sooner or later a point must be reached, at which the requirements of accumulation begin to surpass
the customary supply of labour, and, therefore, a rise of wages takes place. A lamentation on this score
was heard in England during the whole of the fifteenth, and the first half of the eighteenth centuries.
The more or less favourable circumstances in which the wage-working class supports and multiplies
itself, in no way alter the fundamental character of capitalist production. As simple reproduction constantly
reproduces the capital-relation itself, i.e., the relation of capitalists on the one hand, and wage-workers
on the other, so reproduction on a progressive scale, i.e., accumulation, reproduces the capital-relation
on a progressive scale, more capitalists or larger capitalists at this pole, more wage-workers at that. The
reproduction of a mass of labour-power, which must incessantly re-incorporate itself with capital for that
capital's self-expansion; which cannot get free from capital, and whose enslavement to capital is only
concealed by the variety of individual capitalists to whom it sells itself, this reproduction of labour-power
forms, in fact, an essential of the reproduction of capital itself. Accumulation of capital is, therefore, increase
of the proletariat.1
Classical economy grasped this fact so thoroughly that Adam Smith, Ricardo, &c., as mentioned earlier,
inaccurately identified accumulation with the consumption, by the productive labourers, of all the capitalised,
part of the surplus-product, or with its transformation into additional wage-labourers. As early as 1696
John Bellers says: "For if one had a hundred thousand acres of land and as many pounds in money, and
as many cattle, without a labourer, what would the rich man be, but a labourer? And as the labourers
make men rich, so the more labourers there will be, the more rich men ... the labour of the poor being
the mines of the rich."2 So also Bernard de Mandeville at the beginning of the eighteenth century: "It
would be easier, where property is well secured, to live without money than without poor; for who would
do the work? ... As they [the poor] ought to be kept from starving, so they should receive nothing worth
saving. If here and there one of the lowest class by uncommon industry, and pinching his belly, lifts
himself above the condition he was brought up in, nobody ought to hinder him; nay, it is undeniably the
wisest course for every person in the society, and for every private family to be frugal; but it is the interest
of all rich nations, that the greatest part of the poor-should almost never be idle, and yet continually
spend what they get.... Those that get their living by their daily labour ... have nothing to stir them up
to be serviceable but their wants which it is prudence to relieve, but folly to cure. The only thing then
that can render the labouring man industrious, is a moderate quantity of money, for as too little will,
according as his temper is, either dispirit or make him desperate, so too much will make him insolent
and lazy.... From what has been said, it is manifest, that, in a free nation, where slaves are not allowed
of, the surest wealth consists in a multitude of laborious poor; for besides, that they are the never-failing
nursery of fleets and armies, without them there could be no enjoyment, and no product of any country
could be valuable. "To make the society" [which of course consists of non-workers] "happy and people
easier under the meanest circumstances, it is requisite that great numbers of them should be ignorant
as well as poor; knowledge both enlarges and multiplies our desires, and the fewer things a man wishes
for, the more easily his necessities may be supplied."3 What Mandeville, an honest, clear-headed man,
had not yet seen, is that the mechanism of the process of accumulation itself increases, along with the
capital, the mass of "labouring poor," i.e., the wage-labourers, who turn their labour-power into an increasing
power of self-expansion of the growing capital, and even by doing so must eternise their dependent
relation on their own product, as personified in the capitalists. In reference to this relation of dependence,
Sir F. M. Eden in his "The State of the Poor, an History of the Labouring Classes in England," says, "the
natural produce of our soil is certainly not fully adequate to our subsistence; we can neither be clothed,
lodged nor fed but in consequence of some previous labour. A portion at least of the society must be
indefatigably employed .... There are others who, though they 'neither toil nor spin,' can yet command the
produce of industry, but who owe their exemption from labour solely to civilisation and order .... They
are peculiarly the creatures of civil institutions,4 which have recognised that individuals may acquire
property by various other means besides the exertion of labour.... Persons of independent fortune ...
owe their superior advantages by no means to any superior abilities of their own, but almost entirely
... to the industry of others. It is not the possession of land, or of money, but the command of labour
which distinguishes the opulent from the labouring part of the community .... This [scheme approved by
Eden] would give the people of property sufficient (but by no means too much) influence and authority