion in association with the ploughman purposely,
for he and his children do follow the fashion now in as far as they
can, once a week at least. He wants a newspaper--only a penny a
week, but a penny is a penny. He thinks of an excursion like the
artisan in towns. He wants his boots to shine as workmen's boots
shine in towns, and must buy blacking. Very likely you laugh at the
fancy of shoe-blacking having anything to do with the farm labourer
and agriculture. But I can assure you it means a good deal. He is no
longer satisfied with the grease his forefathers applied to their
boots; he wants them to shine and reflect. For that he must, too,
have lighter boots, not the heavy, old, clod-hopping watertights
made in the village. If he retains these for week-days, he likes a
shiny pair for Sundays. Here is the cost, then, of an additional
pair of shoes; this is one of the many trifles