OF THE CHECKS TO POPULATION IN FRANCE.
In the sixth chapter of Book II., Mr. Malthus gives us some account of
the checks to population which existed in France at the end of last
century, which might convince the most sceptical of modern pessimists of
the vast strides which a nation may take in a short period towards the
attainment of comfort and well-being.
The population of France, before the beginning of the war, says Malthus,
was estimated by the Constituent Assembly at 26¼ millions. Necker
estimated the yearly births, in 1780, to be above a million, and it is
curious, as we shall soon see, that France, in 1874, had not a million
of births with a population of 36 millions. Malthus estimated that, out
of that million, 600,000 would attain the age of 18; and, considering
that nearly as many persons are to be found in a given society,
unmarried as married, he amply accounts for the seeming paradox that,
whilst France was supposed to have lost 2½ millions by actual war and
its consequences, at the time of the Revolution, the population was
found to have increased, in 1800, as compared with 1790.
“At all times,” says Malthus, “the number of small farmers and
proprietors in France was great: and though such a state of things is by
no means favourable to the clear surplus produce or disposable wealth of
a nation, yet sometimes it is not unfavourable to the absolute produce,
and it has always a tendency to encourage population.” This last remark
of Mr. Malthus has not been verified. In no country does the population
tend to increase so slowly as in modern France—the land _par excellence_
of peasant proprietors. In all probability, the rapid increase of
population at the time of the French Revolution arose from the lower
death-rate which always follows a sudden amelioration of the position of
the humbler classes, such as that which took place where landed property
came into their possession.
The average proportion of births to population in all France, before the
Revolution was, according to Necker, 39 per 1000. It has singularly
altered since that time, and is now only 26 per 1,000, or the lowest
birth-rate in Europe. The death-rate then was 33 per 1,000, and has
fallen of late to 21 per 1,000, or nearly the lowest death-rate in
Europe.
Sir Francis d’Ivernois, in a work entitled _Tableau des Pertes_, has the
following remark: “Those have yet to learn the first principles of
political arithmetic, who imagine that it is in the field of battle and
the hospitals, that an account can be taken of the lives which a
revolution or a war has cost. The number of men it has killed is of much
less importance than the number of children which it has prevented, and
will still prevent, from coming into the world.” To this Mr. Malthus
replies: “And yet if the circumstances on which the foregoing reasonings
are founded should turn out to be true, it will appear that France has
not lost a single birth by the revolution. She has the most just reason
to mourn the two millions and a half of individuals which she may have
lost, but not their posterity: because, if those individuals had
remained in the country, a proportionate number of children born of
other parents, which are now living in France, would not have come into
existence. If in the best governed country in Europe we were to mourn
the posterity which is prevented from coming into being, we should
always wear the habit of grief.”
“It is evident,” he continues, “that the constant tendency of the births
in every country to supply the vacancies made by death, cannot, in a
moral point of view, afford the slightest shadow of excuse for the
wanton sacrifice of men. The positive evil that is committed in this
case, the pain, misery, and wide-spreading desolation and sorrow, that
are occasioned to the existing inhabitants, can by no means be
counterbalanced by the consideration that the numerical breach in the
population will be rapidly repaired. We can have no other right, moral
or political, except that of the most urgent necessity, to exchange the
life of beings in the full vigour of their enjoyments for an equal
number of helpless infants.”
The next passage shows how immensely ameliorated is the condition of
modern France, as compared with that before the Revolution. “At all
times,” says our author, “the number of males of a military age in
France was small in proportion to the population, on account of the
tendency to marriage (1 to 113 of the population, according to Necker),
and the _great number of children_. Necker takes particular notice of
this circumstance. He observes that the effect of the very great misery
of the peasantry is to produce a dreadful mortality of infants under
three or four years of age; and the consequence is that the number of
young children will always be in too great a proportion to the number of
grown-up people. A million of individuals, he justly observes, will, in
this case, neither present the same military force, nor the same
capacity of labour, as an equal number of individuals in a country where
the people are less miserable. Switzerland, before the Revolution, could
have brought into the field, or have employed in labour appropriate to
grown-up persons, one-third more in proportion to her population, than
France at the same period.”
How strikingly all this has been altered by the prudent habits with
regard to families, induced by the peasant holdings in France, is
clearly seen by the following statistics:—Between the ages of 20 and 60
the human frame is most capable of production, and, according to Kolb,
there are in 10,000 persons in the several States in Europe the
following numbers of persons of the productive ages: In France, 5,373;
in Holland, 4,964; in Sweden, 4,954; in Great Britain, 4,732; and in the
United States, 4,396. France has, of all nations in Europe, the highest
average of ages of the living. Thus it is there 31·06 years: in Holland,
27·76; in Sweden, 27·66; in Great Britain, 26·56; and in the United
States, 23·10. And in France there are a greater number of persons who
attain to old age than in any other country, for, out of 100 deaths
there are, in France, over the age of sixty, 36; in Switzerland, 34; in
England, 30; in Belgium, 28; in Wurtemburg, 21; in Prussia, 19; and in
Austria, 17.
But the most notable of all the facts of modern Europe is that marriages
are more prevalent in proportion to population in France than elsewhere,
and, curiously, there is the smallest number of illegitimate births.
Thus, the illegitimate births in France were, from 1825–67, only 7·27
per cent. of all births, whilst in Prussia they were 8·24 per cent. in
1867; in Sweden they were 10 per cent.; in Austria, 11; and in Bavaria,
in 1868, even 22 per cent. of all births. Paris is an exception to this,
for the illegitimate births there are about one-fourth of all births.
France had, in 1867, a mortality of only 1 in 44·24 persons; whilst in
Prussia the death-rate was 1 in 33·88, in Austria 1 in 29·72, in Holland
1 in 36·25, and in Bavaria 1 in 34·65 inhabitants. And here again is a
striking contrast of modern France with the country of the days of
Necker. France has now the lowest birth-rate of Europe. There is but one
birth annually there in 39 inhabitants, whilst in Prussia there is one
birth in 25·47; in Holland 1 in 29; in Austria 1 in 26: in England 1 in
28 inhabitants. According to an article by M. Bertillon on Marriage, in
1877, the average family to a marriage in France is at present only 3:
against 4·68 in Germany, 3·96 in Russia, 4·35 in Spain, and 4·25 in
England. This is what has been recently styled in Europe the “two (or
rather three) Children System of the French.” When we hear of the
absurdly high birth-rate of 4·68 of Germany, need we wonder that the
death-rate in many German towns sometimes amounts to one-half of all
born in the first year of life?
France had, in 1872, a population of 36,102,921, and the number of
births with this population (966,001) did not come up to what it was in
the days of Necker, when the population was only 26¼ millions. And
whilst the population of the United Kingdom, according to our
Registrar-General, is increasing at the rate of 1,173 a day, of which
about 700 are left to swell the home population, the surplus of births
over deaths in France is generally not much more than some 60,000
persons annually added to her population, so that it would take some 300
years for that country to double at its present rate.
As a consequence of our great birth-rate, 36 per 1,000, there is
naturally a great emigration, amounting, as the Registrar-General tells
us, to some 468 persons daily from these shores on an average, an
emigration which, as it has been mainly masculine, has left us a surplus
of nearly one million of women in these islands. In France there is no
great need for emigration; and hence but little takes place; whilst, so
contented are the peasant proprietors with their homes, that, in 1872,
it was found that of the 36 millions of France 30½ millions were born
within the registration districts. This fact accounts for the
continuance of a Republic in France. Poverty is the cause of the ruin of
Republics.
We add a few passages from a recent author to show how great a step has
been taken by the inhabitants of many parts of France towards the
removal of that terrible indigence which is found in most European
countries, and even in less favoured districts in France.
In an article on Auvergne, written in 1874 and contained in his work
entitled _Essays in Political and Moral Philosophy_, which appeared last
year, Mr. Cliffe Leslie makes the following remarks: “The minute
sub-division of land during the last 25 years in the Limagne, whatever
may be its tendencies for good or evil in manners and other respects,
assuredly cannot be ascribed to over-population, once regarded in
England as the inevitable consequence of the French law of
succession.... The Report of the _Enquête Agricole_ on the department
states: ‘All the witnesses have declared that one of the principal
causes of the diminution of the population is the diminution of children
in families. Each family usually wishes for only one child; and when
there are two, it is the result of a mistake (_une erreur_), or that
having had a daughter first, they desire to have a son.’ A poor woman
near Royat, to whom I put some questions respecting wages and prices,
asked whether my wife and children were there, or at one of the other
watering places, and seemed greatly surprised that I had neither. She
thought an English tourist must be rich enough to have several children;
but when asked how many she had herself, she answered, with a
significant smile, ‘One lad; that’s quite enough.’ Our conversation at
this point was as follows:—‘_Votre dame et vos enfants, sont ils à
Royat?_’ ‘_Non._’ ‘_Ou donc? A Mont Dore?_’ ‘_Moi, je n’ai ni enfants ni
femme._’ ‘_Quoi! Pas encore?!_’ ‘_Et vous, combien d’enfants
avez-vous?_’ ‘_Un gars: c’est bien assez. Nous sommes pauvres, mais vous
êtes riche. Cela fait une petite difference._’ The translation of which
is: ‘Are your wife and children at Royat?’ ‘No.’ ‘Where then? At Mont
Dore?’ ‘I have neither wife nor children.’ ‘What! Not yet?!’ ‘And you,
how many children have you?’ ‘One boy: that is quite enough. We are
poor, but you are rich. That makes a little difference.’”
Mr. Leslie continues, p. 424: “If over-population gives rise to
tremendous problems in India, the decline in the number of children in
France seems almost equally serious. If two children are born to each
married couple, a population must decline, because a considerable number
will not reach maturity. If only one child be born to each pair, a
nation must rapidly become extinct. The French law of succession is
producing exactly the opposite effect to what was predicted in this
country. Had parents in France complete testamentary power, there would
not be the same reason for limiting the number of children. M. Leon
Iscot, accordingly, in his evidence on this subject before the _Enquête
Agricole_ on the Puy-de-Dome, said—‘The number of births in families has
diminished one-half. We must come to liberty of testation. In countries
like England, where testamentary liberty exists, families have more
children.’”
Mr. Leslie puzzles us terribly. He recommends, in an essay on _The
Celibacy of the Nation_, that the state of female celibacy should be
greatly encouraged in all countries that desire to have happy marriages,
but yet he is against the _two children system_ of the French.
Decidedly, Mr. Leslie has not thought out the question. He adds, on p.
424: “Whatever may be thought of the change which is taking place in
France in respect of the numbers of the population, there is one change
of which no other country has equal reason to be proud. Its agricultural
population before the Revolution was in the last extremity of poverty
and misery—their normal condition was half-starvation; they could
scarcely be said to be clothed; their appearance in many places was
hardly human. No other country in Europe, taken as a whole, can now
show, upon the whole, so comfortable, happy, prosperous, and respectable
a peasantry.”
In an article on “Holidays in Eastern France, Seine et Marne,” in
_Fraser’s Magazine_, September, 1878, we find this passage:—“We are in
the midst of one of the wealthiest and best cultivated regions of
France, and when we penetrate below the surface we find that in manners
and customs, as well as dress and outward appearance, the peasant, and
agricultural population generally, differ no little from their remoter
fellow-countrymen, the Bretons.... There is no superstition, hardly a
trace of poverty, and little that is poetic. The people are rich,
laborious, and progressive.... It is a significant fact that in this
well-educated district, where newspapers are read by the poorest, and
where well-being is the rule and poverty a rare exception, the church is
empty on Sunday and the priest’s authority is _nil_.
“It is delightful to witness the widespread well-being of this
highly-favoured region. ‘There is no poverty here,’ say my host and
hostess, ‘and that is why life is so pleasant.’ True enough! Wherever
you go you find well-dressed contented-looking people—no rags, no
squalor, no pinched want.... The habitual look of content written upon
the faces you meet is very striking. It seems as if in this land of
Goshen life were no burden, but matter of satisfaction only. Class
distinctions can hardly be said to exist. There are employers and
employed, masters and servants, of course; but the line of demarcation
is lightly drawn, and we find an easy familiarity existing between them,
wholly free from impoliteness, much less vulgarity.... One is struck,
too, by the good looks, intelligence, and trim appearance of the
children, who, it is clear, are well cared for. The houses have vines
and sweet peas on the walls, flowers in the windows, and altogether a
look of comfort and ease found nowhere in Western France.... Here order
and cleanliness prevail, with a diffusion of well-being hardly to be
matched out of America....
“Dirt is rare, I might almost say as unknown, as rags.... Drunkenness is
also comparatively, in some places we might say absolutely, absent. As
we make further acquaintance with these favoured regions, we might
suppose that here, at least, the dreams of the Utopians had come true,
and that poverty, squalor and wretchedness were banished for ever.”
In the month of August, 1878, I had the great advantage of reading, in
my capacity of Vice-President of the First Section of the International
Congress of Hygiene at Paris, an essay on “The Too Rapid Increase of
Population as a Cause of Disease and Death.” In the debate which
followed, Dr. Bertillon, the distinguished Professor of the Faculty of
Medicine of Paris, who has done so much for social statistics, said that
he considered that in many parts of France there was too great a
disinclination on the part of the people to increase the population. In
Brittany, the marriages were few but very prolific, and the people were
very poor. The influence of the priests was paramount in that province,
and the mortality, both adult and infantile, great. There were very few
children to a family in Normandy, and the death-rate was low in that
province. The French Government he said, appeared to be acting according
to the plan advised by the reader of the essay, since they taxed persons
with large families as much as those with small ones. He admitted that
the size of a family should be regulated by parental forethought; but
thought that at present French population was too stationary.
Dr. Lagneau said, that in France it was the rich who had the smallest
families, whilst the very poor often had large ones. The rich employés
of Government, above all, were noted for the small size of their
families. In the case of the peasant vine-growers of the Marne, many
would only have one child, or even none at all, since these peasants
found it difficult to get people to come from the town and help them
with their farms, and had to do all the work by themselves. Hence,
female labour was much in demand.
These facts will, doubtless, afford to many thoughtful persons a clear
enough picture of the remarkable position of modern France, the only
country in Europe which, as yet, seems to have begun fairly to grapple
with the giant question of population.